Megan Ch. 02

Chapter 2: Megan

The few weeks off we had were good for me. It gave me time to think and to get my bearings. Yes, when I got home, I fantasized about Megan- about taking her and making love to her over and over again. But that was wrong and I knew it. I even briefly fantasized about dating her after she graduated, but that was just stupid. Rumors alone were enough to destroy a teacher's career. Rightfully, the parents, administration and parish would have turned on me, and I'd be lucky to find another teaching gig within a thousand miles once it came out. So, I did the right thing: I kept my fantasies to myself, and spent a nice, quiet Christmas with my parents, sister and her little family.

When we returned in January, then, I was both disheartened and relieved when I saw Megan walking down the hallway with a boy, holding hands. Over the break, it seems, she had gotten a boyfriend. To my great annoyance, a rush of jealousy swept through me. Grow the fuck up, I thought to myself. This was good though, I knew. I could feel a wall going up; I was pulling away emotionally even though that wasn't what I wanted.

At the end of January, Megan stopped by my class after school. Though she was still beautiful, I had forced myself to stop seeing her that way; Megan was a student- a very good and smart student- but a student, sacrosanct and inviolable. She looked around the classroom, and then asked, "Mr. W., can I ask you something?"

"Sure Megan. What's up?" I stopped erasing the board and turned to look at her.

"Are you mad at me?" She asked as she took a seat in the front row. Her voice quavered slightly; I could hear the nervous sadness in her tone.

"No," I said quickly, a little surprised. "Why would you think that?"

"You just seem different," Megan said. "You don't look at me the same way you used to." The alarms bells started to go off in my head. I started to protest, but Megan pressed on. "I don't know what I'm asking for; I just know that I don't like the way things are." And with that, she stood and hurried out the door. For a moment, I became dizzy, and leaned against my desk. Don't do anything stupid, I thought, but it was too late.

Despite my good intentions, Megan and I began to spend more time together and the line between student and teacher became blurry. I told myself it was fine: she had a boyfriend, and the time we spent together was innocent. Megan liked to help out, and would drop by after school or during study hall. She'd quietly study or help me by grading quizzes as I read through the student's essays or prepared lectures for the next day.

At those times, we tended to talk more informally than what was appropriate- if she cursed and said something like "fuck," I wouldn't correct her. However, if anyone else was around, then Megan would instantly straighten up and become prim and proper. Once, after another teacher had stopped by to visit, I laughed a little, but Megan said, "It's not funny. I don't want you to get in trouble."

One morning in early February, though, our relationship took an interesting turn. Megan had come by during study hall, and asked if I needed her to do anything. "No," I said. "I'm all caught up for once."

"Ok- well do you mind if I do my homework here?"

"No, feel free," I said. And so, she settled down in the front row and started doing her work. After a few minutes though, she stopped.

"It's hot as balls in here. Can I open a window?" She asked.

She was right- the heater had been going full blast. "No, it's freezing outside. I'll turn the thermostat down, though."

"Fine," she said, with a hint of grumpiness. After a bit of time, she asked, "Can I go to the bathroom for a minute?" I nodded, thinking nothing of it. When she came back, she had a naughty look on her face and said quietly, "I feel so much better."

"Oh?" I asked. She nodded, looking more mischievous than ever. "What?" I asked.

She laughed a little and said, "You don't want to know..." Megan knew full well, however, that I did. I narrowed my eyes and just looked at her. "Ok, but don't say I didn't warn you..." Her voice trailed off, soft, and seductive.

"Tell me," I whispered. I could feel my cock beginning to stiffen. I didn't know what it was, but her manner was turning me on.

She beckoned me with her finger, and I obeyed. I leaned over, and she whispered, "I was having trouble getting comfortable, so I took my panties off, and I feel so much better..." Her voice was purring. My eyes went wide, and I pulled back, like it was an electric shock. Instantly, my cock was rock hard and straining against my pants. She looked straight at my crotch, and whispered, "Somebody likes that."

I retreated to my desk and quickly sat down. "You're not serious," I said, knowing full well that she was. She was in the standard school uniform for Fridays: a white, starched shirt and a khaki skirt that was supposed to go down to her ankles- but like every Catholic school girl in the history of humanity, she had folded it under so much that it only went down to her knees. In answer to my question, she just smiled.

The alarm bells in my head were going off, but I couldn't resist. "Prove it," I whispered. Her mouth opened and her eyes got wide in surprise. Megan then looked over her shoulder at the open door to make sure nobody was coming. She then spread her legs a little and pulled her skirt up, inch by inch. The white, thigh high stockings then gave way to her smooth, soft skin, and then I saw her bare, naked pussy. I saw it only for a second, but I saw enough to know that there was a thin strip of neatly groomed pubic hair and that indeed: she was not wearing panties. "Oh my God..." I said, my voice low and surprised. "I don't believe it."

"Oh really?" Megan quietly asked. "Do you want another peek to make sure?"

My face blushed, and I said, "No." But then I quickly told the truth and said, "Yes." Her eyes locked on to me, and she pulled her skirt up again and held it for a few moments longer, letting me drink her in. I then looked up at her as she slowly let the skirt slide back down. "Are you wet?" I managed to hoarsely croak out. She nodded slowly, yet emphatically.

"I am so fucking horny," Megan whispered. She started to say something else, but the bell rang. "Time for class!" She said cheerfully, popping up. And then, she was gone.

Over the weekend, I couldn't get Megan out of my mind. It had gone too far, but I couldn't stop and thought, fuck it. Let's see what happens. For the most part, though, I kind of thought that that was the high water mark, particularly when I saw her hugging her boyfriend before the start of school on Monday. Certainly, pangs of jealousy were there, but it made me feel better knowing that our little secret was safe and that we had some clear limits. Looking, I justified, was not that big of a deal.

Megan, though, didn't come by that day or the next, and I started to worry. I began to imagine that she was spooked by the whole thing and would be uncomfortable talking to me. On Wednesday, she hurried into my room after school, hurried up to me and threw her arms around me in a tight embrace. I started to say something, but she interrupted and said, "I can't stay," and left me standing there a little aroused and very confused. From then on, I only saw her in class. Megan stopped coming by, and after about a week, I stopped expectantly looking for her.