Don't Stand So Close To Me (Johnny and Mim)

[Madam Mim]

She wasn't taking her eyes off of him, and she didn't quite care if that made him uncomfortable. Mara held the end of a pen between her lips as she watched Mr. Silverstone write on the blackboard, her eyes tracing his form through the Oxford shirt and khaki chinos. The man knew how to dress, that was for certain, and he certainly knew how to show off his assets. Dark eyes met his for a few moments when he turned around before she forced a blush and looked down, pulling the pen out of her mouth and jotting down notes about Humbert Humbert. She had to suppress a smile as the memory came unbidden.

She'd known he was there. Mara had heard Mr. Silverstone walking across the gym floor and that David hadn't been paying attention. David's cock was in her mouth and his hand was in her hair as he moaned softly with his back pressed against the wall at the edge of the bleachers. She'd waited until Mr. Silverstone found them, and when he didn't immediately say anything but froze and watched she moaned around David's cock, sending vibrations through his body. That nearly undid him and Mara suddenly had the urge to just get it over with. While massaging his balls she took his entire length before running her tongue in a serpentine pattern along the underside of his shaft, sucking hard on his head until he came and she swallowed it with a moan, allowing a few drops to drip onto her lips and down her chin.

"Oh my God Mr. Silverstone!" Mara had shrieked, cleaning up the cum on her chin and sucking it off in a studiedly absent-minded way. They'd run off before he could say anything, but she knew he'd watched. She knew she might actually have him.

Mara had decided the first day of school, after all, that she would have Mr. Silverstone. There was no way she couldn't, no way to ignore what those pecs might look like under those button-up shirts, how firm that ass was under his khakis and slacks. She had to have John Silverstone. He was also, after all, the only decent-looking teacher under 40 in the entire school. She had in the past few months played the sweet and innocent girl many people thought she was--well, many teachers thought she was, anyway. If she had a habit of not noticing how low her shirt had slipped as she leaned on her desk in the front row of her Junior English class, well that wasn't her fault, right? Sitting back in her chair with her knees apart under her short skirt was just bad breeding was all.

And all the time she'd watched Mr. Silverstone watching her. His catching her sucking off David DiMarco wasn't planned, of course, and had potentially ruined her image. If she blushed enough and was demure enough she might be able to save it until the time was right...but then again, there was no time like the present. Besides, she'd seen that wedding band and Mr. Silverstone himself seemed like a fighter; it wasn't like it wouldn't be fun anyway. Mara sucked harder on her pen, debating internally.

Fuck it, she decided. When his back was turned she discreetly pulled four Polaroids from her backpack and slipped them into the front cover of her copy of their class book.

The Polaroids were stolen from her stepfather's nightstand drawer. He thought she didn't know that he watched her, but he was old and ugly so she certainly wasn't going to give him what he wanted. Each of the Polaroids featured Mara, sometimes changing, sometimes drying after a shower, one was of her from behind while she bent over in a short skirt to look for something; all of them were when she had thought she was alone in her room. She had only found them when her mother told her to go look for some spare change in his nightstand, and slowly she'd been taking one or two at a time for just such an occasion as this.

Mara was careful to blush and look down demurely a few more times, whenever Mr. Silverstone turned around from the blackboard. Finally the bell rang, and without meeting his eyes she turned in her essay and left, being sure to accidentally leave her book with the Polaroids on her desk.

 

[Johnny Silverstone]

“…and think of the risks he’s taking. Think of the consequences, if they were to be caught.”

Rolling a piece of chalk around in the fingers of his right hand, Johnny Silverstone slowly walked from one side of the room to the other as he lectured to the high school class about the book he’d recently assigned them to read. As he spoke, he let his eyes wander around the room, holding eye contact with each student for a short length of time before moving onto the next. He walked in between the rows of students, keeping them captivated, getting them to laugh every so often. Johnny was a good teacher. Most of his colleagues grew tired of teaching after just a few short years, but not him. After over a decade, he still found enjoyment in it. Though, of course, there were some trying moments. His eyes fell briefly on Mara, lingering there for just a moment before he moved onto look at another one of his students. Every time he saw her now, he couldn’t help but think of the scene he walked into a week prior.

He should have stopped it sooner. It wasn’t that he didn’t think to speak up—he definitely had, the moment he entered the gymnasium and saw a girl with her head in the lap of a boy. His mouth hung open to call out to them, and break it up, but his voice caught in his throat when he noticed those brown curls the boy was clinging to. Johnny wasn’t entirely sure who he was—just another kid. But those curls. He could’ve recognized those curls anywhere. Seventh period, front row. Mara.

He should have ended it, but there he stood, mouth still held slightly open, lips forming the beginnings of a word that never made it out. Johnny froze out of shock; out of all of his students, Mara was probably the last person he’d ever expect to be involved in something like this. She seemed so sweet, so innocent. Yet here she was: the full, soft lips he’d seen her curl into a shy smile so many times, now wrapped around the shaft of a cock. Moaning out in a voice he’d only ever heard in class, softly speaking up to answer a question or two now and again. And when she turned to look up at him—God, the look on her face as she thoughtlessly wiped the boy’s seed off her chin and licked her fingers. Johnny could only stare back at her, wearing a similarly bewildered look. He remained there, feet planted on the gym floor, even after the two ran off.

Mara was the sort of girl that every male teacher had to deal with now and again. The kind that you had to make a point of not looking at very often during class, lest you lose track of what you were lecturing about. Even with his best efforts, he still found himself sneaking glances at her now and again—letting his gaze dip into her low-cut shirts, or run up her bare legs, hovering around the hem of her skirt. Quick, little peeks. Every time he did it, he felt a small pang of guilt. He and Sarah had been happily married for almost three years, after all. Plus, this was an underage teenager that he was leering at. That should have been more than enough to keep his eyes from wandering, but…well, it was hard not to steal a glance sometimes. And besides, there was no real harm in just looking, right?

That may have been true when it came to sneaking second-long glances in the classroom, but not so much for standing in the back of a gymnasium for a few full minutes, watching one student suck off another. That was bad. Not just for Mara and her friend—what she’d done was grounds for a suspension, or perhaps even expulsion—but for Johnny as well. How would he look if he were to turn them both in, and they were to tell the principal that he stood there watching them in silence until it was all over? Not good. And besides, he didn’t want any harm to come to Mara. She was a good student, after all, and that little incident could’ve ruined her academic career. In the days that followed, though, Johnny realized that he couldn’t ever look at her in the same way again.

Though he still found himself looking at her nonetheless—even more than he had been before, in fact. It was making teaching increasingly difficult, especially considering the subject matter of the book he’d recently assigned the class. It wasn’t his first time reading it. In the past, he would talk at length to his class about the moral reprehensibility of Hubert’s actions. But as much as he hated to admit it, Johnny now found it easier to see things from the narrator’s point of view as he read through the book again. And every time he spoke the name of the book’s namesake, he found himself glancing in Mara’s direction. Even now, as he stood at the front of the class, he stared at that pen between those lips of hers. Johnny had never felt envious of a pen before. Not until that moment.

As her gaze caught his, he quickly glanced away as well, making a fist with his left hand. With four fingers curled around his thumb, he grazed his thumbnail back and forth against the hard metal of his wedding band as he went on speaking. Thankfully, it wasn’t much longer until the bell rang, and his class quickly packed up their things. They were all eager to leave; it was the last class period of the day, after all.

“All right, all right, everyone,” he spoke, even as people stood to hand in their assignments and make their way out of the room, “Essays up front, make a pile on the table. Be sure to read the next thirty pages for tomorrow’s class.” He turned to the board to write down the assignment in chalk. When he turned back to face the now half-empty classroom, his eyes first went to Mara’s desk. She was gone, but she’d left her book behind. With a sigh, he walked toward the front row and reached for it. He’d return it to her tomorrow. Slipping it off of the desk, a single rectangle of glossy paper fell from between the pages, flipping through the air a few times before landing face-down on the floor. Picking it up, he turned the photograph over—and quickly pressed it to his chest to prevent anyone else from seeing it, once he’d recognized what he had in his hand. Johnny’s cheeks burned bright red. As soon as the last student had left his classroom, he quickly pushed the door shut, and only then allowed himself to left the photo from the white fabric of his shirt.

It was a picture of a girl from behind. She was leaning forward, and the hem of her skirt had ridden up to reveal her panties, exposing half of her ass. Even from behind, the head full of tight, dark brown curls left him know exactly who the subject of the photo was. Inside Mara’s book, he found more. Eyes studied each picture. This was too much. What was a sixteen-year-old girl doing with photographs like this? Did she leave them here intentionally? Or maybe they were meant for someone else, and she happened to forget them in her book. Regardless, this had gone far enough. He had to tell someone. The principal, for starters. Maybe the guidance counsellor. The main office was just at the other end of the hallway. Johnny’s eyes went to the closed door again—before being drawn back down to the photos in his hand.

The next day, just before seventh period, Johnny sat at the long, wooden desk at the front of the room. There was a mess of papers, pens, and different books on top of it, but his eyes were fixed on the top drawer. He’d been in that drawer several times that day—mostly between classes and during lunch. But now, it was closed. As students filed into the room, Johnny lifted his head just as the person he’d been waiting for entered.

“Mara?” He called her over to his desk as other students found their seats. “You left something behind yesterday.” Opening that top drawer, he slid out her book and pushed it towards her once she was standing in front of him. “I’m guessing that you may have found it a little difficult to do last night’s assignment without this,” he said with a small smirk. He spoke to her in the same way he always did—in the same way he spoke to all his students. But behind that friendly confidence, Johnny hid a deep nervousness. Gesturing to her desk with his head so that she’d take her seat, he stood up and walked to the front of the class, beginning the day’s lecture. As he spoke, he didn’t dare look towards the girl again.

Ultimately, Johnny decided not to report her. Even so, he was ashamed to look at her now that she had her book back—because that was all he had given her. Just the book. The photographs sat in a neat pile, face-down in that top drawer of his desk.

 

[Madam Mim]

The night passed fitfully for her. She had difficulty getting Mr. Silverstone off of her mind, and really she was a bit surprised at that. Men didn't typically have that effect on her, though she had it on them. Mara was anxious to see the results of her decision, to know if he would keep the pictures. Of course he'd give her the book back; she needed to do the reading, after all, and she'd already had to borrow a friend's for tonight. But she would see in the morning whether he would report her, give her the pictures back, or accept the subtle advance. Mara always had loved a challenge, especially when it came to older men, but she'd never tried seducing a teacher before. Two therapists, a doctor, her minister, a friend's rabbi, and a former boyfriend's dad--all middle aged men bored with their marriages and looking to feel young again--had all fallen for her far too easily and had bored her quickly; and besides, she didn't see them every day. Boys her own age bored her even more quickly but were easier to get for quickies, and college boys though equally boring were always up for something a bit kinkier. One guy in the Delta Phi fraternity had once paid her to crush his hand with a stiletto and whip him with a belt buckle side out and she'd been surprised at how much she'd liked it; every few months he called her, complaining of not being able to find another girl like her, and she'd go over and do it again for fifty bucks an hour. But a teacher though...a teacher was someone she saw every day, someone who would have to hide it every single day even after class, someone with whom breaking taboos would be even riskier and therefore more fun. And if he fought her, fought his attraction to her...well, so much the better.

When she wasn't immediately taken to the principle's office in the morning Mara took it as a good sign. She either had Mr. Silverstone or he just wasn't a snitch, and both were good news for her. The hours seemed to crawl by, even through lunch, as she waited for seventh period. She even slipped into the girl's room after sixth period to slip off her bra and stuff it into her backpack. The white blouse was still drawn rather tightly across her breasts without it, and they day had been chilly and rainy, seeping into classrooms. Perfect.

Mara's heart fluttered when Mr. Silverstone called her name. This was it, the moment of truth. Her stomach flip-flopped in anxious excitement as she approached his desk. "Yes?" she asked sweetly, meeting his eyes and biting her bottom lip lightly.

"You left something behind yesterday. I'm guessing you may have found it a little difficult to do last night's assignment without this." He smirked at her. Attractive or not, he was still a pretty cool teacher, after all.

"Oh thank God!" she breathed, taking the book from him. "I couldn't find it anywhere, I thought I left it on the 49 last night! I ah, I actually borrowed Jenny's book," she motioned to Jenny Driscoll, who was just entering the room and from whom she actually had borrowed the book. "I wasn't looking forward to having to buy a new copy though. Thanks so much, Mr. S!" She smiled brightly before returning to her seat while he began the lecture. Mara almost didn't want to open the book, wanted to savor the moment. But open it she did.

The photos weren't there. She flipped back and forth through the pages several times, making sure he hadn't found them and put them back in a different spot, but no the Polaroids were gone. Mara had to bite the insides of her cheeks to stop the grin. Instead she raised her eyes to the teacher with a new sort of smolder in them. Mr. Silverstone didn't dare look at Mara again and it was good, because if he had he would have seen a new sort of predatory pleasure in her gaze.

Most of the rest of the week passed almost without incident. A time or two, Mara had dropped her pencil on the way to sharpen it and had bent over to pick it up, but it was nothing that could be considered out of the ordinary. The rest of the week also passed similarly as it had that day: dreary, cold, and rainy. Friday afternoon found a particularly chilly downpour and it was a good thing she didn't mind the cold. Mara waited until Mr. Silverstone appeared to be packing up to go home for the night and she ran to the unsheltered bus stop through the rain. She knew she'd missed her bus and although she had a collapsible umbrella she decided to stand there in just a jacket and the same white shirt, again with her bra stuffed into her backpack with the umbrella. Mara made sure to look as cold and miserable as possible when Mr. Silverstone's car began its approach.

 

[Johnny Silverstone]

For the next two full days, those photos remained face-down in his desk drawer, untouched. It was too risky to look at them with students milling about. On top of that, the thought of looking at them felt wrong, in a way. Mara was one of his pupils, and the teacher-student bond was a strong one, an important one. They put a certain level of trust in him, and it was his duty to shape their minds for the better. Having those photos betrayed that trust in a big way. In simply keeping access to this, he felt as though he were running the risk of breaking his core principles, not only as an instructor, but as a human being.

Johnny had gone into that drawer several times throughout the day for assorted supplies. Pens, paper, an extra piece of chalk. Each time he did, he gave brief pause, staring at that deep black square on the back of the first Polaroid on the stack. The worst was during seventh period, when Mara sat in his classroom. Inevitably, his eyes darted towards her soon after he stumbled across that little pile of pictures again, lingering there for a half-second, as if he were worried that she knew precisely what was in that drawer. The things he’d stolen from her.

After the final bell, the classroom emptied, and Johnny found himself embarking on his usual afternoon activities. There was a fresh stack of assignments on his desk to be graded. His red pen glided along the margins of each page, filling them with comments in looping cursive. At some point, those looping lines became thinner, sputtering on the page, until the red finally stopped flowing from the pen’s tip. Out of ink. Tossing the empty pen onto his desktop, he absent-mindedly opened his drawer for a new one, and—there was that black square again. Looking at it felt like staring into an abyss.

Eyes drifted towards the classroom door; it was closed. The lights in his hallway were already off, the janitor having swept by not too long ago. Fingers touched at the plastic-y paper, remaining pressed there. Staring at that black square again, he imagined what was on the other side. Thoughts drifted to that surprised look Mara gave him in the gymnasium not too long ago, her lips and chin wet.

The unfinished assignments were gathered into a stack and pushed to one side of the desk, clearing a space. As if he were dealing cards to play solitaire, Johnny laid out the Polaroids, one by one in a line. The photography was amateurish, taken from odd angles and somewhat blurry. He wondered who, exactly, had taken the pictures. And why did Mara have them in her notebook in the first place? Who were they meant for? A boyfriend, perhaps? As he studied the photos, he stopped questioning them as much, disregarding their meaning while wrapping himself up in their contents.

God, she looked so young. Smooth, perfect skin. Long legs…Johnny sighed through his nose as he studied the pictures, one after another. For the next few afternoons, this became a ritual of his: taking the pictures out of their hiding spot when everyone else had left for the day. Giving into his morbid curiosity, his shameful lust. Look was all he ever did, however; he never once touched the firm bulge that would inevitably grow in khakis or jeans. That seemed like a step too far—to do <i>that</i> to the thought of one of his own students.

And that was how things continued for the remainder of the week. Avoiding the girl’s gaze during class, and then staring intently at her in various stages of undress in those photographs. Friday afternoon was no exception; it made his usual afternoon correcting take even longer than normal. When he finally left the school building, evening had already fallen—not that it made much of a difference in the lighting outside, given the dark grey clouds looming above, and the rain beating against the pavement. Clutching his briefcase, Johnny dashed out to his car—one of the last ones in the parking lot—fumbling to unlock his doors before slipping inside. Turning on his old sedan and pulling out of his parking space, he drove down the narrow road that connected to the main street, on the corner of which was the bus stop. Pausing at the stop sign, he glanced over when he realized that there as someone still sitting in the enclosure. Odd, considering that the last bus should have left almost twenty minutes ago. Through the rain-spattered glass, it took him a moment before he realized just who was sitting there. His fingers loosened their grip on his steering wheel, slipping down a few inches. Fuck. What was he supposed to do in this situation? Running into his students outside of school hours was always awkward--doubly so right now, considering which of his students it was. But it looked like she had been waiting there for a while; he had to do something.

“Hey!” he called to Mara after leaning over the center console, manually rolling down his passenger side window. "I think you might have already missed the last bus. Are you waiting for someone to come pick you up?" he asked, staring at her through the falling rain.

 

[Madam Mim]

Mara waited impatiently at the bus stop and wished it weren't sheltered. If it weren't sheltered her shirt would already be more than transparent with the way the rain was coming down. But perhaps it was better this way; if she were only briefly out of the rain there would still be something left to the imagination even as her hard, sensitive nipples pressed against the cloth of her shirt. But it would be easier to get a ride if she looked pitiful and miserable...

Eventually she settled for waiting under a drippy corner of the shelter which at first didn't do much more than leave a cold spot on her scalp. Eventually though her curls were dampened and hung limp. What was taking him so long? She'd seen him take out the pictures and spread them on his desk, looking at them but never touching himself. Had he decided to just jerk it in the car instead? Just as she was about to stand and look around the edge of the shelter to see whether his car was still there, an old sedan pulled up to the curb. Inside Mr. Silverstone seemed to hesitate but finally he leaned over and rolled down the window. Perfect. Mara ventured out into the rain in the five feet of space between the shelter and the curb, leaning down to speak through his window.

"I missed it? Crap!" Mara stamped her foot as though frustrated and the ample cleavage visible through the passenger window jiggled gently. She sighed in frustration. "I got caught up talking to a friend and missed my bus. I didn't know how late the city buses run out by here so I figured I could at least give it a try." She straightened for a moment, allowing the rain to seep through her shirt, before sighing and leaning back down to the window. "Have you got an umbrella or something I can borrow then? It's ten miles home and I forgot mine this morning." She didn't worry for a moment that he would actually allow her to walk home in the cold rain, umbrella or no, but it was no fun if she didn't give him the option. She wanted the web she caught him in to be of his own making.

 

[Johnny Silverstone]

As she approached his window, Johnny stared at Mara from his driver's seat. He couldn't help but feel bad for her, seeing her soaked like that. Those springy, brown curls that normally hung about the girl's face were now dark, soaked, and hanging, dripping water as it poured from above. Eyes trailed down those curls as she stood just outside his car window. It was only then that he noticed the dark circles of her nipples, visible through the wet fabric of her shirt. It was no secret to Johnny that Mara sometimes went without a bra. Occasionally, he'd watch her breasts shift freely beneath the fabric of her blouse as she moved around her desk at class. But now, with the wet fabric clinging to her chest, perfectly outlining the girl's breasts and those two, stiff nubs, there was very little left to his imagination.

It was only when Mara finished speaking that Johnny realized he'd forgotten to look back up towards her face. He'd been staring at her chest for a few solid seconds. Quickly, his gaze shot back up to meet hers. "I've got an umbrella in my trunk, but--..." he trailed off. As bad an idea as it seemed to invite a female student into his car like this, he couldn't let the poor girl walk home in this freezing cold rain. With a quiet sigh, he leaned over towards the passenger's side door again, popping it open with the handle.

"Hop in, I can give you a lift. Just roll up that window," he offered, straightening himself back up. Noticing that his briefcase was still sitting in the seat next to him, he quickly picked it up by the handle and tossed it into the backseat, onto the floor. Partly to make room for his passenger, and partly because he was irrationally frightened of her finding out what was inside that leather satchel. Mixed in with some books and a stack of student papers were the Polaroids. He'd thought about leaving them in his desk over the weekend, but ultimately decided against. He told himself that the reason was because he didn't want the weekend cleaning staff stumbling upon them if they were to open up his desk drawer. That was an unlikely event, though. The real reason was that he simply didn't want to wait until Monday to see them again.

 

[Madam Mim]

He was staring. To avoid smiling Mara chewed lightly on her tongue and waited for him to remember to look up at her face. She carefully sculpted her expression, keeping her eyes wide and innocent and pathetic as a kicked puppy. But his choices were his own to make...for now. At first it seemed as though he were going to let her walk home, mentioning the umbrella in his trunk.

Then he didn't. Instead Mr. Silverstone leaned over and opened his passenger door. Mara smiled brightly and slipped inside, not being careful about how tightly together she kept her knees. Shivering a little she closed the door and cranked up the window. "What you don't like riding through the rain with the windows down?" she teased, turning her smile to him. She'd noticed how quickly he'd tossed the briefcase but said nothing.

"Thanks for the ride, Mr. S," she said once she'd rolled up the window and wrung out her hair. Mara kept her backpack on the floor between her ankles, which forced her to spread her knees. The hem of her wet skirt was within inches of revealing what Mr. Silverstone had so often seen in those Polaroids, but she wouldn't allow more than that. "So..." she said after a short pause. Without the water weighing it down her hair was beginning to regain some of its curl. "Any big plans this weekend?"

 

[Johnny Silverstone]

Watching as Mara climbed into his car, sitting alongside him, his eyes briefly fell to the bare skin of her thighs. He was mindful of the hemline of her skirt; here he was, just a few inches of fabric away from seeing something he'd been daydreaming about all week. He'd seen her in those photos, sure, but nearly all of them were blurred or dimly lit, and each was only a few square inches big. The prospect of seeing the real thing, up close and in person, was so much more exciting.

...And as soon as that thought crossed his mind, he felt disgusted and ashamed of himself. This was one of his students. One of his students. He had to make sure to remember that.

A forced little laugh left his lips when she made the joke about his window. "This car's already on its way to rusting out entirely; leaving the window open in the rain wouldn't be the best decision."

"Just let me know how to get to your house from here," he added. As they took off down the main road, Johnny did his best to keep his eyes on the road. Every so often, he glanced over in Mara's direction under the guise of checking his right-hand mirror, but really, he was just watching the way her breasts jiggled beneath that wet shirt as his car rolled over bumps and small holes in the road.

"I'm a little bit behind on my grading, so I'll probably spend Saturday correcting essays from this week," he gestured with one hand to the briefcase in the back--failing to mention, of course, the reason why he had fallen so far behind. Eyes drifted towards Mara's legs, splayed open on his passenger seat, before they quickly shot back up towards the road. His right hand dropped from the steering wheel onto his lap, doing his best to inconspicuously hide the lump that had begun to grow in the fabric of his pants. "And then on Sunday...who knows," he said with a shrug. "I'll probably do something with Sarah. See a movie, or have dinner, or something." He didn't often bring up his wife or other aspects of his personal life with his students, but he did so now almost as a way of reminding himself that he was married.

"What about you?"

 

[Madam Mim]

"Oh yeah. I'm up on Eucalyptus, so hang a left up here." Mara pointed to an upcoming intersection. She was taking him the long way 'round, a way usually fraught with traffic, construction, and frostheaves. "For the record, I like riding with the windows down in the rain. It's refreshing, and I love the rain when it's not, y'know, freezing."

Out of the corner of her eye she watched Mr. Silverstone watching her. He appeared to be checking his mirrors, but his mirrors weren't in her lap. He moved his hand to his own lap in a studiedly casual way and Mara pretended not to notice. She'd been enjoying watching how wound up she could get him; perhaps she could get him wound tightly enough that it wouldn't matter how much adjusting he did. She smiled and shifted her thighs towards him a tiny degree when he mentioned his wife. "Is Sarah your girlfriend?" she asked innocently, as though she hadn't noticed his ring the moment she'd decided to have him.

"Me?" she raised her eyebrows and pretended to shift uncomfortably. "Well don't judge me but I'll probably be at Club Innuendo tomorrow." She rolled her eyes. "You know it? A, ah, friend of mine works there." Not untrue; he was as close to a boyfriend as Mara ever got and he did in fact work at Club Innuendo. Going there wasn't quite the chore she made it out to be, however. "He likes me to come by and hang out on weekends. Gets bored with all the drunk people around trying to talk at him. Clubs aren't usually my scene but it's not too terrible; you should come sometime." Mara put the slightest emphasis on the word come, though not enough to be more than passingly noticeable.

 

[Johnny Silverstone]

"Wife," he quickly corrected her. A little too quickly, perhaps. "It'll be three years at the end of this month." On the steering wheel, his thumb curled inwards, rubbing up against his wedding band.

"I know it," he said in reference to Club Innuendo, pausing for a moment as he imagined Mara at the nightclub. It wasn't exactly a place that he associated with high schoolers. "Not that it's really any of my business, but aren't you a little...young for the club scene?" he asked, looking over at her as they pulled up to a red light on an intersection. As young as she was, it still didn't stop him from giving another glance down to her thighs, which seemed to be spread just a bit further apart than they had when he last looked. Which meant that the hem of her skirt had ridden up ever so slightly further.

Clearing his throat, Johnny lifted his head, staring out of the windshield again as his wipers beat against the glass. The hand on his lap gripped the fabric of his pant leg, tugging at it in an attempt to smooth out the material, and make it seem less bunched up around his crotch. It had the opposite effect, unfortunately; as his hand tugged downward, the fabric became taut against the hard lump running down one of his legs, outlining his cock for the briefest of moments before his hand settled back down on top of it, obscuring it from view. The light turned green, and he took off again.

"Besides, as fun as all that sounds, it's not really wise for a teacher to hang out with his students. People talk." He glanced over at Mara's face as he spoke the last sentence, raising his eyebrows. He said it in a way that was half-joking, but it was the truth. The last thing he needed was rumors being spread about him being seen around town with one of his underage students.

 

[Madam Mim]

"Shoulda known someone would've snatched you up by now." Mara blushed and looked down demurely at her "slip" and plucked at the hem of her skirt as though unsuccessfully trying to pull it down. "But I mean, these days more and more people are getting into that sort of thing, like polyamory and stuff. Sign of the times and all that. So you never know." She shrugged.

The conversation turned to the club and she shrugged again. "I only go because my friend works there," she lied. "We met at church and he told me I should come hang out sometimes, so I do." Not strictly a lie; he'd been loitering around a smoke hole with one of the men in the choir though he didn't actually attend that church. "I like the music and sometimes I dance if I feel like it, but like I said it's not usually my scene."

Mara watched out of the corner of her eye as her English teacher struggled with his pants. Under the guise of looking out the window she watched him try his damnedest to obscure his erection, eventually covering it with his hand though not before she'd seen that he was hung. She sat up a little straighter, twisting to crack her back in the seat and using this as an excuse to tease him a little more. While she twisted one way she tugged down her shirt a little more, and when she twisted the other way she shifted her legs so that her skirt stuck to her thighs in a way that outlined what she knew he wanted to see. Her hem only barely covered the crotch of her panties and she glanced over to see whether he was watching.

"Well I didn't say with me, goose," she said with a nervous laugh. "Like, maybe with Sarah or something. It's a cool place if that's the sort of thing you're into. Oh, right up here."

Between frost heaves and potholes this particularly neglected road was much rougher than the others. Mara made sure her skirt didn't ride up any higher--he would have to work for that privilege--but her breasts bounced freely as they made their way over the broken asphalt. Already aroused, she shifted her hips forward slightly to reap the reward of the vibrations.

 

[Johnny Silverstone]

Johnny said nothing about Mara's comment about him already being taken. It was inappropriate, no doubt, and were she to say something like that in the classroom, he'd have no choice but to give her a detention. As uncomfortable as it was in that moment, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride. It was meant to be a compliment, after all.

"Maybe," was all he offered as a reply, when the girl suggested he bring his wife to the club. "Maybe."

As Johnny turned down the bump road, he found himself driving nearly ten miles below the speed limit. That was partly out of fear of messing up his car by hitting one of the many potholes too hard, but it was primarily because he didn't want to get into an accident and run off the road. As they made their way down the poorly maintained street, Johnny's eyes hardly remained on the road in front of him. He instead kept his head turned ever so slightly to the right, his eyes craned as far in that direction as they could go so that he could watch the young girl's chest bounce. Every few seconds, he'd quickly glance up at the windshield just to make sure that they were still heading in a straight line before his eyes focused back onto Mara, scanning along the hem of her skirt for a potential peek at her panties. More than once, he had to quickly yank on the steering wheel after realizing that they were beginning to drift off to the shoulder or into the opposite lane.

Johnny noted when the teen shifted her hips, now sitting in a peculiar position. Was she...? He had some thoughts about what she may have been doing, sitting like that, but he dismissed them as his own, perverted imagination. As for him, he kept his hand cupped tightly against the tent that had formed in the fabric, his cock now straining against the material. This was getting to be too much for him.

Thankfully, Eucalyptus was the next turn. "Here we are," he finally spoke up again, slowing his car to a crawl so that Mara could pick out her house. "I'll see you on Monday; have a nice weekend. And next time, try to get to the bus stop a little bit earlier," he teased. Stealing one last peek at the two dark, wet little points at her chest, he quickly lifted his gaze up to her face, giving her a friendly smile.

 

[Madam Mim]

She could feel his eyes on him as they bumped down the road. Between the knowledge that she was so obviously turning him on and the feeling of the road it was all Mara could do not to close her eyes in pleasure. Finally they turned onto Eucalyptus and she directed him to her family's modest but tidy bungalow. The middle-class neighborhood was on a cul-de-sac which hid as many secrets as Mara herself did, but she wasn't going to tell him that. Instead once they pulled up the carless drive she rifled through her bag.

"Oh...dammit!" She shook her head and gripped her hair. "I forgot my key this morning. I was running late so I forgot half my stuff. My stepdad just went to work like an hour ago and my mom won't be home for another hour and a half." Mara sighed and leaned her head against the seat. Frank would be asleep on the couch with a beer in his hand and her mother ought to be on her way home. She looked over at Mr. Silverstone with her pathetic puppy eyes. "Would you mind waiting, see if I can get in?"

Without giving him a chance to answer she slipped out of the car and jogged up to the front porch. Under the mat was the spare key, just as there was a key in her backpack. With a motion to her teacher she jogged around to the back of the house. In the flower pot was another key. While she was in the back yard she used a small pair of shears to snip off the top button of her blouse, making the already low-cut shirt look as though it had broken a button. She leaned against the wall briefly, touching herself, imagining what might happen if John Silverstone had followed her around to the back of the house and seen her like this. Mara didn't allow herself to reach climax but instead jogged back to the car and slid back in, what little drying she'd done now completely undone by the rain.

"Ugh! I think my stepdad took the spare key!" she informed him. "All the windows on the ground floor are locked. That's my room," she pointed to the windows over the garage of the split-level, "but obviously there's no way for me to get up there. I'm sorry Mr. S...would you mind dropping me at a gas station or something so I can at least be dry while I wait? Or have a pay phone or something?" Again those big brown puppy eyes.

 

[Johnny Silverstone]

Pulling up into the driveway, Johnny put his car in park and waited for Mara to exit. He glanced up at the house in front of him as she searched for her key, glancing at each of the windows. This was the first time he'd ever actually gone to a student's house before. It was odd, getting a perspective of one of his students' personal lives like this. But then again, he'd already seen a much more personal side to Mara--one that he'd never get from simply looking at her house.

Hearing that she'd forgotten her key, he gave a nod before she took off, exiting the car and running up to the porch. "Find your spare key," he muttered to himself as he watched her lift the doormat. No luck. Eyes remained on her as she rounded her house, disappearing behind it for a short time. "Find your spare key," he kept murmuring, praying that she'd be able to get inside and he could go home. "Find your spare key." Leaning back against his seat, his eyes studied the front windows of her house again while he waited for her to reappear. In one of the front windows--one that led to the living room, he imagined--he thought he could see the faintest occasional flicker of light, as if there was a television on. Odd.

When she finally returned, he watched her run towards his car. Even through the pouring rain, he could see her chest bouncing with each step she took. Her cleavage seemed even more exposed that it had been, leaving even less to his imagination. When she slid back into the passenger's seat, his focus shifted towards the room above the attic as she explained her situation.

With a sigh, he tapped on his steering wheel. "Well, I can't just leave you at a gas station..." he murmured, thinking aloud. Where else could he take her, then? Back to the school? No. There was really just one place he could take her, and taking her there would definitely be a mistake. But the more he thought about it, the more he was sure that he had no choice. At least, that's what he kept telling himself. Shifting the car into reverse, he began to roll out of the girl's driveway.

"All right, here's what we're going to do. We're going to go back to my house for an hour or so, maybe try to find some dry clothes for you, and then I'll take you back here once one of your parents are back home. Sound good?"

To be honest, it didn't sound that good to him. The last thing he needed was a kid from school in his home--especially this one. Luckily, though, Sarah would still be at work for another hour or so. If he timed things right, nobody would ever have to know about any of this.

 

[Madam Mim]

Mr. Silverstone explained his plan and Mara smiled, letting out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Mr. S," she said with gratitude. "I didn't want to be presumptuous or anything, and I know you could get in trouble for it if someone got the wrong idea. Promise I won't tell anyone."

On the way to his house her skirt found its way back up her thighs to its previous position and her shirt was somehow tugged a little lower. Even with the seatbelt between them her breasts strained against the fabric and nearly popped out of the shirt. Mara wore a silver chain around her neck but the charm itself was lost in the depths of her cleavage. One day, hopefully soon, she fully intended to make John Silverstone beg for a taste of her breasts, and he'd enjoy begging for it. Finally they pulled up to his home and Mara followed him inside.

"This is a really nice place, Mr. S." She stood just inside the door to slide off her wet, muddy shoes before leaning over and peeling off her thigh high socks to reveal shapely calves and strong, supple thighs all cleanly shaven. "Sorry, I just wanna drip as little as possible all over your nice carpet with how wet I am. Thank you for letting me come inside." She smiled sheepishly, wiping her bare feet on the welcome mat before stepping into the living room though she didn't sit anywhere just yet. It was rude to get peoples' furniture damp, after all.

"Maybe I can borrow a robe, throw my clothes in the drier?" she suggested. "This was really nice of you Mr. S, I really appreciate it. Our little secret, I promise." Mara laid her index finger against her lips and smiled mischievously before her eyes landed on a picture of him with a smiling blonde hanging on his arm. "Is this Sarah? She looks...nice."

 

[Johnny Silverstone]

The ride back to his house wasn't much different than the ride to Mara's. His gaze inevitably gravitated towards the girl, taking in the sight of those plump mounds on her chest, and the ever-growing band of exposed thigh between her socks and her skirt as the hem was gradually raised.

Before long, they were back at his and his wife's house--a charming, well-kept two-story home in a neighborhood not too far from Mara's. Quickly dashing from the car, parked in the driveway, to the front door, Johnny opened it up, entering first before kicking off his shoes at the door.

Turning, Johnny stood still and watched those wet socks get slipped off the girl's slender legs, revealing him with even more of her skin. It was odd--even though she was pulling clothing off in front of him, Johnny felt more exposed than Mara might've. Here she was, standing in his house. His own private living quarters. Johnny was the kind of person who liked to keep his home life separate from his work life. There wasn't so much as a personal photo on his desktop. But here, it was all out in the open: the sofa and loveseat, with their ugly, 10-year-old floral upholstery; the cluttered, unorganized bookshelves; the countless little assorted trinkets that Johnny and Sarah had collected in their travels, now sitting on one shelf or another. Here was his life, out in the open.

"Our little secret, yes," he murmured back to Mara. This was--what--the third, fourth 'little secret' involving her that he now had? He didn't want anymore.

"Hm?" his attention turned to the picture Mara was referring to. "Yeah, that's Sarah," he replied--and then abruptly felt a twinge of insecurity from the way Mara said 'nice.' "Well. It's not a very good picture of her. The lighting is all..." he trailed off, waving his hand in the air as he stumbled to defend his wife's looks from this high school girl. "Just...wait here."

Disappearing around the corner, Johnny walked into the small laundry room, next to the kitchen. Inside were his and his wife's washer and dryer, as well as a drying rack, a few hooks hanging from the wall, and a couple of stacks of his and her laundry, neatly folded but not yet taken upstairs to their closet. He knew that his robe was in here somewhere, remembering that he'd just washed it. Finding it on the table, he unfolded it, and held it up. It was a thick, frumpy white robe made of bulky terrycloth. It was long, extending to his mid-calves, meaning that it would probably drag a bit on the floor if Mara were to wear it.

It was just then that his eye caught something hanging on one of the hooks. The only other robe in the house--Sarah's. In contrast to his, it was made of thin, grey silk. The two flowing ends were held together with a sash, and the material only extended down to just above his wife's knee. It wasn't exactly lingerie, but it certainly left much less to the imagination that his robe. Taking it off the hook, he held it up, and then looked down at the terrycloth one on the table. Johnny was faced with a choice that should have been quite easy to make: he could do the responsible, rational thing and give her his own robe, or...

"Here you go," he handed the article to Mara once he emerged from the room. "Just be careful with it; that's my wife's robe." His own had been hastily refolded and slid to the back of the table. "You can change in the laundry room, just around the corner. Pop your clothes in the dryer, and just turn the knob."

 

[Madam Mim]

It was cute the way he tried to defend his wife. Of course she'd intentionally put him on the defensive with implied deficiencies in his wife's looks but her eyes widened as though she'd been misunderstood. Mara shook her head.

"Oh no I didn't mean...I'm sorry, that probably sounded really rude. I meant nice as in nice." She nodded, regaining a reassuring smile. "Really, Mr. S. She's really pretty and she looks like a nice person."

Mara waited patiently while Mr. Silverstone disappeared into the laundry room. When he came back she nearly smiled; surely he had his own robe he could've given her which would have been less revealing. She took the robe with a grateful look and stepped through the kitchen into the laundry room where she left the door ajar but not wide-open. Hanging the robe on a hook she quickly stripped out of her wet clothes, tossing first her shirt then skirt into the dryer. Although by now her panties would have been soaked anyway, the rain had made it necessary that she toss these in as well. Slipping into the soft robe--which really was of good quality--she scurried back out to grab her socks (bending over to grab them) and toss those into the dryer as well. Finally she started it and stepped out, closing the door behind her and walking back to the living room with her hair still wet and mussed.

Unintentional grace was always seductive. Mara had learned this from several years experience as well as some coaching from a twenty-six-year-old photographer who had used her as a "model" two years ago. She had learned to walk as though she didn't know that she was graceful, to smile and laugh as though she didn't know she was charming. Now in a silk robe--his wife's robe--and nothing else with hair that looked as though she'd just stepped from the shower Mara stepped across Mr. Silverstone's living room and sat on his loveseat, crossing her legs, all with that unstudied, unintentional grace. She turned her large, dark eyes expectantly to him and smiled.

"You've got a really nice home, Mr. S," she said with genuine delight. With the exception of the floral print it was a lovely home. She was looking forward to spending more time in it in the future. "How long've you been married?" She shifted her leg so the hem of the robe exposed some of her flank; not much, only enough to reveal that she was sitting on his couch without panties and that she hadn't tucked the robe under her when she'd sat.

 

[Johnny Silverstone]

Walking into the kitchen as Mara entered the laundry room, Johnny grabbed the tea kettle off of the stove and held it beneath the faucet, filling it up partway before placing it back on one of the burners and lighting. Reaching into the cupboard for two ceramic mugs, he glanced to the laundry room, seeing the reasonably wide crack between the door and the doorframe. He thought to speak up and tell her that the door was slightly ajar, but upon catching a glimpse of her bare skin through that thin crack, he kept his mouth shut. Standing there by the counter, he watched, trying to make out exactly what he was seeing, considering that he was only seeing a small portion of it. Part of her arm, a flash of her bare thigh…And then, without warning, the door swung open. Johnny’s eyes widened a bit in surprise, and he nearly dropped the mugs in his hand.

There she stood, right in front of him, wearing his wife’s silk robe. Gliding across the living room floor, as if both she and the robe were made of liquid. Such nonchalant grace, such youthful beauty. God, he hated to admit it, but Mara looked so much better in that robe than Sarah. Behind him, the kettle began to whistle.

Deciding that he’d been standing there gawking for long enough, he lowered the mugs to the countertop, quickly dropped a teabag in each, removed the kettle from the stovetop, and split its contents between the two cups.

“Thanks,” he said with a polite smile as he brought the two glasses of tea into the living room. “Here. This should help warm you up,” he offered her the drink and took his over to the sofa, plopping down onto it before the growing bulge in his chinos became all too apparent. He did so just in time for Mara to reveal just enough skin to hint at what was beneath that robe—or, more appropriately, what wasn’t beneath it. And the way her bare thighs were resting on the cushion, suggesting that something else was pressed down onto it, too… Johnny had never felt jealous of a couch before. Not until that afternoon.

Finally, his eyes bobbed back up to Mara’s. She was giving him an expectant look, as though she’d just asked him…something. But what was—oh, right, right, how long he’d been married to Sarah. “Oh. Three months at the end of the year—err, no. That's not right.” He was very obviously flustered. “Three years at the end of the month.” He spoke that last sentence very slowly, careful not to trip over it again. Nervously, he took a sip of tea, and glanced up at the clock on the wall opposite to him. It was 5:30; Sarah would be home in a half hour or so. “When did you say that your parents would be back home?”

 

[Madam Mim]

"Oh that's right, I'm sorry. You said that already."

Mara chuckled and sat back on the couch, one foot on the ground and the other leg crossed over her knee and now she bounced her foot up and down a little, teasing at what he couldn't see. She had seen him looking at her, had seen the look in his eye and the light flush creep up his neck. His arousal had subsided while she was "looking" for the spare key to her house, but now the way he sat indicated his not-so-little problem had returned. Excellent. She supposed she could have had him right here, today, if the bitch weren't going to probably be home soon. But then were would the fun in that be?

"Hmm? Oh..." She looked at the clock as well. "My mom should be home in like an hour. Frank works an overnight shift so he just left a bit ago. I've got time." Mara took a sip of her tea and closed her eyes, letting it warm her from the inside. It gave her goosebumps and her hard nipples only pressed more insistently against the silk with a pleasant sort of friction.

"Mmmm..." she moaned, allowing her teacher to make of that what she would. "You were right, Mr. Silverstone, the tea warmed me right up." She smiled over the rim of her mug as though unaware of what she might be doing to him. "It's good tea, by the way. There's this teahouse over on 3rd Street, the Mad Hatter, have you been? They've got some awesome varieties and the shop itself is really cute. I try to get by there at least once a month." She watched his eyes, wondering if he was yet at a point where he would take the bait. A teashop wasn't a sexed-up boozy club, after all, and there was always time to "run into each other" if they didn't meet there intentionally for some extra help on the assignments.

 

[Johnny Silverstone]

His erection may not have been directly visible, but the pose that Johnny took on the couch all but screamed that he was hiding something in the front of his pants. Legs crossed over one another, upper body leaning inward, one arm resting in his lap. And even in that condition, he found himself continuing to sneak glances at the bare, smooth skin of the girl's thighs. It was his own fault for giving her that robe to wear.


When she told him about the earlier time that her parents would be home, Johnny nodded, trying his best to conceal his grimace. He did just as good a job of that as he'd done hiding his erection, however. The last thing that Johnny needed was his wife crossing paths with his girl. Especially considering what she was dressed in. But, he'd just have to cross that bridge when he got to it, he supposed.

"The Mad Hatter," he repeated the name back to her, giving a small shrug. "I've never heard of it. I'll have to check it out sometime. Sarah and I are big tea drinkers." A tea shop seemed like a much safer recommendation than a nightclub. He also appeared a bit less hesitant about the prospect of running into her there. Though, truthfully, that may have just been because he hadn't given it very much thought. Most of his attention was, once again, being paid to Mara's body. This time, as he spoke, his eyes drifted down to her chest, seeing her nipples poking against the thin, silky material. He'd already gotten a nice view of her chest in that soaked blouse earlier, but for whatever reason, there was something about seeing her in his own wife's clothing that seemed so much more...wrong, and taboo. Especially the fact that the robe was all that Mara wore.

 

[Madam Mim]

"Yeah so'm I. Never been one much for coffee."

And he apparently wasn't one much for talking, not with the state he was in. Finally there was no plausible way to avoid his staring at her. He really wasn't very subtle, was he? Uncrossing her legs, Mara leaned against the arm of the couch and sat with both feet on the floor and her knees angled towards him, slightly apart though not enough for him to actually see anything.

"This is a really nice robe," she mentioned casually, feeling the fabric between her thumb and forefinger. "What is it, satin?" Mara knew perfectly well it was silk, but it was a way to continue conversation without openly acknowledging what they both knew. Whether he knew she knew and whether he realized he knew it himself, however, were two entirely different matters.

With her drink in one hand, with the other she played idly with her hair as she watched him. The slippery silk tie had loosened and was beginning to come undone, causing the robe to open a little, but she pretended she didn't notice. She could only imagine her English teacher getting fed up with the games, ripping the robe off and taking her right there on the couch--probably one of the very few times she'd allow him to dominate her--and the bitch wife walking in, having to watch her husband fuck his young, sexy student in their own home in front of her. The thought made her wet and it gave her a vicious, vindictive sort of pleasure to know she was wet in his wife's robe, imagining her husband fucking her. It'd be even better if he did it in their bed. She took note of the mental image that conjured and made it a goal to make that happen.

 

[Johnny Silverstone]

"It's silk," Johnny answered her, his eyes only connecting with hers for a moment before they drifted back down to her body. There was hardly anything subtle about the way he was looking at her now. "I got it for Sarah a couple of years ago, for--" It was slipping open, he could see it happening. The two sides of the robe parting a bit. His eyes danced around her chest, taking in the sight of the teen's exposed cleavage. "For my birthday," he continued his thought, barely aware of what he was saying. His eyes trailed back up to Mara's, and he realized his mistake. "Her birthday. I got it for her birthday." A single, nervous laugh punctuated the thought. God, he was a wreck. Uncrossing his legs, he tugged at the fabric of his pants, just as he'd done in the car, trying to flatten the tent that had been created. It was an impossible task, he knew, with her sitting there, half-exposed in that robe. A student, Johnny had to keep reminding himself. She's one of my students. Still, that wasn't enough to stop himself from imagining what it must have felt like to run his hands along her bare thighs. They looked like they were even softer than the silk robe that draped over them.

 

[Madam Mim]

He was adorable, pretending it wasn't obvious he was oggling her. It really was quite sweet. Mara watched him watching her and when he uncrossed his legs his erection was obvious. She allowed him to see her stare at his lap, shift her hips a little, bite her lower lip, then bring her eyes back up to his quickly. It was only a few moments but it was enough to show that she returned interest. That would only make it tougher on him, she realized, which was just what she wanted. She wanted to stretch his resolve, to push it to the breaking point then to shatter it entirely. She could imagine him sitting back into the soft couch while she straddled him and rode his thick cock. God how the thought made her ache!

"So when's your birthday then?" Mara's eyes flicked downward one more time, briefer than before, before returning to his eyes as she continued to make conversation. If his birthday was soon she may have to give up the game a little more quickly; she was positive she could give much better birthday sex than Sarah ever had. Once he answered she filed the information away for later then took control of the conversation again.

"Mr. S I've been thinking...I mean, I know I'm not the best at essay writing, and with this book I feel like I'm struggling even more." Mara was quite a good student, particularly in English and the arts classes, and had no problem with essays whatsoever. They both knew this. "I know you can't help me on the essay you set this week per se, but I mean...couldn't we meet after class some time? You could give me tips on essay writing; how to extend its length, coming to a conclusion, stuff like that. It shouldn't be harder than it needs to right?"

She chose her words carefully, words which might have related to his current predicament without seeming out of place in her casual conversation. As she spoke Mara's eyes kept drifting to the hard cock he was trying to hide just as obviously as he was undressing her with his eyes. He was so hard and so desperately trying to conceal it...It would be fun, she decided, to try and make him cum without touching him, without so much as getting naked for him, before his wife came home. And if he came without even touching himself all the better. She couldn't help but lick her lip at the idea of making him cum without touching him or him touching himself; she bet Sarah could never do that, stupid cunt. Plain bitch didn't deserve a stallion like John Silverstone. Mara spread her knees just a little bit more, enough for a visible gap though the robe still hid the prize. The tie sat in the loosest of knots near her navel and the robe itself spread open in a v-shape, closing around her lap but leaving her bellybutton visible and the gap gradually widening from there until nearly a quarter of the side of each breast was visible. Mara, of course, pretended not to notice.

"Hey, sir...Do you happen to have a hair dryer? My hair shouldn't stay wet very long." She reached up to paw at it gingerly, shifting the robe to expose more skin though still nothing that could be considered proper "nudity."