She gently takes the papers from me.
“Of course,” she replies, smiling.
“How are you today?” I ask.
I don’t know why I’m in a mood to make conversation. I can tell that my question has caught her off guard.
“Well, I’ve had a good morning so far. How about yourself?” she asks, tucking the papers under an arm.
“Oh. Same here I guess,” I say with a shrug.
We share a polite laugh. After a few awkward seconds of silence, she goes back to her desk. I pull my laptop out of my bag and start writing my lesson plan for the following day.
A short while later, the students come filing in. I watch how quickly and quietly Stacey passes out the papers before returning to her desk. She is determined not to interrupt the class. I go over a brief review of the assignment from last night before moving on to the next lesson.
“I have decided that today will be spent preparing you for your final.” I wave Stacey forward, handing her some more packets, which she passes out to the class. “The packets that Ms. Stacey handed out to you are about as long as your final. Think of this as practice for your real test, except that on this one, you can use your book.”
A few of the students cheer happily. I quiet them down.
“It’s due at the end of class, and you will be graded. If you have any questions, feel free to ask Ms. Stacey for help.”
The students open their textbooks and start working. Stacey walks around the room, watching each of them attentively. I take a break from the lesson plan and browse the news headlines on my laptop. Nothing serious to worry about today.
I look up and see Stacey bent over a desk, helping a student. I don’t want to get caught looking, so I quickly glance back at my computer. The students work quickly and happily. By the time the bell rings, they have finished the assignment. They pass the papers forward. Without being asked, Stacey collects them and stacks them neatly on my desk.
“Don’t forget to study for your final,” I tell the students as they leave.
Stacey grabs her things. I frantically try to think of an excuse to keep her there, but there is none. She walks past me.
“Stacey, that was admirable, the initiative you took in collecting the papers today.”
She turns to smile at me. “Thank you, Mr. Winston. Enjoy the rest of your day.” She walks out of the classroom. I watch her leave, then sit back in my chair for a few minutes.
Eventually, I gather my papers and laptop so I can leave. The halls are quiet now. I lock the classroom behind me and walk outside. I get into my car and drive off. Being away from the school is no help; Stacey is still on my mind. I try to avoid thinking about her by getting a bite to eat on the way home, but it’s no use.
I finally make it home. Placing everything on the desk in my home office, I pull off my shirt and tie, changing into some comfortable shorts and a t-shirt. I try to relax on the couch by watching TV, but it’s no use.
I think of Stacey, her smiling face. I think of her cleavage again and I get hard. I put my hand in my shorts and begin to play with myself, stroking myself up and down as I think about her bending over that desk again. I want to take it a step further. She’s bent over, so I lift her skirt up and slide myself into her pussy from behind.
I imagine how good and tight she would feel, how I would make her ass cheeks bounce as I thrust inside of her. I actually hear myself moan out loud as I think about that, stroking harder.
Then, I turn her over; I want to see her breasts bounce, too. I’m nearly there, so I picture myself fucking her from the front this time. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I can hear her calling out my name. That does it for me. I cum all over my hand, so I go to the bathroom to get clean and shower.
Chapter 3
Stacey
Today is Friday. It’s an important day: finals. We have spent the past week preparing and helping the students study. I’m anxious as I arrive at school, but not because of the exams: I get to see Chris again.
I think about him all the time; I can’t help it. It would be easier if I didn’t find him so attractive, but I seriously doubt that I’ll be able to stop doing that.
I walk down the hall of the school. I always try to arrive a few minutes before Mr. Winston, so I can see him walk in. I wait outside the classroom, but he doesn’t show up. I think it’s a little bit odd, but I decide to wait a little bit longer. The kids start to arrive and wait outside with me.