I'm a recent college graduate moving back home to save money. Like most 24-year-olds these days, money is tight and my bachelor's degree in biology probably isn't even enough to land me an interview for an entry level position that 10 years ago would have barely required an associates degree. Not even dressing a bit on the sexier side is enough to cut through the long list of overqualified and hungry people with advanced degrees these days.

I have always been nerdy and into the sciences, so biology seemed like a great fit. You could probably even categorize me as a bit of a sex nerd, albeit one that was a bit repressed, not because of upbringing, but due to shyness. Coming back to my hometown brings back a flood of memories, most of them good. High school was surprisingly okay. Most of the kids that I knew had grand ambitions to move out and go to some school 4 states away moved back home by the end of the first semester. Unlike most of my classmates, I stayed in the region and avoided wracking up a shit ton of debt by living with my aunt Rita.

In hindsight, I actually really enjoyed high school. Well, at least the studying part. My junior year of high school, I took honors chemistry with Mr. Williams, as did many of the other college-bound students. He was one of those surprisingly laid-back teachers, so we usually just called him Mr. W; he probably would not have cared if we just called him by his first name (Jim) but that was probably a little too much for the 1990s. Mr. W was tall and handsome, a bit buttoned up despite his profession, or perhaps because of it. He always had a perfectly trimmed beard, nothing crazy. He had this really gentle daddy dom vibe that made my knees tremble a bit. You probably know the sort. Other girls tried to flirt with him relentlessly but he shrugged it off by being clueless. I'm sure he knew what was going on but didn't want to hurt anyone's feeling or get locked up for being some sort of predator. I found that this gave him a really respectable aura which honestly made me want him even more. He was in his mid-30s and had this amazing auburn hair; it looked so soft that the compulsion to touch it was too much at times.

Mr. W was pretty hardcore as a teacher. It was clearly a lifestyle for him. Any time that I would show up to school early, you'd always see him at his desk, grading, writing, or tinkering. He was really into his subject and presented everything with such a high degree of zeal. I never figured myself as the kinda girl that would get hot and bothered listening to someone talk about molecules. Despite demanding a lot, he was always kind and never belittling with struggling students. That didn't stop him from poking fun when we failed to do the most basic of math, but we could always tell that it was in good fun and meant to disarm us and make us feel comfortable. I'd say the feeling comfortable bit worked a little too well. It was often so arousing sitting there, listening to him get excited about atoms and reactions and whatever, as my panties would get soaked as I tried to absorb the information. I honestly just sat there sometimes wishing that he would disarm me of my panties and have his way with me right there in the classroom. This type of constant daydreaming about Mr. W while I was in his class probably didn't make me the best of students, due in no part due to my level of distraction.

Of course, nothing ever happened with Mr. W while I was in school. He was married, as evidenced by the wedding band on his finger and picture of his wife on his desk (which, in hindsight, I suspect was there to ward off thirsty jailbait from straying too close to the sun). Besides, who'd want to get him into trouble anyway? Slather on top of that the fact that I was incredibly shy when it came to boys, let alone grown ass men. Besides, Mr. W was someone that I actually wanted to impress, so that scratched away any notion of me flirting with him let alone making a move.

Inevitably, I moved on to senior year, graduated, and went on to university. I chose to major in biology which naturally involved me taking quite a lot of chemistry. I remember sitting in some of my lectures wishing that Mr. W were the instructor. Not only was he incredibly handsome and would have been a visual upgrade, but because he honestly would have been better at teaching the material. I somehow managed to graduate with a decent GPA which didn't leave much time for shenanigans. I hooked up with a few guys (and one devilishly hot girl), but nothing ever seemed to go anywhere. Probably for the best.

Anyway, it's been about two weeks after finishing my final university exams and I stopped by my old high school at my mother's behest to drop a book off that my old history teacher had lent my dad before he died. Some random book on explorers of Asia or some such obtuse topic. On my way out the door, I ran into Mr. W in the hall and we innocently chatted for a few minutes. I couldn't help but notice his lack of wedding band. This piqued my interest to say the least. After some quick catching up, he invited me back to his classroom if I wanted to keep talking. It seemed innocent enough. I got the feeling that he was desperate for some company. I nervously but happily obliged. As I walked slightly behind him, I stealthily put my phone on silent, obviously hoping to avoid any future disruptions.

We walked into his classroom, which was largely unchanged from my days as a student some 4 or 5 years prior, with the exception of a new projector setup. He took a seat at the front of the room while I slid into a chair in the first row. He sat there grading quizzes while asking me a bunch of questions about what I was up to, how college was, if his course was helpful in preparing me for university studies, and so forth. Ever the consummate professional. The questioning seemed intense but very genuine, which honestly made him even hotter than I remember. I just sat there in the front row, legs coyly crossed. The classroom still had the same orange chairs. Amazing how nothing much had changed. Every time he looked up to glance my way, I felt butterflies. I was suddenly aware of how short my skirt was and how slutty my thigh high socks must have looked. Almost as if he could sense my sudden bout of self-consciousness, he glanced up and rather than look at me directly, I noticed that his attention shifted slightly downward towards my exposed thighs. This caused me to shift slightly, and I found myself wanting him to examine me in greater detail. I really wanted him to notice my obvious cleavage. I let my hair down which nicely danced over the open parts of my black blouse.

After continuing to interrogate me for what seemed like hours as his stack of papers dwindled, he worked in a few interesting stories of his own covering the past five years that I had been away. He took a year off after my senior year after he caught his wife fucking another guy. While I have no idea what had happened, it was pretty clear that he adored his (now ex) wife and this whole scenario had left him more than a little heartbroken. He traveled around the northern US and Canada for a few months and had just generally taken some time off. As he probably felt a bit vulnerable and as if he had overshared a bit too much with a former student, he went back to asking me questions about my time in university.

You know, more general life stuff. He eventually asked me about some of the other aspects of college, you know, the less innocent aspects. I mentioned that I had done a bit of drinking and I volunteered that I had fooled around a bit, but that school had really been my focus. Again, I care what he thinks. But, for some reason I blurted out that, "I guess no one quite scratched that Mr. W itch" which I quickly laughed at in an effort to turn it into a joke. He just smiled and carried on, seemingly unaware at how awkward my comment was. Or maybe he was completely cognizant of the fact that I just majorly slipped up and exposed my little crush. Fuck. Kill. ME.

Fortunately, before my mind could spiral out of control too much, he asked me what I was thinking about doing in the future and I mentioned that I might want to teach for a few years while I figured out my next move. While this distracted my mind, I could tell my panties were continuing to get soaked at a greater rate than before. We kept talking, slowly but effortlessly bouncing from topic to topic. He even looked up at me long enough for me to catch a coy little smile on his face. While I tried not to read too much into it, I couldn't help but wonder if he wanted to fuck me as badly as I wanted him to fuck me.

After another 30 minutes of sheer agony or so, he finished grading and he told me that he had to go prepare for some practical lessons for Monday morning. By now it was after 4 pm and it seemed like everyone else has gone home for the weekend. He told me that he was heading into the labs and the prep room, but I was welcome to join if I wanted to keep talking. The labs were a giant open space which I had of course spent a lot of time in while I was in high school. But the prep room was somewhere I had never gotten more than a passing peek at and I had always been kind of curious to see what was behind the closed door where the chemicals were kept. I had often imagined sneaking in there for lascivious reasons.

We walked into the preparation room which was a pretty small area with a really sturdy old metal desk and some benches along the back wall. It definitely had that slightly dank "chemical" smell that I've come to expect from laboratories. He pointed towards another door in the back labeled "supply room" in the back of the room. "That's where we keep all the really hazardous stuff. This area is mostly for preparation, bookkeeping, and hiding from administrators and students". I chuckled and asked if there were any cameras to prevent the stoner sorts from stealing materials for their meth labs. He seemed surprised but smiled gently and replied in the negative. I felt really embarrassed and must have been bright red as he pointed out that I'm really cute when I'm blushing. I think at that point we both understood what we wanted to happen. Needless to say, he wasn't going to be getting anything ready for Monday morning.

"And this room is incredibly soundproof", he added. I looked at him for a second and replied, "that doesn't seem like a very useful feature for preparing solutions for teaching". He replied, "well I think it's just a consequence of old school construct... ". I cut him off by grabbing his cheeks and kissing him. I don't know what came over me. Well, I do know what came over me: sex hormones coursing through my system. He didn't push away but rather gently leaned in. My brain was on fire! I could not believe this was happening!

After a few seconds, he pulled away for a breath. "Hey, are you sure this is okay? I mean, I don't want to take advantage or anything". I just looked at him and smiled. "I kissed you, remember? Are you sure that you are okay with this?" I asked. We sat on the desk and talked for a moment while our hands nervously explored. That thing was sturdy enough to support two dwarf elephants trying to actively replenish the entire species after consuming a few hundred grams of Viagra. Anyone who says consent isn't sexy doesn't know what they are talking about. I could see his bulging erection through his jeans as we sat there and talked for what seemed like hours.

After a quiet second and a few breaths, I traced up his leg along the bulge in his denim jeans. It was like a python stuffed in there waiting to be liberated.

He grabbed my hand gently and pulled me closer. I could smell his sweat starting to break through his deodorant. It was nice and reminded me of the earthy aroma of spring soil and pine trees. He started to kiss me gently as he grabbed me firmly by my hips. I couldn't believe this was happening. So, like any red-blooded woman, I leaned in, placing my hand on his chest for balance.

After what must have been less than a few minutes of kissing and groping, I reached down and felt the swollen bulge in his pants again. It was still there, except harder than before. He pulled away and looked right at me, silently asking for permission with his gaze. I nodded eagerly with a gentle smile. I grabbed his waistband to stabilize myself as I moved down to my knees. I unbuckled his belt and slid down his pants and underwear. He leaned back against the table as I maneuvered his cock towards my mouth. I kissed the tip of his warm penis, enjoying the little bead of precum that was waiting on the tip.

I slowly took his dick into my mouth. Aside from a few gentle moans, the only other sound that he made was him uttering that that I was a good girl as I knelt before him on my knees. I moved my head back and forth, taking a bit more of his shaft into my mouth each time. I wanted him to fuck my throat, but something told me he was too much of a gentleman for that. Well, at least this time. Before long, the tip of his erection was at the back of my tongue. I took a moment to look up at him.

"Fuuuuuuck. You're gorgeous", he muttered. Not even having his dick in my mouth could keep me from smiling with this acceptance that had been bestowed upon me. I started to work his shaft, carefully using my tongue to stimulate his glans and the side of his dick. His precum tasted so sweet with a hint of salt. Christ, I wanted him to cum in my mouth. Of course, that said, I wanted him to cum in my eagerly waiting cunt even more.

I could tell that he was getting close by the gentle throb of his penis. I withdrew most of his manhood from my mouth, only leaving the head in. I sucked gently and as I pulled away, it made a pop sound, catching a bit more precum on the tip of my tongue in the process. He pulled me up off my knees and pressed me up onto the desk. He kneeled down and liberated my pussy from my now drenched panties by sliding them down over my socks. I could smell my wetness. He put his face between my legs and kissed up my thigh. My skirt obscured my view and prevented me from running my fingers through his soft hair. My back arched slightly in the most cliché way possible. He got up to my vulva to find that it was wet, ready for him. He licked the length of my wetness, probing gently with his tongue. The sensation of his soft but slightly graying beard against my exposed thighs only heightened my arousal.

He grabbed my waist and pulled his mouth deeper into my pussy. I found myself thinking about how wet his beard must be with my juices as he used his warm tongue to gently lick my labia. After teasing me for an eternity, he circled round and round my clitoral hood. As you'd expect, my clit was sore with anticipation before he finally glazed over it, wetting it with my own juices and his saliva. He gently massaged my clitoris with his soft tongue until I was about to cum. He moved back towards my labia and I yelled at him, louder than I expected, "No! Go back! Don't fucking stop!".

Like a compliant school boy, he gently sucked my clit and continued circling it with his tongue. I started to moan to signal that I was getting closer. I grabbed his head and pushed it up against my crotch, no doubt making it hard for him to breathe anything but the aroma of my crotch.

"Oh fuck! I'm cumming!" and just like that, waves of ecstasy rode over me as I pulled his face harder against my contracting nethers. I took a breath and relaxed slightly, releasing his head from between my thighs.

After taking a much needed lungful of air, he stood up and passionately kissed me. I could taste myself on his lips, on his tongue. I pulled away with my hand on the back of his neck... inviting him to fuck me with my intense stare. I could feel the need for his cock inside my sopping wetness. I looked down and I could see how wet the tip of his penis was. I leaned back against the table, shifted my butt forward, and parted my legs a bit more.

He reached over to lock the door. Probably a moot point since everyone was long gone but I understand the need for secrecy given the delicacy of the situation. Taking his penis in his hand, he gently ran the head of his dick between my wet vulva before carefully sliding his rock-hard member into me. Each inch of his cock felt amazing as he slowly penetrated my pussy, sliding in effortlessly. As cliché as it is, his member probing my wetness was like a warm knife sliding into a brick of room temperature butter.

He moaned softly as he deliberately thrusted into my vagina before slowly pulling out. He whispered, "Christ, you feel amazing." I responded by pulling him back into me and wrapping my legs around his waist. If anyone had been in the lab, the sound of him pounding my soppy wet vagina would have been audible. His amount of self-control was amazing, although the look in his eyes gave away how close he was to cumming. Each of his thrusts made me feel so full, helping me re-building towards a second climax.

I generally do not cum from penetration alone but the fucking that he gave me was more than enough to push me over the edge. As I moaned, I whispered, "Mr. W! I'm going to fucking cum again". He fucked me harder, somehow going deeper than he had a few strokes earlier. My pussy felt challenged, stretched. Full. I let out a moan as my orgasm could not be contained or held back. As I came, I could tell that the squeezing pressure of my contracting vagina was going to be enough to push him over. After a few seconds of panting, a grunt was accompanied by the unmistakable throbbing of his penis inside me, filling me with cum. My legs were shaking slightly and my cheeks must have been beet red.

After staring at me for a few seconds, he pulled away and the cum he left inside me wasted no time leaking out on to the desk underneath my bare ass. Still looking directly into my eyes, he said, "Please God tell me you're on the pill". While not the most romantic thing he could have said, I understand the panic given how primal urges had clearly removed whatever semblance of good judgement we had left.

I shook my head no but added, "but I just finished my period a few days ago, so I think we're alright". He grabbed a paper towel, nearly tripping over his pants in the process. We quickly got our clothing back on and straightened away with the exception of my wet panties which I collected from the floor. I was smiling knowing that I had just fucked one of the hottest teachers that everyone else wanted. I coyly handed him my soaked panties as a gift, or perhaps a trophy, and as I made direct eye contact with him, I noticed that his usually stoic demeanor had turned into an unmistakable grin of satisfaction.

We quickly walked back across the open lab area. He nervously suggested that he give me a ride home, since it was now pretty dark and it was definitely raining. I only lived 5 minutes away but honestly, I would have agreed to anything if it meant spending a few more minutes with him. The car trip was too short to be awkward and mostly me giving him a sequence of directions. Before getting out of the car, I gave him a kiss on his bearded cheek which still smelled of my pussy. "Hey, why don't you take my number?" I asked. "I'll be around all summer unless ...".

He quickly interjected before I could finish, "No, I'd really like that! Besides. Who could really say anything at this point? You're really nice and maybe we could try something a bit more... traditional next time".

I giggled slightly, no doubt smiling from ear to ear. "I'd really like that." I got out and confidently strode up to my front door happy being the only person in the world that had just gotten the shit fucked out of her by her high school chemistry teacher. And the best part: it was probably going to happen again.