getting detention in nudes 3

"You must have been out with a few boys for them to find out that you aren't that sort of girl, Emma."

Emma thought back to the only boy she had been out with. The date had been a total disaster except that, whenever she thought about it now, a strange tingling feeling crept through her thighs and tummy. She felt her nipples tighten and harden as the memory crystalized in her mind.

Elyse and Jennifer had been right about Mike. He'd spent half the evening clumsily trying to get his hand inside her blouse and the other half trying to get his hand into her panties. He'd almost succeeded too - and what was worse, she had wanted him to succeed, except that each time he'd touched her, she'd been reminded of her step-father. How was she supposed to tell Mr. Johnson that? She hesitated but she knew that she didn't dare say anything about her step-father."

"How many boys have you been out with, Emma?"

Lucy squirmed uncomfortably and kept silent. She didn't want to discuss Mike with him - he'd think that she was just another bitch in heat. Besides, she hadn't even told Elyse or Jennifer yet about her date with Mike.

Her teacher persisted. "So many? Have you lost count, Emma?"

"No sir," she said, outraged at the suggestion. "Only one, sir."

"I see, and this one, he tried to touch you..."

"No, sir, I wouldn't allow that."

"I can't believe that, Emma. He must have tried, a pretty girl like you."

She blushed, "Yes, sir. He did try."

"I'm sure he did," said her teacher sympathetically. "Where did he touch you Emma?"

The sudden change in tone caught Emma by surprise. The words escaped quickly out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"On my bust, sir," she muttered, still conscious of her hardened nipples chafing against the rough towel.

"Breasts, Emma - the word is breast. I thought you liked English."

"Yes, sir I do. It's my favorite subject."

Her teacher smiled cynically.

"I wouldn't expect you to tell your English teacher that you hated English. So he touched your breast did he?"

Emma blushed crimson. Her teacher was still holding her underwear and she was sure that he was staring at her breasts while they were discussing them. Her erect nipples refused to subside. The more her teacher talked about her breasts the harder her nipples grew. She tried desperately to change the subject

"Do you think my clothes are dry yet, sir?"

"Why? Are you feeling cold?"

"Well... yes, sir, and this towel is too small. I'd really feel better with my clothes on."

He ignored her and took a bottle from the shelf and filled two glasses.

"Here drink this, it'll warm you up a bit."

Lucy looked at the glass of amber liquid suspiciously.

"What is it, sir? It's not alcoholic is it?"

"It's medicinal. Drink it up, it won't hurt you."

He handed the glass to Emma and as she reached for it the towel slipped exposing her firm breasts to his gaze. She snatched the towel back to cover herself and almost dropped the glass. She scrambled to balance the glass and pulled the towel up too far. Her teacher was treated to an unrestricted view of her slim thighs and the barely concealed swell of her sex. He smiled tolerantly as Emma blushed in confusion.

"I can see why boys have tried to touch your breasts. They aren't very big yet but they're well shaped and they look very firm."

Emma blushed more deeply. She was confused by the constant shifting of the conversation to intimate matters that were none of his business. She gulped at her drink and almost choked as the whisky burned her throat. It tasted terrible to her untutored palate but as the alcohol warmed her stomach, the glow spread like a gentle caress into her breasts and thighs.

"It’s meant to be sipped. You really are a strange child. Don't you like compliments?"

"I don't mind compliments but it feels strange from you. I mean - what you said was very personal and you are my teacher."

"I'm also a man Emma. And I'm talking as a man who thinks that you're very attractive. Firm shapely breasts, slim waist and I can't pretend that I didn't see those long legs and lovely thighs."

Emma felt the heat of blood as it rushed to her face. She also felt something else that she couldn't define. Each time he mentioned her breasts they tingled as if in response to his attention. She was flattered by the older man's attention but she felt uneasy about the way he was talking. Surely her teacher shouldn't say things like this to her.

"You really are very beautiful Emma. I just can't understand why you're ashamed of such a perfect body."

She couldn't understand why he kept talking about her body, especially as he seemed to regard her as little more than a kid. She sipped her drink and, as the fiery spirit coursed through her veins it intensified the heated sensation in her breasts and thighs. The alcohol was also making her feel more relaxed and confident. She made up her mind that she wouldn't allow her teacher to intimidate her.

"I'm not ashamed of my body, sir, I'm just not used to discussing it with my English teacher."

"Of course you're ashamed. You say bust instead of breast and you've probably got some baby word for your vagina as well."

Emma was uncomfortably aware of the growing sensation in her breasts. Her nipples stiffened and chaffed against the rough towel as her teacher taunted her. When he mentioned her vagina she felt it trigger a warm dampness between her legs.

She bit her lower lip as she tried to hide her embarrassment behind an air of defiance.

"I'm not ashamed of anything."

"Not even boys who feel your breasts?"

"It's not my fault what boys want to do to me. I've done nothing to be ashamed of."

Emma knew it was a lie. Even now, her breasts throbbed urgently with an urgent desire to be touched and she felt her face flush hot with shame. If he would just stop talking about them she could stop thinking about them and the feeling might stop. She gulped more liquor to cover her embarrassment but it only fueled the unwanted arousal. Her nipples were aching and so hard that her teacher couldn't fail to notice their excited condition.

She was surprised when he apologized in a soft voice.

"I'm sorry if I upset you. Of course you've got nothing to be ashamed of - in fact you should be proud of your body."

He smiled reassuringly and Emma forgot her embarrassment. Maybe he wasn't such an ogre after all. He did have a nice smile when he forgot about being a teacher. It was easy to see why so many of the girls had a crush on him. If she kept him sweet, he might even let her go early. She smiled back cautiously and decided that he'd like her more if she tried to be more adult.

He must have thought that she was immature and childish to be shocked by what was evidently normal adult conversation. Whatever he said, she vowed silently to be pleasant and polite to him.

"I'm sorry too, for being over sensitive," she said impulsively.

He smiled broadly, "That's all right it was my fault for badgering you."

He paused and looked directly into the youngster's wide green eyes.

"Tell me one thing though, what word do you use for your vagina?"

Her heart jolted at the sudden switch of mood and she pressed her thighs together tightly in an attempt to stem the warm moisture that seeped from her awakened vagina. She didn't want him to see that he had shocked her but more importantly, she couldn't let him see how his words were arousing her.

"If I have to talk about it, I use the same word as you," replied the youngster trying to ignore the nervous thudding of her heart.

"Say it then, don't be embarrassed about a word."

Emma hoped that he would be satisfied if she obeyed. Uncomfortably aware of the pulsing heat and moisture between her legs.

As the pressure mounted, her mind weighed down by the lust. she knew she had no choice but to obey him, even though it went against her principles. whereas he reluctantly want to talk about these things a sense of desire settled over him, leaving readers on the edge of their seats, eager to uncover the consequences of his actions in the next chapter.

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