I had a hot teacher in school. A really hot teacher - let me explain. She was in her early thirties with a face that belonged on billboards. She taught English Lit during my final year at school and it was both a blessing and a curse. Her smile, style and luscious figure were reasons to pay attention. As an 18 year old senior year student with her spot at university secured, I needed reasons to pay attention. On the other hand, my attention wandered all too quickly to dirtier words and stories than Shakespeare's. Ms. Lips (as I'll call her) had the physical attributes of a wet dream matched with unparalleled insight, humor and wit. She was a delight for the eyes and the mind.
Now I don't mean to brag but I was an excellent student of literature. My writing may not be much but I have a keen eye for reading between the lines. And reading between her lines told me I was the object of her favoritism. I know, teachers shouldn't pick favorites but hey, everyone has a weakness and I was happy to be the benefactor of hers.
The real story starts towards the end of my senior year. Ms. Lips needed a volunteer to stay after school and clear her filing cabinets before graduation and needless to say, I was all too happy to offer my time. We picked a balmy, sunny Friday in June for the work and I headed to her room after classes. I tried to hide my smile as I thought about ogling her sexy figure with no one else around.
"Hi Ms. Lips, are you ready to get started?" I greeted her with enthusiasm. Besides being incredibly attractive, she was also my favorite teacher.
"Maya, hi. I've got an overflowing filing cabinet for us - I hope you're ready for some long, dusty hours of work," she winked and laughed, waving me over to the cabinets at the back of the room. I cracked a smile; it was hard not to smile with her around. As she walked away I got a good look at her outfit. She was wearing a curve-hugging pencil skirt with heels that made her ass perk up ever so slightly. Her blouse was buttoned and tucked into the skirt. I couldn't wait for a closer look at the front.
I joined her at the cabinet and she proceeded to give me instructions for clearing out the files. There was a semester's worth of essays and exams collecting dust that needed to be recycled before summer break began. According to Ms. Lips, I was to save the highest-scoring essay for each student to present to them as a pre-graduation gift. She wanted to save these as examples of their hard work and progress throughout the year. I had to admit it was pretty cute.
Ms. Lips and I got to work pulling out stacks of paper and organizing them by student. As the stacks grew higher I started to sweat. The school had no central air conditioning and got progressively warmer throughout the day. By 4 pm, the heat and humidity had permeated the rooms and hallways so thoroughly that there was little reprieve save for in the basement. Of all my classes chemistry was the most bearable; the English wing, unfortunately, was located on the hellish second floor. I fanned myself with a B+ paper and shared a knowing laugh with Ms. Lips.
"Let me grab some water for us. I'll be right back," she said. I watched as she walked away, a bead of sweat slipping down the side of my neck. After a few moments she returned with two tall glasses of ice water. My throat begged for the cool, clean liquid and some relief from the heat.
"This," she handed me a glass and stepped in close, "is from the teachers lounge, not the water fountain. You better enjoy it," she joshed. We laughed and I noticed that the top button of her blouse was undone. She must have unbuttoned it when the room became unbearably hot. The standing fan blew a steady stream of humid air from across the room, moving the collar of the blouse just enough for me to get occasional glimpses of cleavage. I imagined the cool water dribbling in between those gorgeous tits. I tried to keep my eyes up.
"I'm honored," I exaggerated. We continued working, crossing one another's paths to drop each essay into the right pile until the stack in the filing cabinet was only a foot high. I turned to the cabinet to grab another essay and bumped into Ms. Lips. She was bent over, and I mean all the way over. I stumbled trying to get away, grabbing the cabinet door for support. Why is it that in situations so uncomfortable one always seems to trip? I steadied myself, cursing my imbalance, but just then she did something even stranger. Ms. Lips, in a maneuver that can only be described as unnecessary and intentional, stepped back just enough for her backside to press against me.
I froze - I may be physically awkward at times but I'm not blind, and I know an advance when I see one. I wondered if I should move away but as Ms. Lips continued to shuffle through the papers, I decided to stay right where I was. I couldn't complain; my pelvis was pressed against her firm, tight ass. The same one I'd been watching all year. I grabbed the other cabinet door and admired the sight in front of me until she stood up.
Ms. Lips relaxed her body against mine and let out an almost inaudible moan. I exhaled the breath I'd been holding and felt the curve of her back molding against me. My head was spinning and I could feel my pulse in my damp neck. I took a risk and placed one hand on her waist, pressing myself into her further. I held back a moan as I ever so slightly pushed up and down on her ass. Ms. Lips rocked her hips just enough to match my movement.
"Fuck," I thought. I couldn't believe this was happening. I briefly thought about stopping but the feeling of her body was too good to pass up. I'd been fantasizing about my sexy teacher for a year and now here she was, gyrating against me so tantalizingly slowly. I threw aside my caution and wrapped my arm around her waist, rocking against her more noticeably. Ms. Lips rocked further with me, staying in time with my movements.
I smelled her shampoo; it was sweet and fresh against the characteristic mustiness of old papers and humid buildings. I slipped my arm up until it was just under her breasts. I touched her left breast while keeping the movement in our hips going. I rubbed against it with a flat palm and my fingers ached to get involved. Ms. Lips pushed her chest forward and I obliged, closing my hand around her generous flesh. I moaned audibly into her ear, continuing to grind against her like she implied she wanted. I felt my heartbeat thud in my chest and the telltale heat between my legs. My clit was swelling and just then I realized she might be able to feel it. Ms. Lips turned around and distracted me from the thought.
"You're enjoying this aren't you?" She asked, her eyes glazed over and lips plump. Her beautiful face was so distracting I almost choked on my words.
"I am. I can't help it- you're ridiculously sexy" I admitted. Ms. Lips moaned in appreciation.
"I knew you thought so. I could tell from the way you watched me in class. It turned me on, the way you watched me move. I know you love it when I wear a skirt," she blurted out.
"You knew?" I was surprised but not shocked; the way my eyes undressed her every day couldn't have gone completely unnoticed. Ms. Lips nodded and leaned in for a kiss. I pressed my mouth against hers and felt the warmth of those gorgeous lips. I kissed her soft, full set of lips while my clit grew harder and longer.
"And you let me watch you?" I asked slyly but cautiously.. I was starting to understand why her clothing had become more and more eye catching throughout the year - she apparently enjoyed my lustful gaze enough to entice it. She had looked incredible even before the tight skirts and low-cut blouses had come out of her closet but I greatly appreciated the show.
