Miss Aphrodite

Author's note: This is my very first attempt ever at writing anything like this, so any constructive criticism is welcome. If there's enough interest, I have plans for two sequels, but I'd like to get enough positive interest to make it worthwhile first! Hope you enjoy.

*

Let me tell you about Miss Aphrodite. That wasn't her real name, of course, just a nickname someone at college had given her. One of the classics nerds, probably -- most likely one of the classics nerds in my nerdy classics class, in fact. Still, nobody could deny it was fitting.

The first day of second-year classics at college, which took place barely a week after my nineteenth birthday, was an interesting one. There was a new teacher, everybody knew that. Ill-informed guesses as to what she would be like formed the bulk of conversation amongst her prospective students; one of the guys from the other class had sidled up to me in English and whispered, 'I've heard she's so old, she was there when all this Roman stuff happened!' before dashing off without so much as a citation as to his sources. The first class she taught was to be mine.

Everyone was in before she arrived, which was unusual for us. The classics students had garnered something of a reputation amongst the rest of the college for a complete inability to be punctual; it was an accurate reputation, at least. As we were soon to find out, her apparent ability to make an entire class on time without ever having met them was kind of consistent with the rest of her: unlike anything we'd ever come across.

I sidled into my usual seat --facing away from the door -- from last year, taking stock of who had dropped out and who had joined in the interim between terms. No real surprises, just a couple of leavers -- who for the most part had shoulders like gorillas and brains to match, belonging more in the gym than the ancient history department -- and a few transfers from the other class. I waved one of the latter category over to sit opposite me, recognising him from my philosophy class. Mike, I think.

'Hey, Dan,' he said simply, settling in the seat across from me. 'Seen the new teacher yet?' It was a predictable opener; she had proved herself to be immensely popular as a topic of conversation without any of us ever having met her.

'Nope,' I responded. 'Nobody has, far as I know.'

'Tom told me she's an amputee.'

I laughed at that. 'Yeah, well, he was trying to tell me she's over two thousand years old.'

'Full of bullshit?' Mike grinned.

'Full of bullshit,' I agreed.

The door opened behind me. There was a sudden hush in the room, although a few female voices carried on chattering without a care in the world. Mike's face instantly changed, his expression moving through amused to awestruck to astonished in an almost alarming display of facial agility.

'What?' I said, oblivious to the gazes of every male in the room instantly shifting to the open door. 'What is -- oh.'

I swivelled in my seat to see what Mike had been so awestricken by, and immediately experienced the same reaction. In the open door was... Well, Tom was full of more bullshit than we could ever have imagined. The nickname 'Miss Aphrodite' was probably coined in the first couple of seconds its creator saw her, and for good reason. If first impressions counted, she was into the billions.

Black hair, drawn into a spiky ponytail at the back and hanging down to her chin at the front, framed a heart-shaped face with perfect skin and deep blue eyes that every male (and lesbian) in the room had got lost in the moment she walked in -- although only momentarily, since the unexpected beauty of her face drew the gaze at first glance, but the rest of the glances were almost certain to head (when they thought she wasn't looking) at the round, firm breasts under the tight black shirt she wore. She was one of those rare women who were both slim and curvy, one of those teachers that your dad hoped you would have trouble with so he had an excuse to join the queue to talk to her on parents' evening. Furthermore, a tight skirt only highlighted the bottom half of what was indubitably the greatest body (to the point that the Aphrodite rule was introduced in debates over who was the sexiest lecturer: it just wasn't fair to pit any normal person against her) anyone in the room had ever been within fifty feet of. A pair of boots left a sizable length of smooth calf and thigh exposed to the world, the vision soaked up by everyone in the room. Even some of the straight girls perked up.
I didn't believe in love at first sight, but if I did, I would probably have thought I was in love.

'Whoa,' I heard fifteen male voices, fresh out of adolescence, breath in unison.

'Hello,' she said. The first word she'd spoken to us, and it was perfect in its simplicity. A soft mezzo voice with just a hint of vibrato to it. Probably a singer, I thought. It was tinged with nervousness, though, hinting that perhaps she was not as experienced -- at least at teaching -- as most of us had been expecting.

'How old d'you reckon she is?' Mike whispered across the table to me. 'Only a couple of years older than us, right?'

I nodded in agreement, suddenly conscious that I was staring. No wonder she was nervous with an entire roomful of students mentally undressing her. She really shouldn't have been allowed to teach, or at least put in charge of some five-year-olds who didn't have the faintest idea of how perfect the soft curve outlined from neck to breasts to flat stomach was, or what was to be found where her long legs met under that skirt, where her hips swayed as she walked.

The lesson began much as everyone expected, which is to say she introduced herself and said something about Ancient Rome probably, but nobody listened. As it turns out, having teachers who can reasonably be compared to the goddess of lust is a bad thing for productivity. I drifted in and out of focus on the subject matter, having already read up on everything I'd need to know. It was lucky really. I wouldn't need to listen for the first couple of weeks or so, and that left me free to daydream. Hearing my name tacked to the end of a question, I glanced up from the naked woman I'd been absently doodling on my pad and gave a quick answer. She flashed a genuine smile in my direction with apparent relief that somebody, at least, was able to function in her presence (in areas other than the crotch). That said, though, I was under her spell as much as any other in the room. It wasn't just me wondering how those long, soft fingers or those perfectly shaped lips would feel wrapped around my cock, but my imagination was definitely working overtime.

I shifted in my seat, trying to conceal a growing bulge in my lap. A quick glance around the room told me that the other guys were doing the same, posed as they were in awkward cross-legged poses. Not only that, but I noticed with surprise that several of the girls had adopted similarly guarded positions, their cheeks slightly flushed and lips parted in tell-tale signs of arousal. The air in the classroom took on a hazy charge of sex and desire, a frisson of the promise of pleasure passing between everyone in the room. There was no way she could fail to notice this.

Maybe she was even feeling it too, some naïve part of my brain whispered.

'..Dan?'

Shit. She was asking me something.

I looked up, staring intently at the board to avoid getting my gaze caught in her body. 'Sorry, what?'

She cleared her throat.

Fuck me, even that's sexy! It was such an innocent noise, but somehow to my lust-addled brain it carried the promise of a wet tongue and soft lips sliding over... oh, fuck, she's talking to me again.

'I was just saying, could you fill in the blanks here?' She gestured to a line on the board. 'Gaius Julius Caesar'... and the rest was obscured by the roundness of her breasts.

I tore my eyes away quickly. It wasn't my fault I'd been caught (probably) looking at her chest, I was just trying to read!

How the fuck am I meant to tell her I can't read it 'cos her tits are in the way...?

'Er... could you move a bit? I can't read the...' I trailed off.

'Sorry?'

Fuck off did you not understand that.

'Could you just... shuffle a bit that way?' I gestured feebly.

There was a slight pause, then she glanced down at her own breasts.

A strange noise came over the entire class. Like a wave building up but never coming down to crash on the shore, a stifled utterance caught in the throat of every one of us. Somewhere between amusement, trepidation and lust, it worked its way up from below our stomachs into our mouths, where we caught it before it erupted.

Miss Aphrodite blushed. It didn't help the general aura of arousal in the vicinity.

'Um... sorry,' she murmured quietly. I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She was new, nervous and probably regretting having been born with such a desirable body. She took a step backwards, the breasts that had been obscuring the board bouncing just a little as she moved.

'Um, born 100, died 44 BC,' I said as quickly as possible in response to the question, which as it turned out was as simple as 'Gaius Julius Caesar:? -? BC'. She nodded, looking simultaneously relieved and embarrassed.

The rest of the class passed without much incident, until the end came.

'Dan?'

I turned in surprise as I filed out of the room. Always last to leave, and perhaps it worked to my advantage this time.

'I'll wait for you,' Mike offered, but she raised a hand.

'I might need him for a while,' she said perfectly calmly.

My brain exploded. As did twin sensations of lust and excitement that had been building up in my stomach and balls ever since she walked in; I gasped quietly as I felt my cock swell up instantly, pressing out in the front of my pants. Mike looked intrigued for a moment, but hid it well, mouthing 'Fuck!' at me as he left.

'What's this about?' I asked as soon as the door was closed behind him.

'Oh, nothing,' she said in that beautifully balanced voice, walking over to the door to lock it. I tore my eyes away from the back of her skirt as it swayed gently, determined to maintain eye contact. 'It's just that... well, you're obviously quite bright.'

I cleared my throat awkwardly, rubbing a hand over my hair as I did when I was complimented. 'I guess so.'

'So it isn't like you would need extra tuition, but you would be the ideal candidate to help me with some... extra-curricular activities.'

I blinked. Gone was the nervous new teacher. In her place was a woman who was sexy as fuck, and she knew it. Seriously, though, 'extra-curricular activities'? That was a line straight out of a bad 80s B-movie. For that matter, this whole situation was hardly believable. Either someone up there in heaven was really looking out for me, or I'd been unknowingly cast in a terribly clichéd porno.

'Um... like what?' I asked tentatively, not daring to hope that it would be what I was starting to suspect it might.

'Well...' She reached for the first button on her tight black shirt. Her fingers took hold of it and pulled lightly, sliding it through the hole. With that simple movement, I became hers.

'Is this..?' I breathed, my eyes following her fingers as they traced a smooth line down her front, delicately unbuttoning her shirt, the thin material pulling away from where it had nestled close to her smooth skin.

'Nobody can see,' she half-whispered, round blue eyes gazing straight into mine.

It was true; the blinds over the main windows were down because we'd been using the projector, and there were no windows between this room and those around it. That wasn't really what I was worried about, though...

'But this is...'

'We're both adults,' she told me in that same semi-silenced murmur, her delicate fingers pulling her shirt slowly open.

I would have argued further, but I couldn't. The black material parted, sliding away, and my eyes became unable to move from the sight of perfectly curved, smooth breasts under a black lace bra, almost spilling out over it. Her chest rose and fell slightly as she breathed heavily; I could see every movement highlighted by those perfect tits swelling faintly within their lace encasement. Soft skin descended from underneath, a flat stomach leading down into that tight skirt. She pushed me into a chair with a gentle, almost caring movement that nevertheless highlighted who was in charge here, moving so close that I could make out tiny, fine hairs just above her waistband, the faint dark circle of an areola under the semi-opaque bra. Her arms stretched backwards to shrug off her shirt; the motion pushed her chest towards me, my face almost touching the firm roundness.

'I...' I wanted to say something, but all my mouth could do was flop around stupidly as she placed a hand firmly on my chest and raised the other to my lips, sealing them with a soft, long finger.

I stared up at her as she looked down at me, her big blue eyes the picture of mock innocent seduction. Her hair fell, untidily now, around her face, framing it with strands of black. Glistening lips slightly apart, the focus of her eyes travelled slowly down my body and to the very obvious bulge of my cock, which intensified under her stare. It was like she was stroking it with her gaze, caressing it to greater length.

I wasn't exactly the kind of guy you'd expect a woman like her to go for, I guess. I wasn't built like the football team, just athletic enough to get by. What most didn't know, though, was that a lifetime of gymnastic training had toned my body under my clothes, hidden to the unsuspecting, to a smooth hard musculature. The hand on my chest flexed against the muscles, apparently enjoying them.

And I was no porn star, but I was definitely well-built down there. Big enough for her, judging by the way she gently bit her lower lip as her stare massaged my shaft.

My breathing quickened, almost hyperventilating as the hand on my chest moved gently but firmly downwards; I would have bet any money that she could feel my heart thumping as her palm glided across it. The finger that stood like a bridge across my lips pressed a little firmer for a fraction of a moment, then withdrew, hooking itself under the cup of her black bra and pulling gently; as she swayed with the motion, her ample breast bounced freely within the loosened bra.

I willed her to remove it completely, but she wasn't going to give me the satisfaction that easily. The hand at her chest withdrew, snapping the bra back with a motion that set the expanse of exposed breast jiggling madly with hypnotic movements, and came to rest on my thigh, only a few inches from my balls. Her fingers stroked the inside of my leg through my jeans, sending electric tingles the short distance across my skin to my ever-growing erection as her other hand reached my navel, brushing her fingers against it. She pulled up my shirt, almost tickling the skin above my waistband with quick movements.

Jesus fuck, was about all my mind could come up with to think in this situation. Her fingers made motions on my skin, passing around my cock but never quite touching it; the hand on my stomach quickly dipped beneath my waistband, but almost immediately retreated back upwards.

So I was being seduced by the biggest fucking tease of all time. Great. Not that I could complain, I had to admit as I watched her tits swinging inches from my face, restrained by the lace bra. Her torso swayed with the motions of her hands, each movement bouncing those beautiful breasts closer to freedom, but never quite managing it. The edge of an areola peeked out over the edge of its cup, but she slowly pushed it back inside, the soft flesh yielding at her touch. She gazed at me with those blue eyes the entire time, her gaze almost scientific in its penetration and examination. No part of my body escaped it; I might as well have been naked. Kind of wished I was, but it was evident what was going to happen:

She was going to keep teasing, and I was going to keep coming back.

Her fingers flitted inside my pants again, almost tickling with their light contact. Sensation flickered up my skin as they moved underneath my clothing, never quite touching my cock. I leaned forwards, a low moan rumbling in my throat, but she pulled back slightly, keeping the perfect curves so close to my face that it was unbearable not to be able to touch them. Her hands continued to work around my crotch, bringing me to an unbelievable hard-on without ever touching it, as I withdrew; as she came towards me again I quickly lunged forwards and kissed the top of her breast forcefully. She pulled back quickly, tits heaving in her bra with the movement. I simply enjoyed their motion, comfortable in my tiny victory.

'That's enough for today, I think,' she said suddenly, turning and bending down to pick up her shirt. I watched as her skirt highlighted the roundness of her ass, wondering how the hell I was meant to hide the bulge in my lap.

'Are we going to do this again?' I asked cautiously.

'You will become the head of the classics club,' she told me, in a tone that made it an order rather than a request. 'That will provide an excuse for us to spend time together.'

I nodded, wondering how long we could keep this up. How long she was going to make me wait before she so much as touched my cock.

Shirt back in place, Miss Aphrodite strode to the door. Her long legs moved with such grace, I thought, now even more conscious of the subtle bounce and jiggle of her breasts every time she moved. Unlocking the door, she beckoned me out, and that was the end of our first meeting.

+++++

Mike cornered me later, as expected.

'So what did she want?!' he asked, eyes almost literally shining with excitement. I guessed (correctly, I would later find) that rumours of what had happened in that closed-off room had already begun to spread.

'She asked me to be head of the classics extra-curricular group,' I said, remembering her instructions. I wondered now how much effort this affair was going to take; if I was actually going to take on duties as head of a group, it was going to be time-consuming to say the least.

Mike looked almost disappointed at the mundaneness of it. 'So I guess you and her are going to be having a lot of... one-on-one meetings, huh?'

I grinned, as would be expected of me. 'Guess you could say that.'

He punched me affectionately in the arm, a gesture I've never understood but accepted anyway. 'Have fun with that one. Hoo boy.'

I rubbed the back of my head, hair flicking out untidily. 'It should be... interesting.'

Mike grinned, looking both jealous and immensely amused. 'When are you gonna start your club then?'

I shrugged. 'Guess I'll have to talk to her about that one.'

+++++

An opportunity to do so came sooner than I'd expected; I passed her in the corridor after the last lesson of the day. She had regained that innocent look of clumsiness, nervousness, inexperience. A pile of folders and books was clutched in her arms, held against her stomach, pushing up those perfect breasts to which I had been so close. I noticed an air of desire surrounding her, every man in the vicinity wanting her. I wondered if I was the only one she had decided to have.

'Miss?' I asked cautiously as she approached.

'Um... yes?' she replied, maintaining the appearance of innocence that would be expected of a new teacher. Maybe she really was nervous as far as teaching was concerned, but not so much when it came to seduction.

'I was just... d'you want a hand with those?'

Her blue eyes flitted, for the briefest moment, towards her breasts.

Not those. Well, those too, but... Fucking hell.

'Oh, the -- oh!' She flashed a few perfectly white teeth in my direction, a strand of hair falling across her face as she shuffled a few of her books in my direction. I glanced briefly at the title of the topmost volume: The Romans and Sex. I was almost unsurprised, given how the day had gone so far.