I kissed the teacher

317 14 4
                                    

Agnetha had left with a light heart and a heavy stomach, she didn't want to leave Mrs. Lyngstad so soon but their contact was so soothing. It was too good to be true but of course she didn't care.

She came back on Tuesday for another math support class.

Her weekend was rather calm since she fantasized about seeing Frida again, her ardent dreams, burning her from the inside. She still felt the same desire, the same needs as when she was touched. She felt like she needed it, but she would never do it again, anything to do with her sexuality was nobody's business but she sincerely wanted Mrs. Lyngstad to take care of it, to own it.

One night, while dreaming comfortably, she found herself in her teacher's loving arms, stroking her hair, caressing her back, her fingers traveling over her body. The palm rested on the creamy white thigh and let her fingers wander up the thigh to the seam of the skirt. Agnetha felt too good, and she realized she was dreaming when she looked at the eight-fingered hand, far too many fingers to be real.

The weekend had passed so quickly but she was eager to return to class, persevering in mathematics, not only did she want to succeed, so that Mrs. Lyngstad would still look at her with pride, but she also wanted to do it for Frida, a kind of pledge of love, promising her fidelity and confidence.

They had learned to know each other, Agnetha had told her about what she liked, her passions, she loved to sing, she liked walks in the forest and many other things, she had told her that her favorite flowers are clivia and the lilies. She had told her about her sister, her parents, her favorite color, that she loved dogs and that when she grew up, she would have several. Frida had told her that she had a big hairy dog named Zappa.

They talked, and talking together was easy, she had never known that she would say so many personal things to Mrs. Lyngstad, and she knew that her teacher would not confide in her at ther point. Between them, a kind of quiet friendship had been woven, Agnetha had her awkward crush and Frida passed on, she liked to be so close to someone young, it was refreshing.

The coming week was full of promises, Agnetha imagined with each new support course scheduled, that it was a secret tryst for her and her alone. The evaluation she had done on Friday took her breath away, she brought back the astonishing score of 18/20. But on looking more carefully she noticed that points were added on less obvious faults, five points exactly, which means that on her own she had gotten 13 points. She felt reassured, it changed her from the 8 and 6 she usually had.

It had passed two weeks, she felt more open to calculations with constantly changing notes. Moreover, she was also more comfortable with Mrs. Lyngstad, the woman smiled too much at her, and each time she fell under her spell, she certainly had the most beautiful smile that everyone knew.

Agnetha had changed her habits, she perfumed herself with her mother's bottle of eau de toilette, paid attention to her clothing, braided her hair more carefully, brushed her hair more carefully, and before going home she always pinched herself. her cheeks stung, but she realized that the blush in her cheeks made Mrs. Lyngstad smile wider. She trained herself to smile, a polite, tender smile, the happy smile that showed her adorable teeth remarkable for her lucky tooth. Sometimes she squinted her eyes more to accentuate the enthusiasm of the moment. She wore blue, so she checked every time she had a blue garment on her, most of the time she had a sky blue skirt, sometimes it was her shoes or a cardigan, but she had decided that as soon as that she would put duvets on the back of her head and wear her little blue panties, at those times she put on her shortest skirt and perfumed herself more strongly.

She had noticed that over the past two weeks Mrs. Lyngstad particularly enjoyed looking at her thighs, she remembered once she had inadvertently slipped and her hand had landed on the soft white thigh. Contact was maintained for several minutes, even as she languidly rubbed her fingers on her. Agnetha had probably suppressed the greatest thrill of her life and smiled her tender smile, which made her teacher hum.

Everybody sceam when I kissed the teacher Where stories live. Discover now