It wouldn't take too long. He was a teacher and she was a thirteen year old kid with a big crush on him and he would have her begging for his cock. That was a fact. Janice Corman wouldn't be the first one of his teenaged students he would have deflowered and she certainly wouldn't be the last. But he was sure going to enjoy this one. So young and so beautiful and so innocent.
Janice was just turning into the locker room when Rudy called out. "Janice, can you help me put the balls away, please?"
"Sure Mr. Creighton," she answered immediately pleased to be singled out to help the teacher.
"I'll give you a ride home afterwards," he offered as he handed her a couple of nets to fold…
Janice climbed into the car beside him, pulling her school uniform down over her knees. She shuffled her school books on her lap and then as the car shot off, racing around the corner of the Craven driveway, she turned to look at Mr. Creighton. A little thrill of excitement went through her; he was so gorgeous… just like one of those Olympic athletes she had watched on television. He wasn't like a regular teacher at all. And there was a certain expression on his handsome face… the way his lips turned up at the corners when he looked directly at her, the gleam in his heavy-lidded eyes as he glanced her way… that sent little chills marching up and down her spine.
She wasn't allowed to date. Her father was very strict and she was only thirteen but she pretended that that was what this was… a date with Mr. Creighton. Sometimes she'd dream of dating a man like Mr. Creighton, someone who was sophisticated, who'd been around alot. Oh, even through it was only a ride home, it was thrilling.
Reverend Corman had instilled in his daughter the importance of retaining her virginity for the man she married and this was somewhat of a conflict for the beautiful young thirteen year old. There had been times, lying in bed at night, before she'd drifted off to sleep, when she had wondered what it would be like to be with a boy that way. She had even imagined herself letting a boy do the things to her that some of the other girls let them do, like taking her clothes off, and then running their hands up and down her smooth, young body, making it tingle with delight. Or letting them cup her soft, resilient breasts in their strong hands, even teasing and tweaking the nipples until they stood upright in taut, quivering buds.
The blonde youngster tried to brush such thoughts from her mind, knowing that she would never actually let any boy do that to her. But sometimes the thought persisted, and she had even wondered what it would be like to lie back on a bed or a couch somewhere or even in a car, parked in some dark spot near the lake, perhaps to lie there, her body unresisting while he spread her legs and ran his hand up and down the soft sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. And what if his hand actually reached the tiny triangle of her newborn womanhood, and burrowed into the soft, sparse hair that covered her little pussy? What if his fingers reached and stroked the pink, fleshy lips of her cunt?
Even if she let him get that far, would she let him go farther? No, never, she had told herself firmly. Yet she couldn't help thinking of what he might do. He might unzip his fly and take out his bulging penis. He might place it there in her damp, and it always got damp when she thought about such things, hair-lined slit, and then maneuver it around until the blood-swollen bulbous head was poised at the very entrance of her still unplundered cuntal channel.
What would happen next? What if he pushed forward, pushing the stiff prick through the tight resisting muscles that guarded the tiny glistening hole, pressing it into the narrow, velvety channel, deeper and deeper until it filled her belly with its hardness, making her tingle and tremble too, with its throbbing presence?
God forgive me! How sinful she was for leaving these immodest thoughts! Her father would not approve of such indecent and impure musings. But yet she had been unable to help herself. Now, sitting in the car with Mr. Creighton, the vague memories of her lewd thoughts came back to her, almost making her blush. She tried to push them out of her mind, as she had tried before, tried to think of something clever to say to the gym teacher who was now looking at her with a strange expression. She tried to remember some interesting tidbit of conversation that she could discuss with her teacher.
She searched frantically for something to say that might impress on Mr. Creighton how sophisticated she was. "Do you like teaching gym?" she asked and then instantly felt foolish for asking such an inane question.
"Yes," Rudy answered, with a broad grin at her. He shot her an admiring glance, his eyes roving up and down her voluptuous young body that the tartan school uniform could not hide. "Especially when I have beautiful young ladies like you in my class."
Janice blushed furiously.
Suddenly he stretched an arm out, encircling her waist, drawing her to him so that her thigh brushed against his. "Come on over and sit close to me, Janice."
A little thrill of involuntary pleasure rippled through Janice at the electric contact of the teacher's body against hers. Hastily, she tried to suppress it, squirming away from him. But he held her tight imprisoned in his muscular arm. "Mr. Creighton, please… let me go!"
"Gotcha now!"
Thinking he was just playing a little friendly game with her, she decided to be coy. "But, Mr. Creighton, I'm probably a faster runner than you are."
Rudy threw his head back and laughed loudly.
Janice tried to think of something else to say.
She watched the road as it unwound behind them, the streets of the small town. She was still a little excited, a little thrilled at the idea of even being driven home by the athletic coach, one who had been around so much more than she and it made her tongue-tied.
"That's my street there," she said.
"Oh, I thought we'd go down by the beach," he said.
She looked at him, an expression of surprise on her face. "I thought you were driving me right home."
Well you thought wrong, he thought. I might drive you but it's not going to be home! To the youngster he merely said. "It's still warm, we'll go down and check it out."
"Gee, Mr. Creighton, I don't have my bikini or anything maybe I should go home if we're going swimming."
"Oh no, that's not necessary." We sure don't need swimsuits for what we're going to do. His eyes roved over her again, undressing her.
"You know, Janice, I've been watching you in class. I like you. You learn fast. You're a smart kid and a pretty one too."
"Thank you…" the girl stammered.
The teacher's arm had slacked around his pupil's waist before. Now to emphasize his point he tightened his grip, pulling her close to him with a powerful twist of his wrist. He dropped his hand to her knee, then began to trace the length of her thigh, teasingly. His fingers slipped around to the smooth, soft skin of the inner surface, traced that once again.
Once more, a little thrill of involuntary, unwanted pleasure raced through her blood. Gosh, what was happening to her? Whatever it was she was sure that her father would disapprove of it!
"Please, Mr. Creighton…"
"Why, baby?"
"Because," Janice said, "it's not right…"
"We're friends aren't we, Janice?" the teacher asked.
She nodded, thinking about it. "Yes," she said at last.
"Well, what are friends for if they don't show affection for one another. I'm just trying to show you how much I like you, Janice. I really want to show you…"
"I don't think…"
"Get close to me!" His voice was cold now, the boyish grin was long gone and his eyes looked evil. They sent a cold chill through the chaplain's daughter's blood. She shook her head. "Take me home, Mr. Creighton."
"Get your ass over here, Janice."
"I want to go home!" There was something weird about Mr. Creighton and she couldn't figure out what it was. He wanted to do something to her and why was he taking her to the beach? She was sorry she'd accepted his offer of a ride home now. They were a long way from her house and the town. Well, she wouldn't stay here and that was that.