Crush
by Nathan Dillinger
copyright 2012 Nathan Dillinger
Smashwords Edition
I read the little note – www.yourspace.com/prfctangel - for the eighteenth time, and took another sip of wine.
That web address had been written on a small post-it note and attached to the front page of Megan Ralleti’s final exam. It was clearly an invitation – but for what? Was she trying to extend a hand of friendship to me? It might seem a little odd for a student to invite her teacher to visit their YourSpace page, but considering it was Megan, it made sense.
Megan was the quietest student in fourth period Calculus, but she always had the answers. She was brilliant, but not terribly social. The few times I’d tried to talk to her one-on-one, she would blush profusely and trip over her tongue. But I always felt a sort of connection with her; I think that if we were able to talk, we’d find we have a lot in common. So perhaps instead of trying to approach me with small talk, Megan felt more comfortable going a slightly less direct route.
My hesitancy was based on a deeply ingrained personal policy to not get too familiar with my students. I had to be able to uphold a certain level of objectivity in the classroom. I certainly don’t have a stick up my skirt like some teachers do, though. I like to joke around with my students and make class as painless as possible, but I don’t let myself get involved in their personal lives. It just makes things messy.
This time it’s different, though, which has kept me from tossing out the note right away. This was the last class I’d ever have Megan in, so what did it matter? Besides, what would I find? That she enjoys reading science fiction and going to the library?
Draining the last of my wine, I set the glass down and typed the web address into my browser and hit ‘enter’. To say I was surprised by what I saw would be a major understatement. Though I suppose I probably shouldn’t have been quite so shocked. After all, did I really think that my students wore their school uniforms when they weren’t in class? That’s all I’ve ever seen Megan wear, though, so my mind automatically associates those clothes with her.
Even so, seeing the picture on her YourSpace page made my heart flutter. She had her silky brown hair down (she always wore it up at school) framing her innocent face that was colored with just the right shade of eye shadow, eyeliner, blush, and lipstick. Her lips were pouty and moist; I never realized how full and sensual they were. She was leaning forward in the photo, as if she were leaning in to kiss me, and she was displaying a considerable amount of cleavage – much more than I would have guessed. All of the more popular girls tried to “slutty-up” their uniforms, but Megan was always very conservative. Seeing her like this, so sensual and alluring, I couldn’t help myself from getting turned on.
I very much wanted to read her biographical information, but I was more intrigued by that picture. I hoped there would be more like that one. So I clicked the link to her photo album, and was not disappointed.
There were seven more pictures, all different poses and, to my delight, varying levels of undress. The pictures were obviously taken as a single set, and judging from the graininess, she was probably using her cell phone camera or the low-light settings on a digital camera. She was showing her hidden side; there’s a look on her face in all of her pictures, a look that was half fear and paranoia of being walked-in on, and a look of exhilaration.
Who would have known that beneath the conservative skirt and blouse that was the required wardrobe for our school, that there was such a breathtaking body? As I admired her firm, surprisingly large breasts, flat abdomen, long legs, and deliciously tight little ass, I noticed that it was getting warm in my apartment. I released the top two buttons of my blouse as I read through some of the comments people had left on her pictures; almost all of them were from guys wanting to meet up with her and do various things with her body. I was surprised at the attention she got from them. I don’t think I’d ever seen her talk to a boy during school, and now reading all these lecherous comments about her, it was strange. But arousing at the same time.