The Incentive List

The hard work was paying off; although not a complete turnaround, he was getting better. He was performing better in class and it wasn't escaping the attention of Mrs Parsons; indeed, one exchange gave James the biggest hope yet that his fantasies may come true. Ever since his proposal the two of them had kept a hesitant distance. For James it was a combination of embarrassment -- both at what he had done and also because it had revealed his sexual feelings for his teacher -- and fear; fear that if he spent time alone with her or became too familiar with her, that she would state categorically that this unspoken deal would never be fulfilled. James had speculated why Mrs Parsons had been equally distant with him, but couldn't decide the true reason. Was she simply embarrassed? Uncomfortable? Had her opinion of him plummeted to the extent that she didn't want to engage with him any more? Surely not the latter -- she still greeted his gaze with warm smiles and encouraging words. But the friendly banter was gone. Until the final lesson of the term. Mrs Parsons was prepping her students on the oral part of the exam which was going to be conducted by an external adjudicator. She was privately spending 10 minutes at a time with each student in the language lab, getting them to answer questions about the book they would talking about in the examination.

James did fairly well, and any semi-decent articulation that came out of his mouth seemed to delight and embarrass Mrs Parsons with equal measure. Maybe he was overanalysing, but James felt as if the better he did, the higher on his incentive list she was imagining, and the thoughts were making her blush. Their final exchange of term made James' heart almost burst through his sternum. As he was rising from his seat to fetch the next student from the classroom, Mrs Parsons leaned over to pick some of her notes off the floor. As she sat back upright, her blouse gaped open and James couldn't help but look at the cleavage that was presented. Mrs Parsons seemed to sense this and looked up to catch James in the act. She pressed the blouse flat against her to protect her modesty, and then, casual as you like, said:

"You haven't got the grades yet, James."

The exams came and went. James felt he had done well, but the countdown to results day was unbearable. He had been pleasuring himself with thoughts of Mrs Parsons on an almost daily basis, but in a ridiculously optimistic move had decided to abstain four days before the results were due. He wanted to be 'fresh' and at maximal horniness -- just in case. On the day the results were published, they were available via a phone call or could be seen pinned up on the boards at school. James arrived at school having already phoned to find out his results. His parents were thrilled and delighted with the two 'A's and the 'B' he got in his core subjects -- and of course, so was he -- but the real delight came with his 'C' in French. Or as James liked to think of it, the remote possibility that Mrs Parsons would let him squeeze and suck her breasts.

All the teachers were present. It wasn't an official school day -- the term had ended over a week ago -- and there was a casual air about the place. Teachers renowned for their fearsomeness were laid back and chatty, congratulating and commiserating with equal geniality. Judging by some of the good nature -- and the smell on their breath - there was obviously also some early tipples being shared in the staff room. Many were also dressed down compared to how they would be at term time, including Mrs Parsons. She was wearing skinny jeans and a loose tartan chequered shirt. When James first clocked her she was already staring at him coyly. She was listening to Mr Morris, a chemistry teacher, but her eyes were firmly on James. And so he approached. Mr Morris saw his approach and changed his conversation appropriately.

"And how did we do? Get the grades we needed?"

"Er, yes," James replied, but with his eyes firmly on Mrs Parson's increasingly reddening face. "Got accepted into Edinburgh. Two 'A's and a 'B'. Exactly what I needed."

"Well done, splendid news."

"Can I borrow Mrs Parsons for a minute please?"

"Of course you can. Well done again."

James and Mrs Parsons watched him walk away, each waiting for the other to talk. James' heart was beating so fast it was bordering on medically unsound. His throat was dry as he turned to his teacher. She smelled of fruity perfume and her lips were cherry red, the casual nature of the day allowing her to wear a more sensual shade of lipstick than she would at work. Or was she wearing it for James?

"James congratulations. But as you probably guessed, it's not going to happen."

Apparently not. James felt so crushed he almost felt like crying. And the disappointment must have been plain to see, as Mrs Parsons let out a pitying groan of sympathy and looked at him like he was a lost puppy.

"Oh James, you must have known none of that could ever happen? Didn't you?"

"Yeah I guess," he finally sighed after a deep breath. "I thought maybe there was a tiny chance. I wouldn't have worked so hard otherwise."

Mrs Parsons checked around her to make sure no one else was in earshot. "I'm so flattered that I could make you work so hard, and you've really outdone yourself. That 'C' grade is amazing for someone who doesn't have an aptitude for languages. You should be really proud of yourself. That's worth a lot more than anything on that list. And trust me, you'll have plenty of opportunity to tick off those items at university."

James shook his head. "Well, it wasn't the acts so much as the person."

And with that, he surprised himself by embracing his teacher, taking in her aroma one more time, and then walking away, utterly depressed.

"Goodbye Mrs Parsons. Thanks for everything."

As James reached the main entrance, his head full of regrets and what-could-have-beens, he was greeted by a sight that was the perfectly rancid topping to his overwhelming disappointment: Giles Mason came revving into the school car park with his brand new Jag. It even had a personalised number plate. As students and sycophants gathered around the shiny new car, and Giles basked in the glory of his reward, James felt physically ill. It was at that precise moment that he felt a soft hand on his shoulder and a husky whisper in his ear.

"Meet me at the Sports Hall in 15 minutes."

By the time he turned around, she was already walking off. As he watched Mrs Parsons' pert bottom wiggle off into the distance, James felt an erection take shape in his pants. He re-adjusted himself, and headed back into the school building to find a chair to collapse in. He was shaking. What did she want to meet him for? Surely it must be to do with the list? The sports hall was a separate building on the grounds, far away from the where the rest of the teachers and students were currently buzzing. Was she going to fulfil any of it? Was he going to see her topless? Touch her? Kiss her?

He had to stop himself thinking about it. The more he did, the harder he got, and he needed to be in a non-aroused state to complete the journey in 5 minutes. He re-adjusted his trousers again, waited for himself to soften just enough for it not to be noticeable, and headed to the sports hall.

When he got there, Mrs Parsons was inside by the front door looking out. As James got nearer he saw her check the immediate surroundings. James did the same and was confident that no one was around to see him enter. As he opened the door, he could see that his hand was trembling. Mrs Parsons locked the door behind him.

"I've got a key so that I can use the changing rooms when I do my running. Follow me."

She was speaking very calmly in a matter-of-fact manner. James obediently followed her up the stairs and to the first floor where the gym and changing rooms were. He had walked past the women's changing room many times, and thought it strange for a boy's school to have such a thing. It hadn't occurred to him that female members of staff could use it. Mrs Parsons led him inside and after closing the door behind them, locked it. A lock was something the male changing rooms lacked, but he could see the logic of having one here.

The changing room was a tiny version of the men's: surrounded by hooks and benches with a small walk-in shower section. There was also a pile of stackable plastic chairs. Mrs Parsons took the top chair and placed it in the centre of the room.

"Sit down James."

James obeyed, his mouth almost completely dry. There now was no doubt -- she was going to reward him with something. But how far was she going to go? Then, to James' delight, she pulled out a familiar piece of paper from her back jeans pocket. She unfolded it and stared at its contents.

"So, young man," she purred in a deliberately sensual way. "These seem to be on a sliding scale of naughtiness. Was the idea that we start at the lowest grade and work our way up to the grade you achieved?"

She looked at him with mock ignorance. James nodded. Mrs Parsons let out a teasing cackle.

"Oh your face is an absolute picture. You look terrified James. This is meant to be something you wanted, remember?"

"It is. It really, really is."

"Well try to look a little happier then. Right, first off it says that you should be allowed to play with my breasts through my clothes."

Mrs Parsons walked slowly towards James' seat and fixed him with the naughtiest stare, almost as if she was daring him. She leaned over, presenting the two ample mounds under her shirt to him.

"Go on then."

James didn't need any further encouragement. He reached up and immediately put both hands where he had fantasised for years and years. He was surprised by their firmness. He had never touched a breast before, and had imagined that they would be softer and lighter, but the structures he had in his grasp right now were far heavier than he had anticipated, like water balloons filled to capacity. He squeezed hard and was fascinated with how they yielded, and how pliant they were, even through the layers of material. James' erection was now unbearably hard, and its position in his pants was making the experience a little uncomfortable, but he didn't care. He was squeezing Mrs Parson's boobs! He pushed them up towards her chin, which caught her off guard and made her giggle after a squeak of surprise. He then pushed them both together, forming a large cleavage line that he could see through the gape of her shirt. It also revealed the black lace of her bra -- a particularly sensual one, James felt, from the small glimpses he was getting.

"Would you like to see them?"

James was dumbstruck into silence, barely managing a nod. Mrs Parsons took a few steps back, leaving James' outstretched hands cupping the air. With a pang of embarrassment he put his hands down on his lap and took the opportunity to readjust himself again, allowing his erection to lie comfortably in his pants. He could feel the pre-cum oozing out onto his thigh, and became a little self conscious as he realised that a patch of dampness would probably show through his beige trousers. Within seconds, though, his mind was occupied elsewhere.

Mrs Parsons was slowly unbuttoning her shirt, looking down at her wares and occasionally looking up to amuse herself at James' no-doubt dumbstruck expression. As each button was freed, more and more of her amazing cleavage was revealed. The bra was framing her breasts in the best possible way, and James couldn't believe how large and round and smooth the circles of flesh were. As she administered to the final button, James could see how amazing her body was. She was so slim and toned with not an ounce of excess fat on her. Her stomach was flat and her belly button a perfect round hole. It was a svelte form that only served to further accentuate the largeness of her breasts. Breasts that James was about to see. He held his breath as Mrs Parson reached around her back to unclasp the luxurious lacy bra she was wearing. As the support of the bra vanished, James could see her tits fall ever so slightly with gravity, but they were still firm enough to keep their round shape. The back strap of the bra hung at her sides, and James could see the fleshy curves of the bottom of her breasts showing through as they freed themselves from the cups.

Mrs Parsons put her thumbs underneath the shoulder straps, but before she removed the garment completely, she gave James a coy look.

"Are you sure you want to see them?"

"Yes."

"Ask me then."

"What?"

"Ask me if you can see them."

"Mrs Parsons, can you please show me your tits."

"Sure."

And with that she yanked at the shoulder straps and the bra fell to the changing room floor. Finally exposed, her large, pendulous, yet still round breasts bobbed into their freed position. They were the same porcelain colour as the rest of her body except for the pink of her perfect, small nipples. James felt more pre-cum seep out of his penis. He knew that the slightest rub would cause him to cum almost immediately. Mrs Parsons wasn't helping with his restraint as she traced a finger up from the belt buckle of her jeans, between her hanging breasts, and then across to her left nipple, which James could see was reacting to her touch, hardening in front of his very eyes. Her areola were medium sized and surrounded by several prominent goose bumps. Her nipples were protruding proudly, with a rough texture of pink skin that James wanted to desperately touch.

"Do you like them?" she whispered. James nodded manically in agreement. "Do you want to touch them again?"

This time she didn't even wait for an affirmative signal from James. She simply took a few steps forward and lent over him, her breasts swinging invitingly just inches from his face. He reached up and took them in his grasp. They were so warm, so heavy, so beautiful. He instinctively placed his thumbs on each nipple and rubbed them in small circles, feeling their hardness. This was the first time that he heard a noise come from Mrs Parsons, a seemingly satisfied sigh as James continued to massage her erect nipples. All the while he was experimenting with the weight of the breasts he now had unencumbered in his hands, pushing them up slightly and noting how they changed shape as he did so. He spread his fingers exploring around the sides, stroking every inch, hungry to traverse every single part of them with his touch. He stopped making circles with his thumbs and pushed them into the firm but yielding structures, eliciting a hushed yelp from his teacher.

"Sorry," he offered.

"It's okay, you can be pretty rough with them. It feels nice when you squeeze them."

James complied and moved his thumbs to the underside of her cleavage, giving each breast a sharp squeeze. Mrs Parsons moaned in response.

"What does a 'C' get you?" she whispered.

"I get to use my mouth."

"Go on then."

For this, James was a little more tentative. Squeezing her tits had presented two engorged targets for him to experiment with. He started by craning his neck forward and greeting a now bullet hard nipple in front of him with the tip of his tongue. He flicked at it a few times before pursing his lips and taking it into his mouth with a kiss. Again, another approving moan from Mrs Parsons. Buoyed by the response, James turned his attention to the breast in his other hand, this time taking a much larger amount into his mouth and sucking gently, rubbing the base of his tongue against the nipple as he did so. He removed it from his mouth with a loud slurp and stared at the glistening tit he had molested, wet with his own saliva.

Mrs Parsons pulled away, straightening her back. 'That was it', James thought. It was more than he could have ever dreamed of, but that was as much as he was getting. He marvelled at her amazing tits for what he thought would be the final time, wishing he had applied himself in his studies even further. Wishing he had got an 'A'.

"Sorry James, my back's killing me" she simpered, before planting herself on his lap, straddling the amazed youth, her face looking down with a smile, her jeans-laden crotch now squashing James' already sensitive erection, and her hanging breasts just a hairs breadth from his face.

"That's better."

James reached around and placed his hands on her warm back just below her shoulder blades, pulling her chest towards him. He nuzzled her cleavage, moving his face from side to side as her nipples flicked across his chin and lips. He then started lapping at her tits with his tongue, taking several long licks up from the curved base of her fleshy pillows, across the nipples, and up towards her neck. With each stroke of the tongue Mrs Parsons flexed her buttocks slightly, a tension that transferred directly to his throbbing cock. He flexed the base of his penis, hoping that she would feel it through her jeans. He wanted her to know how hard she was making him.

She leant over to speak softly in his ear.

"Are you feeling a bit constricted down there?"

"Slightly."

"Let's free you up a bit, then."

She dismounted him and playfully walked around behind the chair, circling him. As she did she brushed her tits against the back of his head. He could feel the still hard nipples boring through his hair to touch his scalp.

"I used to do that in class sometimes, didn't I?"

"Yeah."

"Shall I tell you a secret?"

"Sure."

She leant in again to whisper in his ear. "It was always on purpose."

And with that she went down on her knees, pushing James' legs apart so that she could position herself right in front of his crotch. She pulled down the zipper on his trousers, revealing the pre-cum soaked material of his underwear.

"What a mess James. You are enjoying this, aren't you?"

James nodded and then had to steel himself as Mrs Parsons ran a delicate finger over the moist material that covered his sensitive erection. Even more pre-cum released, and James was afraid he wouldn't be able to stop himself cumming for much longer. To speed up whatever was about to happen, he feverishly grasped at his belt, and pulled it open together with the top button. Mrs Parsons did the rest, pulling the trousers apart to reveal a moist tent of fabric. Again, more pre-cum, this time it could be seen making a dark glistening spot on his briefs, revealing the location of the tip of his penis underneath.

Mrs Parsons examined the sight in front of her for a few seconds, then placed a delicate finger where the pre-cum was oozing. James shuddered at the touch. As she lifted the finger away, a thread of clear sticky liquid came with it. Mrs Parsons cheekily looked up at James and without looking away put the finger in her mouth and sucked it like a lollipop. She then pulled the top of his briefs down and over the top of his penis, his rock hard erection springing into position, slapping against his stomach as it pointed skyward. Then Mrs Parsons started teasing. She retrieved the list from the floor and looked at it with mock consternation.

"Wait a minute, this was only meant to be if you got an 'A'." She looked at him with a half smile. "You didn't get an 'A' did you?"

James shook his head. Was she really going to be this cruel?

"Well I don't think we should go any further then, should we?" She folded her arms, covering her breasts with faux modesty.

"I'd really like it if we did," James offered in a creaking voice. Mrs Parsons again fired a cheeky smile at him.

"Well, you'll have to ask nicely."

"Can we carry on please?"

"Use my name."

"Can we carry on please, Mrs Parsons?"

"What do you want me to do?"

James swallowed hard. She seemed to like him talking dirty to her. "Can you wrap your tits around my cock and wank me off with them?"

"James!" she gasped with mock indignation. "Are you asking me to tit fuck you?"