Author's note: This is a work of fiction. All characters are eighteen years or older, and were during all events referenced in this story. Enjoy.
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"What the hell is a stomata? Why do plants have to be so fucking confusing?" Kate mutters beside me, tapping at the sheet of paper with a pen.
I blink, snapped out of my reverie, and glance at her, then down at the sheet of confusing plant-related bullshit on our desks. I give it a frown, finding it makes about as much sense as it all did a minute ago, then grunt and lean back against my chair, and direct my gaze back to the front of the classroom. Mr Davis sits behind his desk, an open textbook before him.
So, I have been failing biology hard, for a while now. Three months, actually, ever since Mr Davis took over our class. To be fair, I wasn't exactly the best student before he took over, but...well, that's a different matter.
Anyway, Mr Davis is, to put it simply, hot. Hot in a 'spank me harder, Daddy' kind of way I hadn't even realised I was into. We all thought he was hot, it wasn't just me, my friends and classmates had all shared in a bit of hushed and giggled gossip back when he'd first strolled into the biology classroom and introduced himself. He'd sat on the edge of the desk, speaking in his rich deep voice. He was one of those attractive guys that didn't appear to know just how attractive he was, which of course only added to the attraction. Tall, deep skinned, somewhere between burnt umber and deep caramel, with a shaven head, a friendly smile and a solidly athletic build beneath the drab professor's clothing he wears. He cant be more than thirty five, but he dresses like someone twice his age. Still, he somehow manages to pull it off. Even in tan slacks, I can tell he's got a phenomenal ass.
Like I said, I wouldn't have even thought I was that into older guys until him, now, I barely get off to anyone under thirty.
To be clear, it was just a bit of harmless daydreaming to begin with. A little naughty fantasy here and there, slipping unbidden into my mind, fantasies I'd tried to ignore at first while thinking 'what the fuck is wrong with me?'
But then I'd given in to one, and then another, and...well, let's just say lust can be a slippery slope, because now I entertain just about every dirty thought that slips into my head. I mean, I'm eighteen and horny as hell like...well, all the goddamn time. What do you expect?
It started with the dream; the hottest, most vivid sex dream I've ever had. I'd woken panting, my whole body tingling, hovering so close to an orgasm that if I'd touched my burning slit immediately I think I would have cum right then. Instead, I'd laid there shocked and reeling for a moment as I came to terms with what my subconscious brain had been imagining, only for the hazy, lust-addled state clouding me to wash all that rationality away, and I'd bit my lip, slid my hand beneath the damp fabric of my panties, and hesitantly picked up where the dream had left off, with Mr Davis' enormous ebony cock buried in my sopping teenage cunt, and rode that electrifying wave until succumbing to the most incredibly mind-numbing climax I'd ever experienced.
When I'd sobered up, I'd put it down to the high from the dream, thinking that would be it. Until I saw Mr Davis in class the next day, and that had stirred up a whole fiery well of emotions that had driven me to frantically repeat the experience in the shower that night, and then again an hour later in bed.
And pretty much every night since. Look, like I said, it's a slippery slope, okay?
It was like the more I indulged the feelings, the deeper I sank, and now I'm at the point where I sit in class with my legs squeezed together, dreaming about being fucked raw by man a good fifteen or twenty years my senior, and doing everything I can to resist the urge to sneakily stick my hand down my pants, or excuse myself and make for the nearest bathroom.
I know it's ridiculous. I try, really, I do, but I'm starting to learn that I apparently have absolutely zero self control. I can't concentrate for more than a few minutes before I start mentally removing everyone but me and Mr Davis from the classroom, during his classes at least. He'll call me up to the front of the class, and when I'm there, standing before him, he'll tell me the only way I'm going to pass biology is by dropping to my knees, opening my mouth and...
Shit, I'm doing it again.
I know it's fucked up. I know it's wrong, but lately I've just pretty much decided I'm too mature for guys my age. I barely think of anyone in our year anymore. Mr Heywood, our P.E. teacher, Sandra's older brother Greg, my neighbour Dan...
And I'm not crazy, but in all those cases, I know it's not one sided. Greg was absolutely getting flirty with me at Sandra's party a few months back. Dan's always glancing at my bedroom window when he walks past, and I'm getting more and more tempted to 'accidentally' forget to close my blinds the next time I'm getting changed. I feel Mr Heywood's eyes all over me every gym class, and I know how good my ass looks in those tight little shorts. Although in that case I'm pretty sure he checks out all of us girls. I would have called him a perv a year ago; now, though, every time I straighten from picking up a ball or something and see him look hurriedly away, I get a little rush.
But they're all just side-fantasies really, nothing compared to my insatiable lust for Mr Davis. He however, I can't be sure about. I mean, I think he checks me out, he's just more subtle then Mr Heywood, and there's a few times I'm convinced he's almost been a little flirty with me.
Or it's just all in my head and I'm just a pathetic, delusional mess.
No, fuck that, he's definitely checked me out before. I've certainly given him the opportunity. I get I'm not the hottest girl in our year, but I'm not exactly miles away. My face is a little long, eyes a little wide-set, my mess of dirty blonde curls a little wild, but I still look fucking good. I could be taller, I guess, my legs longer, maybe, but they're toned and smooth, just like my stomach. I've got a nice ass, firm and pronounced, and nice fucking tits, if I say so myself. Maybe not as perfect as Lisa's pert beauties or as big as Penny's, straining for everything they're worth against her uniform, but certainly the best of both worlds.
So yeah, why wouldn't he want me? What reason could he possibly have for not wanting to bend me over this desk and slapping that thick, warm cock against my...
Alright, chill, Audrey.
Just to be clear, I've never actually had sex. I've come close, done other stuff, but well...things didn't work out. And now, I want so goddamn badly for my biology teacher to be my first.
There's a rational part of me that knows it will never happen, that knows he doesn't think about students that way, that knows how fucked up the very idea is.
But I swear it's shrinking, because more and more often I've found myself putting actual consideration into just what I'd do if he ever even hinted at being into me.
Would I actually have the guts to respond? Or could I actually make a move, corner him after class and just throw myself at him, beg him take my virgin pussy right there in the classroom?
I cross one leg over the other, letting out a strained sigh. Christ, my cunt is wet. I slide my hand along my thigh, nudging the hem of my plaid skirt aside and casually trailing my fingers across the warm skin.
"Audrey, can you pay attention, please?"
Kate's voice snaps me back with a start. "What? Shit, sorry." I tug my hand back and shake my head, my mess of dark blonde hair starting to curl again since I last straightened it.
Kate's peering at me, one brow raised as she twirls her pencil between her fingers. "What's up with you?"
"Nothing, I'm just...distracted."
"Yeah?" She glances towards the front of the classroom, then leans in and drops her voice to a whisper. "Cause it seemed like you were staring at Mr Davis all googly eyed again."
"Well, I wasn't."
"You sure? It was kind of obvious."
Shit. "I wasn't, I was just...thinking."
"Kinda seemed like you were picturing him naked."
"Kate!"
I mean, I was. Fuck, I didn't think I was being that obvious.
She giggles, leaning back and raising her hands. "Hey, I'm not judging. Did I tell you? Apparently Ashley Graham, Ryan's girlfriend in the year below us, lives near him, and she saw him mowing his lawn." She takes a breath and gives her fingers a shake. "With his shirt off."
"No she didn't."
"Just what I heard. Apparently, he's toned as fuck under all that old man shit."
I had never doubted that.
"Lucky bitch," Kate says, now also gazing at Mr Davis. "He has to have a massive dick, right? Like, all black guys do, don't they?"
