Thursday

I drain my cup of weak, tepid staffroom coffee and reluctantly lift myself off of the battered old couch just as the bell rings, signalling the end of the lunch break. Thursday afternoon. Shit! Fourth period. Fuck! A Level English Literature. I can already feel the anxiety build.

A group of twenty-five eager-to-learn eighteen-year-olds will be waiting for me in the classroom on the floor below. But that's not the reason why my hands are sweaty and my heart is hammering.

No, the reason for this anxiety is just one student. Leigh Matthews, an achingly pretty, very leggy, sinfully curvy eighteen-year-old senior. And she's been tormenting me for the last two school years. Ever since she transferred in from Queen Anne's to do her sixth form years here.

I knew this was going to be trouble right from the start. She's driving me completely and utterly insane.

She's beautiful. Possessed of long, impossibly shiny chestnut hair that hangs in a glossy straight waterfall down her back and over her shoulders. Mischievous hazel eyes that taunt and challenge me. They dare me to look as she crosses and recrosses her perfectly shaped, always pantyhose-clad legs.

Her lips are an artist's dream. Plump, pouting and shaped into a perfect Cupid's bow. God, to kiss those lips. To feel her tongue entwine with mine. When she absent-mindedly nibbles her pen lid, those lips turn upward into a wicked little smirk. Her eyes catch mine just long enough to let me know that I'm well and truly busted. "I made you look."

Her perky breasts fill her sweaters and tight tops exquisitely. Inevitably drawing my eye again and again as she feigns a yawn or makes a pretence of stretching her limbs. Her chest thrusting outward, her boobs straining against the fabric of whatever top she's wearing.

A silent dare. "C'mon, Miss Richards, touch me. You know you want to."

Yes, I do want to, and yes, technically I could. She's eighteen after all, no longer a child but a young woman. She can vote, she can buy alcohol, and she can certainly have sex. But I'm forty-two years old. I'm married. I have two kids of my own. Tom, who's fourteen, and Sian, who's not far off Leigh's age. But more importantly, I'm her teacher. I hold a position of trust. I can't abuse that.

Not that that seems to matter to some of my less caring, more garrulous male colleagues. Some of the comments bandied about the staffroom, many concerning the appearance and sexual allure of girls even younger than Leigh, honestly make my skin crawl.

And this would by no means be my first time with a woman, were I ever to accept her advances and hop into bed with her. My university days were a whirlwind of weed, booze and sexual experimentation.

But no, I'm married; I'm a teacher. And I must behave.

All this despite the post-it note I found discreetly attached inside a five-page essay on Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice last year. Her phone number and just two words, 'Text me', followed by a kiss and a smiley face.

I've still got it. I can feel it burning in my messenger bag. I've lost count of the times I've pulled my phone out and begun to tap a message, only to hastily throw it aside.

Who am I kidding? I want her. I want to kiss her. I want to taste every inch of her. I want to see her sweat-soaked, panting for breath, her hair spread out over my pillows. But I can't. I can't! Can I?

______________________

Today's lesson is just revision and review; exams aren't far away, so it should be a reasonably calm affair. I take a deep breath and enter the classroom.

Sure enough, there she is. Front and centre, managing to look both comfortable and utterly sexy at the same time. Even though she's perched on one of those awful chairs with what claims to be a desk attached to it.

She smiles at me as I enter. The tip of her tongue running slowly along her top lip. I feel my breath catch along with that unmistakable twitch in my knickers. I can't help but smile back. Fuck! Busted again. The power dynamic here is most definitely skewed in her favour.

I settle behind my own desk and give the class the usual spiel.

"Ok people, finals aren't long now. Today's period is purely for you to review your work prior to submission and revision for the written exam. In a break from school policy, I will allow you to pop in your earbuds today. Come and see me or put your hand up if you need me."

A quiet chorus of "yesss" or "nice one, Miss" goes around the room as the kids reach for their phones and earbuds.

The classroom settles into a studious silence.

I can feel eyes on me. Her eyes. Boring into me. Involuntarily I look up. Thankfully the rest of the class are actually following the lesson brief. They're all engrossed in their work and their music, and they don't witness our eyes meet.

She smirks and makes a downward motion with her pen. My eyes automatically follow, just in time to see Leigh's black nyloned thighs drift apart. I'm afforded an access-all-areas view of her legs and the flash of bright pink knickers under her tights, stretched tautly over the delectable bulge of her mons.

My breath quickens, my mouth waters and my pussy throbs. I can't do this anymore. Fuck my life!

Fuck it, she wins! I finally admit to myself that I'm defeated. I'll text her tonight.

"Miss Richards," Leigh raises her hand to refocus my attention. It's almost as if she can sense that she's finally broken my will to resist.

"Y…yes, Leigh, what's up?" I just about manage to stammer.

"Could you read over this essay passage, please? I'm not sure it reads right."

"Sure, want to bring it up and I'll take a look."

She flows off of her seat and walks to my desk, stepping around to my side of it. She places her essay in front of me and makes a point of leaning over the desk as if to read it with me. I'm surprised to see a sheet of blank paper on top of her work.

I look around nervously. Nobody pays us any heed. Her right thigh is pressing against my left shoulder.

She takes a pen and writes on the blank sheet, "Are you ever going to get the hint?"

I write back, "I got it loud and clear."

"Are we ever going to fuck?"

"I'm married and your teacher."

"So?"

I'm still fighting, but it's a lost cause. "I just can't," I respond lamely.

With the class all wearing earbuds or headphones, Leigh decides to go verbal.

"Please Miss Richards, Bethany, touch me," she whispers. Her hips sway gently; her thigh rubs up against my left arm.

The last of my resolve crumbles. I surrender.

"You can't tell anyone....ever," I whisper back, my left arm dropping down behind her as if to give her more room.

I'm rewarded with a soft, barely audible moan as I slide my left arm behind her, dropping my hand low to gently trail my fingers up and down her silky smooth leg.

The line has been crossed; I'm finally giving in to her. I'm touching a student. It's been so long since I touched another woman, and my own body responds. I'm suddenly very aware of my own knickers, clinging to my rapidly wetting pussy, feeling a half size too tight. My hand glides gently up and down her exquisite leg, revelling in the swell of her calf, the silky smooth feel of her tights.

She scooches down a little, and my hand travels further north than I intend, feeling the gloriously fleshy part of her inner thigh. I can feel her body heat radiate along the side of my hand.

"Fuck!" She hisses through clenched teeth.

I'm aching to slip my hand right up her skirt. To squeeze and fondle her bum. To run my fingertips over her pussy. But I daren't, not here.

I'm worried that if we continue, we'll attract undue attention, so I call a halt to this madness.

"That looks great, Leigh," I tell her as I write, "back to your desk now. I'll text you later.'

"Thanks, Miss Richards," she says in a sultry tone that's way beyond her years.

She slides back into her seat and gives me a sly wink.

______________________

Friday

6.30am. The alarm buzzes angrily, forcing me awake. As I groggily come to, my mind slips back to the previous evening.

Luckily there'd been some kind of sport on the television, so my husband Matt and Tom had been engrossed in that. Sian, like any teen girl, had vanished into the black hole of her bedroom for the evening.

So, under the age-old guise of "messing around on Facebook", I muted my alerts and sent Leigh a message.

It had all started out reasonably innocently, but it soon descended into a delicious exchange of dirty talk and sexual fantasy. It was hot, it was filthy, and I'd loved every second of it.

After around an hour of torturing each other with promises of what we'd do to each other, she sent me the clincher.

'I think I should bunk off tomorrow. Can you call in sick?'

Closely followed by a lewd selfie. She was straddling a pillow (every girl's first sex toy...right?). Leant back to show me everything. Pink knickers pulled to one side, a darling tuft of dark hair adorning the top of her slit. Her lips, pouting invitingly, glistened and shone in the light from the camera flash.

"I think I can do that," I tapped back.

"Mum won't be here ;)"

"I know xxxx."

"Be here at 10.00 xxxx ni ni xxx."

7.00am and I've told Matt and the kids that I'm not feeling too well and that I'm taking the day off. I almost feel guilty accepting their sympathy along with a cup of coffee and two slices of toast delivered to me in bed.

By 8.00 the house is empty, giving me enough time alone for a bath and some personal maintenance. Every inch of me is scrubbed clean and shaved smooth. Not too much makeup. Just in case I get seen on the way to Leigh's. I'm supposed to be ill after all.

I root around in my underwear drawer and select a set that I bought on a whim a few months ago. Matt hasn't even seen it, let alone had the honour of peeling it off. Chocolate brown silk, trimmed in cream lace. The knickers, if you can call them that, are miniscule. My mind is already imagining how Leigh will remove them as I slide them up my legs.

_________________

I park the car on the street fifty yards or so from Leigh's house. A modest two-bedroom terrace that she shares with her mother. I'm shaking. I'm nervous. I'm excited. I'm a powder keg with a lit fuse, ready to blow.

10.00am. Bang on time and I'm knocking on Leigh's front door. God, I hope there are no nosey neighbours; this won't look good at all.

The door swings open as if by magic and I warily step inside.

I turn around as I hear it close behind me. And there she is, leaning her back against it. She looks nothing short of amazing.

She's wearing a thigh-length black satin robe, belted at her trim little waist, and what I'm assuming are her usual black tights. Her hair flows down over one shoulder, drawing the eye to the swell of her breast. Her makeup is dark and alluring. Her mouth is turned up into a beautiful, radiant smile.

"Hi Beth," she whispers breathily. "I was worried you wouldn't come."

I move towards her, raising my hand to gently stroke her cheek. "I couldn't wait any more; it's just…"

"I know, it's Mum," she finishes for me.

"She's my headteacher, Leigh; she's my boss."

"And your best mate too," she laughs.

"She'll fucking kill me if she ever finds..."

I don't get a chance to finish my sentence as Leigh stops me with a kiss. Her hand slides behind my head, pulling me close and crushing her mouth to mine.

Two years of blatantly trying to seduce me. Two years of me denying to myself that I fancy her just as much despite our age gap. It all gets poured into this first, desperate, long-awaited kiss.

Her tongue finds its way into my mouth and lazily, sensually tangles with my own while my hands tug at the loose bow holding her robe closed. I'm aching to feel her bare skin under my fingers. Her robe falls open, and a moan escapes me as I discover she's naked underneath. No bra, no knickers. I manage to glance down to find that she's not wearing tights after all. Her legs are encased in sexy, sheeny black hold-ups.

She pushes me urgently against the wall of the narrow hallway, kissing me with a fervour I never dreamed possible. She wrenches at the button fly of my jeans as I cup and squeeze her naked breast, rolling my thumb over her stiffened nipple. This elicits a hiss of appreciation from my young lover.

My shirt somehow disappears, and I feel my jeans being pushed down over my hips and thighs. I kick my sneakers away, clearing any hindrance to Leigh's progress.

"Fuck, I was hoping you'd wear these undies," she moans into my mouth.

(I'd actually bought this set while Donna, Leigh's mum, and I were out on a Saturday shopping spree with our daughters.)

She slinks to her knees, kissing my tummy, my hips, and my thighs while she finishes removing my jeans. I've never felt so wanted, so...desired.

"Take them off me, Leigh, please," I plead. I'm already wet. I can feel the flimsy silk clinging to my sodden pussy, which is already screaming for attention.

She lifts herself to her pretty nyloned feet as I push my jeans away with my foot.

"Not yet," she purrs in my ear before claiming my mouth again. It's her mouth now; she can have me. All of me.

I let my hand drift down her perfect tummy, my palm resting on her mound as I caress her sex. She's already soaking. I can feel her slick, silky wetness glossing my hand.

She rocks her hips urgently into my hand, her exquisite pussy slip-sliding on my fingers as I massage her in slow circles. My palm rolls over her clit, her rocking motion urging my fingertips just inside of her. Her panting and gasping tell me that I haven't lost my touch.

"Je...Jesus Christ," she whimpers around a drooling, slack-mouthed kiss. "Up...upstairs...please."

She releases me and turns to climb the stairs. Her backside looks utterly scrumptious, swaying up the stairs ahead of me. I want her now. I'm done with boring conventional 'married' sex. Missionary position at 7.30am on a Saturday before a MaccyD's breakfast. I want her this second.

I run a hand up the back of her thigh, making her jump.

"Sit at the top," I ask of her. Which she does, rather obediently.

From two steps below, I push her knees apart and take a moment to admire her. Her perfect, pink-lipped pussy glistening. Her wet inner thighs, moisture gathering at her stocking tops. She may be in charge, but this second she's all fucking mine.

"You ready?" I manage to croak. My own voice is alien to me, thick with arousal. She nods. Her chest heaving, her eyes wide in anticipation.

"Beth," she can barely say my name. "Please."

I breathe her in. Fuck me, I've missed that scent. That thick, sweet, musky scent of an aroused woman. It's been way too fucking long.

She lifts her toes onto my shoulders and leans back as I take a long, upward, flat-tongued swipe from her 'showroom condition' rosebud to her clit. Savouring her sharp intake of breath before I bathe her pussy with easy long strokes. I alternate my techniques from licking up, down and around her lust-swollen folds to indulging her cunt in long, lusty French kisses.

Her toes curl, gripping my shoulders. I feel that wonderful mix of pain and pleasure as she grabs a fistful of my own red hair, yanking me to where she wants me. She guides my head, wanting my tongue to lap and lash at her clit. Blue touch paper ignited.

I curl two fingers into her. She's no virgin, I know, but she's gloriously fucking tight. Her pussy clenching, grabbing at my digits. Her breath is ragged now, sucking air in massive lungfuls between pants. She's beginning to shake. I feel that telltale tremble in her thigh. See the ripple in her abdomen. I worry at her sponge with my fingertips. That fuse is almost done.

She's so fucking wet; I extend my pinky to stroke a wet circuit around her arse.

"N...no...B...Beth, not…mmmfuck...there."

I ignore her plea and raise my eyes to meet hers. She's wild-eyed, her mouth slack. Click, mental image saved for later. I pull her engorged clit gently between my lips as my pinky slides neatly into her tight little tush. Almost like they were made for each other. 3...2...1

My fingers rub together through the gossamer membrane; my fingertips press firmly on her G-spot. And BOOM!! Fire in the hole!!!

She mewls, a long, gut-wrenching cry that could be my name or could just be release. Her body stiffens, locked in spasm. Her pussy clamps down tight, and she grabs my hair again and doubles over as her body is well and truly wracked by her climax. Her toes grip my shoulders, her thighs quiver...and I am in total awe of my teen lover.

I've never before witnessed a woman cum so beautifully. It truly borders on the religious.

____________________

2.00pm and I finally get my wish, albeit in her bed, not mine. She's sweat-drenched, as am I. Her skin is flushed, her holdups are laddered to hell and we're both breathless. She looks utterly gorgeous.

For my part, Leigh has quite literally screwed the living daylights out of me. Two years of wanting, compressed into nigh on four hours of nonstop, at times disgustingly depraved sex. I neither know nor want to know where she honed her skills, but the teacher in me mentally gives her previous partner an A++.I know I'll be on shaky legs when I try to get up. Oh well, at least I'll look suitably ill when everybody gets home, I guess.

I have no idea where my undies are. Lost in the melee after Leigh practically dragged me into her bedroom and tore them off of me.

Damn, I'd kill for a glass of wine and a cigarette right now, but I haven't smoked since I fell pregnant with Sian.

I lean over to kiss her. "We'd better get your sheets in the wash before I go," I advise. "Just tell your mum you got sweaty and decided to change them."

"I better shower too," she chuckled. "I bet I reek of pussy now." She does; I just want to lick her all over.

"She thinks there's a bug going around the school too. She said you weren't feeling well either when I called in sick."

I make a move to get out of bed. We have to be sorted, and I need to be gone before school kicks out, but Leigh pulls me back in.

"I can't wait to fuck you in Greece," she whispers in that sultry tone before giving me one last kiss.

Fuck! Fuck shit. Not only have I just had sex with a student. Much less fucked my boss's daughter and been royally ruined by my best friend's daughter in the process. I've actually forgotten that when Matt and Tom go off to some sports event for a week next month, we four girls, Donna, Leigh, Sian and myself are off to Corfu. A girly holiday in the sun.

This could be very, very awkward. Or it could be the holiday of a lifetime. Rest assured, I'll keep you all posted.