Hazel Conclusion
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Hazel Daydreams free porn video
It was really difficult for Sam to pay attention to class.
Her panties were soaked by now, much to her personal horror, but she couldn't help it. Every time she looked at her teacher they just got worse and worse.
Mr. Lovell was the youngest teacher the school had been able to get their mitts on in a long time. He had been fresh out of college when he had arrived two years ago, at the ripe young age of twenty-three. Now, he was the even riper age of twenty-five, and he certainly looked it; his brown hair was trimmed and neat, his angular face bearing signs of only the thinnest amount of stubble, his hazel eyes sharp in the light. And that was just his face.
Sticking to the teacher dress code, he was often found in a white button up shirt with a simple black tie and a nice pair of tailored slacks. While the white shirt was nice (and had the appearance of clinging to his lean arms when he moved just right), Sam lived for the days when he would take it a step further, adding a waistcoat on top, allowing her an even better idea of what lay beneath it.
She supposed she should be thankful that he didn't wear it very often, but it was another thing she couldn't help.
Her fascination with him hadn't been so instantaneous that she had been too wet to move, however. While being taken with him physically, she still had a brain and was able to function perfectly fine around him, thank you. She proved this by being top of the class in every one she had with him (which was a few, as he taught English and also Literature for grades eleven and twelve), and if she wasn't number one, she wasn't far behind. She had scoffed at the girls drooling over him, as fooling around with a teacher (no matter how appealing she found them) tended to be off-limits.
Later she wished she had stuck to that moral reasoning.
Two years had given her plenty of time to know him better. During class, he was smart, witty, and had a voice like caramel that she wanted to fall into. Outside of class, he was just the same, only being one-on-one made it more personal.
"Miss Balan, are you with us?"
Sam snapped out of her daze as the teasing caramel tone reached her ears. Blushing, she shook her head, suddenly aware that he must have noticed her staring. "No, sir."
His hazel eyes glinted as he spoke to her, an amused expression on his face. Oh, yeah. She had definitely been staring.
"I see. After class, then."
Oh, no. Oh, please, God no.
Throwing her in a room with him, while her panties were soaked through and her thoughts were drifting, was like throwing chocolate cake in front of a dieting woman. Too delicious to taste, too forbidden to touch.
Ugh, why did she always get herself into these situations?
But his point was made, and she forced herself to pay attention for the rest of the hour as he discussed their most recent expositions of Shakespeare.
The bell finally rang and the class filed out pretty quickly, it being the last hour of the day. Normally, Sam would be delighted by this, but now, she had no time limit until her next class, and he knew she drove to school.
She knew he wouldn't keep her long anyway, but it didn't mean her imagination hadn't already thought up a couple late excuses for her family.
Sam didn't get up from her seat, only packed away her books and hung her head apologetically as he remained at the front of the room until the stragglers had left. Then, he walked over to his desk, calling out to her as he did.
"Come sit."
Looking up, she saw him pulling one of the free seats next to his desk. Next to him, rather. She knew he did this when it was more of a talk or a chat than a reprimanding so, surprised, she left her bag behind and sat in the seat.
Oh, God, why did I do this?
Aidden Lovell was cursing himself repeatedly but didn't allow it to show on his face. His movements were well thought out and restricted as he studied her for a moment.
Her long brown hair was hanging in her face, a habit he had noticed from her a while back that was gradually getting better. It was related to her confidence. As time went on, she became more and more outgoing, and the hair would be pushed back. She had even gotten bangs over the summer, startling him when he saw her on the first day. Her brown eyes, while normally fiery with gold, were reserved at the moment.
He refused to notice the rest of her, however; not the way her breasts clung to a too-tight shirt (only in that area, it seemed. He recalled past girlfriends complaining of this), or the way her legs hung out of a short skirt--much shorter than she used to wear. He also refused to notice the way her thighs squeezed together, an action he was familiar with if he had dared think of it in that light.
At her guilty expression he snorted lightly in exasperation and amusement, a combination he seemed to use around her a lot. Of course, she felt guilty. He usually tried to avoid making her stay after class.
But it wasn't just today that urged him for her to stay back. More and more recently, she seemed to be fading away during his lessons, which was alarming from his top student who used to hang on every word and write down notes like a diligent little worker. Her recent actions made him worried.
"What's wrong?" he asked her.
She seemed surprised at the question, and her face showed this perfectly. Unlike him, she had a very expressive face, which led him to know what she was thinking most of the time. Except for when she was daydreaming and staring at him, but of course, that was what worried him most.
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not," he said with a roll of his eyes. "You're constantly dozing off in the middle of class, Sam. Am I boring you?"
"No," she shook her head, and the guilty look returned, this time along with embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I've just been... preoccupied."
"Do you want to tell me about it? Sometimes talking helps put things in order."
At this, she cocked a grin. "You don't really want to hear about it. Makes things complicated."
He gave her his own grin, unable to help himself. "Come on now, you're just making me curious."
She shook her head. "Nope. I really don't think you want to know, Mr Lovell."
But of course her insistence only really made him want to know, but he smoothed over his curiosity in place of a concerned expression. "You're making me worried, though. I want to help you, you know."
"I-I know." She stuttered the words out, apparently caught off guard by them. "But I'm okay, really. I'm sorry about today. I'll try not to do it again."
As well she should be, he thought before sighing. Yet his expression and voice became teasing again. "Alright. But if you keep doing it I'm going to seriously consider a tutor session. Then you'll have to stay awake."
"Don't tempt me," she grinned.
Finally, he stood up, putting his hand on her shoulder briefly in a swift farewell; swift because he realised how dangerous the action was.
"I suppose I'll see you tomorrow, Sam. Just remember that if anything happens--"
"I know, I can talk to you. Thanks."
And she meant that, the thanks. The thought of her making him worry warmed her heart, and a part of her really wished that she could tell him what was on her mind. The hand on her shoulder almost emboldened her to do just that, but he took it away before she could say anything.
That was the horny part of her, however, and unfortunately, the rational part called her brain was usually in control of the situation.
Though it was considering other things at the moment. Like what would happen if she just so happened to doze off in class tomorrow. Of course, the idea was ridiculous; even if she was locked in the school with him overnight there would be nothing worthwhile aside from an excellent view and the torture of not being able to touch it.
So she smiled a small flirtatious smile simply because she could and then walked out of the room, keenly aware that her panties were even wetter than they had been five minutes ago.
The journey from the classroom to her car and from the school to her house was much quicker than usual, as she continued her earlier line of thinking.
As she unlocked the door to her house, she took note of the lack of cars in the driveway, and once inside she checked the dining room.
Perfect.
The idea of being home alone was uplifting, as it meant she wouldn't have to worry about being caught doing what she was about to.
As it was Thursday, her father would be at work until six, her mom would be with friends until seven, and her sister would be at practice until six-thirty. All in all, that gave her three hours before she even had to worry.
Skipping up the stairs, Sam immediately threw her backpack in the corner of her room, swung the door shut and locked it, and went to her closet.
There were many boxes sitting on the shelf, but the one she was after was the old converse box at the end. Taking it down, she opened it and pulled out a pink dildo.
By far, the best birthday gift she had ever given herself.
Sam had spent years looking forward to her eighteenth birthday for that very reason, the idea that she could legally buy something she had wanted since her freshman year. Now that she had it, it could easily be on her list of prized possessions. She was, after all, extremely horny. And she was also a virgin.
Not that she didn't want sex, didn't want the real thing. She craved it, needed it. Had desperately been hoping that at some point in time, something would happen and she wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. Still, she was scared. Her father, should he ever find out she had a toy of any kind, virgin or not, would go ballistic on her. Sex was something done between a married couple, and any self-pleasure was a sin. If that were true, then she supposed that she would be baking in hell for a very long time.
Her mother and sister weren't much better. Mom stood by whatever Dad said, and sweet Mary-Ann would balk at her and wonder how sheTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.
Her panties were soaked by now, much to her personal horror, but she couldn't help it. Every time she looked at her teacher they just got worse and worse.
Mr. Lovell was the youngest teacher the school had been able to get their mitts on in a long time. He had been fresh out of college when he had arrived two years ago, at the ripe young age of twenty-three. Now, he was the even riper age of twenty-five, and he certainly looked it; his brown hair was trimmed and neat, his angular face bearing signs of only the thinnest amount of stubble, his hazel eyes sharp in the light. And that was just his face.
Sticking to the teacher dress code, he was often found in a white button up shirt with a simple black tie and a nice pair of tailored slacks. While the white shirt was nice (and had the appearance of clinging to his lean arms when he moved just right), Sam lived for the days when he would take it a step further, adding a waistcoat on top, allowing her an even better idea of what lay beneath it.
She supposed she should be thankful that he didn't wear it very often, but it was another thing she couldn't help.
Her fascination with him hadn't been so instantaneous that she had been too wet to move, however. While being taken with him physically, she still had a brain and was able to function perfectly fine around him, thank you. She proved this by being top of the class in every one she had with him (which was a few, as he taught English and also Literature for grades eleven and twelve), and if she wasn't number one, she wasn't far behind. She had scoffed at the girls drooling over him, as fooling around with a teacher (no matter how appealing she found them) tended to be off-limits.
Later she wished she had stuck to that moral reasoning.
Two years had given her plenty of time to know him better. During class, he was smart, witty, and had a voice like caramel that she wanted to fall into. Outside of class, he was just the same, only being one-on-one made it more personal.
"Miss Balan, are you with us?"
Sam snapped out of her daze as the teasing caramel tone reached her ears. Blushing, she shook her head, suddenly aware that he must have noticed her staring. "No, sir."
His hazel eyes glinted as he spoke to her, an amused expression on his face. Oh, yeah. She had definitely been staring.
"I see. After class, then."
Oh, no. Oh, please, God no.
Throwing her in a room with him, while her panties were soaked through and her thoughts were drifting, was like throwing chocolate cake in front of a dieting woman. Too delicious to taste, too forbidden to touch.
Ugh, why did she always get herself into these situations?
But his point was made, and she forced herself to pay attention for the rest of the hour as he discussed their most recent expositions of Shakespeare.
The bell finally rang and the class filed out pretty quickly, it being the last hour of the day. Normally, Sam would be delighted by this, but now, she had no time limit until her next class, and he knew she drove to school.
She knew he wouldn't keep her long anyway, but it didn't mean her imagination hadn't already thought up a couple late excuses for her family.
Sam didn't get up from her seat, only packed away her books and hung her head apologetically as he remained at the front of the room until the stragglers had left. Then, he walked over to his desk, calling out to her as he did.
"Come sit."
Looking up, she saw him pulling one of the free seats next to his desk. Next to him, rather. She knew he did this when it was more of a talk or a chat than a reprimanding so, surprised, she left her bag behind and sat in the seat.
Oh, God, why did I do this?
Aidden Lovell was cursing himself repeatedly but didn't allow it to show on his face. His movements were well thought out and restricted as he studied her for a moment.
Her long brown hair was hanging in her face, a habit he had noticed from her a while back that was gradually getting better. It was related to her confidence. As time went on, she became more and more outgoing, and the hair would be pushed back. She had even gotten bangs over the summer, startling him when he saw her on the first day. Her brown eyes, while normally fiery with gold, were reserved at the moment.
He refused to notice the rest of her, however; not the way her breasts clung to a too-tight shirt (only in that area, it seemed. He recalled past girlfriends complaining of this), or the way her legs hung out of a short skirt--much shorter than she used to wear. He also refused to notice the way her thighs squeezed together, an action he was familiar with if he had dared think of it in that light.
At her guilty expression he snorted lightly in exasperation and amusement, a combination he seemed to use around her a lot. Of course, she felt guilty. He usually tried to avoid making her stay after class.
But it wasn't just today that urged him for her to stay back. More and more recently, she seemed to be fading away during his lessons, which was alarming from his top student who used to hang on every word and write down notes like a diligent little worker. Her recent actions made him worried.
"What's wrong?" he asked her.
She seemed surprised at the question, and her face showed this perfectly. Unlike him, she had a very expressive face, which led him to know what she was thinking most of the time. Except for when she was daydreaming and staring at him, but of course, that was what worried him most.
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not," he said with a roll of his eyes. "You're constantly dozing off in the middle of class, Sam. Am I boring you?"
"No," she shook her head, and the guilty look returned, this time along with embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I've just been... preoccupied."
"Do you want to tell me about it? Sometimes talking helps put things in order."
At this, she cocked a grin. "You don't really want to hear about it. Makes things complicated."
He gave her his own grin, unable to help himself. "Come on now, you're just making me curious."
She shook her head. "Nope. I really don't think you want to know, Mr Lovell."
But of course her insistence only really made him want to know, but he smoothed over his curiosity in place of a concerned expression. "You're making me worried, though. I want to help you, you know."
"I-I know." She stuttered the words out, apparently caught off guard by them. "But I'm okay, really. I'm sorry about today. I'll try not to do it again."
As well she should be, he thought before sighing. Yet his expression and voice became teasing again. "Alright. But if you keep doing it I'm going to seriously consider a tutor session. Then you'll have to stay awake."
"Don't tempt me," she grinned.
Finally, he stood up, putting his hand on her shoulder briefly in a swift farewell; swift because he realised how dangerous the action was.
"I suppose I'll see you tomorrow, Sam. Just remember that if anything happens--"
"I know, I can talk to you. Thanks."
And she meant that, the thanks. The thought of her making him worry warmed her heart, and a part of her really wished that she could tell him what was on her mind. The hand on her shoulder almost emboldened her to do just that, but he took it away before she could say anything.
That was the horny part of her, however, and unfortunately, the rational part called her brain was usually in control of the situation.
Though it was considering other things at the moment. Like what would happen if she just so happened to doze off in class tomorrow. Of course, the idea was ridiculous; even if she was locked in the school with him overnight there would be nothing worthwhile aside from an excellent view and the torture of not being able to touch it.
So she smiled a small flirtatious smile simply because she could and then walked out of the room, keenly aware that her panties were even wetter than they had been five minutes ago.
The journey from the classroom to her car and from the school to her house was much quicker than usual, as she continued her earlier line of thinking.
As she unlocked the door to her house, she took note of the lack of cars in the driveway, and once inside she checked the dining room.
Perfect.
The idea of being home alone was uplifting, as it meant she wouldn't have to worry about being caught doing what she was about to.
As it was Thursday, her father would be at work until six, her mom would be with friends until seven, and her sister would be at practice until six-thirty. All in all, that gave her three hours before she even had to worry.
Skipping up the stairs, Sam immediately threw her backpack in the corner of her room, swung the door shut and locked it, and went to her closet.
There were many boxes sitting on the shelf, but the one she was after was the old converse box at the end. Taking it down, she opened it and pulled out a pink dildo.
By far, the best birthday gift she had ever given herself.
Sam had spent years looking forward to her eighteenth birthday for that very reason, the idea that she could legally buy something she had wanted since her freshman year. Now that she had it, it could easily be on her list of prized possessions. She was, after all, extremely horny. And she was also a virgin.
Not that she didn't want sex, didn't want the real thing. She craved it, needed it. Had desperately been hoping that at some point in time, something would happen and she wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. Still, she was scared. Her father, should he ever find out she had a toy of any kind, virgin or not, would go ballistic on her. Sex was something done between a married couple, and any self-pleasure was a sin. If that were true, then she supposed that she would be baking in hell for a very long time.
Her mother and sister weren't much better. Mom stood by whatever Dad said, and sweet Mary-Ann would balk at her and wonder how sheTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.
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