by Sheila Foy
(08/14/02)
It was very early to be in the classroom -- 7 a.m. on a fine cool autumn morning. The teacher had come in to get a head start on grading the mountain of papers on her desk. It had been really too late to go home after that disastrous date anyway. She had anticipated a very romantic night, but it had turned into the worst of her life. Her fiancé of two years was now her ex.
She was attracted to the view out of the fourth floor window. The campus was beautiful at this hour. There was a low-lying mist that swirled among the fallen leaves with the cool breeze. There were only a few students crossing the great expanse of lush green lawn of the university campus. Probably going to the library, she thought. The radiator she was leaning against felt good against her thighs, warm and smooth, comforting. She reflected that she must find time to put away her summer things, the cooler weather required heavier clothing, not to mention she was dressed inappropriately for class this morning.
She heard the door open, and before she could avoid it, the rush of the breeze lifted the back of her light cotton skirt to expose her long legs -- and the fact that all she had on below the waist were the strapped high heel sandals on her feet. She didn't turn around; it was as if she had turned to stone. The silence was profound. Maybe whoever it is didn’t notice, she thought. She heard the door close softly and the shade being pulled down over the window in the door. She knew that this was the last moment to turn around, but somehow she didn't want to...there was fantasy, mystery, and daring in the air. She closed her eyes instead and leaned a bit further out of the window, welcoming the cool breeze on her flushed cheeks.
The heavy footsteps of a man in boots echoed in the classroom, and she could feel her skin break out in goosebumps and her nipples tighten, turning into marbles on her chest. She was aroused and a bit frightened, more by what she had not done than by what would happen. Something momentous was going to happen, she was sure. She felt her skirt being gathered and lifted above her waist, and now she could feel the cool breeze on her ass. The man hunkered down on his heels, and she could see out of the corner of her eye a jeans-clad leg.
Better not to know, she thought, and closed her eyes again. She felt a warm, dry, very large hand pass lightly over her cool cheeks and then a warm, wet tongue followed the hand.
She felt a shock in her very center and her vulva began to swell and a sweet moistness oozed between her legs. Her knees went all weak and wobbly, so she leaned over a bit more on the warm radiator, spreading her legs a bit wider. A hand slipped between her legs and touched the wetness there. A rough, work-hardened hand, touching gently but insistently, seeking her warm private place.
He thrust two fingers up into her and moved them in a circular pattern, his thumb looking for and finding her anus. She shivered in longing and mild panic. A little late to protest now, isn’t it -- especially since it feels so exquisite -- scary and welcome at the same time, she thought. He withdrew his hand; she could hear him smell and then taste his wet fingers. He folded her skirt neatly from the hem up and tucked it into her waistband, she heard the sound of a zipper being slowly undone. The anticipation was excruciating and wonderfully exciting. Then she felt him, hot and hard against her ass, straining against her. He put his hands on her hips and raised her off the floor. She found herself leaning further out of the window, supported by her hands on the window ledge and her thighs on the radiator. His hands on her hips were comforting. I am in good hands she thought with an inner giggle.
She moved her legs further apart, giving him a better path, and he slid into her vagina as if he already knew the way. His penis filled her emptiness. She had anticipated this since yesterday...but with a different man.
Slowly and gently he moved in her, pushing her down against his penis with his hands on her hips. Again and again, slowly and deeper with each thrust, until she motioned him to thrust harder and faster. They were both breathing hard and fast, and she could feel his hands tremble on her skin. She felt that gathering sensation build and build; a thin sheen of sweat covered both their bodies. Her nipples were on fire and she wanted him to touch and taste them...
In that moment they heard the door to the first floor landing open, and the voices of the incoming students. It would take them no more than two or three minutes to get to the room. Suddenly he withdrew and inserted his index finger in her hot, wet pussy. Dragging her juices up her crack he moistened her anus and quickly pushed his straining penis all the way into her. She gasped with the pain, but in a few thrusts the pain turned to exquisite pleasure, and they were on the crest. He bent his head and gently bit her neck, licking at the salty sweat. Suddenly they both came with muffled moans and clenching muscles.
He quickly withdrew, and, turning, walked to the door while he zipped up his fly. The teacher heard the door open and shut while she was trying to get her breath back, leaning on the radiator. She realized that her skirt was still tucked up into her waistband, and she turned quickly, fumbling with it. She took two steps and fell into her chair behind the desk, while at the same moment the door opened and a group of her students entered the classroom. She could feel the wetness between her legs and smell the hot sexy cloud she was enveloped in. She checked to make sure she was not sitting on her skirt, letting the gingham cushion on the chair absorb the wetness seeping out of her.
The room was slowly filling with dozens of university students, milling around, looking for seats, joking and calling out to each other. When she felt a bit more in control she slowly raised her head and passed her eyes around the room. There must have been twenty young, jeans-clad men in the room -- all looking at her with interest.
