Experiments

When Stan attempted to open the door, he found it locked. He peered through the tiny rectangle of glass and saw that the room was empty, save for a lone figure in the far corner. Candy Burton stood at her lab station, pouring over the procedure for AP Chemistry's latest lab experiment. She looked up as Stan knocked on the door, then made her way over to let him in.

"Where's Mrs. Brighton?" inquired Stan as he entered.

"She had to go pick her little boy up or something," answered Candy, somewhat disgusted. "I don't know why she bothers scheduling ESS if she's never here."

"Who's coming?" Stan asked.

"I thought it was just going to be us and you guys, but Sherri signed out. Probably got sick or something, you know." As Candy spoke of her lab partner Sherri Calwell, her frustration seemed to increase.

"Yeah, well, Jon backed out on me, too. I thought I could get something done, but it looks like he took the procedure with him. Nothing I can do, I guess. Do you need some help?"

"Well, since I have the most unreliable lab partner in the world, yeah, I could use some help." Candy replied. So she and Stan went to work on something that had to do with micropipette biology or some other damn fool thing. Stan didn't worry too much about the labs, just did what he had to to pass. Candy told him what to do and he did it. It was acctually pretty simple work, which gave his mind time to drift. . .and his eyes time to wonder.

A genius-level cheerleader. Impossible, you say? It would seem so, but Candy was the exception to the rule. She had all the brains of your average rocket scientist, but the unmistakable attractiveness of a cheerleader, and even her alure was unconventional. She was not the skin-and-bones, long-legged, fuck-bunny cheerleader type. She was a bit on the plump side, but she ratiated a heat that no other member of the squad could match. Guys wanted to fuck the other cheerleaders; they wanted to submit to Candy's silent seduction. That's what it was, really: unintentional seduction. There was a way in her walk, the way she dressed, the way she would brush aside a severely curly and deep red lock of hair that made her scream "sex" without being revealing or slutish. It was the subtleness of her sexuality that made her all the more arrousing.

Stan pondered on these thoughts, losing himself in his private fantasies, mechanically going about the business of chemistry lab. His daydreaming was bound to catch up with him sooner or later, and it finally did.

"Could you get me one of the graduated cylinders out of the glassware room?" Candy requested. Stan did as she asked, still daydreaming of what her skin would feel like against his and a hundred other sensations that she could generate. When he came out, he handed the cylinder to Candy.

"Thanks," she said turning toward him and then stopping, staring for the briefest of moments, before turning back to the experiment. It was the fact that she had not stared into his face that shook Stan to reality, that made him cast his gaze to the same spot that Candy's had found: the bulge in his jeans. He turned a furious crimson. Perhaps she hadn't been staring. Perhaps she hadn't saw. But that was impossible. She looked right at it. But she hadn't given any kind of reaction. Yet.

"Could you help me with this?" Candy was lifting a large beaker of solution and poruing it through a funnel into the cylinder. Stan helped steady the heavy container. Abruptly, Candy said, "So, is that a test tube in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me."

Stan blushed brighter than before. Yep, she'd seen. "Um. . .I. . .I didn't. . .I mean, I'm sorry," he fumbled and stumbled over an apology, but gave up when he realized that he was having no success.

"Oh, don't worry about it, but I just wish you'd do something with it instead of just letting it stick out there for everyone to see." Candy said.

"What do you. . ." Stan began.

"You know what I mean," Candy said, her voice taking on a demeaning tone that Stan found quite arrousing. "Something in here had to turn you on. Why don't you go stick that in whatever it is and stop putting on a show for everyone." Taking her cue, Stan walked up behind Candy (who still appeared to wrapped up in her experiment, though Stan suspected it was all part of the game, now). He wrapped his arms around her waist, rubbed her partially exposed stomach, then ran his hands up to her ample breasts and massaged them through the slick, shiny material of her shirt. His favorite shirt: the one that looked like rubber from a distance. Her hips grinded softly back into his crotch and she finally began to neglect the experiment as her hands covered his, assisting him as he fondled her tits.

"Come back here," Stan said into her ear, his nose burried in that curly mass of red. He pulled her slightly in the direction of the glassware room, a perfect hiding place for a couple of horny teens.

"No," Candy said somewhat savagely. "If you want to do it, we're doing it here. We're not hiding." Again that demanding, controlling quality had crept into her voice, and Stan was arroused but degected at the same time.

"Jesus, Candy, someone could see us," Stan said and pointed toward the rectangle of glass in the door.

Candy sighed in frustration. "Well, if you don't want to take the risks, you best keep your cock under control." With this she attempted to pull away, but Stan held her firmly. If this was how she wanted it, and was the only way he could get it, he was more than willing to take the risk. Still standing behind her, Stan unbuttoned and unzipped Candy's jeans and let them fall to her ankles. He then slid her light pink panties down as well. Candy stepped out of them and spread he legs, leaning slightly over the counter, pushing beakers and instruments aside. Stan performed the same operation on his own pants, but only so much as to allow his penis freedom. He rubbed it against Candys bare ass, at which point she reached around and guided it into her honey pot from behind and Stan began pumping.

Candy stretched her arms on the counter in front of her, remaining bent over, her head lowered. Stan placed one hand on her hip and brought the other around to grasp her breast and pull her up toward him.

"Oh, yeah," Candy moaned, reaching over her head and placing a hand on the back of Stan's neck, pulling them still closer. Stan continued to thrust as Candy wirthed against him.

"Oh, God. Harder, stan. Hurt me. Hurt me, stan," Candy gasped. Stan slammed into her harder and harder, doing his best to fullfill her wish. After several minutes of the increased assault, Candy reached her first orgasm. Her pussy tightened around his cock, her body shook and thrashed. Stan continued his rythm.

Faintly, they heard voices approaching the door. As they grew louder, Candy recognized one as Mrs. Callahan's.

"Oh, shit. Stop, stan. Mrs. Callahan's here." Stan only continued. "stan, she'll catch us."

"You wanted me to take the risk," stan said looking toward the door as Mrs. Callahan appeared in the glass. Luckily, she didn't look in, for she was still holding a conversation with someone. She paused with her back covering the glass. "I'm almost ready to cum. If she catches us now, there's really no use in stopping. If you're scared, you shouldn't have asked for it out here."

This said, Stan placed both hands on Candy's hips and began to pounder her even harder, pulling her into him with each thrust. Candy again bent over the counter, crying out with each penetration. As Mrs. Callahan's visitor left, Candy experienced another orgasm. As their teacher fumbled for the key to the room, stan issued a loud grunt as he shot his cum into Candy. As she slid the key into the lock, Candy squeezed with her vagina, thoroghly milking his cock. As the lock clicked and the door openned, Stan pulled out of her, rubbing a few final drops of cum on her ass. As Mrs. Callahan looked in their direction, Stan stepped from behind Candy and pretended to be reading the procedure while Candy kneeled down to look at the measurements on the graduated cylinder while, at the same time, gathering her panties and jeans together.

"Hey, guys," said Mrs. Callahan, and for a brief moment, both stan's and Candy's hearts froze as she headed striaght in their direction. Literrally saved by the bell, her phone ring, prompting her to alter her course. She answered the phone, her view conviently blocked by the fume hood. During this time Candy disappeared below the counter, pulling her undies and pants back on and, on the way up, chancing a quick lick of Stan's cock before he replaced it in his shorts and refastened his pants.

Mrs. Callahan hung up the phone and then walked to the lab station. She apologized for being late, and the kids apologized for their absent partners and for the fact that they had to leave shortly.

"I have everything done except the calculations," said Candy. "I can do those tonight."

"And I can probably get the procedure from Jon and finish mine tomarrow, if that's okay."

Mrs. Callahan said that it was, and bid farwell to Stan and Candy as they walked out the door. Once outside, Stan said in a low voice, "Need some help with those calculations tonight?"

"You bet," she replied, smiling. "Think you may need some help with that lab after school tomarrow?"

"Oh, I'm sure I could use a hand," he said, returning the smile.

"Well, I hope you use more than your damn hand," she said. "What a waste that would be."