Mr. Aguilera

All characters are over 18 years of age.

Special thanks to Zenmackie.

Editor: LaRascasse.

An audio version will be made in the near future.

*****

Mr. Aguilera

Chapter 1

I was sitting in Math class like I always did on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. Mr. Aguilera was teaching us about derivatives. I was sitting in the second row closest to the board; my friend Miriam beside me with her short, orange-ish hair and skinny jeans. I was wearing a blue dress with pockets, almost down to the knee, black leggings, and white flats. Summer was starting so the heat was slowly rising.

Lectures were exhausting and long; the subject was complicated and tedious. It was hard for me to concentrate because I couldn't stop staring at him; his beautiful face, perfect eyes, nice body, and deep voice. The few silver hairs he had suited him very well.

When I first saw, him he didn't really catch my attention. It wasn't till after a few lectures that I started noticing his sensuality and manliness.

I never wanted his lectures to end; I could stare at him continuously trying to catch his glance and scream at him with my eyes how much I liked him. On more than one occasion, he caught me looking at him and seemed unable to look away, which of course was great news for him. I was almost certain that he thought about me as well. Days kept passing and I grew even more desperate. I thought about him day and night, fantasizing, desiring, and wanting him. He was very, very attractive in every way.

Eventually, on a warm October morning, I noticed something different about him. While imparting his lecture his eyes didn't leave mine, not even for a second. It seemed as if he was teaching only me. I, of course, wanted to play innocent, acting as if I didn't notice. I moved my head away and took notes of what he was saying, and then looked up only to meet his gaze. Such desperate moments. I had to control my ridiculous immature joy to not make my obsession with him obvious.

More days passed by and the gaze crossing-game continued.

Eventually, my friend Miriam and I had some homework to do but we couldn't figure out how to graph the standard deviation of a concentration graph.

"Let's go ask Aaron," I suggested.

Aaron was Mr. Aguilera's name.

"Great idea! Let's go, we really need help."

Every girl in campus liked Mr. A. He was an ideal man; relatively tall, manly, smart, and charming. He seemed to know that the girls in campus liked him. We walked to a big office building across our classroom building and got onto elevator, to the fourth floor, entered the chemistry office and walked down a long hall, surrounded by wooden walls. We read the name tags on each door searching for "Aaron Aguilera," until we found it.

"Knock," I told Miriam, and she did.

A deep voice from inside nicely responded, "Yes?" and we walked in.

Miriam entered first as I followed her.

"Hello Mr., we need help with graphing. Are you busy?" I said politely.

"No, no come on in."

There were only two chairs in his office, the one he was sitting on and another one right in front of his desk for others to sit on. Miriam and I both sat on that chair, sharing the space. She handed over her laptop to Mr. A. While he checked the graph, he asked us questions such as "Have you had a lot of lectures today?" and "Do you have more lectures later today?" and "How did you do on the test that I haven't checked?" always glancing up occasionally to look at us while we responded.

I loved looking at him, his beautiful smile which drove me crazy. He responded my glance when he had a chance.

"Mr. Aguilera, how old are you?" Miriam suddenly asked.

I looked at her worried, thinking to myself 'How rude!'

"Hahaha, well you should not ask that. But I'll let you figure it out. I finished college in 1995, and entered college in 1989 when I was 17."

I immediately made the calculations and estimated about 44 years old. I was 23 but couldn't have cared less, he was perfect in every way.

I didn't say anything. My friend didn't say anything either, she just smiled. He finished helping us and we left, smiling and waving goodbye. More days passed by and my desire kept growing and growing. I was already fantasizing about him, thinking about him while touching myself.

'I want him to notice me...' I thought to myself.

A few weeks went by and I started noticing new things about him such as when I went to class with my hair up, he wouldn't look at me as often; but when I went with my hair down he would stare at me during lecture. The same happened with clothes. He apparently really liked blue. So, I started using my hair down a lot more, dressing cute but not too provocative and wearing all shades of blue. I was desperate for his attention and in my head, my attempts were working.

Whenever he saw me he smiled and greeted me with enthusiasm. What was curious to me was that he never mentioned my name. He referred to me as "you" only. I thought that maybe he didn't remember my name, understandable considering he sees many students in one day. That made me a little sad. I also thought that maybe avoiding my name decreased the chance of a more formal and close relationship, giving him the illusion that things wouldn't go further on. Was he trying to avoid a naughty desire of his?

About a month went by and I was done. I had to do something about how hot I was for him, I couldn't take it any longer. I was almost positive that he had interest in me so I made up my mind. I was going to look for a way to spend more time with him and make my interest in him obvious.

He worked on a specific project in a laboratory at my university and I also knew that it was common for students to approach teachers and ask them for permission to work on a sort of internship with them. This would help students learn more, advance quicker in their studies, and of course, spend more time with that specific teacher. Yes... that's exactly what I wanted to do.

I wrote him an email, proof-reading it several times to make sure it was perfect and polite. In the e-mail, I stated my interest in having an internship with him because I liked what he was working on in the lab, and if it would be okay for me to meet up with him and discuss the matter personally. I clicked send on a Tuesday night.

On Wednesday night, I didn't have an answer yet, but I hadn't seen him on campus either so I assumed he maybe had fallen ill or something else. On Thursday morning, there was no answer yet but I had a lecture with him.

'Well, maybe he wants to discuss it face to face after the lecture,' I thought.

I sat there waiting anxiously for the end of class, fidgeting my fingers as he spoke. He never looked at me. I felt invisible.

When the lecture ended, he didn't say anything. I got a little sad and angry.

'Is he avoiding me? Did I actually send the e-mail?' I thought.

Friday came and still no answer. That was it for me. I had to have an answer, not only because I was interested in him, but also because I hated not receiving a response, in my mind it was a rude thing to do.

So, at 11:30am on Friday I hasted to his office, went into the big building, got on the elevator pressing the number four, entered the office section, and walked down the long hall searching for his name. I first looked to see if the door was unlocked (that usually meant that the teacher was in there), and it was. I knocked.

About ten seconds went by and he said, "Come on in."

I opened the door, "Excuse me Mr. are you busy?"

He was crouched down organizing some papers in a drawer. When he got up and noticed it was me, the student who is constantly looking at him with lustful eyes, he immediately got up and said, "Oh, hello. How are you?"

"Good, thanks, and you?"

"I'm fine, thank you," he responded smiling and looking at me.

"I came to ask about the e-mail I sent you a couple of days ago; you never replied."

"Oh, yes I read it, it's right here," he said as he started to search his computer nervously, but couldn't find it.

"Well it is here somewhere."

I grinned, "I just wanted to know whether if it is possible or not."

He stared at me blankly and asked, "What what is possible?"

I laughed a little, "Haha, the internship Mr."

"Oh yes! I'm sorry, yes, yes, let's talk about that."

He then sat on his chair while pointing at the other chair.

"So, you are interested in an internship with me?"

"Yes, exactly."

He then proceeded to explain about his laboratory work, what it's about, how he does it, why he does it, etc. Honestly, I wasn't paying much attention to his words. I was completely hypnotized by his smile, his voice and charm.

"Are you okay?" he suddenly asked and I snapped out of it.

"Y-yes Mr. I'm sorry."

"May I ask why are you always looking at me like that?"

I blushed a little but kept a serious expression, a little shocked by the sudden question. "I'm not sure what you mean Mr. Aguilera."

"I've seen you looking at me a little too much since we started the semester."

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable Mr., it wasn't intentional." I paused. "But I've noticed that you look at me a little too much as well."

He seemed anxious and stayed silent for a minute or so. "Well, it is only human nature to look up when you sense that someone is looking at you."

I didn't reply and he proceeded, "Is there anything else you need from me?"

"I-I..."

My strong personality began to fall apart. I couldn't think clearly while he was looking at me waiting for an answer. I wasn't in the dominant position anymore or at least that's how I felt. It was difficult for me to accept that.

I finally said, "I'm actually not sure."

"Sure, about what?"

"I-I'm not sure about what you are thinking or about what I should say."

I took a deep breath and relaxed my tense body, trying to calm down.

Smiling and looking at me he answered, "To make you feel better, I'll tell you what I'm thinking about."

I looked at him with a grin on my face, waiting impatiently for his answer.

"I'm thinking about you."

I looked at him puzzled, "What do you mean 'about me'?"

He looked at me with a kinky smile and replied, "About fucking you. That's all I think of when I look at you."

Chapter 2

I didn't make any gestures other than fidgeting my fingers; I was nervous. We looked at each other for what seemed a long time though it probably was only about 2-3 minutes. I felt my cheeks getting warm as he maintained a cold expression.

My teeth were clenched together very tight, my eyes started to slightly water because I was honestly, a little bit scared. My heart started pounding and my palms were slightly sweating.

As seconds went by I was getting wet thinking about his words and about their meaning.

I had my legs crossed, one top of the other, pressing them tightly together. I stared at him thinking what to say and at the same time waiting for him to say something. The way he looked at me... I can´t describe how lustful I felt.

Tired of waiting I asked angrily, "What do you mean by that?"

Mr. Aguilera then smiled while standing up and walking around his desk. He walked towards me to grab the chair's back support and pulled it to the middle of the office. He then quickly placed his hands on the arm rests and bent down to meet my face.

Then, with a low, deep, and very serious voice he said, "I´m thinking about putting my cock in your pussy and fucking you repeatedly."

My breathing started to get faster and deeper as my eyes got lost in his gaze and became soft.

"What´s wrong? You seem nervous. Are you not that fierce anymore?"

I felt mocked and insulted. How could he speak to me like that?

I didn't say anything and stood up with the intention of leaving, but as soon I got up, Mr. Aguilera placed his hands on my shoulders and pushed me back down on the chair.

"What are you doing!?" I asked harshly.

He placed two of his fingers on my neck, "Your pulse is rushing... Mine is also going fast, want to check?"

He took one of my hands, stretched it out a little and proceeded to place it in between his legs.

"Don't! I don't want to touch your...!"

I tried to pull away but he firmly held it in place, grabbing my wrist a little too hard to the point of causing me a slight pain. His cock was pulsating and throbbing.

"See? This is what you do to me. Every time I see you in that cute little blue dress of yours with your white little shoes... Your beautiful, long, wavy brown hair, your perfect eyes. That sensual voice of yours and your gaze, it´s like you are constantly inviting me to fuck you."

I was nervous, happy, and angry all at the same time. The only words that I managed to say at that moment were, "I-I have a boyfriend."

"But you´re not married, right?" He paused and continued with a smile across his face, "I couldn't care less about your boyfriend."

I frowned at him.

"Maybe he is not fucking you the way you need to be fucked."

It was true... and his dirty words expressed exactly how I felt on the inside. I wasn't used to them so whenever he spoke dirty to me I felt uncomfortable, but I loved it.

"You think I´m more experienced and that I will give you the pleasure and satisfaction that he can't give you. Isn't that right?"

I stood up and pushed him aside while heading to the door. Before I could grab the doorknob, Mr. A. grasped my hair and pulled me back.

"I´ll see you in Monday's lecture. Be sure to wear your hair down and a dress with no leggings on."

He then let me go and without looking back I opened the door and shut it behind me. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes:

'I want him, I want his cock inside me, I want him to fondle me, I want him to fuck me and abuse my body.' I then gave myself a few small slaps on the face and went about my day, trying not to think of him... or his words.

It was already Saturday evening and I received an e-mail from my professor. It read, "You left a stain of wetness on my chair, I'll have to punish you for that."

I freaked out and didn't know what to expect from that 'punishment'. It seemed very arousing though. I was meeting a new side of Mr. A. and a new side of me as well. I was excited.

On Monday morning I was heading to class, specifically Biology. After that lecture, I had my Math class. While taking notes in class, I debated Mr. A's intentions. 'Should I go to his class?' I thought. 'I´m afraid that my classmates will notice something.' 'Is he going to be subtle about it?' 'What if he asks me a question and I can´t answer properly?'

I decided to confront the situation by being confident and mature. I gathered my courage and went right into his lecture hall, sitting this time in the front row, just to show him that his words didn't scare me. Miriam sat beside me. She had dyed her hair blue this time and looked very pretty.

Mr. Aguilera had not arrived yet, so we were all talking, laughing, and having a good time together. About 10 minutes later he entered the room.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning mister." Everyone answered. Except me of course.

He noticed this. He approached me, placed his hands on my desk, bent down a bit and spoke up, "I said, good morning" with a mean look on his face.

"Good morning Mr." I said staring at him defiantly.

Whenever I looked up at him, I thought about his words, making me feel hot and aroused. He noticed this. I was wearing an orange dress and my hair down, a sweet scent and black doll-like shoes. Mr. A. winked at me once.

Even though I had a strong personality, being submissive was how I truly wanted to be. Mr. A. made me feel powerless and I loved it.

The lecture was over and everyone was packing their bags and heading out the door, including me.

Miriam asked me what we should have for lunch, and before I could reply, Mr. A. asked, "Can you stay for a few minutes?"

"I´m sorry Mr. I told Miriam I was going to have lunch with her."

He stared at both of us somewhat angrily.

Miriam said, "Don´t worry Rachel. Maybe he needs to talk to you about your grades. It must be important. I´ll have lunch with the others. See you later."

She kissed me goodbye on the cheek and left before I could even reply once again.

Mr. A. walked to the door and locked it.

"Sit," he demanded.

I headed to a desk and sat down when he said, "No, sit on the floor against the wall."

"I don't want to."

He got close to me and held up my chin with one hand, "I said, sit on the floor. Now."

I obeyed and knelt because of my dress, sitting on my ankles. He smiled and walked towards me. I could see his erection through his jeans. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his... "member".

"What are you doing!?" I protested angry as I pressed my back against the wall while he got closer and closer.

"Go on, naughty girl. Suck my cock."

I looked up furious and without hesitation said, "NO."

He kindly smiled and to my surprise replied, "Alright."

I was confused. He then placed his hand on my forehead and with a little pressure he pushed my head back until it touched the wall completely. I tried moving but he was holding me in place. He kept his kind smile while he started to get closer, and closer to me with this erect cock. I closed my eyes tightly and kept them closed.

But nothing happened; I could only feel his firm hand on my forehead. I opened my eyes and he was squatting down in front of me, looking at me gently.

"I won´t make you do it, but I will insist until you tell me to stop." He knew I would never want him to stop.

He had his pants fixed already and while still squatting he moved his hand from my forehead and placed it beside my head on the wall. Then with his other hand he began spreading apart my legs, touching my inner thigh, getting closer and closer to my crotch. I crumpled his shirt tightly with my fingers, trying to push him away but failing.

I gasped and moaned quietly, "Ah, ah, p-please don´t."

He started touching my pussy over my underwear, moving his middle finger up and down my panties, concentrating on my clit at times.

I clenched my hands to his shirt when approaching orgasm, and when he noticed I was about to come, he stopped. Mr. Aguilera stood up and just stared at me. I looked at him with a lustful expression, wondering why he had stopped.

He then said, "I know you want me to make you come, but if you truly want me to do so you'll have to beg."

I then got up, picked up my things and walked out mad.

"Jeez..." I thought while walking. "Beg, I will never beg for anything."

I was very wrong.

Chapter 3

When I got home it was already dark outside. It was a cool night so I decided to take a bath. I opened the tap and the bath began to fill up. I played some music, Depeche Mode - Jazz Thieves. When the tub was full, I closed the tap and added a few cinnamon sticks, sea salt, and lavender oil to the water.

I lived alone in my own apartment close to university. My parents lived far away, and my two

older sisters were happily married. So, it was just me and my crazy cat, Peanut. My boyfriend lived in the capital; his job required him to live there. He sometimes came to visit me, but not as often as we would've liked.

I also worked at college teaching English. They paid me enough to pay bills and buy food. My parents helped me out with rent. I loved teaching, it was a sort of hobby and helped as a distraction from my overwhelming studies.

I configured the song to repeat itself in the CD player (yes, I liked it that much), lit a few candles in the bathroom, and proceeded to turn off all the apartment lights and closed every curtain as well.

It was around 10:00pm already. Peanut was laying on my bed, sleeping, and gently purring. I took off my shoes, lifted my dress over my head and placed it in the laundry basket. I then began to unhook my bra which was cream colored with big pink polka dots on it. My panties were black. I never really matched my underwear; I could count on one hand the number of times that somebody else has seen it. Plus, buying a bra with its corresponding panties is a lot more expensive than buying them separately. I wondered if Mr. Aguilera liked women who wore matching panties and bra.