cleared her head entirely.
The next class was quiet when she entered. Her heels clicked and echoed in the large, empty space as she made her way down the steps to her seat in the third row. She checked her lipstick in her compact and crossed her legs, anxious for Mr. Taylor’s arrival. If by some chance he stayed out of class again, she’d catch him after class at lunch, as planned.
A student, followed by Mr. Taylor, entered from the private lower door. The student pushed a rickety metal cart with a slide projector on it. As he arranged it into place beside the teacher’s desk, Mr. Taylor pulled down a large white backdrop screen. Class was still about ten minutes from commencing and only a few students had trickled in, but the noise coming from the hallways was obscene.
Kaya tracked Mr. Taylor’s every move. Just seeing him made her giddy. She'd never wanted any man more.
He glanced her way when he turned to sit at his desk. His eyes lasered in directly on her and didn’t falter. Only the sound of another student rummaging through their book bag forced him to look away. He appeared tired and distracted. His brooding made him sexier. All she could think about was getting alone with him again.
As soon as the class filled up, Mr. Taylor flicked off the lights and took his place behind the projector.
“We’re going to take a little break and do some art appreciation. I’d like to get some of your impressions on these pieces. They mean a lot of different things to different people. Art's known to be very subjective. A person’s life experiences can dictate how they perceive something.”
He went through several slides of beautiful artwork from famous artists of the past century. He asked questions and students answered, creating several interesting discussions. Mr. Taylor’s intelligence was the ultimate turn on. She couldn’t wait to get him alone and all to herself.
“Why are shadows used in this picture?” he asked the class. Several students offered their opinions, but none of them hit on the point the teacher wanted to make.
“Kaya?"
“The shadows are used to reflect the mood of the mourners.”
“Exactly.” He addressed the class. “Kaya doesn’t say much, but when she does, it’s brilliant.” Heat rushed from her extremities and pooled in her core. Her pussy pulsed deep and urgent upon hearing his voice and listening to his praise.
She thought class would never end. Her next period was lunch and her “date” with Mr. Taylor in the privacy of his office. Kaya stayed put in her seat until every student cleared out of the room. But once the drone of conversation was gone, she suddenly lost her bravado and wished she hadn’t worn her getup and heels.
Kaya walked down the stairs as he collected his materials from the desk. Her heels pierced the silence with an erotic echo that made him glance up. When she got to the level floor, he stood straight, his face a blank slate.
“You still want to talk with me at lunch?” she asked.
He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. “Yes. I’m almost ready.”
“No rush.” She sat on his desk beside where he stood and crossed her leg over the other, exposing most of her thigh. She wanted him to look at her with lust in his eyes. She wanted him to forget right and wrong and give into his desire and lose control. Kaya waited and hoped. She was ready to fuck him today, this minute, this second.
“You know, you really shouldn’t dress like that. I had a difficult time keeping my male students focused today.” So he did notice.
“What about you? Could you focus?”
He swallowed and wet his lips. “Not as well as I hoped.”
"That's good."
“Kaya," he started, but stopped for what seemed like forever. "I planned to tell you I couldn’t have anything to do with you romantically.”
“And now?”
“You’re making if very hard for me to walk away.”
“Then don’t.” She pressed closer and kissed his lips. Immediately he looked
The next class was quiet when she entered. Her heels clicked and echoed in the large, empty space as she made her way down the steps to her seat in the third row. She checked her lipstick in her compact and crossed her legs, anxious for Mr. Taylor’s arrival. If by some chance he stayed out of class again, she’d catch him after class at lunch, as planned.
A student, followed by Mr. Taylor, entered from the private lower door. The student pushed a rickety metal cart with a slide projector on it. As he arranged it into place beside the teacher’s desk, Mr. Taylor pulled down a large white backdrop screen. Class was still about ten minutes from commencing and only a few students had trickled in, but the noise coming from the hallways was obscene.
Kaya tracked Mr. Taylor’s every move. Just seeing him made her giddy. She'd never wanted any man more.
He glanced her way when he turned to sit at his desk. His eyes lasered in directly on her and didn’t falter. Only the sound of another student rummaging through their book bag forced him to look away. He appeared tired and distracted. His brooding made him sexier. All she could think about was getting alone with him again.
As soon as the class filled up, Mr. Taylor flicked off the lights and took his place behind the projector.
“We’re going to take a little break and do some art appreciation. I’d like to get some of your impressions on these pieces. They mean a lot of different things to different people. Art's known to be very subjective. A person’s life experiences can dictate how they perceive something.”
He went through several slides of beautiful artwork from famous artists of the past century. He asked questions and students answered, creating several interesting discussions. Mr. Taylor’s intelligence was the ultimate turn on. She couldn’t wait to get him alone and all to herself.
“Why are shadows used in this picture?” he asked the class. Several students offered their opinions, but none of them hit on the point the teacher wanted to make.
“Kaya?"
“The shadows are used to reflect the mood of the mourners.”
“Exactly.” He addressed the class. “Kaya doesn’t say much, but when she does, it’s brilliant.” Heat rushed from her extremities and pooled in her core. Her pussy pulsed deep and urgent upon hearing his voice and listening to his praise.
She thought class would never end. Her next period was lunch and her “date” with Mr. Taylor in the privacy of his office. Kaya stayed put in her seat until every student cleared out of the room. But once the drone of conversation was gone, she suddenly lost her bravado and wished she hadn’t worn her getup and heels.
Kaya walked down the stairs as he collected his materials from the desk. Her heels pierced the silence with an erotic echo that made him glance up. When she got to the level floor, he stood straight, his face a blank slate.
“You still want to talk with me at lunch?” she asked.
He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. “Yes. I’m almost ready.”
“No rush.” She sat on his desk beside where he stood and crossed her leg over the other, exposing most of her thigh. She wanted him to look at her with lust in his eyes. She wanted him to forget right and wrong and give into his desire and lose control. Kaya waited and hoped. She was ready to fuck him today, this minute, this second.
“You know, you really shouldn’t dress like that. I had a difficult time keeping my male students focused today.” So he did notice.
“What about you? Could you focus?”
He swallowed and wet his lips. “Not as well as I hoped.”
"That's good."
“Kaya," he started, but stopped for what seemed like forever. "I planned to tell you I couldn’t have anything to do with you romantically.”
“And now?”
“You’re making if very hard for me to walk away.”
“Then don’t.” She pressed closer and kissed his lips. Immediately he looked
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