As a high school chemistry teacher Mr. Higginson knew how aggressive teenage girls could get, particularly with a decent-looking older man. The girls were just drawn to them for some reason. He figured it was something Freudian, something to do with father figures, but he didn't really know. He did know that he was a decent-looking guy, age 32, with a way of making the girls blush. 

He was also married with two little girls, so he had always deflected his students' many advances, overbearing and subtle. It was hard sometimes, and not just when his marriage was on a downswing, as it was that warm May. Some of those "girls" weren't girls at all, particularly the juniors and seniors. They were full women by almost every definition except perhaps the mind, in which they were still hormone-crazed pubescents. He imagined that some would screw him on his desk at lunch break at the snap of a finger. 

But he told himself to put those thoughts aside. A friend of his, an English teacher, was caught in the closet with a girl's basketball player three years after he was hired. Everyone condemned it and the man hasn't worked a day since, but deep down the male teachers empathized with him. They knew how hard it could be. And more than one of the guys envied the gutsy bastard a little bit. 

Mr. Higginson never expected that the girl who'd finally make him a sinner would be Connie. She was a petite Chinese girl, a senior, who was an excellent musician and smart but extremely repressed by her parents. She took a liking to Mr. Higginson's laid-back style and would talk to him before class about herself and her family. Once she stayed after school and talked to him in the hall, and cried. The poor girl's mother was very hard on her. 

Maybe it was the way Connie dressed -- or the way her mother commanded her to dress, with billowing sweatshirts and formless jeans -- but he never noticed the girl's basic good looks. She moved with easy strides, her hair was black and sleek, and her pretty, almond-shaped eyes oozed with emotions.   She had well-shaped hands and, if she were permitted to show so much skin, she displayed excellent feet. She also possessed the stereotypical reserved Asian manner, which meant she'd never issue one of the boisterous come-ons used by other girls. He regarded her completely asexually -- which is how it should be, he'd tell himself guiltily in lust-filled days hence -- but it turned out she had something else in mind. 

She lived near him. Now and then he'd see her being bustled past to piano lessons by one of her parents, roaring by in their station wagon. He'd raise a hand hello, and she'd smile back. One day he heard a car as he was walking inside and he looked to see the station wagon roar by. The passenger window was down, and a little hand emerged from the space, and the fingers waggled hello. 

So she knew where he lived. One day about a month before graduation he happened to mention in class that he was home alone for a week since his wife and kids were visiting family in Colorado. That night he went home, walked the dog, ate, and had just sat down to watch the playoffs when he heard a small knock at the door. At first he thougth it was the rain, but then it came again. He went and opened the door. There stood Connie, dripping wet. 

"I didn't know where else to go," she sniffled. 

"Come in! Come in!" He said, ushering her inside and closing the door behind her. The dog came up and sniffed her crotch. 

"Zeus! No!" Mr. H said, shooing the dog away into the laundry floor and shutting the door. He turned back to Connie, who stood dripping in the foyer. 

"What happened? What's the matter?" 

"Oh Mr. Higginson!" She sobbed, and hugged him so hard her sweatshirt squished, and water dribbled down his sweats. Confused, he patted her back gently, listening to her sob into his chest. Finally she pulled her head away. 

"Sorry," she sobbed, "I just had to get away from home." 

"That's okay!" He said. "Let me get you a towel and something to drink." 

He ran up for a towel and shouted back down the stairs. "You want a dry shirt?" 

"Yes please...." 

His daughters were too small so he got one of his wife's sweatshirts. He wondered how he'd explain that one, if his wife found a hair or something, but he shrugged. They were in the middle of yet another fight, and frankly he didn't care. 

He came downstairs and found Connie where he'd left her. It was getting dark outside. He handed her the shirt, and she went to change in the bathroom. When she came out he had a cup of green tea waiting for her. 

"You drink this?" She said, smiling. 

"I love it," he said. "Many things about The Far East intrigue me." 

She sat at the table in his wife's puffy sweatshirt. The neckline dropped and he caught a glimpse of her black bra strap. That was the first time he wondered about her even faintly. He wondered what her breast looked like. 

"My mother," Connie said, and paused. "She's wild tonight. She heard me talking on the phone to a boy. She totally flipped out. Said I'm going to ruin my life chasing boys." 

"Ruin your life?" Mr. H said. "Come on. You're young! A teenager! Teens fall in love! THat's what they do!" 

"I think my mother must have gotten pregnant with my brother before she was married," Connie said. "She always gets hazy on the details around the marriage and when he was born. The official story is that he was conceived on the honeymoon."

Mr. H laughed. "You know what they say. People fear in others what they see in themselves." 

"Yeah," Connie said, her ire rising. "All I was doing was talking to him, and she acted like she caught me in bed with him." 

A subtle jolt hit Mr. H's stomach. "Who is he?" 

"Jeremy Patterson," she said. "He's in band. He likes me. I don't know what I think about him." 

"Well, that's okay," Mr. H said. "I guess I'm on your side here. Hell, if it weren't for curiosity about the opposite sex, mankind wouldn't have survived!" 

She laughed and took a sip of tea. "I wonder how long before she calms down." 

"Won't she be looking for you?"

"I don't know. I've never done anything like this. I just burst out of the house and went running. THen I saw your light on." 

"Well, I'm glad you came," he said. "You can stay here as long as you'd like. At some point we might want to... when did you run away, anyway?" 

"About an hour ago." 

A sharp knock came at the door. Connie's eyes widened. "Don't tell them I'm here," she said. "No one saw me come. I made sure of it." 

"That's them?" 

"Yes. I'm sure." 

The knock came again, and she dashed into the pantry. Mr. H went to the door and opened it. He saw Connie's father there with an umbrella. 

"Mr. Higginson," he said, in his thick accent. "I'm very sorry... have you seen Connie? She went walking one hour ago and not come back even in rain. We worried." 

Mr. H swallowed. "Sorry, Mr. Chang," he said. "I haven't seen her." 

"Okay, if you do, call me, okay?" He said, handing him a slip of paper. 

"Will do," Mr. H said.  

He went back to the kitchen and Connie slowly came out of the pantry. 

"Thank you," she said. 

"I feel for you," he said. "My parents were pretty oppressive, too." 

"Really? You? I thought you're parents were cool." 

"Naw, I was just like you," he said. "But I went to college and it opened me up. Met girls. Went to parties. I got a whole new perspective on things. Life isn't so intense." 

"Met girls, huh?" She said, looking over the rim of her cup. 

He reddened a bit despite himself and she laughed. 

"Yeah," he said. "Quite a few, actually." 

"I'll bet you did." She smiled at him. He pretended to take it in stride, but the way she said it, so assured, he felt that jolt again. Pretty soon something like that might start registering with the ol' cream-maker between his legs, but he put that kind of thought aside. Still.... he had always been curious about Asian girls. 

"Do you want to watch some TV?" He said, stopping his mind from whirling away. "You can stay as long as you want. You probably better go home before long, though." 

"Sure," she said, and walked into the living room. She plopped on his favorite couch, a wide-cushioned thing that he'd spent many nights on. 

"Oops," she said, standing up. "My pants are wet."

"Here, let me run up and get you some dry ones," he said, turning. 

"No, that's okay!" She said. "If you can just turn around a moment, I'll just take these off and put a blanket over myself. Is that okay?"

"You'll just--sure, that's fine!" He stammered. Now the jolt did register between his legs. He turned around and heard her button snap, then the slither of cloth. He panicked as he thought about the windows -- if word ever got out that one of his students was taking off her pants in his living room he was done for -- but then he remembered that he'd kept them all shut. 

"Okay, you can turn around," she said. He did, and she sat with the couch blanket spread across her legs. It was a very wide stitch, however, a gift to his girls from some knitting relative, and he could see the pattern of her skin underneath the pink cloth. She had tapering, firm thighs and slim calves. Her legs stretched up to a little patch of black panties... he diverted his eyes quickly. He'd drunk that all in in a single glance but he wondered if she saw. He looked and thought he saw a little smile dance across her lips. He sat down and looked at the television. 

"Can you hand me the remote?" She said, pointing across him to the other side of the couch. THen he noticed the slight bulge in his sweats, with her hand hovering just three inches above it. He handed her the remote. She began to flip aimlessly. He shifted to cover up his bulge. The friction of moving around just made it worse, however, and images of Connie's legs spreading before him went off in his head like fireworks. 

She crossed a channel with a sex scene and paused for just a moment. A man and a woman ground against each other in bed. She kept flipping with a little smile. 

"So are you into sports?" He said. 

"Yeah, I swim and jog," she said. "A little on the bicycle. Some tennis. Why?" 

"Oh I wondered if you would like to watch the playoffs, but that's okay. Wow, I didn't realize you were into all those things." 

"My parents tell me it's good to keep the body firm." 

He nodded. His goddam hard-on was making a nuisance of itself. He excused himself and went to the bathroom, careful to angle away from Connie so he didn't reveal anything. He sighed and leaned against the sink. Looked at himself. What was going on? He considered beating off to relieve the tension but decided against it. That would take too long. Might be too obvious. He suspected she already had seen something. The poor girl was probably petrified. 

He heard another knock at the front door, and that tampered things down there. He flushed the toilet, washed his hands, and came out. The living room was out of sight, so he went straight to the door. This time he saw Connie's mother. 

"Mr. Higginson! Hello!" She crooned. 

"Mrs. Chang! Hi!" He said. "Your husband was just here. I haven't seen Connie yet." 

"Really?" She said. "See, one of the neighbors, he thought he see Connie knock on your door a little while ago." 

"No," he said, pondering the situation. In truth, Mrs. Chang, he thought to himself, just two minutes ago your daughter made my penis hard as a rock. 

"Oh, I think I know what he saw," Mr. H said. "There was a girl who was lost her puppy. It was here and she came in to use the phone. That's what your neighbor saw." 

Mrs. Chang's eyes narrowed. "He was pretty sure," she said. "Where your wife and kids?" 

"They're on a trip." 

She frowned. Then she yelled out something in Taiwanese. She was calling into the house for Connie. 

"Mrs. Chang, I assure you--" 

"Then you not mind if I have a little look around?" 

He paused. "Sure," he said, his voice falling. "Go ahead." 

To refuse, he thought, would surely invite a visit from the cops, given Mrs. Chang's state of mind. He began to plan what he would say when she found her daughter on his couch in her underwear. He realized that he might be dealing with the cops tonight anyway. He hoped Connie would back up the real story. Dread hit his stomach. There would be no way to keep this from his wife. 

"Mrs. Chang," he said, following her, "let me first say..." 

They entered the living room. The playoffs were on TV and the room was empty. The blanket was folded on the arm of the couch. Mrs. Chang peeked around the corner. She looked upstairs. 

"Go ahead," he said. She marched upstairs and peeked in all the rooms. They came back down. She looked in the bathroom. Mr. H saw Connie's sweatshirt crumpled on the chair and he froze. When Mrs. Chang turned her back he carefully pushed in the chair so the sweatshirt was concealed by the long tablecloth. 

"Mr. Higginson, I owe you apology," Mrs. Chang said. "I very sorry. We just so scared." 

"How long has she been gone?" 

"Maybe two hour." 

"Give her some time. I'm sure she'll be home before long. Teenagers are like this. They fight with their parents constantly." 

Mrs. Chang nodded, patted his arm and left. She had a strange look in her eye, though, and he wondered if she believed him. Mr. H went back to the living room and saw Connie sitting there in the same position. She had a little smile on her face. 

"Good," Mr. H said. "I thought I was going crazy. Where did you go? I thought we were done for." 

"As soon as I heard her voice I knew she was coming in," Connie said. "I went out the back door and waited." 

'Good thinking," he said, and sat down. His eyes slipped to her legs again and darted away but she noticed. 

"Is this okay?" She said, shifting the blanket. 

"It's fine! I mean, if you want to, but don't worry about me--" 

She laughed and put a hand on his shoulder, gave him a playful push. Her hand lingered there for a second before she pulled it away. 

"Look, Connie," he said, "you really shouldn't stay here long. I'd love to help you but your parents are awfully upset." 

"You already have helped me." 

"Good. I'm glad." 

"You can help me some more." 

"How's that?" 

She looked at him. "Compliment me." 

"What?" 

"Am I pretty?" 

"Of course." 

"Say it, please. I want to hear you say it." 

"You're beautiful," he said. She smiled at him. 

"You mean it," she said. 

"I do."

"It means a lot to hear you say it. I think about you." 

"Connie--"

"Don't," she said, putting a finger on his lips. She tossed her blanket aside and pulled off his wife's sweatshirt. Mr. H drew in a breath. She was not the awkward looking girl he expected. She was dynamite in her panties and bra. Trim and flat-bellied, flawless curves, smooth, olive skin and tight little hips. A bubble ass. Her black bra held in a pair of perky breasts, well-proportioned enough to bounce slightly when she moved despite their relatively small size, albeit on her 5 foot 3 frame. She bounded over to him on her knees, the couch cushions bouncing, and kissed him. He muttered something, put his hand up to push her away, then let her stay there, and they kissed. 

"Mr. H," she said when their lips parted, "I wanted to do that for a long time." 

"We... shouldn't," he said, but she put a finger to his lips again, and, smiling, came in for another kiss. This time he complied easily. He ran a hand through her hair and caressed her neck. 

"You think I'm sexy?" She said, wriggling closer to him. 

"Oh yes," he said. Rational thoughts were evacuating his head. He felt a huge twinge in his sweatpants, and Connie wriggled closer. He put a hand behind her back and pulled her close. She ran a hand down his chest and they kissed again. Suddenly she swung a leg around and was straddling him. He twinged, and she felt it through her panties and let out a little gasp. 

"Mr. H! You naughty man!" 

"Connie--" 

"Be quiet," she commanded. "Take off your shirt." 

Again he complied, and she began running her hands around his chest and belly. 

"You're as good looking as I imagined," she said. "Great body for a teacher."  

She writhed her hips a little bit, knocking his penis about. She smiled and bit a lip. 

"You ever been with a student before?" She asked. 

"No," he said, honestly. 

"Good," she said, reaching behind to her back and unhooking her bra. "I'll be your first. All those others have missed out." 

Her bra came loose and fell off her shoulders, revealing a round pair of breasts and wide, hard nipples. 

"Come here," he said, and pulled her to him. She was just the right height as she straddled him, and he took one of her breasts full into his mouth. The nipple filled his mouth perfectly. He tossed it about with his tongue, and Connie let out a sharp gasp as he tested it with his teeth. 

"You okay?" He said. She responded by forcing her breast into his mouth again. 

In a moment she pulled away, and kissed her way down his chest, to his belly. She stopped, looked at him and hooked her fingers around his sweatpants strap. She raised her eyebrows in question, and he waited for the last traces of reason to leave his brain, and then he nodded. She pulled down his pants with a flourish, and his penis flopped out, swollen. 

"Mr. H," she said, taking it in her hand and pulling it. "Mr. H..."

Rubbing it, she thrust herself at him again, kissed him on the mouth, and took his hand. She guided it down her chest to her panties strap. His heart began to pound. As they kissed she nodded slowly, and he forced his fingers between the strap and her skin. At first he gripped her hard little ass, and then, with one hand, she peeled the panties down to her knees, and then off. He stole a glance. He saw a little muff of hair between her slightly parted legs. THen she took his hand and guided it to her vagina. 

She was wet. As he rubbed her with his fingers she bit her lower lip and pulled on his penis hard. Suddenly she let out a tremendous groan and thrust her mouth onto his. She started to quake. 

"Mr. H," she moaned, and dropped to her back on the couch. She looked up at him expectantly. 

"Have you..." He said. She said nothing, but smiled devilishly. 

"You have?" He said. 

"I haven't," she whispered. "I've gotten this far but no further." 

"You want to stop?" 

"No." 

He grabbed her hips with his hands and positioned them in the center of the couch. He parted her knees with his hands, and they dropped away easily, revealing her little pink and red slit. He leaned over her and kissed her. She kissed him back and grabbed his penis, now rock hard and long. 

"It might hurt," he said. 

"But hurt good?" 

"Yeah." 

With one hand on her ass he lowered his hips to meet hers. At first his penis just kind of hung there like an awkward bystander, slapping her inner thighs pointlessly, but then they kissed, locked lips, and her hands began caressing him, encouraging him. He angled his penis down and thrust gently. She moaned slightly. 

"Might hurt..." he whispered, and she nodded. 

He thrust again. 

"Mr. H." 

"Mmm?" 

"Ummm," she said, feeling his hardness slide along her skin. He thrust again and again. 

"Maybe I'm too tight," she suggested after a minute. 

"No, not at all," he said. 

"Maybe," she said, "I should---ohhhHH!"

She felt a searing, flashing pain, but then it was gone, replaced with an itching, swelling yet oddly pleasant pain. 

"What was that?" She moaned, grabbing his hips. Then she looked down and gasped. His big penis, hanging around so oddly a minute ago, was gone beneath her fur. She saw his pubic hair crash into hers, and she knew he was inside her. She felt his hot warmth pushing deeper into her, and she let out a sharp gasp. 

"You okay?" He said, his voice shaking. 

"Mmmm-hmmm," she moaned, gritting her teeth. 

"It'll get easier," he siad. "Just relax. Oh, Connie, you're so beautiful..." 

He began to rock his hips into hers slowly. THe movement, combined with her back being plowed into the cushions, ensured that every inch of his penis thrust deep into her pussy. And it did get easier. In a minute she managed her first smile, and in another minute she let out her first real gasp of pleasure. 

"Mr. H," she moaned, her knees thrust wide to accomodate him, her back arched so her breasts brushed his rib cage, "oh, teacher, teach me.... teach me..." 

"Oh, baby," he moaned. He balanced himself with one hand and wrapped the other paw around her ass, pulling her hips into him so he could thrust his penis as deep as it would go. Her vagina was so tight it seemed to be pulling at his penis, ushering it deeper and deeper. She moaned correspondingly. Her hands crept up his sides to his shoulders and gripped them to create more leverage. 

"So naughty," she moaned, "we're so naughty..." 

"You're my little brown-noser," he said, grounding his hips into hers. "Do anything for an 'A'..." 

She squeezed her legs around his ass. "So do I... get one?" 

"You, babe," he moaned, increasing his rhythm, "don't have a thing to worry about." 

"Oh, Mr. H," she moaned, clutching his shoulders fiercely. "What's.... happening.. ohhHH! OH! OH! Fuck! Yes!" 

Her eyes clenched shut and her teeth flashed as the orgasm exploded in her head. The sight of her body being seized by orgasm fueled his own flame, and he felt his penis extending itself deep, deep, and then exploding. The sensation of his cum blasting into her vagina brought a smile to Connie's face. 

"Is that you?" She cried, opening her eyes slightly. "Is that you?" 

"Yeah, babe, it's me," he siad. "You made me come... you made me come." 

Afterward they laid there tangled in each other's limbs. They said little but every now and then smiled at each other and kissed. The couch was sticky from their effort but they paid it little mind. He took in her smells and pulled her close. Given time, their snuggling started to grow amorous again. He marveled at the 18-year-old libido. 

There was a sharp knock at the door. 

"Mr Higginson!' Came Mrs. Chang's voice. "I know you there with Connie! You open this door! You no fool me!" 

They looked at each other. Connie's eyes were wide with panic. He just smiled leisurely at her, and caressed her forehead. "She can't get us in here," he said. "We're just a couple of lovers." 

"She'll call the police!" 

"To do what? You're 18. We're consenting. They'll haul HER away for trespassing!" 

Connie laughed at that, and kissed him. He kissed her back. THen her eyes widened again. 

"She'll tell the school!" 

"Your word and my word against hers,' he said. "I don't need to tell you her reputation in school. Besides, she can't see anything. For all she knows I'm asleep on the couch." 

She looked down at his penis. "Hmm," she said. "Far from it." 

"Let's see here..." 

Her legs parted again, and his penis found its groove again, faster this time. Their bodies found the rocking rhythm, and they whispered encouragement to each other even as Mrs. Chang circled the house, banging on windows. 

"You come out! You come out!" She cried. Inside, Mr. H banged her daughter enthusiastically, feeling his penis being squeezed by her pussy, and he just couldn't wipe off the smile. 









 





