Sue had a neat idea the next morning when she got up. She smiled to herself, took a shower, dried her darling body, then slipped into a pair of bright-white nylon panties and a soft white bra with a sliver of lace tickling the bulge of her titties.
She pulled on a dark-blue skirt. She fixed it just right, buttoned the hook on the side, watched the thin cotton swirl around her lithe hips as she hitched the hem high on her thighs.
"Yeah, good," she mumbled.
She slipped a baggy sweater over her head… blue and white… with stripes running down the front, white sleeves, blue stripes on the shoulders and along the arms.
She kicked a pair of low red heels from her closet and stepped onto them.
Sue appraised herself in the mirror and smiled admiringly. She felt good.
"This is power," she whispered.
She fixed her hair in double ponytails, each tail bobbing up, held into a twist by white ribbons. Her dark-brown bangs curled down on her forehead. She blushed her cheeks with pink rouge, swashed her lips with sparkling pink gloss that glistened salaciously.
Sue looked so damn good on her way to school that she turned men's heads.
Cars stopped longer at intersections as she passed. Men ogled her. Eyes bulged. She wiggled sexily, the tight, short blue skirt swirling sexily on her thighs.
She walked up the steps to school, then marched right down the hall to Mr. Davidson's office and knocked.
He beckoned her in.
"I wanted to talk about the test coming up today," she said.
"Sure, come in."
Sue took the chair at the side of his desk.
He leaned back, his chair tilting.
"What is it?" he asked.
Sue opened her notebook. "I just wanna be sure that I know some of these things. Like should I know where Hamlet has been?"
"I wouldn't worry about that," he said.
Sue looked up, saw his eyes gazing up and down her slim, trim body as she snuggled into the wide chair.
The darling looked delicious. Her beautiful face radiated nymphet loveliness. She smiled, just a tiny grin, as her eyes met Mr.
Davidson's.
"That won't be on the test then?" she said.
"No."
Sue crossed her legs, not one on top of the other, thigh over thigh, but she cocked one leg up, almost like a man would sit, and placed her ankle on the top of her other knee. Her skirt fell back almost to her lifted thigh.
She looked down at her notes on her lap, then played like she might have forgotten she had a skirt on and let Mr. Davidson look right up her smooth tanned legs to her white nylon panties, to the bulging pussy-packed Vee.
Mr. Davidson was a normal, red-blooded male. He was tall, handsome, had sandy hair that was graying slightly at his temples. His youthful, manly appearance belied his age. But the students had guessed him somewhere near forty.
His mouth dropped open at Sue's sweet show. He stared hotly at her panties, the way her bushy brown pussy pouched the crotch in a delicious muffin.
Of course he'd noticed Sue before. Everyone did. Her youthful beauty, square-cut face, dark features, proud chiseled chin, big brown eyes… her scrumptious young body.
Mr. Davidson had been hired because he had a master's degree in literature. He knew his stuff. He also knew he was trembling, that his heart was thumping.
He had never entertained the thought of having an affair with his student. He did not dare, he thought. This did not stop him from thinking about her occasionally, mostly at night as he lay in bed before he'd go to sleep. He'd think about how pretty she was that day in school, how her fine ass filled out her tight jeans.
He'd find himself stroking his cock, which had lifted to a throbbing erection in tribute to Sue. And many nights, he had tossed the covers off, spreading his legs and pounded his prick savagely, jerking off wildly to the image of Sue, ending with a shimmering sensation as his body vibrated and his cock spewed thick splashes of cum high in the air.
But an affair? He didn't want to lose his job.
Sue sat there letting him look boldly up between her legs.
"How about the king?" she asked.
"You should only know about whether he was a force for good or evil."
Sue knew where that was discussed in her text, so finding the answer would be easy.
She looked down at her notepad.
Sue loved the way she was able to manipulate her teacher.
He was trying to be cool, looking up at his desk, fishing around through sheaths of paper, but his eyes kept glancing back at the blissful sight that Sue offered him.
She kept her leg cocked up, hooked over, the ankle on her knee, skirt up, giving Mr. Davidson an exciting eyeshot at her puffy panties.
"Ophelia?" she said, looking up, her eyebrows arching at her teacher.
"All you need to know about her is on page forty-seven of your text,"
Mr. Davidson said.
Sue scribbled down the page number. Now she was getting some place, narrowing the answers down to the right page.
Mr. Davidson glimpsed the heavenly vision before him, his eyes as big as over-coat buttons.
"The guy from Norway?" Sue asked.
"Yes, yes," Mr. Davidson panted. "How he rode in and took over the country, took Denmark, yes… that's important."
Sue brought her knee up as if she were balancing her notebook on it. As she scribbled, her legs parted, exposing her pussy, and silky little black hairs slivered out the crotch in the Vee of her thighs.
"What page would that be on, sir?"
"One-ninety-six," Mr. Davidson blurted. This is more like it, Sue thought. Her pussy was spritzing, all hot and squishy.
Mr. Davidson's prick stuck up in his pants like a gun barrel, appearing hard, tall and slick.
Sue wrote down the page number and glanced up, saw the passion on Mr.
Davidson's face, then looked down and saw the spike of his cock in his gray slacks.
He was shaking. His cock ached for the beautiful girl, but was he willing to throw away his career and make a move on her?
Mr. Davidson had made enough money in the past. He'd been a successful broadcasting executive, worked up from sales to general manager of a radio station, moved into television, made bundles selling for a local station, then was elevated to manager, and finally landing a position as head of the broadcast division.
He had money.
And all the time he was making money, Mr. Davidson read literature. It was his first love. Once he'd gone as far as a man could go in a career, made enough money to last ten lifetimes, he dropped out and got a master's degree in English literature, and was hired by Hidden Valley High.
He couldn't possibly throw everything away for a pretty, young girl more than twenty years his junior… or could he?
Sue shifted, her legs spreading farther apart, her ankle still cocked over her knee which was hooked upward in a provocative arch.
Her pussy was pressing hotly against her panties.
Mr. Davidson ogled the wonderful rarity.
His cock oozed cum in his pants.
His heart raced.
"Hamlet's suicide?" Sue cooed.
"There's a summary of what you want to know on page one-thirty-three."
Sue looked up the page in her textbook, then looked up, staring right at Mr. Davidson's rugged, but handsome, face.
He was gazing lovingly between her legs.
"Do you just want a copy of the answers to the test?" he said teasingly.
Sue was taken aback. She recovered quickly. "Gee, sure, Mr. Davidson, that would be really neat."
"Then you'd have all the answers."
"Gosh…"
"Isn't that what you'd like?" he asked.
"Yes," Sue said boldly.
Sue couldn't help but glance at Mr. Davidson's crotch, the curling, bending erection that bulged in his pants. He was still looking at the marvelous show Sue was so sweetly giving him. She stared at his hardon.
"I thought you'd like the answers." he said. "I figured that's why you visited me."
"Well, I… I just thought maybe… I…" Sue stammered.
He got up and stepped to a file behind Sue. He got the answer sheet, folded it into a little square, pulled his belt out, and stuck the answers down into his shorts.
He walked around to Sue. He stood in front of her, his cock bulging in his slacks.
"The answers are in my pocket," he said.
"Huh?"
"Just take them out of my pocket. It wouldn't be proper for me to give you the answers, Suzanne. Do you understand? You have to take them.
Then, if anyone ever said anything, I could always tell them you simply found the answers."
"Oh, I won't say nothin'," Sue said quickly to reassure him, dropping her leg.
She slid forward to the edge of the chair, her back straight.
She reached out and slid her little pink fingernails down into Mr.
Davidson's pants pocket and scratched around, felt the tip of his throbbing cock. Her fingers pinched, wiggled, and her body sizzled with a new, strange excitement at the touch of her teacher's hard prick.
She withdrew her hand.
"They're not in that pocket," she said, then reached out and dipped into Mr. Davidson's left pocket. She felt around, touched the base of his cock, then quickly pulled away.
"But they're not in there either," she whispered.
"Must be in here," Mr. Davidson said, pointing to his fly. "In that pocket."
"Uh, gee. Mmmmm, uh, in there?" Sue said.
"Yes."
"Gee."
Mr. Davidson's cock was wobbling and thumping around in his slacks like a live snake.
Sue hesitated, her mind wheeling. She wanted those damn answers.
Slowly, she reached out, gripped the zipper of his fly between her thumb and forefinger, then drew it down, and opened his fly. She wiggled her hand inside.
His big prick twanged from his shorts, twitching within the flyopening, and Sue's fingers slithered down and around the stalk as she searched for the answers. His huge cock stuck out from the opening. She had to slick in there, dunk down, get them. She clutched his cock and pulled it through the fly of his pants.
"I better get this thing out of the way," Sue whispered.
She yanked on his big prick. It shimmied and throbbed, a full eight inches of magnificent cock, with a long, hard stalk, a beautiful helmet-head, the piss-slit bubbling with cum.
She held his prick in her little hand. It was like a polished hunk of marble.
Sue had never seen anything so exciting. Her heart throbbed.
She held his prick tightly in her hand, pulled it to one side, then reached in with her other hand. Her hand slid down through the fly of his shorts, dipped down, and cupped his big balls. She bobbled them on her fingers as she explored the depths of his shorts.
She found the answer sheet, squeezed it tightly and brought her hand out. She held the sheet secure, and her other hand still clutched Mr.
Davidson's hot, hard prick-stick.