MY HISTORY TEACHER_(0)

MY HISTORY TEACHER

I’m sitting in my history class, listening to Mr. Markusen droning on about events leading up to the Civil War. It’s my first year here at the Clark School for Girls, a private school my parents sent me to, probably to keep me out of trouble. My name is Lori Travers, and I’m 14. I always sit in the front row in history class, because…well, because Mr. Markusen is bar none the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my life. He’s tall and tan and well-built, with an unruly shock of curly brown hair, and the deepest, most probing brown eyes in the world. All the girls are madly in love with him. They talk about fucking him every night in the dorm. I don’t know that much about sex, being a virgin, and I don’t understand everything the older girls say, but I know one thing: Mr. Markusen can have me any time he wants me. I’ll bet he could teach me about a lot of things besides history.

“Now girls, what legislation, passed in 1820, had a direct bearing on the lead-up to the Civil War? Anyone?”

Melanie Thompson raises her hand, and Mr. Markusen calls on her. “The Missouri Compromise?”

“That’s correct, Melanie,” he says, smiling.

Melanie beams back at him, basking in his approval. Melanie’s got the biggest boobs in our class, always straining against her white starched shirt. We all have to wear them, along with our pleated plaid skirts, white sox and tennis shoes. But we don’t all look like she does.

Mr. Markusen continues, boring us all to death. “The Missouri Compromise was an agreement between anti-slavery and pro-slavery factions in Congress, which determined which territories in the west would enter the union as slave states…”

There’s a game I play sometimes with him, trying to attract his attention. I like to see if I can kind of throw him off. At the moment, I’m sucking on the end of my pencil, my lips forming a tight little “O” around it. He glances over at me, and his eyes meet mine for a moment. I release the pencil, and sneak the tip of my tongue out to touch the end of it. I see his eyes widen just a little bit…I know he’s looking at my mouth. Maybe he’s thinking of my tongue caressing his cock. I hope he is.

I’m not really as pretty as some of the other girls. At least, I don’t think I am. I mean, I have braces, and I have to wear these clunky glasses, because my dad won’t spring for contact lenses. My dark hair is usually in a pony tail, or parted in the middle with two braids, like today. My breasts aren’t very big, at least not yet, but at least they’re firm, with little perky nipples. I guess I’m sort of cute, but not really sexy like Melanie. But still, Mr. Markusen seems to like me, and I like to tease him.

Slowly, as casually as I can, I part my legs, allowing him a glimpse of my white panties. His eyes linger for a moment, then look away quickly. I wonder what it’s like to be him, surrounded by a bevy of teenage girls, most of whom would love to fuck his brains out. I know Melanie would — she never stops talking about it. And he’s single, too. He must live near the campus, because I see him walking to and from class all the time.

My mind begins to wander. Most of my daydreams are about sex, and the talk in the dorm at night gives me lots to think about. I find myself staring at Mr. Markusen, wondering what his cock is like. Is it big? What would it feel like to have it in my mouth, or in my virginal pussy. Or even in my tight little ass. I’ve heard the girls talk about that, and a few of them say they’ve actually done it. The idea scares me, though.

Just the thought of being fucked in so many different ways makes me wet, and I squirm in my seat. I can feel my panties clinging to my pussy lips, rubbing against my little clit. God, I want him so bad! Without thinking, my hand slips downward, and before I even realize what I’m doing, I press the tip of my finger against my clit, through my panties. A powerful jolt of pleasure surges through me, and I moan softly. I look up, hoping that he didn’t see me, or hear me, but he’s back to his lecture.