The classroom was silent save for the rhythmic skritch-skritch-skritch of chalk against blackboard. The creeping late spring heat and the increasingly counterintuitive calculus concepts — not to mention the petite, milk-white body attached to the delicate hand writing out that calculus — all working in collusion to keep the students of Senior Calculus B too tired to goof off. The writing accelerated as the teacher broke the silence, “…which brings us back where we started, the integral of f-x-d-x.”
She placed the chalk down and turned to face the class, pausing quietly while tugging down the raw hem of your denim cutoffs. She looked out across the room, brushed aside a tuft of red hair that had fallen in front of her eyes, and watched as face after face went from an expression of confusion to one of understanding. A collective “Ohhh” made its way around the room.
She looked at the clock and saw some students start to pack up. “Wait!” She interrupted while adjusting the strap of her white tank top. “Even as we’re learning these last new concepts, you need to start reviewing everything you’ve worked on this semester. I’ve been making myself available twice a week after school and only one student has come to review.”
The bell rang and she said, “Don’t wait until the last minute, class dismissed,” as students zipped up their bags and started streaming out the door. A few stragglers remained as the silhouette of the principal filled the doorway. The teacher offerred her a nod of recognition as she started to erase the chalkboard.
“A word?” The principal asked.
The teacher watched as the last couple students walked into the hall, then stepped over and said, “Of course.”
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you,” Started the principal, “But I’ve noticed that you’ve started wearing tight shirts, tube tops, mini skirts, tiny shorts…” She trailed off.
“I’m not sure I understand.” The teacher replied, “It’s been over 80 degrees for the last week. Why wouldn’t I wear a little bit less? I’m sure no one complains about men when they wear sh…”
“Now, please don’t misunderstand.” The principal interrupted. “We are very open to our teachers wearing whatever they’re comfortable in. But for your own sake, I think you could be less distracting. For example, today, your butt is sticking out of the bottom of your shorts.”
“Oh, I…”
“Again, you’re not in trouble.” The principal started. “In fact, let’s make time tomorrow, I’d like to take you shopping. I think you’d be just as comfortable and fashionable in a nice set of bike shorts or even shorts similar to what you’re wearing now with a 2″ inseam and a cuffed hem.”
Not wishing to spend her only day off with the principal, she started to protest: “I would be no big deal for me to shop on my own because I’m sure you have other…”
“Sister Mary Roberts!” The principal interrupted firmly. “I must insist.”
The teacher took a step back at hearing her patron name. Even a couple students in the hall stopped their conversation and peeked inside.
“Sister Mary Roberts,” the principal continued more calmly, not wishing to cause a scene, “I want to reiterate that you’re not being punished, only that a second set of eyes could help you find clothes that are comfortable, body conscious, and tasteful.”
“Yes, Mother Superior.” The teacher acquiesced.
The principal smiled as though to say thank you and left the teacher alone for the last few minutes she needed to clean up and put back on her black and white nun’s habit, before returning to the adjoining monastery.
The rest of the evening proceeded without incident. The sisters completed afternoon chores, ate, and said evening prayers. Mother Superior could see that Sister Mary Roberts was a bit preoccupied, though she didn’t seem upset. She was certain that the novice would feel much happier with the guidance once she helped her put together several cute outfits.
For her part, Sister Mary Roberts was actually doing her best to reveal as little preoccupation as possible, because she certainly felt more than she let on. At last, she entered her cell, the tiny room she’d been assigned, and shut the door snugly behind her and hung up her habit.
She was left wearing the outfit that had started her trouble with Mother Superior, took one look at it in her old, body-length mirror, then slid off the shorts and peeled off the tank top exposing the soft, puffy nipples of her medium-sized bare breasts. She sighed and sat onto her bed, the mirror still in view.
She looked at herself — still obviously a woman once the accessories of her world were removed — then placed both hands at her collarbone and let them wander, first up to her neck, then gently down her body to her sensitive nipples, down to the few faint red hairs of her firm, lower stomach, along her side down to her hips, raising up her legs to grasp at the offending ass that Mother Superior so plainly noted was peeking out of her shorts. But at first touch of her panties, she noticed they were soaked. She turned toward the mirror and whispered harshly toward her reflection, “You dirty fucking slut!”
Her hand slipped under the fabric of her panties, over the neatly timmed red hairs of her pubic mound, to her slick labia and pushed two fingers with ease into her opening. Her head went back with pleasure. She tore off her soaked panties and looked into the mirror again, “You fucking slut, getting off on knowing that your getting every 18-year-old dick in that classroom hard for you!” She couldn’t help but sniff the panties deeply before setting them aside.
Still talking in a whisper, she had been just a bit louder that last time, but the idea that someone else was just a few feet away made her even hotter. With her class in mind and with one hand still fingering her pussy, she used the other hand to roll a nipple between two fingers, then shoved a single finger into her mouth.
She started massaging her clitoris, gasping while trying to hold back her moans. Only a short time later, that too became a losing battle as she started bucking her hips against her hand, until, without warning, her crotch was engulfed into an intense burst of pleasure — a hot pleasure that started at her crotch, but spread from there in waves over the rest of her body, up through her chest, her neck, until there was no helping it; she moaned passionately.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/qu0aud/having_to_speak_with_a_teacher_f_who_without