Chapter 2

After her experience with Mr. Merran, Thea was plagued by fantasies of doing more with him. She would lock her door and sit in her room, pushing fingers inside her little pussy and imagining it was him. It was no use. She couldn’t recreate that initial ecstasy, no matter how hard she tried.

In her mind, she replayed those brief moments of unbelievable pleasure with him. She could almost feel him, stretching her with his prick, ramming into her like a machine, over and over again. Even if he didn’t look big (he was average, according to the diagrams in sex ed), he filled up a space in her she hadn’t known she had more than enough. She could remember vividly what she’d done after she’d left the classroom...

... Walking out that door was hard. She wanted to run back inside, jump in Mr. Merran’s arms, and beg him to shove his wonderful cock back inside her, even if it ripped her apart. Instead, she snuck into one of the unused classrooms and, hiding behind a desk to doubly make sure no one saw her, she pulled down her soaked panties and stuck a finger inside to see if it was still there. It was!

Lustfully, she pulled out the finger, covered in Mr. Merran’s lovely cum, and put it in her mouth, savoring his essence. She repeated this action until every drop of it was gone, then sighed ruefully. Looking up at the clock, she realized that there were only two minutes left in lunch, and, wishing she’d had more time, she put her panties back on and left...

It was almost a month after the incident, now. Thea was starting to give up hope that she would ever be able to have him again. She started wearing skirts more often to class, giving him glimpses of her panties and hoping he would ask her to stay after again. Quentin, for his part, was having none of it. Much as he would have loved to drill her again, he had a fiancée, and had suffered terrible guilt after that one encounter. He moved Thea to the back of the class and stopped calling on her.

Thea was hurt. She decided to confront him, even though it was very unlike her, and ask him why he was avoiding her. That day, when everyone else had left for lunch, she went to talk to him.

“Oh, hello Thea, what can I do for you?” Mr. Merran asked.

Thinking that perhaps straightforwardness was the best way to go, she said, “Mr. Merran, don’t you want me anymore? I know I want you—no, need you.”

Quentin was a little shocked, to say the least.

“Thea, we can’t discuss that here, someone might walk in and hear us,” he told her in a low voice.

“Fine. Where do you want to talk?” she replied.

“Let’s go to the closet, there’s a little more privacy there,” he said.

Both of them felt a bit of déjà vu, walking into the closet together.

“Now, Thea, I need you to understand, I’ve got a girlfriend that I’m engaged to, and I love her too much to just let her go,” Quentin explained.

Thea nodded, but disappointment filled her eyes.

“What we did—in here—it doesn’t mean anything to you?” she asked softly.

“It was amazing, to say the least,” he said, “and thank you, but we can’t ever—” he paused, trying to think of a way to say ‘fuck’ that a teenage girl would appreciate, “make love, again.”

“Okay,” she murmured sadly.

She left the closet, took up her things, and walked out of the classroom.

Upon reaching the area where she usually hung out with her friends, she discovered that they were all apparently busy with clubs or somewhere else. Feeling a little depressed, and needing someone to talk to, she headed to the counselor’s office.