A 15 year old school girl is overcum with lust for her hot teacher. So she tries to bring herself off in her class...and gets caught,
When I make eye contact with Ms Robinson I get a tingly-all-over feeling. There is something about looking into those deep blue eyes. I feel overwhelmed, I feel a rush of panic. I feel strange but beautiful butterflies take flight in the pit of my stomach. Okay Ms R is my English teacher so I have to work harder with my metaphors: looking into her eyes is a glorious ache, an ache that needs to be satisfied, imagine trekking an arduous mountain top trail, you can glimpse the peak, the flag of your love is whipping gainst your dry swollen lips, yet you find yourself overcome with despair because you don’t have a clue about how to make the final few steps of your journey to the peak of your urgent desires. That is exactly how feels looking into Ms Robinson’s eyes. I’m a poet, and Ms R is my muse. We are two hearts beating in unison to the source of all that is ardor; I feel our unison, even though she may not.

Each time I catch her gaze, I quickly turn my eyes away. No not out of shame as much as I am scared shitless that the incomparable Ms Robinson will see right through me to my pitter-pattering heart.

It feels like torture really, wanting to stare into those eyes, the color of a clear November sky, yet having to wrestle with my infatuation for her in silence.

Who could I talk to about this? My friends would think I was a sick perv and shun me for the rest of the school year. Now that I am in love, truly in love, my friends seem so childish, giggling over Justin and Selena, as if they were Anthony and Cleopatra, a love for the ages. If they knew of my passion for the young – voluptuous – intelligent – alluring Ms Robinson they would rat me out like some kind of peeping Thomasine.

By the way my name is actually Alex, but Ms R always calls me by my full name Alexandria. To hear her sing the syllables of my name is to hear the long lost poetry of Sappho. I imagine am one of her sisters being called to her chambers. Ah, yes Madame Sappho your wish is my cummand, ah, I mean command.

I couldn’t sleep again that night so I wrote Ms R a poem my beauty, my love. I came so frigging hard three times, once while doing what the poem describes, a second time while writing the poem, and a third time while reading the poem aloud into my computer and playing it over and over again. Then and only then was I able to fall to sleep.

I am an Insomniac for Your Love

Each night I lay awake
staring blankly at the ceiling.
This is proverbial insomnia of the love lost
brought on by the illicit, incendiary thoughts
of you, my beautiful English teacher
disturbing my sleep 100 nights in a row.

I find that the fingers of my hands
unconsciously caress my small breasts,
soon I am teasing, pulling, and twisting
at my nipples, so pleasurable to imagine
your delicate touch on my hard small nubs.
I surrender feelings of electric pleasure
as they flow from my firm little tities,
down to my tummy and lower, lower,
finding the nadir, of my bodies passion

My sensual tutor this is no flitting crush,
Or school girl infatuation! This was a deep
erotic desire—an unshakable and powerful lust.
This is strong sexual attraction my Sappho priestess–
My right hand now pinching the full slit
Of my shaven sex, tormenting the damp flesh
squashing in on the pink pearl of my want.

Your graceful yet urgent fingers are now
inside me, Pluming the well of my tense cunny.
You draw my sweet stream water to your lips
then plunge them deep for more, your tongue
circling my flesh pebble with such vigor, and craving
that soon I am weeping at the precipice
crying for you to push me over the edge.
Our eyes meet and suddenly the centre of my being
will no longer hold. I arch my quivering, shuddering young body.
I am tossed over into an ecstatic torrent of
sheer pleasure, my blood is on fire, my juices
overflow the banks of my cunt’s core,
primed and churned your flashing fingers,
your tongue’s faithful feverous, forceful thrashing.
My cum is raining from my pussy, and you amazed--
you open your eyes flash your unsated tongue
in a downpour of your own making.

I open my eyes and cry once more,
For fantasy is never more than a tortuous lie.
My teacher, my passion, please release me
from the sting of conflicted adoration. I ask you,
how do I ignore the potency of my feelings
regardless of my age, your age, or your position?
I need you more than life itself, you are
my very breath, my Sappho, my midnight priestess.

To say that I have never felt anything like this before would be the world’s biggest understatement. Ms Robinson had awoken something wonderful in me, and even though I knew it was all consuming I knew it was as far as I knew one-sided, and unrequited. Yet something deep inside me wanted to explore the possibilities as far as I could take them. I got to school early and slipped a copy of my unsigned poem into Ms R. desk. The very thought of her reading my words made my little pussy wet.

I was desperate to see Ms R again and this time I would not hide my feelings for her.
That day Ms Robinson wore a conservative, which was disappointing. She was wearing a sensible grey pinstripe pencil skirt and a white blouse.

Okay, she still made me feel tingly all over. I sit across from Emma, who really struggles with her English assignments. We were supposed to be writing a descriptive essay and Emma asked for help. I gulped as Ms R bent over Emma’s desk the fabric stretched over her amazing ass. It was all I could do to keep from whimpering in delight with the object of my desire only inches from my face.

My body responded to what my eyes took in as I traced the fine curve of Ms Robinson’s bent butt bottom down into her thigh. My mouth was suddenly dry as I took in the unbroken slenderness of Ms R’s sensual curves down her long, elegant legs. I hoped no one was able to notice my lustful stare as my eyes followed the hem of her skirt which ended just below the knee. I licked my lips taking in Ms Robinson’s ankles and calves naked, golden and athletic. She was wearing pair of delicate patent-black-strappy heels, her bare skin perfectly smooth and gently tanned, and of course my heart was tapping our a rap tune at the sight of her naked flesh.

I imagined kneeling behind Ms Robinson and licking at the sensual curve of her calf. Oh my, I thought, what would that warm skin would taste like? I caught myself shuddering with a secretive lust and then continued my schoolroom fantasy, I was soon working my imaginary tongue up Ms R’s leg, pausing at the crease behind her knee and tickling at the fold of her leg. I was so into my reverie I half expected Ms R to shiver from sensation of my warm wet tongue. Undeterred I moved up to kiss at the back of her thigh with my pout lips, I imagined slowly sliding my hands underneath the front of Ms Robinson’s skirt and pushing the garment steadily up to reveal the delights below…

I suddenly blinked with shock, catching myself mid-fantasy, I realized that my lips had moistened with my erotic thoughts and my breathing had become a slight pant. I desperately tried bring myself back to reality.

I could feel the familiar tingly damp feeling I my pussy and I tried to settle myself down. Yet this was what I wanted wasn’t to let my love, my lust show. I smiled myself, parting my legs wider under my desk, feeling heat of my flushed cheeks, enjoying the heat of my arousal. I glanced nervously around the classroom to check that no one else had seen, and to my relief, all the other girls were hard at work on their writing projects, their heads down and their concentration thankfully elsewhere.

I realized that I had little to worry about – my desk was in the far back corner of the classroom, a great place to obsess over Ms R without rousing too much suspicion. Still I would have to be careful. I now turned my attention to Ms Robinson’s white chiffon blouse, her collar unbuttoned and wide, the opening generous and revealing. From my point of view I had a tantalizing glimpse of her bra-strap. What a hot, teasing sight as Ms R breathed in and out, the rise and fall of her chest now rewarding me with brief flashes of rounded breast. Ms R’s blouse was parted all the way down to the top of her cleavage where it was loosely buttoned over her small breasts. The shirt then pinched in just below the swell of her boobs and was shaped perfectly to her slender waist, the hem ending an inch above the slim black belt of her skirt, a small gap between the two items of clothing drew my yes to a thin band of glowing skin all around her, this glimpse hinting at her athletic and flat stomach hidden just beneath.

With Ms Robinson’s position now by the side of Emma’s desk I could now check out her profile.

I softly gasped; from this angle I could see through the gap in between Ms Robinson’s blouse buttons. My heartbeat increased excitedly when I caught a glimpse of what was hidden just beneath. Ms R was wearing a sexy black embroidered balcony bra, its delicate cups cradled small and pert breasts, the mounds gently rising and falling inside with each of Ms R’s steady breaths. I imagined pushing a finger through the gap between the buttons, letting it creep under the intricate fabric of the black bra and teasing it around Ms R’s areole, feeling her breast tighten lightly as the nipple became erect and my trembling finger tracing the nip’s tender surface.

I sighed as my own nipples becoming erect at the thought, my small titties warming, my nipples hardening on my sensitive lumps, tingling with an insistent need to be touched.
I licked her lips again. Adrenaline burst through me at a wicked thought. Could I do i? was I going crazy. But there it was again, persistent, frantic: Why not just slip a finger inside my blouse and touch? No one would notice. No one would see. And even if they did they would just think I was having an itch.

I sat there for a moment my pussy wet, my heart pounding, a lustful shudder soon rippling through me. This delicious idea was growing in intensity, I knew what I had to do nothing would stop me.

Cautiously I moved my hand up to her mouth and quickly moistened the tip of my index finger finger with my now damp and pouting lips. I glanced around the classroom, no one else was looking, with my heart pounding I suddenly and eagerly pushing her finger into the gap between her own blouse buttons, feeding my wet fingertip under the soft cotton of my small training bra, searching out my achingly hard nipple.

I squeaked softly with the shooting pleasure as my moist finger and sharp nail found my stiff pert nipple. I bit at the back to mute any uncontrollable and suspicious noises as they escaped from her lips. I shivered in pleasure as I gently traced the edge of my stiff nipple, my eyes still locked onto the gap within Ms R’s shirt. The brief glimpses of round firm breasts was causing was making my pussy wet and juice was seeping into the crotch of my white cotton panties. It felt so fucking sexy!

I concentrated on the slimy heat of my cunt and began to enjoy the slick feeling, the gooey hotness below that was now rushing all over my body as I scratched my sharp finger nail back and forth over my hard little nipple. With each flick of my finger my tight little cunt seemed more and more the centre of a fire of sexual need.

It was as if every inch of my body tingled and I bit down on my hand tenderly, licking at the back of my knuckles imagining Ms R’s stiff nipple. It was as if my whole body was screaming with desire and my panties were getting wetter by the second. I could feel the, pulsing want of my tiny clit. I was on auto pilot now, being ruled by my basic instincts. I had to touch my cunt. It was the only way to caress my weeping pussy, feed the ache the need. But how could I. There were twenty other girls not to mention Ms. R only inches from my desk!

I looked down at my skirt, my legs spread wide my mind drunk with lust I paused and then released my nipple. I plunged my trembling hand under the desk, I fumbled at the waist of the skirt, too tight, shit!

I bend forward in desk, I grasped at the bottom of my skirt and hitched it up over my knees. I slowly shifted my weight onto my right ass cheek, tipping myself over a little then I lifted my left thigh ever so slightly off the chair. I traced the line of my skirt with the fingers of my left hand, freeing the hem from under my thigh I let it fall behind the back of the chair as my hand crept along the inside of my leg. Before I dropped my ass back onto the seat, I worked my left hand underneath me, slightly elevating my thigh. Then I pushed her hand under myself, slowly working my fingers toward my achingly wet cunt between my legs. I look a long slow breath, then sat my ass cheek back onto my wrist. I kept my weight on my right thigh, which the fingers of my trapped hand just enough freedom to push aside the wet crotch of my panties and part the moist velvety heat of my cunt lips.

The erotic pleasure was excruciating as I let my fingers slide up and down my sloppy slit,
teasing my cunt hole and my throbbinglittle clit. Each time I let a fingertip swirl around my slimy hot flesh bud it ignited a shot of electric pleasure, that made me squirm in my seat. I let my middle finger find my cunt hole and thrust into the damp, glistening depth. Still staring at Ms. R’s incredible body I panted excitedly as my fingers quickly moved in and out of my tiny tight cunt and my thumb prodded the slimy warm stiffness of my young clit., Oh fuck I thought I’m going to cum, with Ms R inches from my face. The rush of anticipation was almost too much, I finger fucked myself more urgently my tummy and thighs were trembling from my barely contained excitement.

I let out a faint gasp pushed my fuck finger as far as I could into my cunt. It was like no other cum I had ever had my wet cunt flesh so tight around the deep finger. I moved the finger in and out again one more time my whole body shivered, the rush of heat within me a delicious shock! My cunt was soon rippling around my stiff finger. My heart fluttered my eyes swirled I was taken over by the sensation of the outrageous act I was about to bring to its inevitable conclusion. As I fucked myself, and began grinding my thumb down hard on my throbbing little clit I glanced back to the delicious image of Ms R: her ass her amazing tities, the way she moved her body. Oh fuck I thought, I am so close.

I fucked the finger in and out my hungry little cunt, shifting her weight again wanting to push my finger deeper into her drenched little pussy. My lust, my desire for Ms R had overtaken me and I ignored any pain I felt in my twisted wrist. Despite the awkward position my middle finger went into the hilt. Lost in my lust I began to gently rock on my chair, thrusting my finger ever deeper and harder into my cunt, an electrifying sexual pleasure was building in a wave of erotic joy that slowly saturated my entire body.

I bit into my right hand hard to muffle the whimpers as I finger fucked myself, feeling my clit throb, and jump under the pressure of my thumb. Jolt after jolt of sexual electricity coursed through my body, she was about to cum, oh so close. Then an uncontrollable moan escaped from my lips even though I was almost swallowing my other hand.

This involuntary noise immediately forced her mind back into reality through the fuzziness of my approaching climax with a stab of sharp panic. I could suddenly feel that the atmosphere around me changed completely. I quickly glanced away from the intoxicating image of Ms R’s sensual profile and nervously checked the room to see if I had been found out.

“Oh God!”

I immediately jerked bolt-upright in panic, my finger withdrawn, my legs crossed, my heart thundering; Megan, the blonde girl that sat just to my right, was staring at me, her mouth wide open in shock, her eyes wide with surprise.

How long had she been watching me? What had she seen?

My eyes met hers and immediately we both looked away in embarrassment.

Then to my horror, I noticed Ms R had turned and was now looking down at me. I could feel her breathe as I tried to stop my heaving chest.

In a voice that sounded gruff, disciplinary Ms are said just this. “Alexandria, Megan, you will stay in your seats after class. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Ms Robinson.” I heard Megan say in a breathy voice.

All I could do was nod, my face flushed, careful not to meet Ms R’s steady hot glare.


2012-04-24 00:10:04
Good story. Sequel is definately called for MB. First, third person issues as noted by other reader. Still got a positive rating however. Thank you.

anonymous readerReport

2012-04-23 21:39:41
You switched from third to first person too often

Mafia BitchReport

2012-04-23 21:08:40
I'm sure you are joking. If you are rally 15 stay away from this site and my stories

anonymous readerReport

2012-04-23 20:25:32
Great story! :] Cannot wait for part two... I'm fifteen with a deep crush on my English teacher. Haha , so I feel the relation.

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