Naughty Teacher Fantasy
"Hot for Teacher," a Dirty Martini sex story by Kris Williams
God he's, so gorgeous, I thought dreamily, not paying the slightest attention to what Mr. Adamson was writing on the board. It was Monday morning, first period, and as usual Kate and I had chemistry. Sciences were a mystery to me, especially chemistry, but I looked forward to it because of Mr. Adamson, who was young and impossibly good-looking. He had dark hair that brushed his collar, vivid green eyes, and just a suggestion of a moustache. He was about three inches taller than me and slim, but his body was always hidden beneath his white lab coat.
I had a crush on Mr. Adamson since day one, and it had grown steadily worse as the school year went on. I had begun to have dreams about him, and not prim and proper, chaste-kisses-in the-park-dreams, either. No, these were the erotic, steamy dreams of breathless lovemaking, with his hands all over me and me begging him to do more and more. I always woke from these dreams aching and uncomfortable, knowing what I wanted but frightened by it as well. I was still a virgin, and these impulses were confusing and frustrating.
I suddenly realized that the room had gone quiet, and Kate gave me a surreptitious jab with her elbow.
"Answer the question!" she hissed, and my face turned red when I realized I hadn't even heard the question. I looked at Mr. Adamson and I could have sworn there was amusement in his eyes.
"Uh - I wasn't paying attention, sir. Sorry." He shook his head as if in frustration and turned to the boy who sat on the other side of me.
"Trent? Did you hear the question?"
Trent rattled off the answer glibly, and I shrank down in my seat, embarrassed beyond belief. I glanced at the clock; only ten minutes to go until the end of the period, and for once, I was glad.
"Okay, guys, I'm going to hand out the quizzes from last week." Mr. Adamson grabbed a sheaf of papers from his desk and then walked around the room distributing them. As he strolled among us he commented, "It's a better bunch than last time, but some of you -"
He laid a paper face down on my desk and looked at me meaningfully. "Some of you could use a bit of extra help."
He touched me on the shoulder briefly and an electric shock went through me. Kate looked at me with a sly smile as Mr. Adamson moved away to finish handing out the rest of the papers. I frowned at her, wishing my face would cool down, immensely relieved when the bell rang.
"So?" Kate asked. "What's the bad news?"
I turned the test over and grimaced. Six out of thirty.
"Geez, Sarah," Kate said pityingly. "You really don't get this stuff, do you?"
I felt sudden tears come to my eyes and stuffed the paper haphazardly into my binder. "I guess not," I muttered, feeling like the world's biggest dunce.
"Sarah, can I talk to you for a moment?" I looked up and into those amazing green eyes; Mr. Adamson stood beside us, looking at me with the same faint pity.
"Sure," I said nervously, and Kate said breezily, "See you later, Madam Curie." I made a face at her.
She left the room and I was alone with Grant Adamson. I clutched my books to my chest, miserably certain he was going to point out my obvious shortcomings.
"This is the worst mark yet, Sarah," he said seriously, and I felt another embarrassed flush color my cheeks as I nodded.
"I know," I said, looking down at the floor through a prism of tears. "I feel like such an idiot, Mr. Adamson. I just don't get it. I don't think I ever will."
Mr. Adamson placed gentle fingers under my chin and raised my head until my eyes met his.
"Maybe you need some extra tutoring," he said softly. The air between us seemed to crackle with sexual tension. I stared at him, breathless, and a smile curved his lips.
"Uh - tutoring?" I stammered, thinking: Oh, that was really smooth, Sarah, nice going!
"Private tutoring," Mr. Adamson said meaningfully, and my heart gave a lurch that was almost painful. I didn't say anything, and he leaned in closer to me. "Do you understand, Sarah?"
"I'm not sure," I told him, not wanting to make a fool of myself by misinterpreting what he was saying. "Do you want to tutor me?"
He traced the edge of my jaw with one finger and smiled again.
"Among other things," he murmured. My knees went weak.
"Mr. Adamson - " I began, and he placed one finger gently across my lips.
"Grant," he said softly. All I could do was stare at him.
"Grant?" I repeated, and he shook his head, still smiling.
"You have no idea what a distraction you are, do you?"
I looked at him, wide-eyed, my face burning. Finally I said, "I guess not. I'm too busy watching you to think about it." I clapped a hand over my mouth in horror, unable to believe I had said that out loud, but Grant laughed, delighted.
"We'll talk about tutoring later," he said, stepping away from me as students began to file into the classroom. "Do me a favor?" he whispered, and I looked at him inquiringly. "Wear a skirt next class. A really short skirt."
That rush went through me again, and I smiled hesitantly and nodded, gathering my wits and leaving the room quickly. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked through the door, and once out in the hallway I leaned against the wall, my heart pounding so hard I felt faint.
I was so nervous on Wednesday morning that I seriously considered not going to class. But the promise that had been in Grant Adamson's eyes was too much to resist. Kate looked at me in surprise when we met at our lockers that morning; she wasn't exactly used to seeing me in denim miniskirts that barely covered my rear end; I was more of a jeans and tee shirt kind of girl.
"Wow," she said, and whistled. "What's the occasion? Trying to catch Mr. Adamson's eye?" She was so right that I blushed furiously. I longed to tell her about my conversation with Mr. Adamson (Grant, his name is Grant) but I knew it dangerous for him, so I didn't mention it.
"Come on, Sarah, get over it." Kate slammed her locker and looked at me with her it's-time-to-be-sensible expression. "He doesn't know you're alive. He's a teacher, and you're a student."
"For your information, Miss Know-it-all," I retorted, impressed with myself for sounding so perfectly together, "Mr. Adamson isn't the only cute guy in our chemistry class."
That ought to keep her busy! I thought to myself, and laughed inwardly as Kate's blue eyes grew round with interest.
"You've been holding out on me!" she exclaimed as we walked down the hall. "Who is it? Come on, give it up!"
"You never know," I said airily, and she badgered me all the way into the room.
The second I walked in I felt Grant's eyes on me, and I pretended that it was any other day and crossed the room to my desk. I felt a pinch on my backside and turned around to see Trent grinning at me.
"Nice butt, Travis," he said.
I pressed his chest with my hand, backing him away. "That's the most of it you'll ever get," I said, and Kate laughed.
"Could we settle down, please?"
At the sound of Mr. Adamson's voice, we all sat down. Turning my attention to the front of the room, my breath caught in my throat; he was even better looking to me now. His eyes passed over me, and for a panicked moment I thought I had imagined the other day. The class passed uneventfully, and for the rest of the day I seesawed between excitement and humiliation.
You were reading more into it than there was, I told myself as I got ready to go home. He's probably laughing his ass off at you, idiot!
I was shoving books into my locker and the intercom came on and echoed through the halls: "Sarah Travis, please report to the office. Sarah Travis, to the office, please."
Kate looked at me. "You're busted, Travis," she teased.
I softly pushed her. "Ha, ha. Go home before I hurt you."
Kate slammed her locker shut and slung her purse over one shoulder. "See you tomorrow, sexy."
I rolled my eyes at her, and she let out a trill of laughter as she walked away, toward the front doors of the school. I slammed my own locker shut and walked in the opposite direction - towards the front office.
I leaned on the counter of the partition that marked the entrance to the office. "Hi, I'm Sarah Travis. I was just paged?"
The stout, middle-aged woman behind the counter smiled at me. "I'll get Mr. Adamson," she said. "He wants to talk to you."
Excitement and anxiety battled inside of me at the same time, and I felt lightheaded. I smiled back at the woman weakly. "Okay," I said, and walked to the row of chairs that stood along one wall. I waited for a few minutes, getting more nervous with every second that passed, and when Grant walked out of the back of the office and came around the counter I got up on shaky legs and approached him hesitantly.
"You wanted to see me, Mr. Adamson?" I asked politely. He came over and stood directly in front of me. The stout woman had disappeared into the back and we were alone; the school had begun to take on that empty, after-dismissal feel.
"You look incredible," Grant said softly. "You can't believe how much I want to grab that gorgeous ass of yours."
I stared at him breathless. I was a little bit shocked by the way he was talking to me. He chuckled.
"Stop looking at me like an innocent virgin or I swear I'll wrestle you to the floor right here."
I could see the desire in his eyes, and it made me feel suddenly powerful. A sensuous smile curve my lips and I whispered, "If I look like an innocent virgin, Mr. Adamson, it's because I am an innocent virgin."
Grant stared at me and his breath caught in a little gasp.
"Jesus, I want you," he said, his eyelids falling slightly. My body became alive with lust.
Before I could say anything he grabbed my hand and pressed it against the front of his pants. "Feel that," he whispered, and my fingers touched something hard and long. I jerked my hand away, my face burning, and looked down at the floor, suddenly frightened.
"How about that tutoring, Sarah? Still want my help?" Grant winked at me, and although the words were said in a normal tone of voice, I caught his meaning immediately. I felt as if I were on the edge of a precipice - I could step back and continue with life as I knew it, or - I looked up at him and took the proverbial leap.
"Okay," I whispered, and he smiled at me gently.
As we left the office I felt like I was in the middle of one of my dreams; there was an ache between my legs that made it difficult to walk. Walking down the empty hallway, I asked quietly, "Where are we going, Mr. Adamson?"
He looked at me and winced.
"Please, Sarah, could you call me Grant? 'Mr. Adamson' makes me feel like a child molester."
I was amazed that he could talk about it so openly, and I decided to do a little teasing of my own. I moved closer to him and murmured, "I am a child, Mr. Adamson. I'm just a schoolgirl you're going to take advantage of."
I heard him suck in his breath, and when he replied his voice was a little unsteady.
"You're a bad girl, Sarah. I might have to turn you over my knee before I fuck you."
I stared at him, unable to believe what he had just said. We reached the door to his classroom, and he pushed me inside and closed it behind us. I heard the sound of the doorknob locking and whirled around to find him grinning at me.
"Come here, schoolgirl," he said in a heavy voice, and I walked over to him automatically, right into his open arms. Grant pulled me against him roughly and before I could react his mouth slammed down on mine and his hands grabbed my backside. He pushed his hips against mine as he kissed me, his tongue exploring my mouth, and my arms slid around his neck as I kissed him back with abandon. I could feel his erection pressing against me and a thrill of fear shot through me. What was I doing?
At last Grant pulled away from me and looked into my eyes. His hands yanked my short skirt up around my waist and slid underneath my panties, touching my skin.
"Christ, Sarah," he groaned as he buried his face in my neck. "I've been wanting to do this since the first time I saw you."
I ran my hands up and down his back and pressed myself against him. "Really?" I asked breathlessly. "I didn't think you even noticed me."
Grant ran his hands over my ass and up my back, underneath my tee shirt. His fingers fumbled with the hooks on my bra, and when he had them undone he reached around and cupped my breasts.
"God, are you kidding?" His voice was hoarse as his fingers teased my nipples into stiff peaks. "Why do you think I wear that fucking white coat? I have a constant hard-on in every class you're in."
Another bolt of lust shot through me. He was lightly pinching my nipples and it was driving me crazy. I kissed him urgently and began to pull his shirt out of the dark trousers he wore. Grant raised my tee shirt, and I allowed him to pull it over my head. He drew the bra gently off, running his hands over my bare breasts.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, and he kissed them. An odd feeling of tenderness ran through me; he looked so young and vulnerable with his head bent. When he pushed me away slightly and began to tug on the skirt I was wearing I realized that this was really happening, and for a moment I was scared, really scared.
"Grant?" He looked up at me, his face flushed and his eyes sleepy with desire, and I smiled nervously. "I really am a virgin," I told him softly, and he straightened up and put his hands on my bare shoulders.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asked seriously, and I could almost hear the codicil: Please say no, oh God, please say no ...
I shook my head and took his face in my hands.
"No, but go slow, okay? I'm a little scared."
Grant's face suffused with tenderness and he nodded and kissed me gently. "No problem." His fingers skillfully undid the belt around my hips, and he popped the snap on my skirt and slid the zipper down slowly. Then he pushed the brief garment down, hooking his thumbs in the sides of my panties at the same time. When he finished pulling everything down he was on his knees in front of me, and I gripped his shoulders as he kissed me between the legs, his tongue probing and exploring secret recesses where no one (except for myself) had ever been before. Grant's hands reached around and cupped my buttocks, and he pressed my hips against his mouth, his tongue working in a way that turned my knees to jelly.
"Stop - " I gasped at last. "I can't stand - "
Grant pulled back from me for a moment and whispered, "Then don't."
He urged me onto the floor, and when I was flat on my back he got between my legs, bracing himself on his elbows. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked again, and I shook my head, not sure what it was I did want. Before I had time to think about it his mouth found me again, and as his tongue caressed me the sensations spiraled up and up, culminating in an exquisite series of contractions that drained every bit of strength from my body.
Grant got to his knees, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand, and when he began to undo his belt that fear stabbed me again. When he had unzipped his pants and began to push them down I looked away; I had never seen a man's penis before and the thought was still vaguely alarming.
Grant lowered himself on top of me and I could feel him between my legs, hard and ready. Before I could pretend to be a woman of the world, I whispered, "I'm scared."
Grant looked into my eyes and smiled, stroking the side of my face with one hand.
"Do you want me to stop, Sarah?" he said. "I will, you know. It'll just about kill me, but I won't do anything you don't want me to."
I shook my head and slipped my arms around his neck, feeling so vulnerable without clothes, unable to believe that I was lying naked on my back in the classroom where I tried to learn chemistry twice a week.
"No, I want it to be you," I whispered, and I heard him mutter, "Thank God," under his breath.
"You ready, sweetheart?" Grant asked me softly, and I nodded again and buried my face in his shoulder. I felt him probing between my legs, seeking entry, and as the tip of him entered me I clung to him tightly and took a deep breath.
"Move your legs apart," he gasped, and I did as he asked, lifting my hips at the same time. He braced his hands on either side of my head and pushed his own hips forward, and I struggled not to cry out as more and more of him slid into me slowly. Finally he reached the barrier, and when he continued to push it began to hurt. His breath coming in excited pants, Grant managed to say, "Oh, God - Sarah - sorry, baby, this might hurt - "
He pushed again, harder, and I let out a cry and said frantically, "Stop! Stop, Grant, oh it hurts, stop - "
Grant continued to thrust, saying in an agonized voice, "Oh Christ no, Sarah, I can't stop now, Jesus - "
He pushed harder, breaking through my resistance, and a sudden sharp pain inside made me cry out again. Grant's hips moved rhythmically, and the pain increased.
"Oh stop, Grant, you're hurting me - " I looked at his face, and it was twisted into an expression close to agony.
"I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry - oh God, Sarah, Christ, I'm going to - "
The rest of his words were lost in a guttural cry as he arched his back and pressed his hips into mine harder than ever. Finally the movement slowed, then stopped, and he collapsed on top of me, his breathing harsh in my ear and his shirt damp with perspiration. I held him, not really sure what I was feeling. Grant raised his head and looked at me.
"That was amazing," he breathed, and I smiled at him almost shyly. I could feel him inside me, still hard, and the sensation made me feel like the woman I longed to be.
"How old are you, Grant?" I asked him without thinking, and he laughed and brushed a lock of hair away from my forehead.
"Twenty eight, sweetheart, why?"
I reached up and pulled his head down to mine, kissing him. "I just wanted to know."
Grant kissed my temple and buried his face in my neck.
"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he told me, his voice muffled, and I smiled up at the ceiling, my eyes tracing the white lines of the painted pipes over our heads.
"I'm only sixteen," I whispered, and for some reason the words sent a shudder of fear through me. "Does that matter to you?" Grant shook his head, his lips brushing mine.
"No," he told me. "It might matter to your father, but it doesn't matter to me." I held him close for an endless moment.
"Good," I said. "Now please get off me before my back breaks in two." He obliged, pulling out of me and getting to his knees to pull up his pants. I began to get up as well and he put a hand on my shoulder and stopped me.
"Just let me look at you for a minute," he said softly, running a hand down the curve of my waist to my hip. I looked up at him and stretched my arms over my head, and when his eyes met mine he was smiling possessively.
"For a girl who doesn't get it, you're going to pass my class with an A+, Miss Travis," he told me, and I laughed out loud.
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Copyright January 2007, Kris Williams.
Published with permission from author on OystersandChocolate.com. Copying or reprinting this work in part or in whole without permission is illegal.