Compulsion: A Tale Of Two Teachers’ Impropriety.(Closed)

Compulsion: A Tale Of Two Teachers’ Impropriety.

Male: 41, 6‘, medium build, science professor, dishevelled, anti-social but has some wry charm, has a thing for large breasts, devious, unscrupulous. He has learned of a work colleague’s unladylike secret.

Female: 32, 5’7” 38F/28/38 teaches English, introvert, secretive, moderately attractive face with a fabulous body she tries to conceal. She has a secret persona; she would be mortified if anyone found out.


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He was waiting in the car park for her to arrive. She had been here teaching English for two years now while unknowingly feeding his fantasies.

Gracefully decanting from her car, he, as usual, took the opportunity to watch her. Magnificent breasts thrust out the lapels of her fastened jacket, she had the white blouse on underneath, he’d noticed it before, letting know the lace pattern of her substantial but feminine brassier. Her suit’s matching grey skirt wrapped tautly around her thighs and ass, no stockings today, it was quite warm. This was as risqué as she got. He always thought of her having stockings, but no proof, it suited his perverted caricature of her; the one he often masturbated with. No doubt some of the boys in her English classes did so as well even tho she had an aura of cool asexual detachment, but her body was incompatible with this demeanour. (Look, but don’t touch me, if fact don’t look either! How dare you!) Well he would dare, now that he knows all about Miss English teacher’s dirty little secret.



He greeted her with an unusual inflection in his voice, informing her he would like to tell her something before she went inside. She always expected some comment from him most mornings. Always seeming to take the opportunity to glance at her breasts as he did so, did he not know it was obvious? She returned his greeting as she would any co-worker and gave him a cursory smile. Without preamble he asked her if she remembered that they crossed on the stairs last Friday evening, she leaving, he going in to do some work on the school computer. As soon as he mentioned it she changed from mildly disinterested to seeming perturbed. He asked her if she realised she hadn’t logged off the computer properly. She did seem rather flushed on the stairs he recalled. Her expression of dread showed how rapidly she had deduced what he knew. To confirm her fear he simply announced: ‘Literotica‘? She almost fainted. She was speechless. Her eyes were asking plenty of questions tho, like; could he see my utter shame? And probably most important, what was he going to do? Little miss prim and proper had been found out. He grinned. The reply to her pleading glistening eyes was that she was to meet him in the storeroom in five minutes. Before she could respond, he left her searching for a tissue from within her handbag.

Power is an aphrodisiac they say, well he had power, his cock told him so.


She was waiting for him in the rather gloomy room. The lights were off but there was a window partly obscured by shelving. She had regained her voice and was busy explaining her outrage, also her this that and the other. When she saw he was not interested in debating anything with her she stopped talking and stared at him, at which point he informed her only he knew of her indiscretion and if she didn’t want it revealed to the whole staff room then she had a choice: he could make her indiscretion known with no comeback to himself, or, she could show him her breasts.

She was as shocked at this as she was when she learned that he knew about her explicitly detailed online erotic escapades.

She seemed reluctant to make a choice, therefore he began describing her posted story of what she described as her favourite masturbatory fantasy… she winced and complied.

Her jacket fell to the floor, her eyes closed and she gritted her teeth. She undid her blouse in a rather matter of fact way, as if she was at the doctor’s. He insisted she turned toward the window so her breasts were better illuminated, or maybe he could turn on the mass of fluorescent tubes above? She moved toward the window, breasts held firm and high by the exposed bra. He told her to remove it. She looked at him as if she thought she had done enough to quell his depraved desire; she knew she had no choice. He could ask almost anything of her, she had such a strong desire to preserve her reputation borne of a strict upbringing, tho her libido was trying its best to escape its confines. She turned her back and undid the last barrier of her modesty.


He was already significantly aroused; by his power over her, the sight of her impressive breasts confined within the bra, indeed the whole situation. He rarely wore underpants therefore his trousers were forcibly distended.

She removed the bra, a glorious orb of flesh plopped out to her side, arching outward from her ribcage. She commenced the instruction to turn slowly to the reveal the full magnificence of her breasts for his gratification. Truly beautiful, full and slightly too big for her frame but not a caricature, these were his ideal, wonderful natural breasts. He commented that their image at Literotica didn’t do them justice. She closed her eyes in reply her mouth seemed disgusted. The flesh freed from the bra’s confines formed a curvaceous inverted V as they distended sideward, protruding forward firmly to belie their grandeur. Large areola circled thick nipples that promised extravagant enlargement. He moved toward them.


Neither of them spoke as he placed his hand on the outer bulge of the slightly larger right one. He felt the enticingly smooth skin scarcely yielding to touch. Tho it was quite warm she was trembling, making her engorging nipples dance for him. He continued to paw her breast considerately while watching both nipples grow considerably. Filling his hand with breast, he felt the weightiness while enjoying her apparent discomfort at its doing, tho her nipples were huge and a flush spread across her chest. A simple flick of a single finger across the erect teat produced a muted squeal and a body shudder that made her breasts jiggle and his rigid cock ooze.


Her heavy breast lifted by hand, he sucked the nipple into his mouth, the surprise of which made her recoil to the sound of a slippery wet cork exiting a vacuum. They jounced for his great pleasure then distorted as she placed her hands on them to douse their movement and perhaps in a belated and futile attempt at irretrievable modesty. She allowed a gasp to pass her lips as she noticed his crotch.

His erection was becoming ominous and he shortly had a class, as did she.
Grabbing a ream of A4 and with a final stare at her tits, he left her bare-chested and confused. She may have thought her ordeal was over but he had plans for her, and some he hadn’t even devised yet.

[COLOR=#2288a]"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Althea Fulgham stood as still as a statue for all of five seconds before scrambling for her clothing. Her fingers trembled as she fastened her bra, bending forward to ease her breasts into its delicate lace confines, refusing to let the tears that were welling up in her eyes flow.

She'd been idiotic to access Lit from a computer in the school. Beyond idiotic. And it served her right to have been caught out. By the time she had buttoned her jacket, smoothed her hands over her skirt and smoothed down her shoulder length blonde hair, Althea was no longer sure if she was outraged or aroused, though she was most definitely frightened.

Her morning classes passed quickly, though her pulse quickened and she felt that almost incredible ache between her legs every time she thought of him (and his obvious arousal). Fear that she would lose her position was the only thing holding the urge to go into the staff lavatory to bring herself off at bay.

"Penny for your thoughts." Althea nearly jumped out of her skin when Jillian Newman interrupted her perverse reverie in the teachers' lounge that afternoon. "Are you all right? You seem... "

"I'm fine," she answered abruptly, nearly tearing the brown bag that held her lunch as she struggled to remove the sandwich and apple she had packed.

Jillian tilted her head and looked at her colleague with overt consternation and not a little curiosity. Althea Fulgham, the Ice Queen as she was commonly referred to among the faculty, was not the type to be either distracted nor jangled and the grapevine had been buzzing all day.

She had sent three students to the principal's office, citing various and sundry misdeeds that were normally handled within the classroom; not unusual, but unusual for her. It was, however, Althea's presence in the teachers' lounge throughout the day that had begun the curious whisperings among the other teachers. The woman was almost always solitary, seeming to prefer her own company than that of others. "Maybe it's a fever?" Jillian persisted.

"I'm fine!" Althea said a bit more softly though she had risen to her feet and was now moving toward the trash can to dispose of her uneaten food before sweeping from the room with a brusque "I have a class" over her shoulder.

She hadn't seen him all day but now, she glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, she only had one more class and then... Althea's heart began to pound. He knew her membername. He had obviously read her posts. What else did he know or had he assumed? It made her shiver in a way that was appallingly arousing.

Althea shook it off and sighed. Bottom line: her position at the school was at stake -- as well as her reputation. She considered how many teachers had made both national and international news in the past year or so for bedding students and had little doubt that her own peccadillos would allow her to slink away secretively to fade into the night. "Stupid," she muttered under her breath. "So damned stupid!"[/COLOR]

Dr. Emrys Pritchard felt stupid carrying a ream of paper so low down, across his embarrassment. Despite the change of circumstance (he was now in a populated hallway), his erection was stubbornly persistent and walking meant it was being rubbed by the cloth of his trousers whilst jolting around. The vision of Althea’s breasts floated in front of him, mingling with everything else. It was no good he had to do something. He changed direction and headed for the toilets.

Inside, he realised there were others about but his need was urgent, he entered the furthest booth. His belt undone, his trousers dropped by their own weight, his long thick horn strained vertical, hot and nervous. He gripped it; it could not be more solid than if he were 18 again. He could see her breasts vividly, their nipples dancing about, he wanked fiercely. He tried to control his breathing, muffle his moans while the arousal of this early morning was being subjugated by a hand blurring his foreskin back and forth over bulbous glans, the noise was to a great extent drowned by the background babble of chatter against tiled walls. Standing hunched, a few seconds of difficulty muffling his frenzied masturbating culminated in orgasmic release that forced a heavy gasp outward as a stream of ejaculate made several places he would have to clean up before he left. Still erect but less so, he used the time it would take his phallus to become docile to use several tissues on it, and the surrounding areas. His cock gradually became acceptable for society and, his lust temporarily doused, he became more rational.

Possibilities danced about his neurons regarding Althea and her breasts, her magnificent breasts. He could sense a renewed stirring, so he concentrated on his classes instead, put her to the back of his mind which insisted on flashing her, them, to the forefront of his attention throughout the day, especially when his better endowed female students tested their flirty tactics on him. However, he had Althea Fulgham to toy with and as the school day neared its end, he dared contemplate what he wanted to do with her. He absolutely knew he had her where he desired ever since he arrived in the States from his native Wales to take up this post. Dr. Emrys Pritchard’s furtive obsession with big tits has been shadowing him since adolescence, where some of his colleagues claim he remains.

Classes finished, he headed for the teacher’s lounge he had avoided all day, for his sake not hers. Now he wanted to speak to her, sit right next to her, perhaps whisper near, but certainly discreetly discuss her thoughts on the erotic pleasures of posting pictures of herself at Literotica, and perhaps he should also mention how well regarded one of her stories was, the one about being spanked. He’d enjoy watching her squirm as she tried to hide the fact that Emrys was making her squirm! Students stared at him as he laughed out loud in the corridor, his hand reaching out for the door handle.

[COLOR=#2288a]By the time the final bell sounded and the students began their stampede from their classrooms to buses and cars, Althea still hadn't decided what to do about Emrys Pritchard. Her first instinct was to lose herself in the crowd and hurry to her car, her next was to search him out and... And what? Finish what he'd started this morning?? She almost laughed out loud. Of course she couldn't do that, but she did need to find out what he intended to do with the information he was holding over her head. Okay, then. Where? The lounge, she decided. Few, if any, of their colleagues would be there, most were in just as much a hurry to get home as their pupils. And if he tried anything... well, someone was likely to walk in. Right? Right. Something about safety in possible but not probable numbers.

Standing up from her desk, Althea placed her Plan Book and the papers she had to review and grade into her briefcase. She smoothed her hands over her clothes and through her hair, buttoned her jacket and took a deep fortifying breath. She'd stop by Pritchard's classroom and suggest they speak. As it turned out, she didn't have to make the detour, having spotted him over the deluge of fleeing teenagers as he let himself into the lounge.

By the time she reached the door, her heart was pounding. This was madness, she thought for the hundredth time and started to turn away.

"Ms. Fulgham."

Althea froze midstep.

"Won't you... join me?"

His voice brought the memory of what he had said and done -- what they had done -- what he had made her do -- come rushing back. She could feel the heat spreading throughout her body. Did she stay? Should she just walk away?

"Ms. Fulgham."

Again. Althea only realized she had been holding her breath when his hand touched her elbow and she gasped.

"Join me for a cup of tea?" His grip on her arm tightened ever so slightly as he spoke, softly, intently, brooking no argument.

If she pulled away someone would surely notice. A scene in front of the few straggling students was something she couldn't risk. She had to go. Had to follow. Althea closed her eyes and nodded, turning as Dr. Pritchard eased his hold and held the door open.

Her blood was coursing alternately hot and cold in her veins as he closed the door behind them. Just as he had this morning. Just as... And they were alone here as well. Even he wouldn't be so foolish as to try anything here of all places. They'd talk. They would just talk. Straighten things out. After all, she was an adult, yes? Her private life was her own business. Wasn't it? Althea tried to smile. In most cases it was, yes. But she had been stupid and made it someone else's as well.

"Dr. Pritchard... " Althea began as he walked past her toward the pot of hot water and two cups that were waiting on the counter. "I... " Her mouth clamped shut. An enormous knot filled her throat. As brave as she had meant to be, she no longer knew what to say. She'd take the high road and let him lay his cards on the table. It was obvious that he wanted something -- something more than this morning. Althea shivered, a combination of nervousness and expectation.[/COLOR]