What She Wants

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18-year-old wants her substitute teacher.
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gwoman
gwoman
12 Followers

She wants him. Yes he's older with silver in his hair and is a little short, but she hasn't talked to a boy--let alone a man--in so long. At 18 years old, her body and mind are very much focused on one particular thing.

She tries to hold back at first, just be the helpful girl when he substitutes in her classes; the rest of the girls are practically mean to him, like they scent weakness, so she wants to make up for that with kindness. If her mind goes rather quickly into the gutter, well, at least she tried, right?

When he stands at the lectern, she wonders what his cock looks like, if it's pressing against the zipper of his pants, if that's what that bump is.

When he writes on the board and his ass wiggles ever so slightly, she daydreams about him pinning her to that board with his body, grinding up into her cunt with enough force to push her up and slide down before he once again drives in.

She starts to crave his presence, and when he is in class, she attempts to seduce him. Slowly at first, of course, so he doesn't catch on until it's too late and she has him.

It begins with the little things, like unbuttoning her uniform blouse just a little lower than dress code allows. The first time he notices, he's standing in front of her and her geometry group's low table, answering a question, looking at them from above. His gaze shifts to her, and he is abruptly silent, eyes locked onto her exposed cleavage, meager as it is, and his cheeks and nose turn pink.

She can't let him know how smug this makes her, so she looks down as if wondering if there's something on her shirt, gives a fake gasp, and clutches the sides of her shirt together as if she's horribly embarrassed by a wardrobe malfunction. The sound brings him back to the room, and he immediately turns and walks away to another table of students.

Bolstered by her success, she decides to kick things up a notch. When her Religion IV teacher--of course it would be religion class--lets the class know that there will be a substitute the next day, she is determined to catch his eye again. The following day she has her blouse unbuttoned again, her plaid skirt rolled up just a tad too high, and she's wearing knee socks into smooth, lowly heeled, barely regulation women's loafers. With a simple black choker on her neck, a smoky perfume on her wrists, and a soft, shimmery gloss on her lips, she sits down at her desk in the very back row and waits.

He makes his way to the lectern, and she crosses her legs into the aisle to give him a glimpse of their length and smoothness. Once he's started reading the scripture passage for the lesson, she takes her pencil and slowly runs it down her neck to her collarbone, subtly squirming like she enjoys the feel, though her face is serious. She looks at her desk as if she's intently listening while he goes through the longest list of names in the genealogy of Christ, but she's brought the pencil back up, now running across the seam of her lips in purposeful absentmindedness.

All of a sudden he is saying her name in place of one in the list, and she looks up in honest surprise that it worked so quickly. He resumes reading out loud while the whole class turns back to look at her. With wide eyes, she shrugs and shakes her head as if she has no idea what's going on.

The next time she sees him isn't until a week later during study hall. Apparently the school librarian is out for the foreseeable future with the flu, and he was the closest to a librarian the school could scrounge up on such short notice. Once her bag and notebook are at her usual table, she offers to help him put away the returned books. They go about this separately at first, but eventually they have books on adjoining shelves.

From her pile, she takes the book that needs to be placed on the very top shelf and stands on her tip toes, pretending to grimace with the stretch. Knowing exactly what she's doing, she gives a little hop to reach higher and leans too far over, into his personal space, and lets herself fall into him. He turns slightly to catch her, their fronts facing each other, and grabs her at the waist with both hands. Stumbling a bit to push her face into his neck and her breasts into his chest, she moves her hands to his upper arms and holds on as if to steady herself. They've never touched more than hands when passing papers, so now is the time to see if he's as drawn to her proximity as he is her appearance.

She slowly looks up at him with wide eyes and a parted, surprised mouth, refusing to be the first to let go, wanting to see how long it will take him to. As soon as her eyes meet his, his grip on her waist tightens. He stays this way, staring into her face, until laughter comes from somewhere among the student tables, and he immediately drops his hands and steps back. Of course he asks if she's alright, but the moment the yes is out of her mouth, he pivots and leaves the shelves. She doesn't see him again that period, but she knows she's won; she's wormed her way past his defenses, and she's ready to cash in her prize.

The next day is a Friday, and after her last class she walks to the library and sits at a table, going over flash cards and notes for another hour in order to lure him into a false sense of security: see, nothing's going to happen, there's no reason to be cautious. Once everyone else has left, she puts her study materials away, slips her bag over her shoulder, and walks up to the librarian's office, where he's doing something on the computer, which faces towards the opposite wall.

She stands in the doorway for a moment watching him, looking for signs of nervousness, but he seems as relaxed as a person can be while at work. Smirking to herself, she places her bag down on the floor inside the office and steps in, softly closing the door behind her and keeping her eyes lightly on him. He doesn't notice her until he hears the lock click and turns around towards the sound. It's obvious that he's surprised to see her, but surprise morphs into confusion with a hint of something darker when he trails his eyes down to her hand, which is still resting on the doorknob, and realizes she's locked them in together.

Letting go of the doorknob, she lowers her eyes and walks towards him, making sure her hips are swinging and her body stays loose. He still hasn't moved in his seat by the time she is standing right in front of him. Pausing for a moment to build the tension, she then drops to her knees. She hears his quiet gasp and smirks, grateful that her face is angled down in faux shyness so he can't catch her expression. She is careful to move slowly as she lifts her arms from her sides and places her hands on his knees; everything about this must appear slow and gentle until she has him naked, or he might spook.

She can feel his gaze boring into her, so she slides her hands up his thighs, widening the gap between them just a little to make room for herself later. He's panting now, and in her peripheral vision she can see his hands latching onto the chair arms. Oh this is too good, to know he wants her too much now to pull away, is being held down in his seat by the web she's laid over the past month. She keeps her hands moving, avoiding his erect cock--he whimpers--as she makes her way to the top of his pants. There's no belt to get in the way, so she gently rubs her finger in a circle over the button. He makes and almost imperceptible thrust towards her hand, and she internally laughs with glee.

She grabs his zipper and pulls it down, and his briefs-bound cock pushes out of the opening. She won't risk ruining the mood by asking him to lift up and slide everything down, so she reaches into his briefs and grabs him, pulling his erection free. The gurgling noise he makes at that means he is absolutely focused on what she's doing to him, so she lets herself lift her eyes and take in his flushed face and blown eyes, staring at her hand like it's God's salvation for his mortal soul. She licks her lips and descends on him.

The feel of his dick in her mouth, the weight of it, is almost as good as the punched-out moan he makes. She works her tongue up and down his shaft for a moment before taking him in all the way until he's bottomed out, then she pulls back and takes him in again, building up to a brutal pace. He's grunting with every thrust into her mouth that he can't hold back, and she sucks and swirls her tongue around the head, making sure he will never forget this moment with her.

His rapid breathing becomes erratic, so she reaches into his underwear with her free hand to fondle his balls. This with just the slightest touch of teeth to his shaft makes him yell out her name and come in her mouth.

She drinks him down, then removes her hands, letting his cock soften and shrink outside his pants as he's gasping to catch his breath. She stands, not a button or crease out of place on her uniform, looks him in the eye, and smirks. He's startled at the seeming change from her usual good-girl attitude, but she doesn't care. Walking away and letting herself out of the office, she hums with satisfaction. She got what she wanted.

Maybe if he's lucky, she'll play with him again soon.

gwoman
gwoman
12 Followers
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