Lana is working late tonight. Lana is a math teacher at a local high school. She needed the job and it would help pay off her student loans. She don’t like to stay here past dark for any reason. Tonight, she had stayed later than normal to assist a student with their homework. She never begrudged a student help if they needed it. As she started packing her bag up with students’ work from the day, She noticed someone standing in the open doorway of her classroom.

I’m six feet tall and well-muscled. I’m dressed in a taylored suit. I’m staring at her like I was sizing her up. She supposed it’s not entirely uncommon, but I seemed to be looking her over a little too blatantly. She had to admit, that she actually loved the idea of being “hot teacher.” She had a tendency to dress sexily, yet conservatively. So, even though my skirt is below my knees, it hugs my hips and ass nicely. And even though her blouse is buttoned high, her breasts stretch the material tight. There’s nothing particularly sexy about her shoes, though, since she choose the simple black pumps for comfort more than anything.

Beyond that, she likes to feel sexy under my clothes, too. Her black nylons, for instances, are actually thigh-highs and she likes to wear black lacy thongs and bras. She loves taking her clothes off at home and admiring her curvy figure in the mirror, all that black lace against pale flesh. At measurements of 36-28-39, 5’8.25” and C tits, she has a sexy body to admire. Her blonde hair, when it’s undone like today, goes down past her shoulders.

“Can I help you with something?” she asks the older man. He isn’t a student, what is he doing here? “Maybe,” I say in a deep voice as I walk into the room and close the door. “Um, actually, I have to leave the door open when I’m in here with a student,” She tells me, standing up behind her desk. She starts to move to the door so that she can re-open it and I step into her way. She almost runs into my broad chest before taking an unsteady step back as she overbalances on her heels. I step forward and she backs up again to keep distances between us. “Uh, excuse me?” she says in confusion. I step forward again and she feels her desk press against her legs.

She ends up with her butt on the desk, pressing her hand to my chest, as I step forward again. I grab her wrist and pull her arm down to her side and now she is really annoyed. She should have been worried. “What are you doing?! Let me go!” she tells me, her eyebrows furrowing in anger. she slides off the desk and tries to move past me, but I still have her wrist and won’t let go. she tries to twist her wrist from my grasp, but I manage to hold on. “Let me go!” she tells me again, trying to pull away from me.

She manages to slip my grasp, my fingers digging bruises into her wrist. She glares at me for a moment before moving back towards the door. Then, I suddenly slam her against the wall with a force that knocks the wind out of her. I grip her upper arms and turn her until her back is against the wall. I
shove my body against her so that she can feel the line of me against her. Her breasts compressed against my chest as I press my mouth to hers. She stares at my face in shock as my mouth moves against hers. She just holds still as my tongue enters her mouth, and she actually has to fight not to kiss me in response. It’s just habit: she gets kissed; she kisses back. A bit belatedly, she starts pushing at me, trying to raise her arms past my hold.

My fingers dig into her arms and press them more tightly to her sides. She moans with pain,” ouch! oohhh!” and something occurs to her. She bites down hard on my tongue. I pull back with a yell, ” DAMN!” glaring at her like I can’t believe she did that.