The school bell rang announcing the start of the next period. I have English next, which has quickly become my favourite subject. Knowing this, there is a bit of pep in my step. I get to my classroom and sit down in my seat. Despite my love of this class, I'm not doing well in it. This year my English class is being taught by NAME_1, and to put it plainly she's very distracting.

The second bell rings and the rest of the class takes their seats and I get a clear view of the angel in front of the whiteboard. NAME_1 is turned away from the class giving me a good view of her backside. She's dressed in relatively conservative attire, a long black pencil skirt that hugs her mature peach-shaped butt, black high heels accompanied by tights that travel up her long shapely legs, and a white blouse that fits tightly over her shapely chest. At the youngest you might think 29 from her figure alone, her modest makeup reveals her age and it is attractive how she isn't compromising on foundation, as if to say "I'm too old to pretend to be young". Given she's married I'd assume early 30s. Her black hair is tied up in a dirty bun, and her eyes are framed by black glasses. She wears practically the same outfit every day, but it suits her so well I can't complain.

I would say we have a good relationship, I just wish it was more. It started when I stayed behind class one day to ask for permission to utilise a book. She was surprised with how adept I was with literature and philosophy, and we found ourselves spending 20, even 30 minutes after class conducting an intellectual transaction. She would recommend me books, works and authors, and I would lap it up like a good boy. She probably just thinks we're more into a mentor-student relationship at this point, thinking she's my intellectual outlet. The reality is the only reason I stay behind is to entertain a fantasy that one day she'll close the blinds, lock the door and suck my dick after class.

As the class goes on I start to daydream as I stare at her. My mind wanders trying to picture her naked. With her mature curves, I can only imagine how sexy her body would be. She isn't some whore pornstar, far from it, she's fucking married. I can feel myself getting turned on the longer my imagination runs wild. As I am lost in my delusions, I fail to hear my name being called over and over.

"Anon!", NAME_1 shouts finally getting my attention. I'm completely caught off guard and snap out of the daydream and respond with, "Present?"
The rest of the class erupts into