Larry Mitchell: Teacher_s dirty pictures

Bryant tried to control his anxiety and nervous twitching by telling himself that he was old enough to be her father, but her big, brown, doe like eyes and pouty red lips turned his rational thoughts to nothingness, while his brain seemed filled with steaming, mushy oatmeal. It was the innocence of her face, framed by her shoulder-length brown hair, that tortured him. Because that innocence as contradicted by her full, sensuous tits and hips that seemed to roll to the tune of "Let Me Entertain You", even as she sat properly in the visitor's chair along side his desk. And he couldn't help thinking that her long, well-turned legs were just an arm's length away, with his fingers itching to touch them, to walk up them. A slow, tantalizing finger-walk up under the short skirt of her green dress, up her thighs; up to the soft flesh of her inner thighs… He had to blink his eyes and swallow the mouthful of saliva to regain control of his thoughts as she talked about her trip up from the city.

At twenty-three, Laura Roberts had already mastered the art of body language, and she was pleased to see it working so well now. Ever since the age of seventeen she had been competing with other beautiful girls for modeling jobs. She had quickly discovered, with the help of Art Lang, the talents necessary to impress the photographers, and later the producers, when she was trying to break into show business. But with so many girls to compete with, and jobs so few and far between, she decided to give it up for a teaching job, just to get out of debt, if for no other reason.

"… this town is so beautiful," Laura was saying in her soft, velvety voice, but fully aware that he was paying more attention to her legs. "It's hard to believe it's in New York."

"We're proud of our little town," Bryant interrupted, frying to show he was paying attention. "And it's only a little over three hours drive to the heart of the Big Apple. As a matter of fact, the town has bus trips once a month for theater parties."

"I'm sure it's a wonderful place to live. But I guess I've already taken enough of your precious time, Mr. Bryant. I'd better return to the motel and let you get some work done for the bank."

Wayne Bryant gave out a nervous guffaw, wishing he didn't have to stand up now, with his cock bulging in his pants this way. But he managed to cover it as best he could with his suit jacket and walked her to the door, adding, "We'll have a decision this afternoon, Miss Roberts. The board meets at three… and I'll be in touch with you the minute we've made that decision."

"Thank you," Laura said with a big smile. "And please call me Laura. I'm really looking forward to seeing more of the town… and you, too, Mr. Bryant."

As she maneuvered her little VW back towards the motel, Laura felt certain the interview had been a success. If the decision had been Wayne Bryant's alone, she was confident she'd have the job already. But now she'd have to put her trust in his doing a good selling job for her at the directors' meeting she told herself.

It was difficult for her to put too much importance on getting the job, other than for the money involved. She wasn't thrilled at the prospects of being a gym teacher to a group of spoiled teenagers from rich families. And after a brief visit to the school, she decided that though they had money, it hadn't bought them any class. The kids were brats, she told herself, and the faculty had to pamper them. There was very little discipline in the school and that made the job even less attractive.

Back at the motel, Laura slipped into an old pair of leotards and tried to get interested in one of the two television stations the town had to offer. It didn't work and she was soon bored and lonely. But she forced herself to wait for the phone call that would either send her back to the city or move her onto the campus the following morning. The television set droned on and on.

When the knock on the door came, it was the best sound Laura had heard since she checked into the room. At least it meant the world outside was still alive and breathing. She rushed to open the door and was taken back by the sight of Wayne Bryant standing there with a sheepish grin on his face.

"I… errr… thought I… errrr… would give you the… er… news in person," he stammered, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. "And I brought a little bubbly to celebrate."

"Then… I got the job?" she said excitedly. It was a reflex reaction that sent her arms around his neck, and once there required that she give him a little kiss on the cheek. "Come on in. I thought I'd die waiting for an answer. You're so thoughtful to come in person like this."

Quickly, Wayne followed Laura into the sparsely furnished room, closing the door behind him, after a glance out to see if anyone had seen him. It was a married man's nervous reflex. He set the bottle of champagne on the dresser and turned to deliver the speech he had labored over before making up his mind to give her the news in person. At the time, it had seemed terribly important. But now his mouth was cotton-dry and his voice failed him.

Laura smiled at him. She saw his eyes devouring her body, his jaw hanging limp and his hands fumbling nervously. A glance past him, into the mirror over the dresser, reflected her own image in the tight leotards. That her nipples were fizzed-out straight didn't surprise her, since she had felt them build with excitement. What did surprise her was the fact that the black material of her leotards had been washed so thin, it was much more revealing than she was aware of. She realized he could see the pink nipples and smooth white flesh of her fully developed, pear-shaped tits, even though she were standing before him naked. And even though she couldn't see herself below the waist in the mirror, she was sun now that his eyes couldn't miss the dark triangle of her cunt-hair.

"I… I… just don't know how to thank you," she lied. But before he could say anything, she pressed tight against him again, kissing him on the mouth this time. And that familiar bulge in his pants, nestled comfortably at the junction of his legs, told her all she wanted to know.

Laura suddenly felt very close to him, felt very warm and needed. She felt an aching for him suddenly rise from nothing and swell into a rapid crescendo of desire. She merely looked at him; that simple act was enough.

He grabbed her and swept her the short distance to the bed. His lips locked on hers; his tongue probed the moistness of her mouth; his teeth rubbed hard against hers in the fast firmness of their intense embrace. Laura's reply was swift and pointed; her own tongue snaked between his teeth, pushed hard against his. Her arms damped together behind his back, and she rubbed her cunt lewdly against his pulsing hard-on. The two of them suddenly ached to be totally naked.

Laura tried to slow herself, to ease her frantic impatience just a little, but it was useless; Wayne's very touch made her burn for his cock. Just the feel of his hard-on against her smooth soft flesh sent rippling chills of desire through her body. Her nipples were firm and jutting; she could feel them tenderly poking the taut fabric of her leotard. The garment felt suddenly very tight and constrictive, and she yearned for Bryant's fingers to strip it from her eagerly waiting body.

Still locked as if in combat, they wiled together on the bed, first rising then falling. His lips left the sweetness of her mouth and traced a path of warm kisses across her cheek to her neck, as his hand crept up the long, smooth length of her cloth-covered thigh. Teasingly, fully aware of her gnawing passion, he eased his fingers closer to the soft, hair-lined cleft of her cunt. She was moaning audibly now, barely able to breathe.

Wayne gripped the taut elastic material of her leotard at the smooth curve of her shoulder, hooked the thin cotton in his tightened palm and slowly peeled the clinging garment from her trembling body. The fabric stretched first over the slope of her left shoulder.