School History
The ringing of the phone forced her to open her eyes. Nastya stretched sweetly and turned off the alarm. Today was the first of September. She had always loved this day when she was in school. And today this day was even more exciting: for the first time, she would enter the classroom as a teacher. This year she had graduated from the pedagogical university with honors, which she was very proud of. And today she would teach her first lesson. She was given fifth-grade classes, her favorite age group...
The first of September passed as a bright, colorful holiday, followed by hectic weekdays. Life didn't just run; it flew at the speed of light. Nastya was the favorite of the fifth-graders, young, attractive, with a beautiful, slender figure,
followed by the gazes of the older students, and their lingering looks made her blush deeply. After the New Year, at a teachers' meeting, the principal announced that the history teacher had retired and resigned due to health reasons. It was decided to entrust the two graduating classes to the young but already well-proven teacher Anastasia Andreevna. Nastya's heart skipped a beat... this was trust and great responsibility...Gradually, over time, they got used to each other. And it seemed everything had settled into its own groove... But one class was strikingly different in its composition from the other, as if they had been selected based on the principle of sexual development. Class "A" focused on studying, preparing for exams. Crushes, likes, and dislikes somehow passed quietly, without crossing the bounds of decency. But "B" was distinguished by its temperament, outbursts of loud scandals and showdowns, mostly over the attention of the boys. Honestly, over one boy. Bored, he played with the girls like a cat with mice, now drawing them close, now pushing them away, often pitting them against each other and watching their fights from the sidelines.
Finally, he grew tired of these games and wanted something more unusual, extraordinary. The March holidays were approaching. Ignat, that was the name of the local stealer of girls' hearts, suddenly began paying attention to Nastya. She was terribly embarrassed, seeing how this amused the boys in his class and angered the girls. Everything about him infuriated and irritated her: his brazen, appraising looks, his insolent remarks and clarifications about what she was teaching in class. She was amazed by his knowledge of details and minutiae that she didn't know. And he, with a triumphant look, having supplemented her story with colorful details, sprawled insolently at his desk, openly looking at her, undressing her with his eyes. If only she knew what it cost him to find, to dig up those grains of the unknown, just to show off his knowledge in class later. But Nastya decided she had to stop these discussions and several times rather rudely put him in his place during the lesson, outdoing him with facts...
But again the door swung open and Ignat entered with an armful of dazzlingly white, delicate tulips. Nastya froze, not daring to utter a word. And he, theatrically dropping to one knee, suddenly began wailing in a high-pitched voice some poem about the queen of his dreams and desires. The class laughed so hard the windows rattled. Nastya's face broke out in blotches... Losing control, she slapped the guy and rushed out of the classroom. The class fell silent... "Well, you're a real jerk..." only the top student Svetka said, and, grabbing her bag, left the classroom. The other girls followed her. erotic stories The boys laughed again, now at Ignat... His face darkened, he tossed the bouquet aside, which scattered like a delicate white salute, and said: "Bet you she'll be mine?!" "She's not like our girls for you to grope their tits — answered his friend Sasha, — but okay, let's do it! If you lose the bet, you put a status on VKontakte, whatever I come up with; if you manage to get her into bed — I'll write whatever you say." "Deal..." Ignat hissed through his teeth...
They walked slowly along the sunny street, talking about nothing and everything. He told her he lived only with his mother, who was constantly on business trips, that he could cook and manage the household himself. While talking, they reached Nastya's house. She thanked Ignat for the company and went into the entrance. But the door didn't have time to slam shut: Ignat whirled in after her and pressed her against the wall. An angry tirade never left her lips; he covered them with his own, masterfully, in a manly way, firmly holding her hands, giving her no chance to resist. She melted, her body disobeyed her, responding to his kiss with a tremor and a wave of arousal. And he, tearing himself away from her, looking into her eyes, whispered: "Sorry..." and dashed out of the entrance.
Nastya spent the holiday with her former classmates, meeting at one of their apartments. But all her thoughts were occupied by the student. No matter how she tried to drive them away, she sometimes ran a finger over her lips with a smile, remembering the kiss...
Arriving at work, the first thing she did was go to the homeroom teacher of 11 "B". Talking about the overall academic performance and discipline in the class, she gradually moved on to individual students and asked for brief characterizations. She was on edge the whole time until the homeroom teacher got to Ignat. The characterization was typical for a troublemaker: left to his own devices, repeated a grade somewhere due to poor performance, the oldest in the class, the military enlistment office couldn't wait for him to leave the school walls.
Nastya went to the lesson with mixed feelings, not knowing how to behave with him. Entering the classroom, she was stunned: Ignat was sitting on a desk with a classmate in his arms, whispering something intimately in her ear, lightly stroking her leg under the hem of her dress with his hand. Some incomprehensible feeling of annoyance, jealousy, disappointment in herself and her vague hopes overwhelmed her. But pulling herself together, she conducted the lesson, avoiding meeting his gaze.
And after school, he was waiting for her again on the porch. "I'll walk myself..." she muttered and tried to walk past him. He insolently pressed her against the school door and looked into her eyes, lifting her chin with his finger. Fearing someone might see, Nastya hissed: "Let me go!!! Go to your girlfriend!" Ignat grinned smugly and took her bag from her hands: "Let's go, my girl!" Nastya didn't understand what was happening to her; she silently descended the steps
He walked her to the entrance and followed her inside again. She stood and looked at him, feeling her legs tremble, waiting for his kiss. Now he was in no hurry; tenderly cupping her head, he first covered her face with small kisses, and only then captured her lips in his captivity, slipping his hand under her raincoat and lightly squeezing her breast. Suddenly he tore himself away from her and shouted: "Goodbye, Anastasia Andreevna!" and dashed out of the entrance. A neighbor was coming down from upstairs...
And the school days flew by, bringing the final exams closer. Ignat played with Nastya skillfully, like an experienced man: now inflaming her with kisses and touches in the entrance or after school in the classroom, now suddenly switching to his classmates, flirting and groping them right in front of her, making her grind her teeth.
Nastya spent the May holidays with her parents in the village, playing with her nieces and trying not to think about Ignat. Her mother noticed that her daughter would occasionally sparkle, her face lighting up, but didn't ask anything. The holidays outdoors brought their results—Nastya fell ill. Taking sick leave, she lay at home watching all the TV series and marveling at how much she had missed. Her young body took its course, and she quickly recovered.
The morning was sunny and immediately lifted her spirits with the chirping of birds outside the window and the first green fuzz on the trees. Getting ready for her doctor's appointment, Nastya took a shower and was drying her hair. Through the noise of the hairdryer, the doorbell rang. It was the neighbor who had promised to buy her bread on the way. Nastya flung open the door and gasped in surprise. Ignat stood there with a bouquet of yellow daffodils. Confidently stepping into the hallway, he slammed the door and hugged her, enveloping her with the scent of outdoor freshness and spring. "How I missed you, my girl!" he whispered in her ear, touching it with his lips. His hot breath touched the skin on her neck, making her tremble. She couldn't think straight, and he, sinking his lips into hers, scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the room. The guy had already laid her on the bed in the bedroom and was hurriedly unbuttoning his shirt when she, frantically tightening the belt on her robe, tried to jump up. Ignat, like a predator, immediately lunged for her hands, raising them above her head, pinning her to the bed and leaning on them, not letting her move, looking into her eyes clearly, with metal in his voice, he said: "You're mine!" She looked at him fearfully, feeling arousal throughout her body, a tremor inside; it seemed every cell screamed of desire.
She gave in... she no longer wanted to resist. Come what may, but she wanted him. He read it all in her eyes. The belt flew aside, the robe fell open, revealing a slender naked body, exuding a light scent of shower gel. Devouring her with his eyes, admiring her face red with embarrassment, Ignat shed all his clothes. Nastya breathed heavily, looking at his body, so desired and drawing the eye with its readiness for sex. But Ignat was in no hurry... he spent a long time skillfully caressing her body, until she was sobbing and begging him to take her, until the sheet beneath her was soaked with desire. Caressing now with his lips, now with his tongue, penetrating her hot core with his fingers, making her writhe, thrash on the bed, clench the sheets until they crackled. And then he loomed over her, looking into her face, barely touching the swollen head of his member to the parted, tender, moist petals waiting for him... Nastya couldn't stand it and, lifting her hips, digging her fingers into his buttocks, impaled herself on him, moaning from how gently his member slid inside, parting her lips, filling her with supreme pleasure...
He moved measuredly, unhurriedly, savoring every movement and listening to her moans. Then he withdrew from her and turned her onto her stomach. Lifting her by the waist, he leaned down, smacked her buttocks soundly, and entered her again slowly... completely... like a conqueror, teasing her nipples with his fingers and squeezing her breasts. But now he moved strongly and quickly, as if driving himself into her body. She moaned, cried out, thrashing in his hands. Ignat, giving a slight growl, immediately exploded inside, making a few more powerful thrusts.
And then they drank coffee. And made love again. And drank coffee again... and made love again... In the morning they went to school together; on the way, Ignat stopped by to grab his bag with textbooks, even though classes had already ended and pre-exam consultations had begun.
At school, Nastya, glowing with happiness, wrote her resignation letter. And only the gray-haired deputy principal, shaking her head sorrowfully, knew the reason for her departure. But, wise with great life experience, she did not try to stop or lecture her.
The exams ended. Classmates laughed at the vulgar and stupid status Ignat had on VKontakte, dictated by his friend. And he and Nastya, holding hands, were riding on the train to meet her parents...