Teacher’s Pet

Teacher’s Pet 2: An Enthralling Tale of Seduction and Desire

Literotic asexstories – Teacher’s Pet by Many Feathers,

Growing up as a kid, I had a pretty low self-esteem. It wasn’t my looks either. Like any teenager growing up, I hadn’t as yet hit my maturity peak. Awkward, still growing into my rapidly changing body, with a shyness borne from a perception of myself, I tended to withdraw from making friends with anyone.

By the time I had reached high school, I was falling behind in several of my classes, adding to the perceptions of myself as being less than capable of being able to understand or do anything. I certainly didn’t consider myself as being stupid, but others did.

The fact that I was strong, well built kept me out of a lot of fights. But being labeled with “not playing with a full deck”, as I’d often heard also kept me from dating or having any really close friends.

And to make matters worse, it became obvious during my senior year of high school that I wasn’t going to have enough credits to graduate for having failed or performed miserably in too many of my classes. To my dismay, furthering my low opinion of myself, I was held back a year in the hopes that I would somehow eventually come to learn and understand the subjects that had been causing me to fail so miserably in my life.

Finally, someone took interest in me as a person. A teacher who had only recently transferred to the high school I was attending, and who had had similar experience with other students such as myself. It was discovered that I had a very severe case of dyslexia, something I had unknowingly been struggling with for years. Not only had it affected my ability to read and understand words, but also mathematical problems had become all but impossible for me to be able to work through.

My salvation came in the form of a woman whom I affectionately called “Ms. Jenkins”.

Shortly after the start of the school year, she recognized almost immediately what the problem was I was experiencing. After speaking with my parents one evening, she went so far as to volunteer to tutor me after school three times a week, provided I was willing to put in the extra time it would take to turn things around for myself, and ensure I would actually graduate.

For the first time in years, I was excited, enthusiastic, and willing to do whatever it took. Though I had recently turned eighteen, I hadn’t been able to pass the written test in order to obtain my drivers license, just one more little thorn in my side that set me apart from everyone else. Ms. Jenkins had worked it out with my parents however that she would take me home to her place after school, feed me, and then sit down with me for a couple of hours of arduous and difficult work while she began showing me how to work through and over come my problem. Afterwards, she would drive me the short distance to my home having loaded me up with simple, yet numerous tasks all designed to help me with my reading disability.

I had guessed correctly as I later learned, that Ms. Jenkins was in her late thirties. Though her hair was obviously long and dark, she most often wore it up in a tight bun behind her head. She wore little if any make-up, a pair of reading glasses most often dangling on a chain about her neck, resting casually against a pair of full breasts that she ensured were downplayed by the less than provocative clothing she most often wore during classes. To say she looked plain would have been an understatement. Most would call her an old maid, simply because she lived alone for reasons I didn’t know or understand at the time. Others saw her as a kind and friendly woman, which she was. But without any obvious sex appeal whatsoever, self included.

A lot of that changed the very first evening we spent at her place when we began my tutoring.

Ms. Jenkins lived in a small but comfortable two-bedroom apartment. Nicely but simply furnished, she immediately directed me to have a seat at her small, but cozy looking kitchen table which sat adjacent to a fairly large window over looking the courtyard behind the building complex she was living in. Below sat a moderate sized swimming pool, currently unoccupied, along with a Jacuzzi where a young couple sat sipping and drinking wine.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked.

“I’d love a beer,” I told her.

She actually laughed. “I would too, but I don’t think that would be very appropriate under the circumstances,” she added. “How about a coke?”

“That’d be great!” I replied a little sheepishly. Though my attempt at humor had been obviously well received, it was also my only defense mechanism whenever I was extremely nervous, which I was now.

I watched as Ms. Jenkins leaned into the refrigerator retrieving our cokes. She had worn slacks today, along with a high collared white blouse. Upon entering her apartment, she’d removed her jacket tossing it over the back of one of her living room chairs. Her white blouse was just sheer enough to reveal the delicate lacy bra she was wearing. As she turned from the refrigerator, I noticed the twin hard little nubs of her nipples as they pressed firmly against the material of her blouse. Averting my eyes almost immediately so that she didn’t catch me looking, I accepted my coke graciously from her.

“Would you like a glass?”

“Ah, no thanks. This is fine,” I assured her still averting my eyes until she turned to reach into the cupboard taking a glass down for her self. Once again I glanced towards her chest, but already her nipples were withdrawing noticeably back into the warmer confines of her bra.

“Why don’t you turn to page seventeen of your work book, and read through that short story for me while I change clothes,” she said. “After you’ve done that, we’ll sit down and read it through together.”

At first it was hard to concentrate. My mind wandered briefly as I once again scanned the surroundings of her apartment, leaning forward slightly in order to have a better look down the hallway where she had moments ago headed towards what I could only assume was her bedroom. To my surprise, I saw that her bedroom door was still slightly open, but even more surprisingly, I caught her reflection in a nearby bedroom mirror on her vanity. Standing just inside her closet, I watched as she carefully removed her blouse, then her slacks until she was standing in nothing but that lacy bra and a pair of matching white panties.

Somewhat alarmed, I leaned away back towards the table and the book that was staring up at me. I tried to focus on the words that were formed there, but my mind was once again elsewhere. Hearing movement, I sat up leaning forward once again, just catching her reflection as she slid into a pair of comfortable looking sweatpants. But to my astonishment and shock, her bare breasts swung freely and openly before my gazing eyes before she moments later pulled a matching sweatshirt over herself concealing them once again.

I returned to the book desperately trying to read the story before her return, realization dawning on me that when she did return, she would be wonderfully and erotically braless beneath that bulky non-form fitting garment. Even so, I felt my prick lurch in recognition of that hidden fact.

Hearing her footsteps as she came back towards me, I was startled to some degree as she sat down across from me taking a sip of her coke. Her hair was down. I had never seen it that way before. It fell well below her shoulders, framing her oval shaped face so perfectly giving her a much more alluring expression and look than anyone might ever realize. Even the small amount of make-up that she wore seemed to better highlight her light blue eyes, perky nose and sensual full lips though she didn’t appear to be wearing anything more than lip-gloss.

“How we doing?” she asked.

“I’m getting there,” I stammered uneasily.

Truth was, that was my problem. The erection I’d begun to feel growing hadn’t abated one iota. If anything, it was getting uncomfortably worse as I took brief glances up from the book I was supposedly reading to take in this new image of Ms. Jenkins that I was suddenly seeing for the first time.

“You’re not concentrating,” she said observantly.

She had me there. I hadn’t even turned the first page, which at the minimum even with my difficulty reading I should have been able to do in the length of time given.

I watched her hand cross over towards the book, sliding it out and away from beneath mine. She closed it leaning back in her chair looking at me.

“You seem nervous. Why don’t we chat for a while first, and then when you’re more comfortable, we’ll try it again,” she stated easily.

“Thank you, I’d like that,” I replied sipping my soda.

She soothed me by asking me what kinds of things I enjoyed doing, what types of hobbies I had, what I did for fun, favorite movies and TV shows. Thankfully, my erection subsided as I began concentrating more on that, and less and less on her bare breasts so perfectly concealed beneath the loose bulky sweatshirt.

Having no real social skills, when I had answered pretty much everything she had asked me, she then asked me if there was anything I wanted to know about her.

“Obviously you’re not married,” I began, seeing the surprised look in her face as I spoke. “How come?”

She smiled, but it was a sad smile and I could tell it wasn’t easy for her as she stood up making her way over towards the sink where she turned on the water, rinsing out her glass before placing it down on the counter, turning to face me.

“I’m divorced,” she said frankly. “Nearly four years now,” she added.

I nodded my head, though not in understanding as to why. She really was an attractive looking woman and I couldn’t understand for the life of me why anyone wouldn’t want to be married to someone as nice and obviously as caring as she was.

“You have any kids?” I asked, once again showing my naiveté at what for her was obviously a delicate subject.

“No. Jack and I, my husband…or rather ex-husband I guess, couldn’t have kids. Not that I didn’t want any. I did. I’m just not capable of having any. Which is one of the reasons I became a teacher to begin with. I love kids, and love teaching them, especially kids who need a little extra help.”