Me: Crack.
Mana: Lots of crack...
Setsuna: I like this kind of crack..
Me: Yeah yeah. Let's publish this so i can do what all rock stars do best...GO TO SLEEP! OH! AND I EDITED IT! PART OF IT GOT MIXED UP ANOTHER STORY! SO THAT'S WHY SETSUNA WAS SO MANLY!
Setsuna: WHY ARE YOU TALKING LIKE THAT?
Me: IT'S FUN! NOW. THE SHOW GOES ON! TO THE NAP ROOM!
So, you hear about teachers getting in trouble for relationships with their students. Maybe you've heard about how they get put in jail for many years, all the publicity they get over one stupid little thing.
Ha.
I've only had one relationship with any of my students at Mahora academy. My grandfather, the dean, knows about it. He seems not to care.
I teach English to the juniors, along with my childhood friend, Negi springfield. He takes the basic English students, and I, Konoka Konoe, take the advanced students.
I'm in my early twenty's, twenty-one to be exact. One of the youngest teachers on this university, which is a good thing because I can relate to my students better. Especially, her.
I remember receiving the 'Tattle tell' book last year for the incoming juniors I would be teaching. Which is the book that holds all the information about the students, criminal records, pictures, history, and blah blah blah. I never really pay attention to them, only skimming over the basics, such as name, age, etc. I was looking over the file of Haruna Saotome. She's the usual college student, rowdy, perverted, which is only amped up by her ability to draw those dirty things.
Then I flipped the page to student number fifteen. My God. That girl was fine.
Setsuna. Setsuna Sakurazaki. She has the prettiest onyx eyes, clearer than the sky on a cloudless day, and deeper than the ocean. Her skin is pale, she has no tan at all (which amazes me to no end), and it makes her soft, gorgeous, raven hair stick out even more.
She's a small girl, a few inches over five foot, but she makes up for the loss in height by her skills in combat. Setsuna does kendo, not surprising, since on her file it states she came from Kyoto, from the Shinmeiryu samurai school. Many times, once that clock hits ten o'clock, I find myself outside the kendo club doors; watching her take off that sweaty armor, set it on the floor, and rub at those stiff, lean, thighs.
And sometimes when I'm teaching, I have to walk out of the room, just to keep from throwing her down and fucking her in front of my other thirty-one students.
I don't have an extremely high libido, but that girl makes it shoot through the roof.
I slip my English book onto my desk, pick up a yellow piece of chalk, and scribble something on the board. Then, I take a look at my students, all of them wide awake and paying attention, but she's lazily looking over her notebook, casting a glazed over look at me. I swear she does it on purpose, wearing that tight gray, striped polo. The one she wears every Friday. The one that hugs her curves, makes her breast look so firm.
Mmmm...I really want to crawl across that desk and-
I shake my head, snapping my attention away from the girl that makes me have the wettest at night, and I swallow. Come on Konoka, only one more minute.
"The phrase Dramatic Poetry or Poetic Drama very simply refers to poetic language spoken aloud by characters in a drama or, in the case of individual poems, poetic language which suggests a strongly dramatic context. For example, poetry directed to a particular listener in a specific setting, as in dramatic monologues. This definition is very loose, but for our purposes, what is particularly important is that Shakespeare's dramatic language is largely poetry, and thus a full appreciation for what matters in any particular play needs to take into account the poetic quality of the spoken language."
Brrrrrrrrr-ing
"Ah. Looks like we're out of time girls. Make sure you bring your books tomorrow." I yell, watching with a smile as my students scurry out the door. All of them leave slowly, minus Setsuna. She's always the last one out.
She pushes those angular bangs past her ear, slipping her books into her bag, bending over and flashing me just a hint of cleavage. I lick my lips, feeling my clothes get a little tighter.
Setsuna picks up her book bag, smiling at me, "Good-bye, Konoka-sensei."
"Oh, Setsuna?" I murmur, watching that tight, firm, butt sway, as she walks to the door. She turns around immediately, like she's expecting something, "Yes?" she asks, in that low, husky voice.
God, I love that voice. It makes my insides turn into mush.
"Do you mind staying after for a few minutes? I have something I'd like to talk to you about." I reply cooly, walking over to her seat. I pat it.
She looks down in thought, chewing on her bottom lip, while tugging on a strand of her ebony hair. Finally, she looks up, and shoots me a giant grin. "Sure, I'd be happy too."
I smile, and my heart beat speeds up a little.
Setsuna flips her hair, sending the longest piece over her shoulder, as she walks back over to her desk. She drops her bag onto the floor, the thud being the only sound that echoes in the room, and she sits in her chair and licks her lips. "So?" she asks, holding her hands in her lap, as she looks at me.
I get up, flicking the lights off in a careless gesture, swinging my hips naughtily. I turned around, to see her cheeks aglow, a bright crimson. Her eyes watch my hips, mouth agape. Then back to my face. Then back to the skirt gripping my hips. She can't take her eyes off me. I love it.
She opens her mouth to speak, but snaps it shut, not trusting her voice I guess. I giggle a little, walking over to her desk.
"S-sen-sensei?" she squeaks out, her blush spreads to her neck, and I can practically see steam shutting out of her ears.
I lick my lips, I push my way past her desk, and I grab her strong shoulders and straddle her hips. My finger finds it's way to her lips, shushing her. I grind against her slowly, and she let's out a strangled gasp from the friction.
Her hands, calloused from the sword she wields, find their way to my blouse feeling me up. Her eyes are wide, she's looking at me like she's afraid, like she doesn't know what's happening. But, there's this darkness in them, hunger. Desire.
"How about we become Shakespeare and make some poetry, Set-Chan?"
Then I let loose, tearing her pony tail holder out, and I capture her mouth in an open mouth kiss. Our tongues meet, playing with each other. Setsuna angles her mouth, thrusting her tongue deeper into my mouth.
Her lips taste wonderful, like chocolate ice cream, and I can't get enough of it. She takes dominance most of the time, cupping my cheeks with one hand, sucking on my lips until their swollen from her kisses. Setsuna's fast, powerful, but she's gentle with me. It makes my heart melt.
Then I take over and have my way with her mouth, stroking the inside of her cheek, sucking on that delightfully pink tongue of her's. I feel her moaning into my mouth, squeezing tighter on me.
But, for some reason us humans have the need for oxygen.
So we pulled away, gasping for breath, still holding each other. Her hair's a tangled mess, I must've been pulling it when we were kissing. Whoops!
Setsuna looks me in the eye, all the nervousness they betrayed earlier is gone, replaced with hunger and want. "Sensei," she begins, but she restarts seconds later "Konoka, Kono-chan. I...If we do this..I..honestly, I won't have any control." she whispers breathlessly, brushing one of my chocolate locks back, lingering on my jaw line.
My glasses tumble of my face, landing in her lap, before dropping to the floor. I run my hands through her hair, smiling as I notice for the first time, she has a small little beauty mark under her right eye. Sighing, I bite down to keep the joy rising up inside me. (Don't want to ruin the mood.)
My reply to that is a tender kiss to her thin lips, and I notice, there's a small hole. I lick it, satisfied when she gives me a small moan, which sounds more like a giggle. "My lip's pierced." she explained, a sheepish smile gracing her lips.
I smile warmly, "Such a bad girl."
She pushes me on top of her desk, smirking as she places a knee between my legs, already wet, "I know."
So, that's how our relationship started.
Come to find out, she had the hots for me too, ever since she saw me here. Hmm. What to say now? Well, our relationship is always physical. Never more. But...I kind of want it to be something more. I want to be her girl. I want her to sweep me off my feet, take me away from my grandfather.
Our 'tutoring' session happens everyday, as soon as class ends. The other students don't really care, or bother to ask why she stays after every day. I mean, I would. She's my top student, always aces tests. A good writer, poet. She's so sweet. A little angel.
It's our last session before we go on summer break. I can feel the tears pricking the corner of my eyes, but I hold them back, as I shimmy my skirt up, and walk back to my desk. I'm a little woozy from the mind blowing orgasm she gave me, so I wobble a little.
I close my eyes, wishing she would love me, not just for my body. But I don't think she does. I'm just making stupid wishes. Like she would ever go out with her teacher, her bookworm teacher.
Setsuna's pulling her pants up, shuffling around to find her shirt. Finally, she finds her shirt, pulling it over her curvy sides, brushing some of the wrinkles out of it. She looks at me for a minute, unsure if she should ask me what's wrong. Setsuna runs a hand over her hair, looking for her hair tie, wondering if it was thrown somewhere across the room in the midst of our passion.
I have her hair tie. It's on my wrist, but she won't be getting it back. I'm desperate to keep something of her with me over the summer.
Eventually, she gives up on finding it, combing her fingers through it to make it look presentable. Set-Chan slips on her sandals, quietly picking up her backpack, as she seems to ignore the sobs threatening to escape my throat. She rolls it onto her back, looking at the doorway for a minute. A bead of sweat rolls down her firm set jaw line. Setsuna wipes it away with a flick of her hair, sending it flying onto the floor. She crab steps to the door, casting nervous glances at me.
Click
The door opens, and I choke. It slams shut, and I hear her shuffle across the room. The familiar scuff of her pants hitting the carpet ring in my ears. She appears next to my side, wrapping her slender arms around my waist, pulling me close.
She kisses my temple, rubbing my waist. Then, she turns me around to face her. She smiles, grabbing my hand and pulling it to her lips, in a tender kiss.
Setsuna holds my hands, both are clammy from our tutoring, and she chuckles and smiles. It's a genuine one too. Her eyes crinkle, the dimples on her cheeks make themselves know, and her eyes are so warm, and gentle.
"Look," she begins shyly, blushing as she looks me in the eyes, "I like you, in a different way than we've been expressing it. And I was wondering if," she brandishes two white tickets, squeezing my hands tighter. I squeeze tighter to let her know I'm listening.
"I-I was wondering if, later you'd like to watch a movie with me and have dinner?"
Hot tears streak down my face, and I jump into her arms, and she catches me. "Yes!"
"I love you." She whispers in my ear.
"I love you too, Setsuna."
I was right. I knew there was something special about her, from the first time we made love. And I was right.
Me: Soooo...this was sitting on my computer for awhile. I decided to publish it.
Kazumi: Mhhmmmm. Coincidence that you dreamed this up?
Mana: Yes. Yes he did.
Me: Shush!
Mana: BACK TO YOUR BODY IS A WONDERLAND!
Everyone: WHOO-RAH! REMEMBER TO REVIEW!
Me: *passes out* Nighty night..zzzzzzz...