Detention

One Friday in mid-May, I agreed to oversee after-school detention. It was a particularly hot day, I noticed even in the early morning. I wondered what Brandy would wear. Would she remain safe and dress conservatively as she usually did, or would she succumb to the heat and underdress? She'd already violated the dress code once on the day she'd gone braless. I anticipated her morning visit to my classroom but was disappointed when she didn't show up.

When I saw her during her regular class period, she was dressed in a long-sleeved sweatshirt with matching sweatpants, all loose and unflattering. It took me a few seconds to realize that the outfit wasn't her choice. I'd been right. Brandy must have been underdressed, violating the dress code, and had been forced to wear sweats over her surely scandalous outfit. I was doubly disappointed that day.

During the last few minutes of the final period, I received an email from Principal Mackie of the list of students who I was to supervise for after-school detention. There were only two names: Malory Kippe and Brandy Sherwood. Brandy had gotten her second and third strikes for being late to school and for her second dress code violation of the year, earning her an hour of detention.

Five minutes after the final bell, the two guilty girls were escorted to my classroom. As was the protocol for after-school detention, I collected both girls' cell phones, and told them they were to sit quietly and either do nothing or work on homework. Malory took a seat in the back of the room and immediately rested her head on her folded arms. Brandy sat in her normal seat near the front, pulled schoolwork out of her bag, and started to work.

In a minute, the room became noticeably warmer. Every day, to save money I suppose, the school's air conditioning would be shut off right after school everywhere except the gym. Brandy fidgeted uncomfortably for a couple of minutes before slapping her pencil down and coming up to me.

"Mr. Jameson," she said. "Can I take these sweats off? It's hot and I'm supposed to return them to the office at the end of the day anyway."

"Yes, of course," I said nonchalantly.

"Thank you," she said and walked to the back corner of the room, removing first the sweatshirt, exposing the entirety of her back as she inadvertently lifted the top underneath with the sweater. She removed her shoes and easily pushed her pants to the floor then sat to pull them off her feet. I watched her undress as if it was my right to, only realizing it was inappropriate when she was finished.

Brandy was wearing an outfit she should have known was inappropriate. She had on a white cropped T-shirt, seemingly cut with scissors barely three inches below her breasts. Her taut, teenaged tummy was on full display, a sheen of sweat visible on her lustrous skin. Far below her cute slit of a navel was a pair of very short, low-cut, stretch cotton dolphin shorts, navy blue with white stripes down the sides and white drawstrings. Her legs looked lean and long, glistening with moisturizer and sweat.

Brandy folded the grey cotton clothes she'd stripped off and came toward the front to deposit the stack onto my desk. I tried not to ogle but remained cool as I failed, smiling innocuously. I watched Brandy go back to her seat, the tight shorts sitting low on her, hugging her curvy hips and her compact but fat ass. She sat cross-legged at her desk and continued to work, her pretty, naked foot kicking gently with her cute little, pink-painted toes curling and wriggling.

Just looking at her sweaty body and having smelled her clean scent, I so wanted to take a nice, deep whiff of the clothes she had just set on my desk. I restrained myself, though.

After a couple more minutes, Brandy came to my desk again. "I forgot how to find the horizontal asymptote," she said. I explained it to her again, just as I had done in class, freely eating her sexy body up with my eyes. She noticed and nipped her lip, standing diffidently with her hip angles to one side and one arm behind her back holding the other at her side. Her small top and timid stance made her breasts look so full and very perky. When I finished my mini-lesson, she went back to her seat to work.

Brandy came up again, this time on my side of the desk, standing so close to me I could smell the mix of sweat and cocoa butter off her smooth skin. "So, if this exponent is bigger than this one, there is no asymptote?" she asked, unsure.

"No," I corrected, "that means the horizontal asymptote is Y equals zero."

Brandy squatted down with her golden-brown thighs pressed modestly together and set the paper on my desk. "So the graph should look like this?" She began to draw the graph, hovering over my lap, the scent and proximity of her sexy body making me hard.

"No, no, see," I said, causing Brandy to lean back some, "there's a vertical asymptote here, so the line can't-"

"Oh, right, right," she said quickly and rocked forward onto her knees to finish the graph. Her chin hovered right above my throbbing erection and for whatever reason, I didn't care if she noticed. I did get nervous that if someone else saw our position, I could be in some trouble. I nervously glanced toward the door through the small window into the hallway. I looked toward the back of the class where Malory was sound asleep. "Is that right?" Brandy said.

"Yup, that's correct," I said.

"Thanks, Mr. Jameson." Brandy smiled at me as she used my thigh to stand, just briefly glaring at me with flirtatious eyes before going back to her seat. Not even one minute later she was coming toward me again. I chuckled. She stood close to me, setting her paper in front of me. "Can you factor the denominator?" she asked.

"I don't know," I said. "Can you?" Brandy rolled her eyes but looked down at the paper and started to think.

"I have to use grouping?" she grumbled. I nodded. "I hate grouping."

"I know," I laughed. "But you're smart. You can do it." I placed an idle hand on her leg, just above the knee. Brandy looked down at me and smiled, a flash of timid desire sparkling in her eyes. She started to take her paper back to her desk and I said, "You might as well work at my desk if you're gonna keep coming back." My hand remained on her leg as she looked down at me with a questioning look. "Here," I said, rolling my chair back to give her room.

She stepped in front of me and bent at the waist to continue her work. Her perfectly rounded, plum-shaped ass was directly in my face, twelve inches in front of me. My heart was racing. I didn't expect her to do that! I wanted to move my chair away and give her room so the scene didn't look so lewd. But I also wanted to bury my face in the navy cotton between Brandy's ass and inhale the day's sweat from her. The two, disparate thoughts froze me and I sat there, ogling my student's bottom with a comforting hand on her right thigh.

"Is that right?" she asked and stood up upright, turning to the side to look down at me.

"Let's see," I said, rolling forward in my chair, essentially trapping Brandy between my knees and the desk. She surprised me by sitting on my right thigh. I checked her work, trying not to give tell that having a teenager sitting on my lap, looking delectable and smelling divine, was affecting me. "That is correct. Now you just have to graph it."

Brandy started to work again and I placed my hand on the small of her back, gently caressing her soft and clammy skin. I was terrified that someone would walk past my classroom and see us, or that Malory would wake up. But I was no longer thinking with the correct head, figuring that having Lola on my lap was preferable to keeping my job.

I leaned forward as she worked, pressing my body to her side and subtly nuzzling her soft, kinky hair. I inhaled, causing the girl to titter. "God, that smells good," I whispered. "What is that?"

"It's probably shea butter you're smelling," Brandy replied. "You like?" She turned to smile at me.

"It's amazing."

"Aww, thank you, Mr. Jameson," she cooed, then stared at me with a timid, contemplative expression for the span of a few seconds. Then she kissed me. Chastely, on the cheek. "You're so sweet." She snapped her head back around and continued to work.

I was stunned momentarily, but wholeheartedly took it as an invitation to do more. I caressed Brandy's back up and down, even going up her shirt where I found no bra strap, just soft, smooth, warm, and sweaty skin. I placed my left hand on her thigh and gently rubbed her. Brandy simply did her homework, audibly luxuriating in my treatment with shy sighs and mini shudders.

She asked me if she got the next one right, which she did, and she did a little dance on my knee, wriggling her hips in a circle and tossing her hands up in the air, giggling gaily. Deciding that I needed her to repeat that action more firmly in the center of my lap, I grabbed Brandy's slim waist and gently pulled her backward to sit directly on top of my hard cock. She startled when she felt my hard-on poke against her bottom but she didn't object. In fact, as she leaned forward to sketch her next graph, she subtly arched herself against it.

I told Brandy she got the final problem right. "Yay!" she exclaimed as she jounced on top of me, then gyrated her hips once again, this time right on my cock. "Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah!"

"You're such a cute little nerd," I chuckled, caressing my favorite student's petite thighs as she ground on me. I swear if she swiveled that soft, tumescent ass in my lap for a couple of minutes straight. I could have cum in my pants.

"You made me this way," she said, twisting around to smile at me. "Thank you for teaching me, Mr. Jameson." She hesitated for a second, then kissed me on the lips. For that brief second, I kissed her back.

"Just doing my job," I said easily, leaning back in my chair.

Brandy beamed a smile at me, then we stared at one another for a long time, desire growing into our facial expressions. We would've kissed again but Brandy got shy. "I should go sit at my desk," she said, looking around nervously. She had been playing cool but now I could hear her voice quivering and could feel her shaking slightly.

"No, it's okay if you sit with me, Lola," I said, holding Brandy by her waist to keep her put. "I'm enjoying your company." I was terrified too, having a lot to lose by our suggestive position. But the high stakes made it that much more tempting.

"I think I'm gonna get you in trouble, Mr. Jameson."

"Mm," I hummed, "please do. I like this kind of trouble. It's the best kind."

Brandy laughed. "You won't be saying that when we get caught."

She finally reclined against me, her back to my chest and her curly hair tickling the side of my face. I wrapped my arms around her petite body. "Do you like being a teacher?" she asked.

"It can be challenging at times," I said truthfully. "Students like you make it worthwhile, though."

Brandy giggled. "What? Bad girls like me who get sent to detention?"

"You're not a bad girl, Lola. You're a good girl who made a bad wardrobe decision. What made you think you would get away with wearing this anyway?"

"Well, I thought that the adults in the building would understand that it's a hundred frickin' degrees outside and cut me some slack. I even put these stupid bandaids on my nipples this time." She fingered the tips of her covered tits.

"Maybe next time wear a whole shirt," I quipped. "And some shorts that are at least a little bit bigger than panties."

"You like them," she said.

"That's probably the problem, Lola. I'm not supposed to like what I see from a sixteen-year-old girl. You've got me in a bad position here."

"What!?" she laughed. "It was you who put us in this position. But actually, I think this is a good position. A very good one." There was sure sensuality in her voice and she arched her booty into my groin one time.

"Lola," I said in a warning tone. You sound like someone who wants to get fucked, I thought and didn't say.

"I'm just kidding, Mr. Jameson. Relax."

And so I did relax, caressing Brandy in mostly safe places. I wasn't sure if I should touch her breasts or between her legs. I was already terrified, knowing I was profaning the youthful, sixteen-year-old girl enough without touching her private parts. Enjoying the feminine affections of a doting student was intoxicating, and it had a stabilizing effect on my jittery nerves. I was beginning to believe that there was nothing wrong with what I was doing. After all, how could something that feels so good and so comforting be wrong?

"Hey!" Brandy exclaimed abruptly, twisting to smile widely at me, "you wanna help me pick out my prom dress?"

"Umm, sure," I said curiously.

"Sweet! Give me my phone." I opened my desk drawer to retrieve Brandy's phone and she opened her gallery, rotating ninety degrees in my lap. "I have a few options to choose from. What do you think about this one?" She showed me a picture of her in a dressing room, wearing a muted pink, sequin dress. It was long and flowing but had large slits up both legs, displaying her delicious, chocolatey thighs. The bodice was strappy and lowcut, showing off bountiful cleavage and a flat tummy. She flipped through several pictures of her in the dress, striking pose after pose. When she sat, her thighs were completely naked up to the sides of her hips, the dress falling in a puddle of silk and sequin on the floor.

"That one's nice," I said. "A little sexy, isn't it?"

Brandy scoffed. "I don't think it's sexy enough. My mom picked out that dress."

"Okay," I smiled, "so it's a no for that one."

"Not necessarily," Brandy shrugged and started to swipe left, passing several other photos on her way to the next prospective prom dress. She lingered on a bathroom mirror selfie, in which she wore only a lacy burgundy bra and panties set. She gasped. "Don't look, Mr. Jameson. That's not for other people to see." Her tits swelled in their confines and her wet, tangled hair was ultra sexy.

"I'm not looking," I said, covering my eyes only after I had seared the mental image into my brain.

"Better not be," Brandy said coyly. "Look at this one." When I uncovered my eyes, Brandy was showing me another dress. This one was powder pink, almost nude-colored, A-line, very short and strappy with a plunging V between swollen breasts.

"Simple, cute, sexy enough," I said. "I like it."

"Me too," Brandy agreed and scrolled over a few more pics of her in the dress. I realized that the dress was alarmingly short while viewing a close-up photo of the lower portion of her body. In the next photo, Brandy lifted the little skirt about two inches in front, revealing the tip of her turquoise panties, sporting a coquettish grin. She gasped in mock shock, gazing at me wide-eyed and covering her mouth. "I forgot I took these!" She swiped again to a picture of her lifting the back of the dress and taking the selfie in the mirror. Her turquoise panties were bunched between her unbelievably round rump. "Oops," she said, continuing to scroll left. "Just...forget you saw that. That's just me being a weirdo."

On the way to her next set of prom dress photos, Brandy passed a series of lewd selfies. One where she'd just woken up, hair adorably messy against white sheets, sunlight striping her warm brown skin, nipples imprinting her tight, yellow cami top. Another was taken the same morning, Brandy laying on her tummy, capturing the swell of her naked ass over her shoulder, a cheeky grin on her lips. In the next, she lifted her top revealing her luscious breasts, her areolas wide, her nipples prominent. A variety of in-bed nude photos followed, in which Brandy was touching herself all over. I was sure she masturbated that morning.

Brandy paused for a second or so on every picture, saying, "Oops, oops, yikes! No. No. You're not supposed to show your teacher those. Sorry, Mr. Jameson." She passed a thumbnail of a video where she was in another dressing room, paused for a while, starting at me with a grin, and then swiped to the next image. "Now this is the dress I want to wear. My mom said 'hell, no.'" She giggled.

The dress was tight, white, short, and impossibly revealing. It was made of strips of fabric on either side of her body, narrowly held together at their ends by thin, gold ropes. The ties seemed to struggle to hold the fabric together and cover her precious skin. They pulled the strips taut but left so much space in between, leaving most of her breasts and tummy uncovered. Lower, the chasm offset to one side, leaving her waist, hip, and thigh mostly bare. I could see her panties, powder yellow cotton panties with red hearts all over and red lace trim. Such a slutty dress on a girl who wears such cute panties. My cock twitched beneath Brandy's ass.

"Lola," I scoffed, "you cannot wear this dress. Everyone would see your panties!"

"No," she said. "You're not supposed to wear panties with it. See?" She swiped...