Ready to Learn.

Memories of My Teacher.... I am going to share a secret. I can’t give you all the details, so you will have to fill in some things on your own. I dreamed about it the other night, and all the memories came flooding back to me.. I don’t really want to say how old I was when this happened.... So I will say that I was 18. You can imagine it as you will. Here is the story that filtered its way into my dream, after many years. I am in my science classroom. For some reason I’ve been given detention – which doesn’t make sense to me. I’ve always been the good girl – the girl that never gets in trouble. I am sitting in my desk, facing the front of the classroom. I am in the last row, at the back of the room. My teacher’s desk is right behind me. Mr. H is sitting in his chair behind me, not saying a word. My heart is racing, not really knowing what I’ve done wrong. I feel like I could cry. A small tear wells up in my eye and slides down my cheek. Mr. H walks up behind me and tells me that I’ve been bad, and that he knows what I’ve done, and what I like. He presses his crotch against the back of my head, and I can feel the swelling of his cock. I lean forward a bit and sit up straight. I had never felt that part of a man before. He puts his hand under my chin and pulls my head back against his body. “I know what a bad girl you are, really. No one else knows, but I can see it in your eyes”, he whispers down to my ear. I try to act surprised, but deep down I know what he is talking about. I was sexual at an early age – I used to look at my older b*****r’s porn magazines when I was younger. I found them peculiar and very enthralling, at first. Later, I came to desire the men and women in the stories and photos. “Will my body look like this some day?”, I would think. While other girls my age were reading s*******n and TeenBeat, I was looking at Hustler, Playboy and Chic. No one knew I was reading them – or maybe they did, I don’t know. I would sneak into his closet and pick one or two from the bottom of the stack and hide them in my room. My first orgasm was when I was __ years old. (too embarrassed to say). I read a story in one of the magazines on how to pleasure a woman, and I did everything to myself that was described in the story. I fondled my clit – I found it easily – it was hard and sensitive. I fucked myself with the handle of a hairbrush – a little bl**d came out as I did it. No boy was going to have the pleasure of pushing through my virginity. I did it to myself. I was a good girl. Did I mention that? I volunteered in my community, and kept my grades up. I went to church and had great friends. When I was old enough to drive, I gave the seniors at the senior center rides to their doctor appointments. I also fantasized about my preacher, masturbated in the school bathroom, and had filthy thoughts about the other students.... And teachers. No one knew that the girl with the long braids and shy smile craved the experiences that she read about by flashlight under the covers. A few weeks before my detention, I was in science class and the girl next to me (truly a promiscuous slut, from what I had heard whispered in gym class – Nancy was her name) was teasing the boys with a low cut top and exposed stomach. From where I was sitting, I could see right down her shirt. Her perky tits were so cute. They reminded me of one of the girls in Hustler. Natural, tiny tits. Her blonde hair was long and wavy. Her ass was really perky, too. As I looked down her shirt (pretending to be looking over her shoulder at our assignment in lab), I felt warm and turned on. I imagined that I would be thinking of Nancy’s tits while I masturbated later that night. I wondered what her pussy looked like. Nancy was so busy flirting with the boys, she didn’t even notice me. Mr. H walked up behind me in class and apparently saw that I was lingering on Nancy’s breasts. I felt him watching and wasn’t sure what to do. Maybe he was looking at her tits, too? No – he was watching me. I moved my attention to my assignment and pretended I didn’t see him. I was petrified that anyone think of me as a ‘bad girl’. Then, a week later – I was walking to the library after school. It was at the back of campus – and most everyone was at the pep rally on the other side of campus. I had to wait another hour for my ride, so I thought I would escape the noise and read in the library. I went to the back of the 2nd floor and found a cubicle to read in, surrounded by the lovely smell of old books. I had hidden a copy of one of my b*****r’s magazines in my book bag. I don’t remember which one. After about ten minutes of reading and looking at the magazine, I heard the sounds of heavy breathing and muffled moans. I looked around and didn’t see anyone. For a moment, I thought I had imagined it. Then, I peeked through the bookshelf behind me and moved aside a copy of The Fountainhead and saw two people entangled. I felt a rush of excitement. Should I let them know I was there, or sneak out? I should have left quietly, but I had to see more. I looked through and saw a girl using her mouth on someone’s cock. As she withdrew, I could see that it was Nancy – Her shirt was pulled up and her perky tits were reddened and her nipples were tiny and hard. She was sucking and licking that cock - moaning and breathing heavily. Her hands slid back and forth on his shaft – her tongue lingering at the tip. I had never actually seen anyone have any kind of sex. I certainly had not experienced it myself. I could see the strand of saliva mixed with pre-cum hanging from her mouth to the tip of his cock. I knew I should leave, but I couldn’t turn away. I felt my pussy get warmer and wetter – my clit was growing firm and I moved my hips back and forth a bit, trying to relieve the pressure. I was so busy looking at Nancy, I didn’t think about who she was with. When she pulled back from him after he put the full length of his cock into her mouth for a long time ... My god... How could she breathe? I saw that his body didn’t look like the boys in our class. He had hair on his legs and a little on his toned stomach. His hands were large, manly – a little rough. I saw a silver ring on his thumb and had a sudden rush of adrenaline. There was only one man that I knew that wore a silver ring on his thumb – it was Mr. H. I was watching the school slut suck the science teacher’s cock. I stood up straight, quietly. I had to know if it really was him. I peeked through the next shelf up and confirmed my suspicion. He was leaning back against the wall, looking down at her. The lust in his eyes made me feel envious. Would a man ever look into my eyes like that? Like he wanted to fuck my brains out? He pulled Nancy up and turned her around and pressed her up against the wall. He grabbed her tit with one hand and pulled her very short skirt up with the other. No panties to get in the way, he rubbed her pussy a few times and slid his thumb inside of her, while gripping her pussy with his fingers. His middle finger wiggled rhythmically against her clit. She gasped with pleasure. “None of your boyfriends know how to do this, Nancy... They are boys, not men”. He made her cum hard – it was not a pretty orgasm. It was dirty – gritty. She rode his hand until it was soaked. She grunted as she ground her pussy into his hand. She was so delicate and small compared to him. I found myself touching and massaging my breasts and nipples – nervously looking around to see if anyone had ventured upstairs. If they were caught, then I would be caught, too. As her orgasm subsided, her legs started to get shaky. I think she wanted or needed to sit down. “Not yet, Nancy”, Mr. H said, “We are not finished”. He took his hard cock and rubbed it with his hand that was soaked in Nancy’s cum. He pushed against her pussy with one thrust and entered her fully. She held on to the wall for support. She moaned as he thrust against her from behind – hard and steady. His hand moved to her clit - “Oh my God”, she said – not really ready for another orgasm. “Keep quiet”, he ordered. “If you make a noise, I will fuck you in your ass, too”. Nancy bit her lip and stayed quiet. I could see her face – she may have sounded scared, but she was smiling and enjoying every minute. I was rubbing my clit through my clothes. I wasn’t brave enough to take any clothes off. I should walk away, I thought. But I couldn’t stop watching. Mr. H made Nancy cum again – his cock pumping into the far depths of her tight pussy; his hand working her clit. As he reached a fever pitch, he looked into the bookshelf behind which I was hiding. He looked straight into my eyes – and said quietly “you are next.” How could he see me? I could barely see them – how could he know I was there? My body flushed with terror and exitement. I heard him cum, his body slapping against Nancy’s ass. Her muffled groans of pleasure echoed in my ears as I gathered my things and ran out of the literature section and down the stairs. I could feel the slickness of my pussy soak into my panties as I ran. I got my ride home and went to my room early, saying that I wasn’t feeling well. I took a long shower and went to my bed, seeking comfort in the cool sheets. Visions of Mr. H and his younger lover entered my head. I tried to be good – not to touch myself, not to feel pleasure from the scene that I witnessed – but I couldn’t help it. My fingers found the sensitive, wet place, and I came several times that night. I guess I thought that since Mr. H never said anything to me about that day in the library, he must not have known it was me. Or maybe I imagined the whole thing. But no – he waited until my guard was down, when I thought I was out of danger. Back to the day of my detention... I sat on the chair, with my head pressing back into him. He wiped the tear from my cheek. “Are you crying because you are scared, or because you are embarrassed?”, he said. I looked up at him, unable to speak. I felt scared, yes. I felt embarrassed, yes. But not for the reasons that you might think. I was scared, but not of him. I was scared that I wanted him so much. I was breathing heavily by this point. My chest heaved up and down. I was blessed with nice, round, large breasts – much larger than other girls. Without losing eye contact, one hand slipped down my shirt and into my bra. My breasts were tightly contained within my bra. His hand quickly found my nipple and rubbed it until it was hard. I closed my eyes and sighed. He squeezed a little harder, making me wince. I had played with my own tits so often, I was surprised how different it felt at someone else’s hand. “Jane, what you are feeling is normal – I know that you desire me – and I desire you”. He asked me if I wanted to leave. “No”, I said quietly, through my tears. He picked me up from the chair and turned me around to face him. “I know you were in the library. I know you saw me with Nancy. I know you didn’t tell anyone.” His hands unbuttoned my shirt, revealing my simple white bra. It was a front opening bra – he easily unhooked it and released my firm, large breasts. My pink nipples hardened quickly with the rush of cool air. “Did you touch yourself while I fucked Nancy?”, he asked. “yes.”, I responded. “Did you go home and masturbate while thinking of my cock in her mouth?”, he continued. “Yes, I did”, I said. “I didn’t mean to spy.... It’s just that I didn’t know how to leave without you seeing me... And I was curious”. I was finally able to say more than ‘yes’. He told me that he picked that spot in the library because he knew that’s where I liked to go to get away from the crowds. “I know you are curious – and I could teach you some things that you can’t find in magazines. Things that you have to experience first hand”. I blushed when he said this. Did he know about the magazines? “You are different from the other girls – I can see where your mind goes. I like that you are a good, smart girl. You are ready for this.” He leaned down and kissed my soft, pink lips. He kissed me softly while grabbing a handful of my breast, hard. I moaned and felt a little dizzy. “Do you want to learn, Jane?”, he asked, still squeezing my nipple. “If so, follow me to my office. If you want to leave, there is the door. If you want to pretend that this never happened, or that you are not who I know you to be – that is fine.” Mr. H had a small office at the back of the classroom. It held the lab supplies and a small desk. I had peaked in a few times when the door was open, but had never been inside. ‘No Entry for Students’ was printed on the door. I had a feeling that wasn’t exactly true. He walked ahead of me, his pants bulging. I was left standing there –tits hanging out, long flowing skirt grazing the ground. I waited a few seconds and then followed him. He undressed me completely and pushed my long, dark hair behind my shoulders. “You have a lot to learn, Jane”, he said, “.... And I am ready to teach you.” He turned off the lights to the main room and closed the blinds. He returned to his office, where I was waiting. He closed the door and then I heard the click of the lock. I was ready.