Chapter 6

The beautiful, arrogant bastard was actually blocking her office doorway this time. He stood there and grinned at her, and it was clear he wasn't going to let her through until she'd given in and agreed to date him.

Or so he thought.

"Burt, I'm going to be late for my class,"

Chris said, making her voice reasonable. She was holding her books and notes in ner arms as she stood just inside her office doorway.

"All you have to say is yes, Chris," Burt Jenkins grinned. "Just yes. That's all." He smiled at her winningly. "And all it obligates you to is a good dinner."

"Plus what?" she asked levelly, keeping her distance from him.

His eyes twinkled as they ran up and down her slim, beautiful body, encased in a gold top and a bronze skirt. Her raven hair was like jet as it framed her face.

"Plus whatever you want," he said softly.

"That's what I was afraid of."

"Afraid of, Chris? What an odd thing to say. Tell me, what are you afraid of? Me?"

"That's conceited."

He laughed softly and shook his head. "Boy, I don't know. You're a tough one to figure out. You've just about got me stumped."

"Good. Now, will you let me through so I can get to my class before I'm late?"

He took his arm from the door frame, but he didn't get out of her way. She looked at him. She felt as if he were making her run a gantlet.

She shivered slightly. It was difficult to hate him. In truth, she'd never really hated him. He was nice enough. But she knew his kind, knew what he was after from her.

She started forward, then stopped and looked at him again. He hadn't made a move. But she wasn't really close enough yet. Would he grab her? Would he really do that?

"Please, Chris," he said very softly. "Tonight. Just dinner. Then you can go right home or wherever you want to."

"You always leave it open, don't you Burt. Not just home. But a chance to change my mind."

"Women do that, I hear," he grinned.

"Hasn't it occurred to you yet that I'm not going to change my mind?"

He scratched his head and grinned. "That thought has been nudging me a little, yes. But there's always a chance-isn't there?"

"No," she said flatly.

He sighed heavily and half turned away from her, shaking his head, laughing softly. "All right, all right, Chris. I give up. I really give up this time. You win. I won't ask you again."

"For a week, anyway," she said quietly. She couldn't keep from grinning just a little.

He glanced back at her and caught it and grinned with her. "Yeah, for a week, maybe."

She started through the doorway again. To her surprise-or maybe not really-he reached out and took her in his arms quickly. His lips came against hers before she could even register enough shock to turn her head to the side.

"No, Burt!" she cried against his mouth, trying to pull back.

Her spine arched. Her firm-tipped tits pushed against his chest. The circle of his arms was strong and unyielding. She felt his leg push between hers.

She didn't know if it was an accident of their struggle or whether he'd planned it, but one of his thighs became wedged between hers and pressed up against her pussy with shocking sensuality.

That wasn't all. She felt the bulge of his prick and balls against her own thigh. His cock seemed to grow while they were in contact, as if he were a stud bull with the scent up his nose, immediately ready to fuck her.

They struggled and grappled silently. His kiss was nearly brutal, just the way she'd known it would be. He wasn't gentle with her. He was ready to throw her to the alcove floor and yank up her skirt and ram his big cock into her, just the way he did with the schoolgirls who came into his office wanting to be fucked.

He released her suddenly, and she tore her mouth free. She stood back from him, her butt against the wall, her breasts heaving fitfully against the gold satin of her blouse.

"You arrogant bastard!" she hissed.

He grinned at her and licked his lips. "Take it easy, Chris. That didn't hurt you any."

"What the hell do you imagine you've accomplished by that childish display!"

"Total resistance," he said. "Exactly!"

He shrugged. "Well, I had it anyway, didn't I? Or are you saying I didn't? Did I lose out on something after all, Chris?"

"Why, you . . . " she sputtered.

"Oh, Chris," he said softly, starting toward her. "You're so tight and boxed up inside. Come out with me tonight, please. I'll behave, I promise. I just had to see if what I thought was true, and it was."

"Nothing was true!" she cried.

He laughed softly, and she suddenly realized how silly she sounded. She fumed silently and then spun away from him and stomped out the alcove door into the hallway.

Passing students looked at her curiously, and she made a conscious effort to pull herself together. She had difficulty. He had touched something deep inside her being. He had guessed her desperate need.

But he had also reinforced her determination not to give in to any man like him-any man seeking a piece of her ass.

She knew it for certain when she walked into her classroom and saw Jim Arland. Her gaze fixed onto his curly hair, shining in the sun like yellow fire. She saw the bright blue of his eyes, saw that there was something new and shining in them.

She looked at the sweetness and near devotion on his boyish face, and she knew that she had to have him. She would have chosen him over five men as handsome as Burt Jenkins.

Her pussy seemed to itch and throb all through that period. It didn't matter if she stood or sat or walked around, her cunt throbbed and leaked shamelessly into her panties.

She felt as if there were a puddle between her thighs. She imagined she could even smell the aroma of her juices wafting up from her thighs.

She gazed at Jim Arland all period. She prayed the other students didn't notice, didn't suspect. He gazed back. They spoke with their eyes, and she knew she wouldn't have to tell him to come to her after class.

He sat at his desk after the bell rang. He fumbled with papers and his notebook, pretending last-minute business. He didn't look up when Betty Johnson passed his desk, even though she spoke to him. The look on her face was not kind.

When all the other students were out of the room, he glanced up. Their eyes locked. His face was strangely taut, his expression worried and dubious.

Chris smiled a warm, inviting smile. He smiled back with a gust of breath he'd been holding. He gathered his books and came forward, tripping over a desk like a clumsy boy.

He looked up at her guiltily. Then he saw her expression and knew it didn't matter if he was a clod, and he smiled with sunshine radiance.

He stood before her, his lips quivering, a sweet suspense filling the space between them. She let it hang.

"I talked to Holly yesterday, Jim," she said softly, finally breaking the unbearable magic of the moment. She felt her heart pound rapidly. She felt as if she were a schoolgirl herself again-just as she had with Howard, back then.

"She said . . . " Jim croaked. He cleared his throat and smiled nervously. Cool. Suave as hell. Couldn't even talk right.

"Did she give you my message?"

"Yes," he whispered.

"Did you believe her, Jim?"

He had trouble with his throat again and ended up shaking his head negatively.

"Do you believe now?"

"I . . . I . . . "

"You didn't.. . do anything to her, did you, Jim?"

"Not . . . not what you mean, Miss Poston," he said, his eyes gleaming brightly, his face coloring.

"Other things?"

"Yes," he whispered.

"Good things?"

"Oh, yes!" he blurted. "Wonderful things!"

"You've told no one-no one at all?"

"Oh, no, Miss Poston! I swear it!"

She smiled warmly, her eyes running over his innocent, sweet face again and again. She wanted to take him in her arms. She wanted to press her tits against him fully, just as they had pressed against Burt Jenkins a while ago.

But what a difference there would be. His lips would be gentle and quivering. His prick would rise against her pussy, full and strong, trembling with youthful desire. He would gasp and shake and be as gentle as a butterfly's caress.

And if she put her hand to his prick and stroked it softly, he would gasp and spurt his young load immediately, and she would be glad.

Glad!

Because it would prove his innocence, his youth, his freshness with a woman. And there'd be no recrimination because he came. There would be plenty more vigor, more spurting, more strength in his rigid prick.

The smile left her face suddenly. She pushed through some papers on her desk.

"Jim, your homework hasn't been very good lately. In fact, it seems that you've just been missing out altogether. If you don't do something about it very soon, I'm afraid you're headed for a D this term."

She looked up at him, keeping her face straight.

His adoring smile quivered away. He looked at her, bewildered. "But, I . . . but. . . "

He saw the tiny twinkle in her eye. "Well, maybe you're right, Miss Poston." Then he heard the scrape of shoe leather at the doorway to the classroom. He glanced over quickly and saw Mr. Jenkins standing there, watching and listening.

"I just don't seem to get what's going on any more," he continued.

"Well, that's why I called you up just now. You've done so well so far, it would be a shame to pull in a D at this point. I think you'd better come see me before the test tomorrow."

"The test tomorrow?" he questioned. "Oh! Oh, the test!" He glanced at Mr. Jenkins again and licked his lips. Jenkins was leaning in the doorway, not missing a word.

"Holly's having trouble too," Chris said, pleased that he was catching onto the game quickly enough not to remind her that Holly wasn't even in the class. "By the way, was she sick today? I didn't see her."

"Yeah . . . uh . . . no, she had to go to the dentist."

"Oh. Well, I think you'd both better come to my apartment tonight, and let's see if we can't iron out this problem the two of you are having. It looks to me as if you're helping each other with your homework, when neither one of you quite know what you're doing."

He grinned at her, but not too hard, because Jenkins was still watching. "That's right, Miss Poston. I guess we'd better have you teach us right so we won't flunk."

He looked directly at Mr. Jenkins when he said it. He was astounded at how cool and slick he suddenly felt.

"Fine," she said. "I'll expect both of you about eight-thirty, then. You know where I live? Fine, that's all, Jim."

"Thanks, Miss Poston," he said, stepping back from her. Just another student getting the word, that's all.

"You can thank me after you pass," she smiled.

She turned toward the doorway and acted as if she'd noticed Burt Jenkins for the first time. "Yes ? " she said.

He waited until Jim left the room, watching him walk out the door. He sighed and looked a little sheepish.

"I came to apologize, Chris," he said earnestly.

She regarded him a moment. Was he truly sorry, or was this another ploy of his?

"You needn't have," she said abruptly. "It meant nothing to me. Absolutely nothing."

He made a face. "Ouch! Well, I guess I deserved that one, all right."

"If you think so." She shifted her weight.

"Is that all, Burt?"

"Well, it wasn't," he grinned, scratching his head in his self-effacing way again. "I had in mind to try to ask you out again. But I guess you'll be busy tonight now."

"Yes, I will," she said, feeling her pussy jump impatiently.

Busy, busy, busy!

She could barely wait. The hands crawled around the clock. She paced around the apartment and made sure everything was cozy and inviting.

She sat in a chair and imagined how it would go. When she did that, her pussy squirmed and leaked so much she had to change her wet panties. When she thought about it, she had to squeeze her thighs together to try to still the sensations boiling through her heated body.

She was going to be fucked at last. Not by a selfish, crude ass-hound but by a sweet, innocent, wonderful boy. She clamped her hand over her twat, squeezed tightly and moaned.

"Ohhhhh, don't . . . don't . . . " she pleaded with herself, talking to her fingers as if they had separate wills that were trying to subdue her and bring her needed orgasm. They dabbled at her wet pussy and made her terribly hot.

The door bell chimed. She snatched her hand from beneath her short dress and nearly flew from the chair to answer it.

"H-Hi, Miss Poston," Jim said nervously, standing there grinning like a big wonderful kid.

"Hello again, Miss Poston," Holly said softly. She smiled and half giggled. "We're ready for our lesson."

She looked radiant and sweet. Her red hair gleamed. She carried her tiny girl's body in a whole new way, almost as if she were a grown woman now, and Chris could only guess at what the two of them had done with each other the night before.

"Oh, come in," Chris whispered. Her voice was husky. She felt almost as nervous as Jim looked.

She closed the door behind them. They stood in a small circle and looked at each other. Then Holly broke the strain by coming up to her and twining her dainty arms around Chris's neck.

She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her tight little body against Chris. Her lips pursed softly. She brought them against the full, red mouth and kissed the teacher passionately, pushing her pointed, cone-shaped tits tightly against Chris's uptilted mounds.

Chris gasped. The little tongue came between her lips sensuously and twirled around hers. She could feel the sharpness of Holly's tits pushing against her nipples.

She felt the small, firm hips cupped by her own. She was aware of the way Jim was watching them. But he was not shocked. He didn't think them terrible beings, perverted things. His expression was warm and good and happy.

Holly made little sounds in the back of her throat as she kissed with increasing heat and passion. Chris wondered if Jim had taught her to kiss that way or if it was something instinctive in her.

She moaned tightly and then groaned with increasing fervor and wrapped her arms around the small back and pulled Holly against her and kissed back.

"Ohhhhh, Miss Poston . . . " Holly gasped finally, still hugging the woman. "I'm ready-I'm so ready!" She turned her head slightly and looked at her brother. "Jim, tell her you're ready too! Oh, let's hurry!"

Jim could only nod boyishly and lick his lips. His eyes shone. His prick bulged obviously in his pants. Chris looked at it and felt her pussy tremble with terrible eagerness.

"Oh, Jim," she said softly, smiling at him with lips that tingled from Holly's kiss and wouldn't quite hold still. "You're so shameless," she said.

He looked down at his crotch and tried to hide his growing erection. "I can't help it, Miss Poston," he said apologetically.

"Oh, don't try-don't even try to help it, Jim. I'm just as shameless as you. Even worse."

She moved from Holly's arms. She stood squarely before him and slowly lifted the hem of her dress. Jim's blue eyes went wide and bright as he watched the line of her trim thighs taper and flare to wonderful hips.

He saw the yellow slickness of her panties. He watched them come fully before his vision. He saw the snug way they fitted about her puffy pussy lips.

He could see the thin line of her gap, the shadow of her raven bush through them. And he saw the wetness, smeared and gleaming, all over the bottom of her crotch from where her pussy had been leaking.

Chris gazed steadily into his eyes, talking to him silently in that special way they had. She took his hand and turned it palm up. She placed it under her crotch and opened her thighs for him.

"See how shameless I am, Jim? See how I've been leaking all night for you? Aren't I terrible?"

"Oh, you're wonderful, Miss Poston!" he gasped softly and heatedly, unable to keep his fingers still.

He squeezed the puffiness of her wet cunt. He couldn't stop himself. This was something beyond his wildest dreams-to be with Miss Poston and feeling her pussy like this. To have a hard prick that she wanted inside her beautiful, slinky body.

To be ready to fuck and fuck her . . .

Holly came up beside them. She looked at their faces, gazing from one to the other of them. She recognized there was something silent passing between them that she wasn't quite a part of.

She took Miss Poston's hand and guided it. She placed it over the rigid stalk of Jim's cock and made the teacher feel her brother.

"Oh, God!" Jim gasped.

"Oh, Jim . . . " Chris said huskily. She glanced at Holly. The girl had put her hand up her dress and was feeling her own pussy.

"Not that way, Holly," Chris said.

She took Jim's other hand and put it on Holly's cunt. The three of them stood in a tight circle and felt each other, and it was a moment almost too beatuiful to break.

"Miss Poston . . . " Holly said, her voice small and questioning and pleading.

Chris put her arms around both of them and led them toward her bedroom. She'd planned all kinds of refreshments for them. She'd thought of all kinds of things to say to them. But now that the moment was here, there was no need for food or talk.

"Jim," she gasped in a husky whisper. "Take my dress off-hurry!"