I might have mentioned this before or you’ve concluded on your own, but it’s worth mentioning it again.
I have the biggest crush on my substitute English teacher. Talk about hot. The guy looks like a model, you know, one of those GQ types.
When he came to our school last year, just before the summer break, all the girls went wild, no teacher at our school ever looked like him. I mean, we have some hot ones, but nothing even remotely close to his caliber.
Our regular English teacher went on maternity leave a little early, apparently for some the morning sickness doesn't end after the first trimester, and it was really bad for her, that's why her doctor recommended bed rest.
We were left with no teacher, but our principal, who by the way is also quite attractive, for an older guy, 35 to be exact, asked someone he knew for a favor, and he came to our school, so we only had him for about a month, but it was enough to have all the girls crazy in love with him.
We later found out it was Mr. Barnett's older brother, a friend of our principal, who talked him into coming here.
Adam Barnett is a famous writer, who writes thrillers and mystery novels, producing one bestseller after the other. He also has a PhD in English Literature and was a recurring guest lecturer in universities all over the world.
He certainly didn't need the money he would get for teaching at our little prep school, but apparently he enjoyed it on occasion, that is, when he wasn't busy writing his next bestseller.
Last year we had a school picnic by the lake and when he played volleyball with the guys he took his shirt off. I swear to God, every girl in the vicinity was literally drooling, even a few of the female teachers started fanning themselves. Forget six pack, can you say eight pack?
Since when have English teachers become hot? Aren't they all supposed to be these nerdy guys with glasses, wearing vests and bowties? Well, he does sometimes use reading glasses, but they only make him more attractive. Seriously, no one is supposed to be this hot, especially not a teacher at a prep school.
All those privileged girls with raging hormones, raised from birth to think we could have or get anything we want.
How could we possibly resist?
The first time he touched me was when he gave me a ride home one day. My car broke down and when I was slamming the door in frustration and was just about to call home for my mother to pick me up, he walked out of the school.
He offered to drive me home and I gladly accepted. On the drive we talked about school and the assignment he gave us, and of course the comment Mandy made, why do we always have to read stuff from old boring guys and then figure out what lesson they were trying to teach us or what they were trying to say about people or society when they wrote this or that…
Why can't we read something fun, you know, like Fifty Shades of Grey, that's educational, and current, since everybody is still talking about the movies and the books and how hot Jamie Dornan is.
We all laughed, obviously, but it sparked a debate about sexuality and people's interests, not to mention why all the kinky stuff is so 'in' right now. I didn't say anything in class, just blushed profusely. I read the books and watched the movies… several times… and loved them, duh. What's not to love? They're beyond hot, but still emotional with a good story. Don't get me started on the actors. Yeah, I'm a fan. Sue me.
Mr. Barnett asked me what I thought of the discussion and I blushingly told him that I like the books too, and the movies.
He looked at me and smiled. It was unusual though, because his eyes shifted as if he was contemplating something and his hands on the steering wheel tightened substantially until he was gripping it tightly and then all of a sudden he relaxed and all went back to normal.
We continued our conversation and I noticed he kept stealing little glances of me. We stopped at the red light and he turned, looking into my eyes. I saw the heat there and shuddered. I mean we've been flirting from time to time, especially during our private discussions about schoolwork and assignments, but that's what all the girls did.
We all thought he was super hot and were trying to get his attention, one way or the other, some were upfront about it and some were more coy and shy. He always smiled at us, and I thought even flirted a little, nothing too obvious though, he was always very professional, but still friendly to everyone.
There was nothing professional about how he was looking at me in the car though. We were so close, I could feel the heat emanating from his body and he could definitely feel my shudders.
He put his hand on my knee and squeezed it lightly, not moving. Then he slowly moved it upward, caressing my stocking covered thigh. He went up and down a few times until he reached the edge of my skirt. I thought he was going to stop, but he kept going, his fingers slowly moving beneath my skirt, but just a little. He stopped again, slowly petting me and making me shiver.
He was looking down at his hand and the progress it was making when he suddenly looked up into my eyes and held my gaze. His hand started moving again, up and up it went, until he reached the edge of my panties, he slowly caressed the juncture between my thighs and then his thumb stroked over the fabric of my panties, right there, where my pleasure was concentrated. He petted my clit and I jumped a little, no one other than myself had ever touched me there, but it felt so good, being touched by him. My legs parted by themselves, giving him more access. He pressed harder against my clit and I leaned back, closing my eyes when I heard a car horn and his hand was gone.
I groaned in frustration. I didn't want it to end, but I was also mortified by what I let happen. He was my teacher after all, and what we did, what he did, was not appropriate.
I knew it was wrong, but it turned me on even more because of it, and I think he felt the same. We didn't stop there, now did we?
