Smut, Spice and everything nice

I can't stop thinking about you

Ethan

The school hallways were empty as I walked to Ms. Harper's office. It was after school hours, and most of the students had already left. I had stayed back to finish an assignment and needed help with my literature essay. Ms. Harper, my English teacher, was known for being approachable and willing to help her students. At 26, she was just a few years older than me, but she carried herself with a maturity that made her seem more experienced and authoritative.

I knocked on her office door, my heart pounding slightly. "Come in," her familiar voice called out.

I opened the door and stepped inside. Ms. Harper was sitting at her desk, grading papers. She looked up and smiled when she saw me.

"Ethan, what can I do for you?"

"I was hoping you could help me with my essay," I said, feeling a bit nervous. "I'm having trouble with the analysis part."

"Of course, have a seat," she replied, gesturing to the chair opposite her desk.

I sat down and handed her my notebook. As she began to read, I couldn't help but notice how attractive she was. Her dark hair framed her face perfectly, and her blouse accentuated her curves in all the right places. The way she bit her lip in concentration only added to her allure.

"You've got some good points here, Ethan," she said after a few minutes. "But you need to go deeper. What is the author really trying to convey? Think about the themes and the subtext."

Her feedback was invaluable, and I tried to absorb everything she said. As she continued to explain, she leaned forward, and her blouse revealed a hint of cleavage. I tried to focus on her words, but my mind kept drifting to the thought of what it would be like to be with her.

"I understand," I said, trying to refocus. "I'll work on it tonight."

"Good," she said, smiling warmly. "I know you have the potential to really excel in this subject."

"Thank you, Ms. Harper," I replied, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nervousness.

As I stood to leave, I noticed a small book on her desk. "Is that 'The Great Gatsby'?" I asked, pointing to it.

"It is," she said, picking it up. "It's one of my favorites. Have you finished it yet?"

"Not yet," I admitted. "But I'm getting there."

"You should," she said, her eyes twinkling with enthusiasm. "It's a beautiful, tragic story. There's so much to learn from it."

"I will," I promised, feeling a renewed determination.

"Good," she said softly. "And if you ever need help, you know where to find me."

Our eyes met again, and for a brief moment, it felt like there was something unspoken between us. Something more than just teacher and student. I quickly pushed the thought aside, reminding myself of the boundaries that existed.

As I turned to leave, I hesitated. "Ms. Harper," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I... I think about you sometimes."

She looked up, her eyes locking onto mine. "Ethan, we can't," she said softly, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

"I know," I replied, stepping closer. "But I can't help it. You're... you're incredible."

She stood up, closing the distance between us. "This is wrong," she murmured, but her body betrayed her words as she leaned into me.

Before I knew it, our lips were touching. The kiss was tentative at first, but quickly grew more passionate. Her hands found their way to my hair, pulling me closer. I wrapped my arms around her, feeling the heat of her body against mine.