Mike Burgins had a headache. The class was stuffy and it was too cold to open the windows. It was too cold for most of these girls to wear their barely-there uniforms, what with their skirts resembling large belts. That, however, was the last thing on his mind. He still had 15 minutes to go before the end of the day and it seemed like an eternity. He loved subbing, but these damn private schools with their snooty little 18 year-old girls running through the halls giggling at every ounce of gossip they hear, and even some they didn't, annoyed him to no end. If it weren't for the ridiculous compensation graciously bestowed to him, he would stick to kindergarten in public schools, where kids didn't know what attitude was, and parents weren't quick to inform them. But he needed the money and teaching was his passion.
In the middle of delivering a captivating historical account on Alexander the Great, Mike caught a glimpse of two girls in the back row passing a note, paused and rolled his eyes.
"Ms. Geren, something to share?" he asked innocently, knowing he'd busted them.
"Not at all, Mr. Burgins", the one on the left replied, sweetly. She purposefully crossed her long legs and looked him right in the eye, as if daring him to further his questioning. Her voice was unmistakably seductive and Mike was fuelled by the opportunity to put her in her place. The girls were hot, not only by adolescent standards, but he was hardly going to allow them to use that to supersede his authority.
"Well, in that case, Samantha, you won't mind bringing me that note you just slipped to Emily".
Sweet Samantha's smile faded, but only momentarily. Perhaps she saw this as an opportunity; one Mike would not yet understand. "Absolutely, sir", her sugary voice dripped, as she sauntered up, swaying her ass like it wasn't attached to the rest of her body. Mike looked skeptical as he took the note from her, uncertain as to why her confidence was seemingly over-inflated, considering the circumstances. He slowly unfolded the letter, turned a deep shade of red, placed it on his desk and returned to his lecture.
Before proceeding, he quickly asserted "I'll see you after class, Ms. Geren", hoping that his voice didn't betray the uneasiness he felt in the pit of his stomach, as well as his crotch. The next 12 minutes passed far too quickly and when the bell rang, Mike's headache throbbed. All the short skirts ran by him, giggling in a manner that suggested that they were paid to piss him off, but Samantha remained in her seat, a pencil in her hand as she allowed the tip of the eraser to trace her pink, pouty lips.
Mike stood in front of his desk, leaning back against it, his arms and legs crossed as he contemplated how to best handle the situation. He picked up the note and, hoping to embarrass his inexperienced student, he read it aloud. "Mr. Burgins is fucking hot. SOOOOO fucking hot!! I bet I could do wonders with that rod in his pants." He chuckled for effect, thinking she would realize the immaturity in her words. Samantha merely smiled, her eyes narrow, as if she damn well meant every word and wanted the opportunity to prove it. That look didn't help Mike's intentions. If anything, it caused him to recognize that Samantha was likely much more experienced than he gave her credit for. She was now flicking her tongue ever so lightly against the eraser and all he could suddenly picture was that movement on his cock, which, to his horror, was feeling unmistakably erect. The last thing he ever wanted was to allow his libido to entertain these children's fantasies and right now, the only thing he wanted was for Samantha to entertain hers.
With that thought slipping through his mind, Mike had to come to grips with reality, which stated that he was a good 12 years older than his seductive student. The immorality of the mere thought of a teenie-bopper hard-on was bound to be documented in some statute, somewhere, and besides which, he absolutely hated these girls. He hated their voices and their hair and their money and their legs... But he fucking loved their legs. Who was he trying to kid? He loved it all.
All these deliberations were passing so distractedly through his head that Mike barely had a chance to notice that Samantha had risen from her seat and was steadily approaching him. Did she all of a sudden turn 28? Is that make-up she's wearing? Are those breasts for real!? Mike started to panic. Not because he had to think of a way to get Samantha out of his classroom and into detention, but because he was so scared that he would rip that silly school-girl skirt right off of her and commit the worst and best crime he could possibly imagine.
Unable to think clearly, mainly because there was a lack of blood-flow to his head, Mike could do very little to stop Samantha when she reached him, pushed her lithe body right up against his, wound her left hand around his neck and pulled him down into a sharp, hard kiss. Ok, the reality was that there was little he
wanted