Devon Curtis seemed to have it all. The 18-year-old high school senior was the star running back of the varsity football team and had his pick of college scholarships. Pretty much any girl in school was his for the taking too, at least in his experience - any he had wanted had quickly been added to his list of conquests. And yet, it wasn't enough.
Having grown up in a tough neighborhood, Devon had quickly grown used to the ways of the world. By the time he reached high school he was already an expert in the art of how to pleasure a girl. He had refined those skills as he worked to sample every kind of female he could - every race on campus had to be tried. He enjoyed them all in different ways but somehow something was still missing. Finally he knew what it was: He wanted a teacher.
Figuring that out had been easy, figuring out why was a little harder. The lady teachers on campus weren't obviously prettier than the cheerleaders he had enjoyed, but they all had something none of those girls had. Their authority was part of it - they naturally stood above him even though he was much bigger than them physically and the idea of reversing that and dominating them was thrilling in a kind of primal way. Plus they were smart and sophisticated and their very maturity turned him on - they weren't empty headed sluts like most of the girls in school.
Somehow all that combined with their professional dress and kind, supportive attitudes made him feel sure that having sex with them would be a much deeper and more involving experience for him - and that his bedroom skills, strength and power could be life-changing for them.
Soon Devon found it an ever more exciting game to imagine what each of his female teachers would look and feel like naked and in his arms, all their authority stripped away to reveal the woman beneath, surrendering everything to him. Their ages, body types and races ranged as widely as the girls he'd had, and he imagined how each might hold their own unique delights.
Even Mrs. DeMarco, the 60-ish school principal, had been the subject of a night dream or two - he'd imagined the feisty Italian-American matron on top of him, his dark cock plunging in and out of her gray-flecked bush as he fondled her big tits. She was a screamer, he felt certain - at least he knew she would be with him, as he made her feel things no white man ever had. And that dream made him cum even harder than he did with actual girls.
But that had just been a fantasy. Suddenly the game was set aside and became a clear goal when he first laid eyes on Claire Grayson, his senior English teacher. She was everything he wanted: Warm yet sweetly sexy in a classy, ungettable woman-next-door way, with dimples and great curves that her usually severe outfits couldn't quite hide.
The rock on her finger told him she was married, and there was a picture of her with her husband on her desk. He looked a lot older and fatter than slim, petite Mrs. Grayson, who he guessed was about 30. Her short blonde hair looked natural, judging by her matching eyebrows and roots, and finding out whether the rest of her matched instantly hardened him whenever he thought of it. He was sure she was a "good girl" and would never cheat on her man, in fact she was probably a virgin when she married him. The idea of being with a younger man - a stronger man, a better lover, a black man - would never occur to her, which only made him more hot for her.
If she only knew how powerful sex could be, should be. He knew he could rock her world. He knew he desperately wanted to. He HAD to.
And so Devon began to devote as much time as he did preparing for football season on achieving his aim of seducing Mrs. Grayson. He started by doing all he could to get more involved in class, speaking up and doing extra credit assignments to impress her. Then he asked if he could be her teacher's aide in another class period, using the excuse that it would look good on his college applications. She seemed surprised but gratefully agreed.
Scoring multiple choice quizzes for her and other boring paperwork was dull but he was glad of the additional time it offered him to be around her, to talk with her and work to move their relationship from teacher-student to more of a friendship. Although he knew the moment, when it came, would still require him to take the lead and dominate her, he had no intention of raping his teacher: he would have to prepare Claire to be at least subconsciously willing to submit to him for it to be the experience he dreamed of making for both of them.
Devon took every opportunity to carry things for her, like materials to and from the school store room, and to her car at the end of a day. "Nice SUV," he said of her small sport-ute, as he visualized the two of them in it, steaming the windows.
"Thanks," Claire replied. "We got it when we planned to do a lot of hiking and camping." Devon noted the past tense - her English lessons had obviously worked on him. And her words stirred his hopes.
"I love the outdoors," he said adding, "I love to feel nature" just as felt its pull in truth as she reached in to shift one of the boxes and gifted him with a momentary glimpse of her shapely ass stretching her form-fitting slacks, and revealing her panty lines. He sighed as he felt his dreams take another step closer to reality.
Claire stood up. "Yes, it's so relaxing. Unfortunately Ben, my husband, has a bad back and doesn't care to do those things anymore."
"I'm sorry to hear that," he answered, honestly even if he still felt encouraged by it. "So you and the kids don't get to do it?"
"Oh, we don't have kids," she replied, with a wistful note in her voice and in her blue eyes. "That's a shame," he said without thinking. "You'd be such a great mom!"
She looked at him in surprise and Devon was yelling at himself inwardly for being such an idiot, until she said, "Thank you Devon, that is a very sweet thing to say."
As they stood there smiling at each other, Devon felt the unfamiliar stirrings of something beyond the familiar feel of lust for his favorite teacher. New thoughts, hopes and dreams began to form in his mind.
The next day during his assistant period, while she was busy teaching, he took the opportunity to explore her desk a little and was thrilled to find she'd left her personal Facebook page open on her laptop...deliberately?
His pulse raced as he clicked through her photo page, finally seeing her not as a nurturing teacher like in the school yearbook but as a woman out with her friends... and then his cock throbbed on finding a shot of her standing poolside in a swimsuit. The modest one-piece offered only a g-rated view but the image was still a treasure as precious as a diamond to Devon, as it showed off her shapely if pale legs and reinforced his guesstimate of her C-cup breasts.
To his surprise, he realized that was how he saw them - hers were not tits, they were breasts. And they called out to him from inside that bland, blue, middle-aged-lady swimsuit which his teacher managed to make look sexy.
Need to learn more about Claire drove Devon. As the days went on, he gently but steadily probed about her husband and despite her classy reserve, he sensed that all was not well. He was sympathetic but also excited to feel his chances with her were improving.
