I woke up feeling groggy, like I hadn't got enough sleep. But it was my alarm waking me up and I'd gone to bed on time.  I rubbed sleep from the corners of my eyes and staggered to my feet. I felt sore and achy all over and thought I'd had some strange dreams, but couldn't quite place them

It was as I took my first steps towards the bathroom and a much-needed pee, that I noticed my bottom being sore. It was a feeling I'd never quite experienced before and I couldn't quite place it, either.  I stepped gingerly towards the bathroom, across the hall from my bedroom, and could hear mom already up and making breakfast in the kitchen.

When I sat on the edge of the toilet seat, my butt cheeks spread slightly, as they always do, but this time it made me wince.  I peed a little and tried to push with my sphincter, but nothing came, at first. Then it was followed by a soft, slow almost slimy feeling, before the regular pressure I was used to.

I finished my deed and wiped myself, twitching a little at the pain as I wiped the back hole.

I pulled up my panties and wandered into the kitchen, unsure of how to explain to mom what I was feeling.

"Mom... my uhh, my butt feels kinda funny this morning?" I said, with a quizzical look on my face.

She didn't even glance up from the sandwich she was making for my lunch. "Oh, I'm sure it's nothing, hun. We had spicy food for dinner, it can irritate your whole GI tract. Maybe next time we'll be sure to have yoghurt for dessert afterwards to help it along.  If it's still sore tomorrow, let me know and I'll make you a doctor's appointment.  Now go get dressed, or you'll be late for school!"

I shrugged and accepted her answer, although this didn't feel like the normal post-taco night soreness.

I walked back into my bedroom and carefully chose my outfit for the day. We had a supply teacher today and I secretly hoped it would be Mr. Walker. He'd been with our class several times already this year and all the girls had crushes on him.  He was so tall, and sweet, and when he smiled at you it was like he had eyes for only you.  But best of all was when he would come to your desk to help you with something, and he's lean over your work, placing his hand on your shoulder or back, rubbing it slightly. He smelled so good and his touch always made me wet in my panties.  Once, when I'd gone up to his desk for help with a math problem, he'd even placed his large hand on my bottom. It was a quick congratulatory pat, when I'd finally gotten the problem solved, but even though it was only for a moment, it had seemed to linger and his index finger had almost caressed right between the crease of my bum cheeks. I felt tingles the whole walk back to my own desk. I know my face flushed, because Izzy had asked me at recess why I was so red.  When I told her, she was SO jealous.

First things, first. I had just started wearing training bras. Mom had taken me down to get measured and sized and now I had four bras, two white, one pale blue and one pale pink.  This morning I wore one of the white ones and pulled on a pair of matching white panties, with a little pink bow at the front. I always wondered who they put that bow there for -- it wasn't like I cared, and who the heck else would be seeing it?

We didn't have gym today, so I opted for a skirt. A little plaid, pleated skirt. My mom told me that some kids went to private school and had to wear these every day. She said they hated them, but I couldn't understand how. I loved wearing them. I had them in three different colours. Today I wore the black and pink tartan. 

I chose my favourite t-shirt, a black one with ruffles at the edge of the shoulders and big bold pink letters on the front that said "Rock Star". I tugged on a pair of knee-high white socks and crossed back to the bathroom, where I divided my hair in two down the middle, pulling each side up into a tight knot against my head. I loved the way it almost looked like teddy-bear ears.  I brushed my teeth and tucked my favourite lip-smackers into my skirt's one tiny pocket -- it was cherry-Coke flavoured.

When I got back to the kitchen, my mom handed me a sandwich bag with buttered toast in it, telling me I could eat it on the way, as I was running late; she patted my bottom and ushered me along faster. I grabbed my lunch bag, zipped it into my backpack and headed for the front door, where I carefully sat on the bench to pull on my boots. These were a prized possession of mine. They were black faux swede and came up almost as high as my knee-high socks. They had flat soles, so I could run just fine at recess, but they made me feel all grown up.  I flung my backpack onto my back and stuck a piece of toast in my mouth as I went out the front door, calling goodbye to my mom as I went.

When I got to the front lobby, my best friend Izzy was still waiting for me. She rolled her eyes and laughed "Late, as usual, eh Rach?"

I swallowed my toast and apologized to her as we headed towards the back doors and our long walk to school.  

"You look really cute today," Izzy said to me.

I took a moment and looked my friend over from head to toe. She had short, curly red hair, parted on the side, with a small pink clip holding it back. I'd always envied her crystal green eyes. They seemed so exotic compared to my dark brown ones. And her freckles!  I remembered reading a book when I was younger, about a boy who wanted freckles in the worst way. He'd even made a gross-sounding juice that was supposed to bring them on.  Well Izzy would never need to use that juice -- she had freckles in droves. Sometimes I wished she could share just half of them with me, and we'd both still have enough!  Today she was wearing a really cute pale green corduroy jumper, and a t-shirt in a soft pink. She, too, had knee-socks on, only she was wearing her favourite high-top sparkly pink Converse All-Stars.  I had a pair of those, too, but mine were blue.

"Gee, thanks, Iz. I love your outfit! Were you hoping we'd have Mr. Walker, too?" I asked, looking up and catching her eye.

Izzy smiled and blushed at the same time.  We were besties and we shared everything. She laughed loud as she said, "You know darn well I was hoping for that, Rachel! We talked about it on Skype just two days ago, when we heard about the supply teacher today!"

I laughed, too, hardly able to contain my excitement.

We chatted some more, about boys and tv shows for the rest of the walk. I didn't think much about my bum while we were talking, but occasionally as we walked I could feel a slight bit of pain that made me wonder when it would stop.  When we got to the school it was all we could do to get to our lockers and stuff our backpacks in before we rushed off to our third grade classroom.

Today we would not be disappointed.  

There, behind our teacher's desk, sat the tall Mr. Walker, his long legs folded neatly under the desk and his head bent forward, as he wrote out some notes.  He was as old as Izzy's dad, for sure. He was even balding just so slightly on the top of his head. But we didn't care. When he looked up as we entered the room, his smile was enough to make me feel warm all over.

Izzy reached out and squeezed my hand, before we parted ways. She didn't sit in my group of desks, hers was over on the other side of the room. Our teacher said we never got any work done when we sat in the same group. She was probably right!

As I sat down at my desk, Mr. Walker went to the front of the room, waiting quietly while all the other kids filtered into the room and took their seats.  The hard plastic of my school chair started to irritate me almost immediately.  I squirmed, trying to find a comfortable position that didn't make my bottom feel so achy. 
When I sat slouched down in my chair, with my butt just on the edge, I was putting less pressure directly on the parts that hurt, and this seemed to work out alright.
The only thing I didn't think about right away was that my group of desks was the smallest in the class. All the other groups were made of 4 desks, but mine was just three. My desk was off to the side without another desk in front of it. 

Soon it occurred to me that with the way I was sitting, if I parted my legs, Mr. Walker would get a clear view of my white panties.  At first I thought this would be a bad thing. But as my mind wandered, I was paying less attention to the words the supply teacher said, and more attention to the way his body moved.  I found myself almost mesmerized by his hands. Slowly, I parted my little legs, first just at the knee, but then all the way up, my thighs open so I could feel a slight draft from the hallway on my crotch.

I wasn't sure, but I thought I caught Mr. Walker glancing at me. He seemed to look away quickly and swallow real deep.  Then he turned and asked one of the boys in my group a question and I could just tell he wasn't really looking at the boy, he was looking under my desk. He was looking at my panties! 

I started to tingle all over and I knew that if I did that for long, he would be able to see the dark patch in the middle where my panties started to get wet. I was tempted to close my legs, but something in me made me open them wider. At this, Mr. Walker glanced up and looked at me right in the eye. I don't know where I got the nerve, but I winked! I really, truly winked at my teacher after he had just been caught by me, looking at my panties.

I don't know how every other student in the class didn't know what was going on. But there didn't seem to be any weird reactions from anyone else in the class, even Izzy seemed entirely clueless to what was going on between my legs.

And boy, what was going on between my legs felt like an inferno. The entire panel at the middle of my panties was soaked through with my little girl juices. I didn't know it at the time, but these were pretty cheap panties -- my mom was a single mom, on a budget after all. The panel in the middle was only a single layer of fabric and by becoming so wet, and being stretched by my position, they weren't quite see-through, but they clung to every contour of my little girl slit and they left almost nothing to the imagination.  I almost couldn't help myself. Finally, I pretended I was scratching an itch and I reached down between my legs, to quickly touch my fingertip to my special bump.  I didn't yet know it was my clit, but that knowledge was coming very soon.

Mr. Walker saw every motion I made. He turned the class on to lesson for the morning and with his clipboard held in front of himself, walked back to his desk.

The entire class was oblivious to what was going on between us.

I pulled out my notebook and tried to concentrate on the lesson.  It was a losing battle.

My little slit wanted all of my attention.  I forgot about the pain in my bum, and sat back up properly, only for the pain to return.  But this time, it wasn't unwanted. Somehow the small sting in my bum made the fire in my slit grow stronger.  I tried to be subtle as I rocked myself into my seat, first pushing against my slit and then bottom.  Soon I was afraid I couldn't be subtle any more.  I thrust my hand up into the air and when Mr. Walker called on me by name, I asked if I could go to the washroom.  He consented and I shot out of my seat like an electric shock.

The girls washroom was just across the hall from our classroom. I rushed into the first stall and fumbled to lock the door behind me.  Once I sat down, all was lost. My panties were now around my ankles and my little fingers found themselves in an all too familiar rhythm. I stroked my special button just the way I knew how and suddenly my body started jerking of its own accord, as I felt waves of pleasure like I'd never felt before.  This time, "finishing" was so much more! Normally I'd play with myself until I reached a level of completion, knowing it felt good, but it was over with. This time was different. This time I saw stars and thought I might pass out, my breath coming in jagged gulps. 

"Wow!" I said out loud, regretting it moments later, before I realized no one else was in the room.

I pulled my panties back up, feeling them cold and sticky against my hot flesh.  I could smell myself and wondered if anyone else would notice.  I went out to the sink and washed my fingers vigorously with soap, hoping the extra scent would cover-up what I could smell of me.

I used a little cold water to splash on my face, then applied a thin layer of my lipsmackers, hoping to be pretty enough for my teacher's attention, and returned to the classroom, where Mr. Walker gave me an almost knowing smile.  Did he know what I'd just done in the girls room? I wasn't sure if this embarrassed me or excited me.

I went back to my desk, now finding it a little easier to focus on the lesson.

At lunch time, the teacher always chose one student to remain behind and help wipe the boards off before the afternoon class.  My heart beat like a hammer inside my chest when Mr. Walker said my name.

"Rachel, would you stay behind and clear the boards today?"

"Yes, Mr. Walker," I did my very best not to stutter.  If looks could kill, Izzy's first look that she shot at me would have, but besties are besties no matter what, and she smiled and gave me a little thumbs-up symbol before she filed out of the room with the rest of the students, headed for the lunch room upstairs.  During lunch there was no one on the main floor.

Mr. Walker closed the door after the last of my classmates exited the room. With all the school catastrophes that had befallen the nation over the past few years, all of the classroom doors has been replaced with windowless versions. And all the windows were one-way, the outsides reflective like mirrors.  As Mr. Walker turned the lock on the door, I knew we were truly alone.

This time it was my turn to gulp with nerves.

"Come over to my desk a minute please, Rachel," his voice was kind. I shouldn't be worried. I wasn't worried. I was one raw nerve from the tip of my nose to the bottoms of my feet.

He sat in his chair and when I stood beside him, he patted the edge of his desk, insinuating I should sit on it. When I did, my thighs were higher than his, my knees were level with his stomach and when I sat, my skirt fell to the side, revealing much of my upper leg to his eyes.  I watched as his gaze fell to my legs.

"You were quite the little exhibitionist this morning, Rachel. Do you know what that means?" he asked.

"I .. I th.. I think so," I stammered in response.

"Oh you do, do you? So it was on purpose, your little show?" His gaze returned to my face, looking into my eyes.  I could see that his confident words were the show right now. I could see it in his eyes. His eyes were questioning mine, to see if he should continue. His eyes were asking my permission.  I knew, somehow, that while he was the one who was the adult and he was the one who seemed to be calling all the shots, in that moment it was really me who was in control.  I knew what I needed to do, and I nodded, both with my head and somehow also with my eyes.

That was all it took.  His hand slowly reached forward and he placed it on my knee, just above my sock.  His thumb brushed against my skin and I felt the tingles returning.  I looked down at his hand and then back up at his face, where he had been watching me the whole time. I nodded again.  I didn't need to speak. He knew I was giving my consent.

Mr. Walker glanced over at the classroom door, as if needing to reassure himself that it was still locked. And then he brought his other hand up to my other leg. He began slowly kneading the flesh of my inner thighs with both hands.

"Has anyone ever touched you like this before?" he asked me.

I shook my head no.

"Do you want me to keep touching you?" he asked, as though I hadn't already let him know it was okay.  He needed to hear me say it.  He wasn't going to force me.

My little pink tongue flicked out and I moistened my over-dry lips, before I could speak, simply saying one word: "Yes."

With that, he flicked my skirt up onto my waist and there before him were my white panties. The crotch was still a little damp from earlier, and now I'd added more wetness to them. My thighs were spread and as his hands kneaded their way closer to my center, Mr. Walker let out a low, deep sound. It was almost animalistic, coming from another part of him. A part that wasn't my substitute teacher. A part that was all man.  It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and it made my tingles even stronger.

When his thumbs reached the fabric of my panties, he stopped for a moment.

"Can we remove these?" he asked, but wasn't really asking. His hands moved to the elastic at the waist and I instinctively raised my hips, holding myself up by my hands.  He tugged the material down, and I heard his intake of breath, while he watched the crotch panel snare itself against my wetness, before pulling free.  He pulled them down my thighs and off one foot, but left them dangling on my other foot. "In case you need them back on quickly," he answered my unasked question.

Now, with my little skirt flipped up, I was bare before him.

He gently pushed me further back on the desk and encouraged my legs apart.  I  looked down into his face as he watched my bald, little girl slit part with my legs.  I watched him taking it all in. My puffy little lips had never meant much to me before, but here was this grown man, fixated.

He reached his hands forward again and holding my thigh with one hand, he ran the thumb of his other hand from the bottom of my slit right up to the top, where he paused to add pressure and rub right against my special button.

"Do you play with this?" he asked.

I nodded.

"This is your clit," he said, ever the teacher.  He continued to rub it and I bit down on my lower lip, trying to stop the moan from escaping me. It never felt that good when I rubbed it.

"Lay back," he instructed. "Bring your ass to the edge of the desk."

I nervously complied, laying back across the papers on his desk.  With my bum at the edge, my legs quickly found themselves pushed back by him, so they were up and still on the desk, now in an almost frog-like position.  This opened my little slit, put it on display like I'd never been for anyone before.  I felt myself flush all over.  I planted the heels of my boots against the very edge of the desk, and as I did this I let a stifled squeal escape my mouth.

Mr. Walker had just licked my slit!

I looked down my near-flat chest and watched him.

His mouth was over my puffy little slit, and his tongue was out again. He licked first with the flat of his tongue, getting me wet from top to bottom, then he parted my lips more with his pointed tongue and flicked it into my hole, then back up to my clit, and then down all the way to my bum. I jumped a little at that and I guess he assumed I didn't like it, because he stayed away from my little bottom hole after that.

Mr. Walker licked my pussy all over and I did my best not to make too much noise or squirm too far away. He paid special attention to my clit, sucking it between his lips and flicking his tongue across it. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. I could hardly catch my breath and the feelings inside me were so intense.  I clutched my knees to my chest, pushing my crotch up further to meet his mouth. At one point he opened his mouth wide and sucked my whole pussy up into his mouth, driving his tongue into my hole. I thought I would scream!  And then he went back to licking my clit, pushing pressure down on it and that's when it happened.

I exploded!

I think I may actually have blacked out for a moment, because when I came to, Mr. Walker was standing at my feet and his pants were down.

I could see his cock.

It was the first real live cock I'd ever seen.

It was bigger than I expected. Redder and angrier than I'd expected, too.

I'd seen them on the internet, but they always seemed to glisten.

This cock had veins and a bush of hair at its root.  For a moment I was scared he might try to put it in me, or at the very least, he'd have me suck it. I didn't know if I wanted any of those things.

But I didn't have to worry.

He did rub the head of his cock up against my little pussy, covering it in my juices, but from the look in my eye he immediately said "Don't worry, I'm not going to penetrate you. You're too small, yet."

He pulled back, and with his hand rubbed my pussy juices all over his cock, and stroked it, groaning loudly.

"You're so pretty, Rachel. Your little bald baby pussy is so sweet. Just 9 years old, so innocent.... Oh ghawd, I'm not going to last long."

He moved forward again, still jerking his cock, touching the head against my slit when suddenly his cock seemed to swell, and it jerked and spat out a thick glob of white cum.  I knew exactly what that was.

His cock jerked several more times and he covered my slit completely with his white cream.

He put out his hand on the desk, steadying himself on his arm, so he didn't fall forward on to me, as he continued to rub his cockhead through his own cum and my pussy lips. He used his cock to smear his cum around on my soft mound.

"That is the best cum I've had in ..... well, ever." Mr. Walker said, looking up at me.  "Thank-you, Rachel.  I think it goes without saying that this stays between us?"

I nodded yet again, as he stood up and tucked his now cum-covered cock into his boxers and zipped himself back together. He helped me pull up my panties and when I went to reach for some tissue from the other side of the desk he said, "Don't. Please? Leave it there for me? You can wash it when you get home."

I thought it was a little gross, but I didn't know how to say no. So we pulled my panties into place together, and he patted the crotch into the wet mess.  He flipped my skirt down and helped me off the desk, straightening papers as he went.

"You'd better clear those boards off and see if you can grab a couple bites of your lunch; the period is almost over," he said, all business-as-usual.

I could hardly believe what had happened between us was real. It was only the awkward way my panties were stuck up against my slit that let me know it hadn't just been in my imagination.  

As I walked over and began clearing the boards, I was running through the list of boys and men who I knew, trying to find one who I though I could get to do this to my little pussy for me again. And soon!