It was Friday and Heather Baker looked up as her seventh period class filed in the door. Most of the students aimed straight for their seats, but Trent glanced at her with a small smile first. The bell rang, and Ms. Baker went to close the door before addressing her class.
"Okay class. If you would please put your homework in the basket, we can get started." Most of the class got busy searching and grumbling, but as she looked around the room, she noticed Trent smirking at her with his paper in his hand, just as he had the other two times she'd asked for homework this week.
Seventh period was her Creative Writing class for seniors. Most of the students had finished their required credits and just needed electives to fill their schedules, so Ms. Baker provided some. She asked for three short stories a week, to be handed in Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, which she took home over the weekend to read and grade. Unfortunately, this meant that she hadn't yet read any of the week's stories and so had no clue why Trent was giving her that look.
She was teaching today's class on the importance of detail, hoping once again that some of it would sink in and she would start getting better stories than she had been so far.
Looking out over her class, Ms. Baker decided she wasn't going to hold her breath. It was the final class of the day on an April afternoon, with about fifteen students suffering from "senioritis." When her gaze came across Trent's, she was pleased to see that she held his rapt, undivided attention. She gave him a small smile to show her appreciation and received one in return. Just then, the bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Most of the students raced to the door, eager to be gone. Trent, however, slowly gathered his belongings and strolled toward the exit. As he reached the door, he turned back for a moment.
"Enjoy your weekend, Ms. Baker," he said, then turned and left. She could have sworn his eyes twinkled as he said it.
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When she got home, Heather took a hot, relaxing shower to work the day's kinks from her muscles. When she got out, she put on a pair of loose-fitting sweat pants and an over-sized shirt, opened a bottle of her favorite wine to help her unwind, and sat back on her bed with the papers her writing class had turned in that week and got ready to grade.
Luckily, she assigned these stories to be no more than two pages each. Otherwise, she would spend all weekend doing this. She didn't think she could stand that. Most of these kids couldn't tell an interesting story to save their lives. However, there were a couple with a fair amount of talent. When Heather had discovered that near the beginning of the year, she had begun seeking out papers by those students and putting them at the back of her stack. That way, she could end on a high note instead of depressed by the drivel everyone else handed in.
Heather rubbed the bridge of her nose after finishing a particularly horrible essay. She thought of it as an essay because that's how it read-- fairly informative but not entertaining in the least. She wrote a grade that was, in her opinion, extremely generous, then set the paper aside for one of the last three in her stack. Seeing these, Heather felt better already. The last three were the ones Trent had turned in over the week, and that young man could write! She settled back, relaxed, and got ready to enjoy the story before her.
She hadn't gotten far when her jaw dropped. Trent had written a story about a young man (who looked amazingly like him) who wanted to fuck his private tutor (who looked amazingly like her). He went into detail about how the young man, Ted, cornered the tutor, Liz, after his lesson one day and proceeded to eat her out with such technique that she was cumming in no time. Supposedly, it was something he hadn't ever done, but the tutor had her doubts.
Not sure what to think, Heather laid that story aside and tentatively reached for the next one. Once again, Trent had written about Ted and Liz. She read how Liz had shown up for their next lesson blushing and stammering a bit and quite unable to look Ted in the eye. Once again, after the lesson, Ted cornered her and kissed her with all of the pent up frustration of a teenage boy. He then expressed his desire for her to give him a blow job saying that, while he'd had them before, they'd been by girls too inexperienced to be very good at it. She agreed and proceeded to give him the best head he'd ever gotten, finishing by swallowing the buckets of cum he produced.
Heather was pretty sure now of what was going on and what would be happening in the third story. She was not disappointed.
In the third story, Liz returned for the next lesson dressed a little differently. She had on a skirt and a nearly see-through blouse instead of the pantsuit she usually wore, and she had fixed her hair into a feathery cloud of curls.
She informed Ted that their lesson would be a bit different today, then unbuckled his pants, pulled out his dick, and began sucking it. When he was hard, she stood and leaned over the table telling Ted to fuck her from behind. He lifted her skirt, saw her bare ass, and almost creamed right there. She guided him in and made a man out of him. He started out slow, but when she begged him to, he went so fast and hard that he only lasted a couple of minutes.
By the time Heather finished the third story, she was so hot and bothered that she didn't care if one of her students had written it. She slipped her hand into her sweat pants and started rubbing her clit. As she did, she slipped her other hand in and started finger fucking herself. She slipped in two more fingers until the stimulation was more than she could stand. She came hard, drenching her fingers and pants.
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The following Monday, Trent thought of nothing all day except what kind of reception he was likely to get in seventh period. He partly worried that Ms. Baker would turn him in to the principal. Although, if she was going to do that, wouldn't she have done it already? The rest of his thoughts were tied up in fantasies of Ms. Baker fucking his brains out as soon as he entered class, of him laying her across her desk and eating her until she screamed his name, and of her dropping to her knees in front of him and sucking his dick dry. Of course the fact that if any of these things actually happened, they would have the rest of the class as an audience didn't interrupt his thoughts for even a second.
Despite Trent's lapse in concentration, he somehow managed to get through his first six classes. As the bell rang to go to seventh period, his heart hammered in his chest so loudly, he was surprised the whole school couldn't hear it. He walked through the door to Ms. Baker's class and glanced at her sitting at her desk. She was watching the students file into the room, but when her gaze met his, her face didn't give anything away. He still didn't know what was going to happen. The tardy bell rang, and the class settled down.
"Okay," began Ms. Baker, "If you could please turn in your homework, I'll pass back the stories from last week." It was the same routine as every other Monday, but today Trent felt ten times as nervous as he had on any other Monday this year.
He got up to put his paper in the basket, and when he got back to his seat, his papers were lying face down on his desk. It took him a minute to work up the courage to turn the papers over, and when he did, he saw that there was no grade, but Ms. Baker had written a note across the top-- "See me after class." He looked in her direction to find that, while she was looking at him again, he still couldn't determine what she was thinking.
The class time passed quickly, and, for the first time since September, Trent had no idea what the lesson had been about. The bell rang, and Trent watched as his classmates gathered their belongings and got up to leave. He put his book and notebook into his bag, then sat and waited. Ms. Baker let him sit for five minutes before she closed the door and turned to approach him.
"Okay, Trent, what's going on? Those stories you turned in last week, I never would have expected that from you," she said. "Now, I haven't informed the principal- yet. I wanted to hear what you had to say first."
Trent felt himself blushing as he carefully considered his options. He sure as hell didn't want to tell her the truth. Unfortunately, it didn't look as if he had much of a choice. She held all the cards. If she went to the principal, he would almost certainly be expelled with less than a month until graduation. It would be thirteen years of education wasted because he wouldn't have a prayer of getting a scholarship after that, and he couldn't afford college without one.
"I-I... um, that is...," he stammered. "Fuck!" Ms. Baker's eyes widened a bit at his word choice, but she didn't interrupt. Trent started again, "The truth is that I've had a thing for you since the first time I saw you. Just thinking about your long, slender legs and where they go under that skirt makes my cock so hard I can't stand for at least five minutes. I've never fucked anyone before, but I've dreamed about the day I would finally get to fuck you. I've wanted to tell you all this for awhile, and I knew that if I didn't do it now, I never would. Please don't get me kicked out!"
All of this came out in a rush, and when he finished, Trent stared down at his desk, unable and unwilling to look Ms. Baker in the eye, afraid of what he might see. So it was a complete surprise to feel her hand gently but firmly lifting his chin and bringing his eyes up to meet hers. He was glad she had. When he looked up, he saw a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes.
Trent watched as Ms. Baker got up and locked the door, then returned and took him by the hand. She led him to the sofa in the reading nook. It was a corner of her classroom designed to provide a place for students to read with fewer distractions. The sides not facing a wall were surrounded by bookshelves, and the area was open only in the direction of Ms. Baker's desk so that she could supervise the students who made use of it. It was not, however, visible from the door, and it was that, along with the very comfortable sofa, that made the location so appealing.
