It seems your hard-on did not go unnoticed by the attractive young teen, as she blushes and pushes away from you awkwardly, looking up at you with wide eyes. "Mister.... Mister ..."
Your mind reels as you try to salvage the situation. "I ... I'm sorry, Sarah, I didn't mean anything." You lean forward to comfort her, but rock back after thinking better of it. If she thought you were coming onto her, it would cost you your job.
"No, it's not that, it's just..." she looks pensively at you, stepping forward, ".. do you really like them? ... my breasts, I mean."
"What?" you say, scarcely believing your ears, "Who could n--I mean, I think they make you look very attractive and ... mature."
"You think so?" Sarah blinks, jutting her chest out slightly, so her great breasts pressed against the fabric of her uniform. "My mother wants to get them reduced... she thinks I look like a... well, slut."
"That's a horrible thing for a mother to think about her daughter." you reply, both out of earnest anger at this notion, and out of a suppressed desire to get closer to your student.
Sarah smiles at you, obviously relieved by your support. "Thank you, Mr. , that means a lot to me." She then averts her eyes, blushing again as she shuffles her feet. "Mr. , um... do you consider me ... more attractive than ... the cheerleaders? Ashley and Amanda?"
The girl's bashful position stirs something inside of you, and you step forward to put a hand on her shoulder. "They're not even in the same class as you, Sarah. They are girls, and you... you are a woman."
Smiling softly, Sarah looks you in the eye for a moment before stepping away. "Would you... would you like to touch them?" She looks up at you again, blushing as she moves her hands to unbutton her school jacket, revealing the white blouse underneath, pulled taunt by her large breasts. The outline of her bra is clearly visible against the fabric, and the tightness accentuates almost the entirety of the curve. "You can ... just through my shirt ..." She blushes hotly, but stands her ground.
You can scarcely believe your luck, as you start to approach the girl, but rein yourself in. You take a seat in your office chair, then bid her to come forward. "Sit on my lap, Sarah."
"I..." Sarah pauses, before nodding and moving towards you, taking a seat on your lap, her back pressing against your chest as her long, straight dark brown hair cascades over one of your shoulders. Her firm rear presses against your hard cock, already straining against its confinements. "Oh! Mr. !"
"Please, call me ," you say, wrapping your arms around her to grasp her tits with your hands, clutching the warm mounds firmly before starting to knead them softly, listening to Sarah gasp in pleasure. "We're both adults here, after all."
"Yes, ... oooh ..." Sarah groans, arching her back slightly to press her bosom against your probing hands. You continue to knead her breasts softly, savoring the feeling of the soft, yet firm flesh yielding under your grasp, the stiffening nipples creating dim bumps in the surface of her blouse through her bra. You adjust your grip to rub your fingers down against them through the material, feeling the shiver run through her body. She crosses her legs, her thighs rubbing together as her legs twitch, causing her rear to slide against your concealed erection, causing your cock to harden even more. Her hands clench the armrests of your chair tightly, and her groans become throatier as you fondle her. By the sound of it, she is probably starting to grow wet, so do you take it a step up, or do you bide your time?
|