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After-school Chat With Sameer

The rhythmic pounding of the drums from downstairs invaded the air in my little classroom, causing the sterile white walls to vibrate ever so slightly. It destroyed my concentration; I shook my head and tucked a long lock of brown hair behind my ear as I stared down at the exam I was grading. Eventually I realized that I had been reading the same line over and over again without once comprehending the meaning of it. Sighing, I capped my pen, placed it upon my desk, and leaned down to retrieve my emergency chocolate bar from my lower desk drawer. That thing was always more for mild frustrations than emergencies, anyway.

Sinking my teeth into the soft caramel, I closed my eyes and emitted a noise of simple pleasure, my mood almost restored. But, as I leaned my head down to take the second bite, it happened to me again. My hand shook, my mouth watered. It was all I could do to keep myself from squeezing the candy bar for all the world like it was a nice hard cock.

I should probably explain. At that point, it had been a while since I had had ANY sex or even done anything sexual at all... quite a while. It didn't take long before it began to bother me. At first, it was nothing worse than hearing an opportunity to say, 'that's what she said' after almost ANY phrase. I simply found the sexuality in everything. Eventually, though, it got much more intense.

You see, I've always been a very... oral... person, and after a while it became hard to eat anything remotely phallic in shape without craving, well, a cock in my mouth. Even wrapping my lips around a fork got me reminiscing about past flings; it was pathetic.

So there I was with my head in my hands, swallowing copious amounts of saliva, a barely eaten chocolate bar lying innocently on the stack of exams before me, when there was a knock at my classroom door. "Come in," I called, exasperated. I didn't think too much of the knock at this time.

It was Sameer. Those black eyes, those pensive lips... in my current state, it was impossible to see him as just a student. He silently grabbed a chair, nonchalantly sitting across from me, and his smile broke the stoic line of his mouth and brightened his face in a way that made my stomach lurch.

I cleared my throat invitingly. "Hey," he said, jerking his head upwards once.

"Hey."

We chatted as usual, and for quite some time, nothing out of the ordinary happened. We talked about grades, his peers (although I know it was quite immoral to have been gossiping about my own students), the weather, and eventually...

"Those stupid pep rallies annoy the crap out of me," I pouted as I swiveled to and fro in my desk chair.

"Why? It's not like you have to actually go to them... like me."

"It's those damn drums," I grumbled. "They get on my nerves."

"...the drums stopped."

"Oh," I looked around the room as if that would give me any indication as to whether or not the sound was still going on. "What time is it?"

"2:50," he said. "We've been chatting for, like, forty minutes."

"Oh," I said again, blinking, adding "It's quiet," dumbly.

"Yeah," said Sameer. "No one is around."

I stared at him a little. It was sort of an odd thing to say, and I felt a strange mix of anxiety and anticipation swirling in my gut. "Yeah," I responded, making sure to keep my tone light and casual.

He leaned forward, putting his elbow on the desk and gazing at me. I waited. Finally he asked, "How old are you again?"

I giggled, my cheeks growing warm. "32. Why?"

"No reason," he said quickly, breaking eye contact with me and looking down at his shoes. Several seconds passed. Then, he said: "I just turned 18."

"Oh, that's cool," I chirped nervously, picking up my pen and tracing lines across the desk with the wrong end of it. I stopped trying to look Sameer in the face, and instead gazed down at my test papers. Part of me wanted to make any excuse to leave and rush him out of there before anything 'bad' happened... but a much larger part of me wanted to stay, and let Sameer show his hand. I wanted so badly to be absolved of the responsibility to keep my distance, but there was no sense in risking anything before he had made it crystal clear that he wanted something to happen between us, so I remained silent and played with my pen.

"You seem nervous," he said. I looked up at him; his brow was furrowed. Before I could speak he went on: "You should know that I would never say anything to anybody that made it seem like we were... anything but teacher and student," he said firmly. My eyes met his. "I know it might be a little weird that we're good friends like we are... but, please, don't feel bad about it. Especially because I'm 18 now!" he added gladly. "It's totally okay for us to be friends... right?"

"Actually... it probably would be looked down upon if we hung out as peers at all... even If it was after you graduated," I responded, looking away, although I tried to sound reluctant, so he would know that I was sensitive about it. I could feel the heat rising in my face again and I resented it this time. "I'm sorry. I don't mean anything by it. You're certainly not doing anything wrong, now, by sitting here with me," I added in an awkward rush.

He chuckled, waving his hand at me dismissively. "Please," he said comfortingly. "I understand." Something funny happened in his face then. His smile remained present, but it somehow changed. His eyes darkened, and began to bore into me, unwavering. I wanted to look away, but felt locked to his gaze; something was brewing behind that expression, and I wanted to know what it was. I didn't have to wait long; he leaned back in his chair, and examined me for a couple of moments, as if sizing me up. We were playing a risky game, teacher and student flirting like this, and I was making him move first. I couldn't afford to have it any other way. I felt bad, but he seemed up to the challenge. He sniffed, averted his intense stare, and said, "It's just too bad, that's all."

I practically felt my own pupils dilate as I straightened my posture, crossing my legs and arms and lifting my head. I wondered whether this polite display of interest was enough to mask the fact that I was actually experiencing much emotional turmoil. The problem was that I hoped with all of my heart both that he would come onto me and that he wouldn't. I wanted the excuse to misbehave, but also the ability not to... and the excuse, I knew, would destroy the ability. "Why's that?" I murmured distractedly. My voice trembled, though I badly wanted it not to, and I felt cool goosebumps spread across my chest, breasts and arms.

He still didn't look back up at me as he said, so quietly that I could barely hear him, "Because I really like you." Then he laughed disdainfully. "I thought turning 18 would be my chance... to finally seduce you," he sighed resignedly, gesturing outwards with his hand and then letting it fall onto his leg with a light slapping sound. My eye was drawn there, to that dark hand sprawled across that slim, bright blue denim-clad thigh. I hadn't yet fully absorbed his words, but I was already absently responding to them, reaching up to the nape of my neck and releasing the clip there, allowing my wavy locks to fall to my shoulders. I dropped the device to the desk with a light, plastic clatter, reaching both of my hands up to run my fingers through my hair, shaking it out a little.

Needless to say, Sameer looked up then. I smiled mischievously, crossed my legs the other way, and picked up my pen again, sticking the wrong end of it between my lips and nibbling on it as my smirk grew wider. "How did you think you were going to do that?" I asked, shrugging. I was unable to keep the insidious curiosity from my voice.

"What?" he blurted, surprised.

I just raised an eyebrow and continued to smile.

"L-like how?" he stammered.

"Like, how." I repeated gently, indicating my agreement. My tone was sultry, confident. Now that my ability not to misbehave had been taken away... I was unstoppable. I could already feel the heat in my pussy growing as I stared at his innocent, shocked face. Yes, he was young... but I didn't feel wrong in what I was doing because I knew he wanted me.

He reached up to the back of his head and scratched there again. I laughed; he was so cute when he did that because I knew it meant that he was feeling awkward. "Just tell me," I cooed softly, tilting my head at him. "I won't tell anyone."

I saw his eyebrows shoot up. Then, he gave me a look I will never forget.... Like he was a puppy who thought he'd just heard the word 'treat', but wasn't sure. I saw in his face what I felt in myself the very moment the word 'seduce' had passed his lips. It was hard not to laugh at him again while I waited for him to finally respond.

His head swiveled around for a split second as he checked the window of the classroom door; it was all clear outside. He checked two or three more times before he finally said: "I guess I was thinking I'd... take out my dick... while you weren't looking," he breathed, sounding almost terrified, "and then let you see how hard it was when you turned around." He shrugged with one shoulder, as if he only half-meant it.

"Like, how?" I asked him, in a mocking little voice to tease him for how he'd said it before.

"L-like, how?" He repeated it a second time, in just the exact same way, too.

I grinned widely at him and shrugged. "Show me how." My inner walls ached with anticipation as I began to stare at his crotch, my chin resting in my hand. I was breathing so deeply and so rapidly that my blouse was beginning to stretch a bit tight over my D-cup breasts. I unfastened several buttons without removing my gaze from Sameer's jeans, revealing the black lace at the top of what I called my fish-scale bra because of its shimmering, dark teal color. It was my very favorite bra back then.

"Okay," he said, voice rising and falling just as it would've if he'd said, "If you want me to." It was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard. I felt the joy spreading across my face as I actually lifted my butt out of my chair in order to lean forward and peer at what he had to offer.

His hand was already moving towards the brass button on his pants. Emotions swelled in the center of my chest in a great crescendo; I almost found myself thanking God for whatever what was about to happen.

He checked the window again; I cussed inside, growing impatient. The tiniest bit more vulnerable, I thought. Just make yourself the tiniest bit more vulnerable, and I'll take it from there.

He finally did. My wet panties clung to my pussy as I stood up suddenly, charged. 'It' was huge, obviously aroused, so full and erect that the head was round and shining. Its upward curve was exotic and inviting, it looked so smooth and warm, and so completely hard.

I couldn't keep myself from giggling and gasping out loud. "Sameer," I said, pleasantly surprised. I bit my lower lip as I gawked at it. "I think that, as long as you tried to seduced me this way—by showing me your cock, I mean—" he sat up visibly as I said the word. "It would have worked."

"It would've?" he asked breathlessly, gripping his cock at the very base with his thumb, index and middle finger. He wagged it at me just a little bit, and I came out from behind the desk to stand before him.

"Yes, definitely," I said, taking in the vision of his hard, dark rod from above.

"So that means... it's not working now?" He asked playfully, shaking 'it' at me some more.

I didn't know what to say. I just wanted to make my move. I knelt before him on the rough carpet and looked up at him, handing him the power that rested between us. He accepted it graciously, standing up and pushing the chair back away from him with his foot. His cock extended straight towards my mouth from his lower belly. I could see the mass of dark pubic hair erupting from his open zipper, and delicately, I reached forward to feel it. It was coarse and thick; very different from the warm, sturdy hand that wrapped over mine a moment later, encouraging me. I looked up into his face. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

He looked at me like I was an idiot, then pushed the head of his cock against my lips, wanting in. I smiled against his warm member and then took it, spreading my knees for balance and lifting one hand to brace myself against his strong hip while I stroked the bottom of his shaft with my other. Trembling, he moaned out loud, letting go of his penis and running his fingers through my hair, grasping my light, fragile head tightly, but not pulling or pushing. He let me do my job how I wanted to do it.

His cock swelled in my mouth as I sunk further and further along the shaft. I closed my eyes, shutting out the pale, cheap, yellow light that filled the classroom and intensifying the sensations coursing through my body. I was all too aware of the stiff dick in my mouth, and I whined as I worked it, breathing raggedly through my nose. He didn't stop groaning, himself, and soon my cunt was throbbing from the sheer stimulation, although nothing had made contact with its tender skin.

The blow job was rough on my lips because of how completely aroused he was, but I pursued the base of his cock relentlessly, taking his shaft further and further into my throat until he was making positively effeminate noises of ecstasy. His fingers, entangled in my hair, tightened their grasp. He was completely under my control.

I could tell that he was inexperienced because he came so quickly. The drool had barely begun sliding down my chin before he announced his impending orgasm, spreading his legs and positively quaking.

In between the heated, helpless thrusts of his cock, I managed to say, "You're gonna come on my face, baby." He nodded his choked agreement, submitting to me as he leaned back and watched me handle his cock.

I took his large load eagerly, jerking it out of him onto my right cheek, my left cheek, and my lips and tongue while he whimpered from above me. He came quite a lot, and it was warm, and thick.

I grinned devilishly up at him, trying as hard as I could not to giggle again for fear of rattling his young, adorable confidence. "Did you like that?" I said huskily, a little out of breath.

"Yeees," he exhaled hotly, stumbling a little as he backed away from me slightly to pull his jeans back up. He was shaking his head when I looked across at him after I'd finished cleaning myself up and straightening out my clothing and hair.

I smiled warmly. "Good." Then, I glanced at the clock. "It's 3:01," I announced awkwardly. "I think I should go home."

"Yeah," he responded through a joyful daze. "Totally."

I paused, holding back for just a moment before I decided to go ahead and say what was on my mind. "It's been awhile for me, since I've enjoyed... anything like that," I admitted. "Thank you for coming in here today. I'll never forget it."

"You're welcome, Ms. Langley."

"Please," I whispered to him as we made our way out the classroom door together and I shut out the lights, "call me Tina."

Our eyes met. I blushed. "You know. When we're alone," I added awkwardly.

"When we're alone," he repeated, enchanted, and the awkwardness dispersed to make way for a warm flood of taboo and very enticing affection.

I leaned over to kiss his cheek before we parted. It was going to be hard keeping my composure in class around Sameer from now on, but... afterschool chats with him were about to get a LOT more interesting.

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