Teacher Dreaming

"Good morning Uncle Taylor," words I have become so accustomed to but every day they seem to have such an amazing effect.

For a minute, I'm hesitant, unsure how to respond. A simple good morning in return would work.

How does my voice sound? How do I look? You can't help but be so sensual, it's like a part of you that you can't control, no matter how business-like you are dressed, there is always some level of allure in the way you carry yourself.

It's the subtleties that ruin my brain on a daily basis. I know I shouldn't be feeling this way, and I try to convince myself that I am not. After all, you don't have the remotest attraction to me, I'm sure of that.

"Good morning Uncle Taylor," so familiar, so normal, so amazing. It's uncanny how the simplest of greetings can stir such emotions.

I respond without looking up, as is the norm, we hardly exchange looks except at a safe distance from each other. Is there something happening that I don't know, or am I just trying to create what has been a growing desire, that you would somehow feel the same way that I do.

Today you're wearing that dress, the grey one, the one that I love to see... It was made for you, made to rest lightly on your sensuous curves. It holds but doesn't squeeze, it covers but cannot conceal how dangerously sexy you are. It fits you the way I would love to fit you into my arms, close, secure, snug, but not smothering.

Enough so that my fingers can run down your neck, across your shoulders, and down to the small of your back. I'll let my hands caress your smooth ass, still covered in that dress, tantalizingly close to my touch, but still with the thin veneer of cloth, enough to tease you and me without trying.

I'm daydreaming about this when you call my name again... I wish you would say it while I'm making you cum.

"Do you have a pen I can borrow?" Yes I do, but I really want to take my hard cock and write a white line across your belly, and massage it into your skin.

If any woman on this planet has the perfect proportions, it's you. Your lips are full enough to make kissing you a dream, your cute breasts can fit in my mouth, while I lightly suck on them and tease my tongue across your nipples. Your hips are the right width to be held firm, to pull you forward onto my hardness, or back, so my cock can nestle between your firm ass cheeks. Sorry, the pen.

It's lunchtime, there is no one around. You get up to go to the bathroom. I get up to come to you. I stand outside the door. You open, I stare, you jump.

For a minute, the world has stopped. In a minute, I have already ravaged your body, slowly, softly, forcefully. I stand with a look of intent, you stand with a look of confusion mixed with a dusting of surprise and a drop of desire. This is too bold, too much, too fast, too sudden, too...

Our lips are locked, I have lost track of a few moments. How did this happen? I want it, but I am now a little scared. You are melting into my hands, which are wrapped around you in a manner that conveys how much I want you.

We're at school, there is no time... No time for me to drop slowly to my knees... No time for me to kiss my way from your ankles up your legs to your knees. No time for me to slowly lick the inside of your thighs, intoxicated by the aroma of your instantly moist and already pulsing Garden of Eden. No time for my lips to wrap around your swollen clit, and hold the love button captive as I lash it with my tongue.

There is really no time for my hands to grab hold of your ass, and pull you closer. To feel you start a slow, maddening grind on my mouth while you hold onto the door for the strength your knees have lost.

I can't get to feel the ecstasy of slowly coming up to look you in the eyes, walking you back a few steps, pushing you back against the sink, lifting your right leg, and parting the petals of your fragrant flower with the head of my hardness.

The walls of your pussy contract and grip the shaft of my rod, which is now buried into you. Your hands are over my shoulders, around my neck, and your eyes are closed, concentrating all of your energy into relishing the feeling of me inside you. Your breath is deep, I can feel it's warmth on my face.

You are so close already, and I want to savour the moment. I stop thrusting and stop, balls deep in you, and you squeeze my cock even tighter with your pussy. You start to fuck me back straining towards and explosive orgasm that will shatter every sense of reason inside of you.

I feel it, you feel it, like a tide of sexually repressed energy suddenly rising to drown us in sea of total release. You cum on my cock, thrusting forward and squeezing your vaginal muscles as if to suck my own orgasm from my balls. This sends me over the edge, and I can't pull out of you, my hot semen shooting inside of you like a fireman's hose trying to quench the fires of desire boiling within us. "Oh shit Uncle Taylor...!"

There is just no time, I stare, you stare, we feel it, but we can't have it. Why am I even standing here?

"Which colour, blue or black?" I ask, coming back to reality. "Blue," you respond with a smile. I really need to stop daydreaming and focus...