My first obsession was my teacher Mr Miller. It was a running joke about his behaviour with the girls at school. We all knew how he enjoyed leering at us. Some of us tried to ignore it while others opening laughed about it.

For me it was something that passed over me. He was an elderly guy with maybe a year left till he had to retire. Tall and thin but with a podgy bell. His clothes like him stale and old. Corduroy trousers and woollen jumpers with elbow patches.

He had a long face that was lined with years of worry it seemed and sly beady eyes that peeked out from thick rimmed glasses. Eyes that enjoyed ogling young fresh meat. Why I suddenly noticed him after the three years I had been taught was unknown. My sexual awakening was making me see things in ways I hadn’t before.

What I had noticed was his eyes. And where they looked. He had a taste for young things like me, and I found myself returning them now. Even adding my own sly smile; a knowning one to peak his interest. Now you may ask why him of all people and it’s a good question. Maybe it was just the fact his willingness was so obvious. There were no games. His stares made it clear what he wanted and I was finding his attention most willing.

It was why I went into class that day without a bra. My breasts where hardly impressive at that time but with my tie loosened and a couple of buttons undone it offered up a tantalising glimpse so that when I put my hand up for help his attention was drawn to my cleavage rather than the problem on the page.

I felt his hands on my shoulder as her loomed over to see what I pointed at.

“You just move the decimal point Ann that’s all.” He replied.

I looked up arching my back as I pointed with my pencil. I hoped it allowed a good view.

“What here?”

I was pleased when I saw his eyes not on the page but down my top. It should have been clear my chest was bare, and it took him a few seconds before he agreed and reluctantly went back to his desk.

For the rest of the class I could feel his eyes on me. I certainly encouraged him. Flicking my hair. Leaning back in the chair and stretching allowing my chest to thrust out. My stiff nipples pressing against the white material. My attempts of seduction where pretty basic but to an old letch like him it was all that was needed.

“Ann. Collect the books for me.” He ask.

Someone was always tasked at the end of lessons to do this. I had never been asked before so I guess he must have noticed the change in me and wanted an excuse. As the class filed out for break, I slowly went around the desks. Collecting the books. I could feel his eyes on me and an occasional glance from me confirmed it. I placed the stack on his desk.

“Is that all Sir?” I leaned on the desk.

He gave me a oily smile and rested his elbows on the armrest of his chair. Steepling his fingers he pondered.

“Ann. Please sit.” He gestured with his hand for me to sit on his desk.

I walked slowly around and lifted my bum onto the desk. Allowing my pleated skirt to ride up a bit to expose a good proportion of my bare thigh. My feet slowly swinging as I looked at him waiting for him to continue. As always his eyes where more interested in my body but he managed to look up and again his dry old lips broke into a smile.

“How are you? Have you been coping with the course work?”

I gave a little shrug and nodded.

“There’s been no problems then. No problems say at home?” He added. I looked confused.

“Why do you say that sir?”

“I watch my pupils Ann. I sometimes see if there’s a change. A change in attitude. Sometimes it maybe a problem. Such as at home. Or say boyfriend trouble?” He raised a eyebrow at that last option.

I leaned back on my hands letting my chest stick out and gave a little chuckle.

“There is no boyfriend sir. Have I changed Sir? In what way?” I asked puzzled.

I could see him trying to put it into words. His eyes once again on my body as he tried to do it. I had parted my legs slightly as I leant back and waited. He gave me a nervous smile. I decided to help.

“Well. There is something Sir. I haven’t had much sleep.”

“Oh. Why is that?” He asked. Pleased that I had got him out of a hole.

“It’s a little embarrassing.” I replied.

I looked down and remained silent. Mr Miller leaned forward. Keen at the thought of something juicy.

“There’s no need to feel embarrassed Ann. Anything that’s said here will go no further.”

I looked up at him and gave a little smile. He returned it. The lines on his face creasing up. God he really was old I thought. I leaned forward. Picking at my nails. It wasn’t part of the act. I was feeling a little embarrassed now but there was that warm sensation in my crotch.

“It’s my parents ... I ... hear things at night...”

“Oh. What kind of things? Do they argue?”

“No ... I hear things. From their bedroom.” I looked up at him.

He sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers giving a ‘oh I see’ look.

“I understand. It’s perfectly normal Ann. It’s what loving couples do. Is that why you can’t sleep?”

I nodded.

He could see me bite my lip and knew there was something more. He gave a continue gesture with his hand.

“Please don’t think bad of me Sir. It’s just...” I paused.

I could see his frustration. He wanted to know. I kept him hanging before adding.

“I like listening ... it makes me feel ... sexy ... I ... Err ... you know...”