A few years ago, I taught history at King HIgh. It was a dull job; the principal had me on a choke chain, but there was one mitigating factor to that job, and it was Meghan, who had my fourth-period American History class. Meghan was fifteen, with the best body I had ever seen. She had glossy blonde hair that went just down to her shoulders. Her ass was round and pert, and her tits looked wonderful, especially when she wore tight T-shirts. Her skin was taut and smooth, and her body was athletic. She often wore tight, skinny jeans that emphasised that wonderful ass, as well as her calves. When no-one else was looking, I would stare at that tight little ass and those perfect tits from my desk. I imagined what it would be like to fuck her raw, or to lick all over that supple little body.

One lucky day, my dreams came true. After a long, tedious school day, Meghan walked over to my desk with a spring in her step. I knew that Meghan was probably going to ask me about the assignment I’d given her, or something similar, but I fantasised about much more interesting things. Running my tongue over her nipples, sucking them, fucking her tight little ass, fucking her young pussy, fondling that perfect body . . .
‘Mr Eddings? I need to talk to you for a second. It’s, um, kind of personal,’ she said, leaning over my desk. I tried in vain to stop staring at her cleavage. That shirt she had on was incredibly low-cut, and I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy the view I had.
‘Sure, that’s fine,’ I said, smiling.
‘Um, it’s..well, I think that this will sound really stupid, but I kind of, like, want to ask you something.’
‘There’s no such thing as a dumb question.