I started teaching at the community college a month or so before the end of the winter semester to take the place of a teacher who had emergency surgery, and was recovering slowly. It was a concert choir class, and while my singing abilities are quite limited, I know good music when I hear it. On a couple of unusual occasions, I have stood in front of the church choir, pretended to direct it, and quite enjoyed it.
The first time I saw Rachel in class I was awestruck. Her brown eyes sparkled like gems at noonday and her smile was dazzling. I couldn't take my eyes off her! She had full cheeks and lips, a small nose and a perfect, rounded face that matched her other features perfectly. And when she opened her mouth and began singing, I had to sit down. She was un-fucking-believable!
Somehow I managed to make it through that first class without making an absolute fool of myself, and was better prepared for the next one. Now that I had seen and heard Rachel, I knew what to expect, and I prepared myself accordingly. Each class period, I found it more difficult to take my eyes off of her, but I did my best to pay attention to the whole choir.
One day, after a concert the night before, we decided to relax and watch a movie instead of rehearsing. The students spread themselves all over the rehearsal room, got comfortable and watched and relaxed. Rachel stretched out on the floor on her tummy, and did some work for her history class as she watched the movie, Ratatouille. I was in the back of the class, and observed her carefully. Her body had wonderful lines, subtle curves from her shoulder to her waist and hips to her legs, curves that screamed of her sexiness. Her ass was perfect, heart shaped. She was showing a little skin at her waist, and each time she shifted a little, I could see more. I moved to a seat to more to the side of her, to maximize how much flesh I could see. Her breasts were pressed to the floor under her, and I could see how big they really were.
Once, she rolled onto her back for a minute, and lay there with her arms outstretched. I could see her navel, and in her low-rider pants, could see far enough to know that she shaved. I could hardly stand it, and was glad the classroom was darkened for the movie. I wanted to jack off so badly! With each passing day, it was getting harder and harder to resist her.
She flirted with me mercilessly, always talking with me before and after class. She always seemed to have a question to ask, preceded and followed by that magnificent smile. I tried to ignore her femininity and her charms, and I thought I was doing well, until one afternoon a couple of weeks after I took over the class, Rachel came to visit me during office hours.
It was late in the afternoon, and I was preparing to leave for the day. I had successfully navigated another class period with Rachel and thought I was home free, when I heard a soft knock at my door. I looked up to see that dazzling smile one more time and couldn't wipe the smile from off my face.
"Hello Rachel," I said guardedly. The shit-eating grin was giving me away, I was sure.
"Hi Mr. Fox," she replied, sounding all innocent and young. "Do you have a minute? I need to ask you a question or two. I thought you might have a question or two for me as well."
"Sure. Come on in and have a seat."
Rachel, in all her glory, sat on the edge of the chair across the desk from me. I looked into her eyes, and then dragging myself away from their captivity, I shook my head and began speaking. "What's on your mind?" I asked, knowing exactly what was on mine.
"Well," she began, "you seem to pay a lot of attention to me in our classes, and I'm afraid that I might not be meeting your expectations in some way, or maybe I'm not doing something the way you would like. I'm not really sure what it is, but I felt like I should talk with you about it."
"Oh Rachel, you're the top of the class. You sing like an angel, and are far and away the greatest talent in the class. You certainly are the best in the class. I don't think you have anything to worry about."
"Well is there any particular, like, reason that you're, well, paying such close attention to me?"
Here goes, I thought, I'm going to let her know.
"Rachel, sometimes things happen in life that we can't really explain. I think this is one of them. Sometimes there is a compatibility, a facility, an interaction, that we can't explain. I don't know if it's chemical, biological, mental, emotional, pheromones, or just exactly what, but it seems to cross social and physical and language and age and time barriers. Two people, or I guess it could be more, have a connection that they can't explain nor get enough of. Like ice cold water on a hot summer day, you just have to drink deep. That's what has happened to me. Your face, your eyes, your smile, they all captivate me. It feels like I can't stop looking. But I do stop at looking for a lot of reasons, a major one being that I am old enough to be your father, let alone the fact that I am married and have children older than you!
"So there you have it. I might get fired for what I just told you, but that is precisely why I pay such close attention to you. I truly can't not pay attention to you. I hope you're not offended."
"Oh my god, Mr. Fox. That's exactly how I feel. I thought it was just me, and I thought it was so inappropriate, how I felt about you, but I just couldn't fight it. I want to sing for you. I want to talk to you. I want to be around you. I want to make you look at me that way. I want to make you happy and make you feel good. I love singing for you!"
"I'm so glad we cleared the air, Rachel. Now what? Well, I'll tell you what. We have to be adults about this and keep things on an appropriate level -- you are the student and I am the teacher. You know how I feel, and I know how you feel, so let's recognize it for what it is, and try to deal with it. Are you ok with that?"
"I guess so. It's just that I've never felt this way before, and I don't really know how to hold it in."
"I have an idea. You come into my office every day, and I will play for you and you can sing for me. Or you can play and sing both if you would like. Let's start right now."
I rolled my chair over to the piano, and began playing one of her favorite songs. Rachel stood and walked over behind me and began singing. No warm up, no nothing, just pure, sweet liquid love pouring out of her mouth. It was like heaven. Somewhere between the first and second song she put her hands on my shoulders. I played and she sang three songs, then she sat at the piano and played and sang a couple of more. I thought I was in heaven. I had a raging hard-on the whole time, and it clearly wasn't about to go away.
When she finished, she stood in front of me and looked at my crotch, seeing the size of my hard-on. I broke from her eyes and moved my gaze down her body. For the first time from this close up, I looked at the sensual curve of her neck, her flawless skin, the rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed in and out, the perfect size of her breasts, the curve of her waist and the flatness of her tummy, the curve of her hips and their welcoming sway, and then I saw the "Y" of her jeans, and the dark stain in her crotch. "My god," I breathed, "your pussy has soaked your pants."
"Yeah," she replied, "I've never been this wet and turned on in my whole life. I am so horny I could explode. I've got to have some relief."
She was breathing hard, and I didn't think it was from the singing. "Rachel," I said, "we're not going to fuck -- at least not yet. But if you need some relief," I said as I locked the office door, "come and sit down here, take off your pants, and we'll jack off together."
Wordlessly she dropped her pants and handed me her undies, then sat herself down in the padded chair and spread her legs for me. I drew her panties to my face, tasted them and breathed in her scent deeply. She closed her eyes and rubbed her clit, slowly at first, then more quickly. She had a feather-light touch, and I could tell she was so turned on she would cum quickly.
I unzipped my pants to take my rock-hard dick into my hand and started stroking. God it was hot: watching Rachel finger herself, breathing in through her soaking wet panties, and stroking my cock. She looked me in the eyes, put a finger in her cunt and started fucking herself. It wasn't long before I heard her moaning, and the moans turn into screams as she began cumming.
"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." The words streamed out of her mouth unconsciously, an endless run of the same phrase. Her hips bucked and thrusted, her whole body flexing and relaxing in great pulsations as the orgasm tore through her. She shuddered to a finish just as my first jet of cum shot out, followed by five or six more, and I was spent as well.
We looked at each other, and she began giggling. "Oh my god, you made a mess of your desk. Here, let me help you clean it up."
Before I could even react, Rachel leaned over the desk and slurped up my cum. All of it. Still half naked, she came and sat on my lap and kissed me. She kissed me deeply, mouth open, and my cum flowed between our mouths. We both swallowed and kept on kissing. My hard-on had returned and she noticed.
"I know you said we weren't going to fuck today, and I agree. But your cock is hard again already!"
"Right, I know. Maybe you should just give him a little kiss, and I'll put him away for now until we decide just what we are going to do."
