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From: Eli the Bearded <usenet-tag@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
Subject: repost {Eli} "Teacher's Pet" [FF rape]
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[Posted for the guy writing female-perspective stuff discussion. Feel
free to tear into this.]

Archive-name: teachers-pet
Keywords: ff rape
Michael Handler's Review: 7: pathological
Ava Petit-Mountain's Review: 8: Eli visits Nabokov Land!

Warning: this is a rape story and some readers may wish to skip it.

[For a long time first person narratives of the maladjusted have
fascinated me. Especially important is the special case of a character
with very extreme problems (which the character does not recognize),
yet manages to get by without society noticing.

This particular story has as its largest influence Nabokov's _Lolita_,
although the story and situation here are much different.]

			Teacher's Pet

			    by Eli the Bearded

I told her to meet me that afternoon to discuss her flagging grades.
She had said "Yes, ma'am." She has such potential and I want to see
her go far. She has large doe eyes and a natural beauty far in excess
of my other students. I often wonder if her innocence is real or
feigned.

I am grading the endless papers when she raps three times on the door.
I turn in my chair to let her in. She greets me quietly and stands in
the door frame awkwardly. I admire the way her simple dress -- a polka
dot shift -- suggests her figure without revealing it as I pat a chair
to invite her in.

My knee brushes against her leg, just above her high socks, as she
lowers herself into the chair. Her skin is warm and soft I notice
before she pulls away.
  _________________________________________________________________

Years ago I remember meeting Mrs. Jacobs after class in the empty
school room. I was surprized to notice how tranquil the room was in
the early evening. She was the first woman I had had as a teacher.
Mrs. Jacobs showed us all so much more concern than we were used to
getting and it made us all love her.

As the sun sank low through the bare limbs of the trees outside, Mrs
Jacobs and I talked. I wanted to become a teacher seeing her example
and I was asking her advice. The lights were off for some reason that
first day for some reason neither of us turned them on as the reddish
light grew scarcer. Instead we moved our chairs so we would not block
the light and moved ourselves closer to each other.

The sun was setting with rich fiery hues when our hands met and held
each other. I still don't remember who made the first move. I do
remember the oddly fruity taste of her mouth that first day.

For the next several years, until I left for the teachers college in
fact, I would meet her after school. Sometimes it was several times a
week, other times we could go a month apart.

I remember finding her to have a rare beauty. Her body, while past its
prime, was nonetheless wonderful. It had grown old the way a pair of
slippers does, more comfortable with each passing year. Her small and
supple breasts modelled to shape of my mouth; the skin of her legs
playfully loose; belly full and soft to lean one's head upon; the gray
hair created a stunningly elegant appearance.
  _________________________________________________________________

In college I met Jasmine. At first I remember considering her large
breasts ungainly, her strange flexibility uncouth, and her mannerisms
immature. Over time these thoughts of her changed. Her chest became
sexy, the contortionist skills became enticing, and her childishness
refreshing.

Her insatiable curiosity and boundless energy led to much of my own
sexual experimentation. My first -- and last -- experience with a man
was in her company. The equipment was interesting but the performance
failed to impress. I sometimes think back and feel disgust, other
times pity.

Jasmine also lead me through my first masturbating to orgasm. Many a
time have I thanked her in my mind for having the disregard of taboo
to lead me past my inhibitions on that matter. It is certainly enough
to make me forgive her leaving to marry that guy Oswin.
  _________________________________________________________________

Jane looks nervously uncomfortable seated in front of me. "You wanted
to talk to me, Ms Ossi?"

The tremble in her voice throws waves of energy through me. "Please
call me Jill." I put down the red pen and shift in my seat to offer
her a better view of my breasts. "Yes, I wanted to let you know that I
would like to help you do better. I remember how helpful it was for me
to have a friend in the faculty when I was a student, and I thought I
could offer you similar assistance." I am not sure but I think I may
have over emphasized "assistance."

Her hands were in her lap on top of her notebook, but now she lifts
the binder up against her chest. With some trepidation she asks "How?"

I put my hand on her knee and rub my finger in circles to feel the
soft skin. "Oh, you know a friend can always offer extra help, arrange
favors, assuage doubt in ambiguous situations."

She stares mutely at me. I feel her body's tenseness. I roll my chair
closer. I hold her knee firmly to show my support in her obvious
emotional turmoil. With my other hand I pull her book aside and put it
on my desk. "Do you want my help?" I touch her neck gently and she
pulls away slightly but wordlessly.

I move closer to her and my sense of smell, always poor, finally
notices her perfume. I put my hand on her shoulder. She starts to say
something as I press my lips to her mouth. She tastes sweet like gum,
probably from gum. None of the students are allowed to chew it but
they all do. Her mouth feels so small as maneuver it. With one I arm
reach further around her and pull her close, the other I slide up her
leg to the hem of her dress. She puts her hands on my chest, pushing
slightly.

Abruptly I stop everything to pull her onto my lap. My nipples are
hard beneath her palms, I am wet beneath her weight. I hold her tight
to my chest and peck kisses around her face. I cup one of her breasts
and gently play. She has by now pushed my blouse further open and has
her hand pressed to my burning skin.

While I move my kisses further down her cheek and neck, my playing
drifts to her tense abdomen. I hear her whisper something, but all I
make out is "Oh." I don't know how long she has been doing it, but I
suddenly notice that her nails are cutting into skin. I feel ripples
of energy from between my legs, but I give myself no relief. Instead I
move my hand to Jane's crotch. I rub her hard through the polka dots
to keep my hand from reaching back to my own needs. I bite and suck
her breasts through the soft cloth. I reach under her dress, pushing
her legs apart, to get a better position to handle her needs. I push
apart her panties and a finger enters her warmth, her wetness. I rub
and push and squeeze and force the flesh as I know feels best. I push
my mouth back to hers and and feel her energy. I sense her plateau
approaching in her mouth. I slow slightly to prolong the sensation.

When she does orgasm she nearly bites my tongue but her teeth catch on
mine. I pull my mouth away and go to suck on her ear. A few more
strokes for her and my hand comes out to go for my own box. I am in
too much haste worry about my skirt, pushing the material instead into
my crotch. I am quite on edge and even these blunted strokes have me
quivering. It takes hardly a few moments before my orgasm hits me. I
relax my hold of Jane and she slides back slightly. I continue rubbing
to nurse my joy.

I open my eyes and see Jane has crossed her arms with her hands
tightly gripping her shoulders. I notice her eyes are wet as if she
were crying. I make one last slow pass with my hand over myself.

I reach for a tissue to dry her eyes. "The overflow of feelings can be
something the first time, can't it?"

She makes a quiet noise like a sob.

"Now, now don't worry, my dear," I offer as reassurance. "I want to
help you. I think you will do very well this year." I put my hand on
hers, covering the white knuckles. I squeeze gently, "You have nothing
to worry about."


Elijah
------
FEAR, Erotic, Angst, Rage

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