Please read Part 1 first. You'll enjoy the story much more!
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Thinking back on that first time with Julie was enough to nearly push me over the edge all by itself. As I eased up and stopped at the next traffic light, I slid my hand between my legs and began to slip two fingers inside my leaking pussy. This time, I was so hot that I almost wished someone would see me.
The anticipation, the dread, the memory of her sweet young body all combined to put me in that zone where I just needed to cum. My mother could have pulled up along side of me and I would not, could not, have removed my fingers from my cunt. I smeared my nectar all around my opening and began to rub my clit furiously. There was no time for the usual teasing or preliminaries.
Fortunately, this time the car beside me at the light was a small one like mine, and the woman driver was not high enough to see into my vehicle. But I sensed that she was watching me. I suppose it must have been the wanton expression on my face. Eyes partially closed, lips parted, nostrils flaring—all the signals of arousal. I watched her watch me, but never slowed my fingers. Before the light even turned green again, my legs stiffened, pressing hard against the floorboard of the car, and I had a thunderous orgasm.
Just as the light changed, I wiped my juices from my hand so I could grip the wheel to drive and pulled away slowly. I had no idea what the woman must have been thinking, and at that point, I had too many other things on my mind to really care.
I was on my way to an address that Julie had given me that morning. I had no idea what I would find when I got there or what I might be required to do.
All that I knew for certain was that I was driving through the city, naked from the waist down, all on the orders of an 18- year-old student from my senior English class. My god, my god.
But I guess I'm getting a little ahead of myself. I need to provide a bit more background.
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Almost from the minute I left Julie's apartment after I seduced her that day, I began to feel this overwhelming guilt. Here I was, a respected teacher who had just done a terrible thing to one of my students. It didn't matter that Julie seemed to be a willing participant. I was the authority figure in this situation, and I should have acted accordingly.
Driving home, I could still feel the moisture in my cunt, my arousal still fresh in my mind and my body. And, my god, did that sweet young body do something to me! I felt light-headed from everything that had happened.
I shook my head to try to bring myself back to my senses, vowing that I could not possibly let anything happen again between Julie and me. There was much too much at stake—my career, my marriage, not to mention her delicate psyche. And, of course, there was my own psyche, which was also pretty screwed up right then.
For the rest of the weekend, thoughts of Julie kept flitting in and out of my mind. Little images, the sounds, smells, sensations of my time with her kept coming back. And each time my nipples would stiffen and I would feel that moistening between my legs.
I wasn't sure how I was going to do it, but on Monday I had to tell Julie what a mistake it was for me to do that to her on Saturday. I'd ask her forgiveness, beg her not to tell anyone, and pray that one day I would be able to look back on the incident and say, "What the hell were you thinking?"
But when the seniors began to file into my class on Monday, I realized it wasn't going to be so easy to maintain my resolve. My eyes searched the faces of the students as they came in and found their seats until I found Julie. When she saw me looking at her, she blushed a little and gave me a smile that said she was enjoying the secret that only the two of us knew. At least I prayed that only two of us knew!
She was wearing the denim mini that always made me crazy when I saw her in it. She had paired it with a white blouse that buttoned up the front, and I could see through the rather thin material that she was wearing a black demi-bra underneath. Two buttons of the blouse were already undone, displaying a good bit of her tanned chest. She smiled a little wider, as she noticed my reaction to her sexy outfit and took her place in her usual spot in the first row directly in front of my desk.
Even though I was shaken at seeing Julie for the first time since Saturday, especially wearing an outfit that was so obviously calculated to get my attention, I realized I had a class to teach. So I set about starting a review of some of the things that were going to be on the final exam scheduled for Friday.
I was grateful to be able to turn around and write things on the dry erase board because each time I turned away from the class, it gave me the chance to collect myself a bit and try and gain some control. But each time I turned back, there was Julie, sitting there in her sexy outfit, with that cute little grin on her face.
And to make matters worse each time I turned around, I noticed that her legs were spread just a bit farther apart. It was obvious that she was teasing me, trying to see how I would react. Once, as I was trying to explain a concept from one of the novels I'd assigned, Julie casually reached up and unfastened two more buttons on her blouse, allowing me to glimpse more of the ample cleavage that she had placed on display.
When I saw that, the words caught in my throat, and I had to fake a coughing spell to give me time to recover. But the last straw came when I turned around from the board once more to see that Julie had allowed her skirt to ride up nearly to her waist. I could see the boy to her left trying to get a look out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't have the angle that I did. He couldn't tell, as I could, that Julie was not wearing panties!
That was all I could handle, and I told the class to review on their own for the rest of the period and sat at my desk pretending to look through some papers. Of course, what I was really doing was sitting there watching Julie, studying her young pussy as she intentionally displayed it for me, remembering what it felt like, tasted like. It was fortunate that I was sitting right then, because my legs were too weak to hold me up.
Finally, the bell broke through the quiet hum of the classroom and brought me back from my daydream about Saturday at Julie's apartment. The students looked as if they had been ejected from their seats, they were up so quickly, eager to be out of school for the day and onto some fun.
But Julie didn't move at the sound of the bell. She sat there, legs spread a bit too wide, blouse unbuttoned much too far, and waited as the classroom emptied. Finally, she rose casually from her seat and smiled again at me as she began to collect her things.
"Julie," I said, trying to make my voice sound as teacher-like as possible, "we need to talk. Would you mind staying for just a bit?"
"Sure, Mrs. Robertson." She certainly seemed a lot more relaxed about the whole situation than I, and that made me feel even more uncomfortable.
After the last student had exited, I turned to Julie, again making an attempt at my most professional demeanor. I had a mental argument with myself about whether I should close the classroom door, and decided it would be much better to leave it open. I hoped the open door would minimize the temptation I was feeling.
