This story is entirely fictional - I would never teach highschool. All parties in this story are over the age of 18.
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The classroom was filled with the slight sound of pencils scratching paper. I glanced up lazily from my phone at the students. For the most part, their heads were down, brows furrowed, eyes on paper.
I taught US History at my town's local high school. This particular group was my AP class. Generally that meant these were the good students, the high achievers with dreams of moving far away from this dreary place to pursue exotic degrees in private colleges around the country. To each their own. The glories of higher education never really appealed to me. That's why I became a highschool teacher.
An angel-faced girl sitting in the back of the room picked up her paper and strode up to my desk, her skirt tripping along with each step. I noticed some of the boys looked up as she passed. One of the girls did too.
"Here you go, Mr. G," she said, casually tossing the paper down on my desk. Her phone had leapt to her other hand and was absorbing her attention. "I'm done with my test. Can I go now?"
I sighed. "No, Ava, you cannot."
She looked up at me with her round hazel eyes and leaned over my desk a little, her shirt hanging slightly open to reveal the tops of her breasts. When she spoke, she affected a cutesy voice. "Are you positive? Derrick is waiting for me at lunch. I finished my test! I even answered every question."
As I said, most of the students were here to further their education. Perhaps when she signed up for the class, that had been Ava's intention as well; however, early in the semester her parents made a sizable donation to Emerson college, all but guaranteeing her enrollment. With the pressure of college acceptance lifted, Ava adopted a bohemian approach to her education. She turned in most tests when she got bored, leaving several questions unanswered.
I get it, she has more interesting things to do than study for a pointless AP history exam. It still bugged the hell out of me. Worse yet, after every test, this same routine played out. And every time, I had to tell her:
"It's a school rule. You can't leave the testing room until everyone is done, I don't care if your boyfriend is waiting for you. And Ava? You're not allowed to have your phone out, either. Please put it away, or I'll have to take it."
She pouted and flounced back to her chair without another word. I gave her a cheeky smile as she turned to sit down and made a show of picking my own phone back up. She rolled her big doey eyes back at me.
For the next ten minutes, I read a news story about climate change and our impending doom as several other students dropped their tests off and loped back to their desks. Then, a glint of light flashed on the back wall of the room caught my eye. A small rectangle of light danced on the back wall, high up near the ceiling. I guessed it was sunlight reflecting off a cellphone. I scanned the back row and saw Ava, head down, hands in her lap, playing with something.
With another sigh (I do this a lot. Many highschool teachers do) I got up and approached the back row. Ava looked up a second before I arrived, her eyes full of surprise, and something more dire as well. I saw the phone in her lap as I surmised, and quickly plucked it up.
"What did I tell you about this, Ava?"
She stammered, her usual air of teenage arrogance replaced with sudden anxiety. "I- I- I was just-"
"Later," I cut her off. "We'll talk about this after testing hours." I walked back to my desk and sat down, opening a drawer as I did so to put the phone away. Then I noticed the phone was still on, and what exactly was on its screen.
It was a photo of a bare pussy, framed by the cloth of a red plaid skirt, spread open by two slender tan fingers. The photo was still hovering in a text bubble that was about to be sent to a contact labeled "Derrick."
I looked up at Ava. Her face went pale as she stared back for a split second before quickly looking away. I played back the memory of her walking to my desk, her red plaid skirt bouncing lightly.
I didn't know what to think. But as I stared at the photo, my pants tightened. Generally, I tried to keep a good distance from my students. Really, the inner lives of highschoolers are not all that interesting. Even if they could be vaguely sexy, it's their immaturity and narrow world view that bores me to no end. Still, I couldn't deny Ava's attractiveness. Her slender form, small yet perky tits, a bubbly butt, and a confident, elitist attitude that could only come from years of casual wealth ticked all my boxes.
I surreptitiously opened up her photos and scrolled through them. It seemed Ava was quite the model. Here was a photo of her sucking on her finger, her naked tits pushed together by her arms. Here she was kneeling ass up in front of her bedroom mirror, her middle finger disappearing into her wet slit.
As more tests were handed in, my arousal grew. By the time the bell rang, I had made up my mind. As the students sidled out of my classroom, Ava approached my desk. I could see she had made up her mind, too. That is, she was going to act like nothing was wrong.
"Hey Mr. G, I'm sorry I was texting, can I have my phone back?"
I waited for the last student to close the door behind them before I spoke. "It's possible, Ava. It's very possible. First, I want you to answer me something. Do you recognize this pussy?"
I held up her phone, showing her the photo of her pussy framed by a red skirt. Her eyes went wide. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. All she could do was shake her head.
"That's interesting. It was on your phone, and the skirt matches the one you're wearing right now. Could it be a coincidence?"
She nodded shakily.
