He began to get nervous and excited as he got closer to his desk; the anticipation tingled through his limbs. He knew it was wrong to hope his admirer had left another letter, but it was like an addiction. This was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to this 27 year-old teacher.
The top drawer of his desk was slightly ajar and he saw a pastel colored envelope laying there. He debated in his mind, as he always did at this point, should he read it or shouldn't he? Deep down he knew he would, but he felt better about himself if he struggled with it for a while.
The letters were coming frequently now, every couple of days instead of once a week like before. This was a small school and he was having trouble keeping his composure around each and every woman who passed him in the halls. He was also becoming more aware that these sultry letters were beginning to seem like they could be coming from a student, and even though he knew it was wrong, this excited him even more. The letters always started in the same way:
'I watched you eat your lunch today. The way your mouth looked when you brought the food to your lips when you ran your tongue along them to catch any drips that had not made it into your mouth was almost more than I could take. The thought of those lips tasting me from head to toe brought me to the edge. My body started to quiver and I had to look away, afraid that I wouldn't be able to stop. I followed you down the hall and imagined you turning, seeing me, and then pulling me into the nearest empty room, throwing me down on a table, lifting my skirt, and taking me from behind. I got so excited I couldn't help myself. I ran to the ladies room and pleasured myself with thoughts of you.'
Mike had to put the letter down. He looked around to make sure he was still alone; worried that anyone around him would notice his excited expression. Class was about to begin, and Mike had his advanced art students this hour; juniors mostly, and very talented. They were a good class to have, and he enjoyed his time with them. They would be a good distraction he believed, although in actuality he thought about the letter throughout the class. The next hour was for independent study, and as it was a very quite class, he had an opportunity to read more of the letter.
'I'll read for a bit and if I get too much into it, I will put it away,' he thought, trying to convince himself.
'Do you ever feel like the life you have been living is a lie?'
This was different; it was more personal then her normal flirting. She didn't normally ask him questions, other than 'do you want me?' Which he did! It continued:
'Life in this town is the same everyday. People are afraid to be who they really are. They don't want people to think they might be different. What would others think of the things I want to do with a married art teacher who is just as tired of being something he is not as I am?' Mike folded the letter and put it in his briefcase. How could someone have the ability to take his mind to the very edge of his limits? This girl was more inside him and his darkest thoughts then anyone else had ever been. He began to worry even more about who could be writing to him and the power they could have if these thoughts were ever exposed. The day's last bell rang, and he headed home. Getting home as usual at 4:00pm, Mike kissed his wife, had supper as a family as always, read to his kids and then put then to bed. He finished the dishes and then spent much of the evening thinking about the letters. He was still extremely turned-on at the thought of her masturbating in the girls' restroom.
He headed to bed and called to his wife, "Are you coming up soon?"
"Not for a while," he heard her respond, "good night." As he crawled into bed he thought about what he wanted to do to his mystery female. What was she doing? Maybe she was thinking of him, or writing him another letter. What if she was pleasuring herself at this very moment? He slid his hand under the covers to his already hard cock. He imagined her watching him. His hand began to pump at this thought. He closed his eyes and tried to picture what she may look like, but the fact that he had no Idea who she was just seemed to make him hornier. When he came, his orgasm was massively intense. Next morning, Mike entered his classroom in the same controlled manner as always. Today was different though, inside himself he was extremely nervous. He sat at his desk and stared at the drawer which may or may not hold a new letter. He fought his desire to open it and see. The classes came and went.
He ate lunch looking in turn at everyone he could. Who was the mystery writer? The thought of this and a renewed desire to look in the draw caused him to run back to his classroom. He opened the draw. Yes, a letter was there, beaconing to him, as if to say, read me, you know you want to.
'You wore that shirt today that I love; the one that's tight in all the right places. You put your hand on my shoulder in class, and as you walked around me to look at my project I let my hand drop to my side. The back of it rubbed against the round of your pants. I had to take my panties off after class they were so wet.'
He dropped the letter. Finally he was certain that she was one of his students. He'd known it was possible, but the reality of it just hit him like a ton of bricks. He picked the letter up and read on.
'I've been thinking of all the letters I have written and the many orgasms I've had just thinking about you. Six long months I have been telling you how much I want you and I have decided that my fantasies are no longer enough to satisfy me. I want you inside me. I need to know if you're ready. Now that you know I am in one of your classes come find me.'
Find her! What the hell kind of a game was she playing? If she was a student, he couldn't possibly ask the kind of questions needed to be sure who it was. He'd be reported, probably even fired and then his career would be totally finished. He read through the letter again, and then pulled out his class lists. Mike tried desperately to eliminate possibilities, but it was completely useless. A few days passed and he wasn't getting any closer to figuring out this puzzle. He was driving himself mad. It was affecting his sleep, and work no longer seemed important. His marriage was already in so much trouble that his wife didn't even notice he was distracted. Mike decided to find a clever way to ask for help in finding her; he was getting tired of playing.
What he did was to give the same talk to all his classes. He explained to his students how important it was to go after what they wanted; that if their passion for something was intense enough, they must take whatever action was required to achieve their goals. He particularly emphasised that they must never be afraid to ask questions or seek help from others. He hoped she would get the message.
The last bell of the day rang and he sat at his desk, waiting for her to respond. 'I can't do this,' he though to himself. 'I need to go.' He grabbed his keys and headed for the door. But, just as he locked his room and started up the stairs he heard a familiar voice.
"Mr. K," she said. He turned and faced her.
