Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. ****I tend to follow more stories than write, I have little experience and plan on extending my abilities into a more constructive and imaginable world. Please remember I do not condone anything in this story in reality, and refuse to take part in anything involving reality. This is simply a story, purely fictional. I have written out when I was younger and have recently discovered. In time I hope to do this erotica writing some justice.**** THIS IS MY FIRST ATTEMPT AT UPLOADING, I AM HOPING I'VE DONE IT RIGHT. ----------------------------------------~x~-------------------------------- -------- Sitting in an empty classroom is a man with ash grey and black wavy hair. Even though he manages his shaving routine every morning, he still has a five o'clock shadow by ten. His wife Anabella has been urging him to update his razors and get the five blades like every other modern man. In a green vest, blue checkered tie and brown croideroy pants is Mr.Christian. He is kind in every possible way, polite, and respectfully territorial. He keeps his students papers neatly stacked in their catagories and his own papers and notebooks in an obsessivly order in front of him with a ruler above the notebook and a blue ballpoint on his left. Ridley Christian tapped his desktop in a dense rythm, the school had a pep ralley and instead of unwinding with the rest of the teachers and students, he sat in his classroom awaiting the final bell. He had been typing out sexual letters recently and had the current one playing in his mind. In his story: A young girl, with grey-green wide eyes, her blonde hair like hemlock wood and a naturally puckered pouty lips. She lay sprawled in the asile of desks with her legs wide and kicking as her hips bucked up against him as he dropped down in a hard body slamming fuck. His eyes rolled shut, his cock bulges as he imagines the girls pussy clenching and releasing. This particular letter had been printed out, he recently had been printing every story; cause the story and stories he had been writing involved a young girl, Clover. Clover is a sweet young girl, always dressing in frilly, floral skirts and satin blouses that hugged her supple curves delicatly. Mr.Christian opened his brown eyes, hunger filled as he stared at the letter planted between her math textbook. He had been recently leaving them for her, the first letter was in her locker, it involved a romantic first time lit by candle and an all night romp. His second story involved fellatio, and so on and so forth. Her friends had no sign of knowledge, normally a kid with this sort of erotica would share it and laugh about it with her friend. Not Clover, he would watch her look for the letter each morning now. The bell rings in a gentle hum, a few minutes the hallways fill with a clamor of students laughing, talking, shouting and hooting. Eventually the students find their way to the classrooms and in Mr.Christian's, each of them sitting in their individual desks, which Mr.Christian aligns every mornning almost to a perfection. Clover and a group of girls are the last to enter, his favorite girl was soaking wet; her hair was wavy and loose, her blouse in her hands as she stood in a damp pleated skirt and her white satin camisole clinging to her body. Her nipples poked through her perfectly cupped tear drop tits, she looked to be a 36D. She wasn't wearing a bra, anyone could see the round of her rosey nipples, she must have caught Mr.Christian before he could look away cause she shot a glare across the classroom. Her childlike whine filled the walls, "My mom is going to kill all of you, cause ONE of THEM ripped my BRA!" She held up a floral patterened sheer, laced bra with the straps ripped and the back torn. "Do you have any idea how much these cost?!" She had a fierce stare, as her grey-green orbs stared down every boy with a stern gaze, Mr.Christian rose his brows, demanding the class to pipe down and told Clover to take her place. Normally she would be weaving through her desk for the letter, but she had been too distracted by her anger to even care this time, which disturbed him greatly, he liked watching her read his letter, knowing his words filled up that sweet little mind of hers. Instead of English, he lifted the textbook in which he usually keeps in order of his teaching, but to get Clover to open her mathbook, he put the English book beneath the pile and ordered the class to open up their math textbooks. He paused for a moment, Clover had not been listening, she sat fuming in space. One of the students looked around, then rose his hand to ask which page. Mr.Christian didn't respond, instead he addressed Clover in a stern tone, "Open up your math book, Clover." She rolls her eyes and realizes everyone is staring at her as the teacher waited, finally after she opens to find his letter, Mr.Christian pipes up, "To 368, where we left off last will not be on next weeks test but this will be, please go through and show your work, don't just write down the answer. Calculaters can give you an answer, but where's the work to it? I want this chapter filled out, you have the whole day." The class groaned, typically Mr.Christian would give thirty minutes to each lesson but there was going to be a quiz next week and he wanted them to be prepared as possible. He looked at Clover, she held the folded letter in her grip and rose her hand. She still had an anger in her eyes, which caused Mr.Christian to stammer, "Mi-M-Miss Pink-Pinkman?" "I am soaking wet, Mr.Christian, can I be excused for awhile?" "Thirty minutes, I think the towels are being folded, you might have to go down to laundry first, Ask Mrs.Wells if she can dry your clothes and use your gym strip for the time being." She nods and takes her leave with such a commotion, the papers flailed on the desks behind her. Two of the boys looked at each other after she passed and one motioned two hands over his own chest indicating with motion the movement of her breasts. As glorious as they were right, the teacher cleared his throat to catch their attention and gave them a warning glare. As time ticked on, Mr.Christian counted each passing minute, she could be out there with another teacher. He closed his eyes and gave a mental facepalm, she probably gave the letter to one of the secretaries, they can lead back to when the file was printed or something like that. Any gizmo these days come with a built in tracker, he thought, and began to worry as he reached twenty minutes. The students were silent, papers were echoing as they flapped to the next page, and some students would sigh greatly, as if it were the hardest job in the world to lift an eraser up and correct their work. The teacher nods to the assistant when she walks in, "Ms.Porter, would you mind tending to this class? I have to check on something." The teacher agrees and from what I've heard is the Medusa of all teachers and assistants. The class won't dare slack, now. Mr.Christian steals away swiftly, he sneaks past the office, glancing in to see if Clover had been inside, crying and showing the letter to the principle or worse, sitting in a chair surrounded by cops. However, she wasn't in there. He makes his way down the stairs, pass the gym and into the laundry room where Mrs.Wells had been folding the gym strips and linen. He asked if she had seen any of his students, and she shook her head, "You haven't lost any of them, have you?" She shook her head assuming the worse, "You have got to come down HARD on these kids. Otherwise they will keep coming hard on you, walking all over you and treating you like a servent. I should know." Mrs.Wells had been a tired woman, almost anything was a controversy to her and she managed to scold the kids about their hygiene habits almost every day. The teacher excuses himself, and figures Clover has gone home instead, he crosses the gym and through the dark and empty gymnasiam he spots a slit of light coming from the end of the room. Glancing from side to side, everyone in the school knows the gym is the blindspot to security. Which is why most people hide out there during school. The teacher opens the gym door, which slowly closes behind him after he steps through, he looks into the darkness, making a figure of a couple on the back of the bleachers. He walked through quietly, just before he spoke to the couple making out on the bleachers, he heard a cry from the end of the gym. The couple didn't look up, they weren't even bothered, not even as his footfalls quickens down the gym and through the entrance of the girls changing room. He heard something like sniffling, and a little whimper. He edged around the corner, this had been the first time he had seen the girls room, but everything was nearly exactly the same. The benches lined in front of an open cupboard. Gym strips filled the hangers and each of them with assigned covers. There was the sound of that sniffle echoing the room, it was large, and with salmon pink carpets that lead to the washroom stalls. Underneath, there were a pair of bare feet, Mr.Christian made his way over to the door, he had no idea what he was doing, he just wanted to see if this was Clover. He crept into the stall next to hers, slowly stepping up onto the toilet, and his heart drowning out any other noise. He saw the top of Clover's head, she had the letter crinkled in her right hand, at first he thought she was crying. He immediately felt ill to the stomach for invading this girls privacy. Just before he pulled back, Clover leaned back, fully naked and revealed her other hand working her clit. That sniffle like sound was her sucking the air between her teeth, she arched her back and rolled her hips in a circular motion while rubbing her pussy. She let out a little moan and her right hand crinkled the paper over her right tit. She gasped and opened her mouth wide, her eyes were shut. Mr.Christian paused in a crouch, listening to her moan softly, listening to the crinkle of the paper, his letter...HIS LETTER! He poked up over the divider again and saw her rubbing her clit faster, the letter being clenched tight against her pussy beneath her other hand. Mr.Christian pulled his cock free and started stroking as he watched his favorite girl rubbing her pussy with his letter being rubbed all over her small and lean, hard, little body. "Oh yeah," she whined softly, and moaned, "hard, big, oh, big hard cock" she immediately uttering the word cock and slid three fingers inside herself. The letter became the clit rubbing hand and she started sliding her other fingers in and out of her slippery little cunt. She leaned her back against the wall, her tits jiggling around as she rubbed herself vigorously. Mr.Christian stroked hard, imagining the width of her small little fuck hole tightening around his cock. She looked small from where he stood, she spread her legs and set her feet on either side of the aluminum dividers and started rocking her hips fast, which caused her tits to bounce around. She kept moaning and the slapping of her pussy began to echo through the room, she panted and moaned and his breath became heavier as he stroked his cock tighter, faster and harder. The noises he made were easily mistaken as her own as she kept her eyes shut. Mr.Christian's knees nearly buckled when her eyes rolled open and shut again, she didn't see him, she was in a state of pure bliss as she rocked her hips in circles which were slowly getting wider and wider as her fingers slipped deeper into her pussy. She slipped in the last two and went nearly knuckle deep. She let out a deep throated moan that faded into a whimper. The teacher sighed and stroked, longing to step off the toilet and into her stall just to fuck her tight little pussy. They were close to cumming, she took faster strokes with her clit and could only wiggle her arm around, he stroked his cock while clinging onto the ledge of the divider. "Yes, yes-yea-ah-ah-ahh!" her body trembled and tremored as she took a deep breath and held back a moan in the back of her throat, "ungh-ungh-ung" her eyes looked straight up, but she wasn't looking anywhere else, it was like she was staring into space. Mr.Christian leaned back and stroked as he heard her feet pressing against the walls, the alumanum caving with the pressure and a soft hiss which splashed onto the floor. She was squirting. He stroked his last few and shot long streams of cum onto the stall door across from him. "OHHH DADDY!" She whined in a little girl voice, and whimpered over and over, "daddy, daddyy, oh" more hissing and splashing as she squirted more. Mr.Christian's mind swirled as he shot load after load, listening to her cry out for her daddy as she continued cumming.