"Mr. Macron?"
I was too busy leering. Amber had come straight from track, still perspiring. Of course, I imagined her showering there, and maybe she did. I pictured her peeling off her sticky, sweaty track shorts and t-shirt in the locker room, shedding her bulky sports bra and shyly stepping into the shower before letting go of the towel.
I didn't need to imagine her breasts. For a week, all I could think about was her standing at the door to my classroom. Amber's bra and blouse were pulled down to her belly button, those petite, B-cup titties on full display, daring me to get caught with a student. It was all I could do to refuse the offer right then, when all I wanted was to pull down those tight jeans and fuck her over my desk.
"Mr. Macron?"
I was staring at her tits, barely concealed in a white sports bra that showed off all her midriff. If it hadn't been an hour after school, I'd have sent her to the principal's office for showing so much skin. Her black yoga pants were hardly better, the elastic stretched so tightly that I could make out the outline of each cheek with every step.
Amber stood up slowly, letting me soak in every second, perfectly aware of what she was doing everytime she arched her back.
"Mr. Macron, I'm finished with the test..."
She leaned over my desk, the modest curves of her tits bursting against the fabric of her white sports bra.
"Right..." I stammered, remembering my job. "Let me read over it real quick."
It actually wasn't bad. I had originally thought Amber would just bend over my desk and offer herself in exchange for the A.
And part of me wanted that, her stripped bare, prostrate and spread wide open over my desk to be used until I came all over that pretty face.
I wondered if my cum would get caught in her braces.
Would she lick herself clean?
"I read it like I promised. I'm going to meet your expectations. All of them."
I finished reading.
"Hm, you focused a lot on the relationship between Heathcliff and Cathy."
She perked up.
"Yeah, I guess that's the part that made the most sense to me. Forbidden love, the difference between social classes..."
Amber leaned over my desk, resting her face in her hands, wiggling from her hips. With each motion, I watched her boobs bounce, unable to keep eye contact.
"Y'know," she said, one hand playing with the opening of her bra. "It kind of reminds me of someone. Different worlds, desires, worrying about being judged or shamed."
Her thumb pulled at the bra while she leaned up. I openly stared, seeing the outline of her tiny, pink nipples as she flaunted her teenage body in front of me.
I stiffened beneath the desk, unable to stop.
"It's not... we're not..."
I stammered like a boy before clearing my throat.
"Amber, this is an A essay. I'll run the scantron later. I know you're nervous about track, but that's... look it's no reason to... well, you know."
She let the bra snap back against her skin and stood up.
I pulled my hand away from absently rubbing my hard-on.
"I'll make sure you're passing, and we can just forget about anything else."
Amber crossed her arms, almost covering her chest, turning beat red.
"You... you just want to forget what you saw?"
"No, no! I..."
"Of course. You're married. God, I'm so stupid. I'm really sorry Mr. Macron! You're just like hot, and smart, and funny. I got carried away in this fantasy in my head and..."
It had been so long since I'd gotten a compliment. Women don't know how hard up men are for any attention, and here this gorgeous eighteen year old wanted to fuck me.
"No, no, Amber, it's okay."
"Your wife probably wants to kill me."
"I... uh... didn't mention it."
Was I really saying no?
"Oh..."
"It's just inappropriate. I'm your teacher and..."
"Yeah, I get it."
She looked so dejected.
"I'm not your type. It's fine. I've still got these stupid braces. No wonder I'm no good at this. God, and I thought this was my sexiest outfit. Gym clothes!"
She turned around, bending over so that the black spandex pressed into that perfect bubble butt.
God, when was I ever going to get an opportunity like this again.
"I even spend time practicing this in front of a mirror, hoping you'd notice and rip them off over the desk or something. It's stupid, just a girl crush..."
"Um... Amber."
"Mr. Macron?"
She looked... hopeful.
"Look, uh I'm flattered, and well... after last time. I had to rush to the bathroom, to um... take care of myself."
Amber hesitated a second, then smiled.
"Me too. Well, I mean at home."
"But we can't. Not here. Not at my home or yours. So it's better if we just..."
"Are you sure Mr. Mac? I've wanted you to see this all day."
Still turned around, Amber pulled down her tight fitting yoga pants, revealing a beautifully tight bubble butt. With her pants around her ankles, she leaned over to touch her toes, revealing the completely smooth opening of her glistening part.
She stood there, hands spreading her cheeks open, legs straining and stretching the fabric of her leggings. Open and bent over, I could see the beginnings of both holes, begging for me to fuck her.
"Do they meet your expectations?"
I watched, stroking myself through my slacks.
