Between books and glasses 02 - Louise's many faces

When I was left with the 7:00 p.m. time on a Friday to teach in the business class, it seemed like a waste of time. I was a student, and I knew that I would have students who were completely demotivated by fatigue, with a few others who were too motivated to go to a party. No one would be caring about my content, no matter how much energy I put into motivating the students. In practice, this almost became true, because a part of the class seemed strangely interested. Perhaps it was the deep voice, which always counted in my favor, or my ability to dress well, which did not matter to most of the students or the other teachers. The gray hair gave me a charm of maturity without old age and that also counted. Of course, being the teacher, an authority figure, also influenced the fact that certain students detached themselves from the rest of the class, showing an unusual interest. I could be judging their interest in the classroom, but the secondary intentions were wearing skirts and short skirts even in the winter. The interest in the classroom was limited to questions without much purpose about the classes, and when the opportunity arose, there were questions that were somewhat personal, especially if approached individually. It was their favorite time, because it was when the cantadas came. Some were fun, some had neologisms like "oatmeal" and "crane" that reminded me that I was not so young anymore. Some were already so embarrassing that they embarrassed me. I confess, at the beginning of the teaching I let myself be carried away for a few times. Their youth and fire are irresistible, but over time it sounded repetitive. With everything so delivered from the tray, there was not that challenge to take something else and they become just one more. Needless to say that I become the same for them. In the end, there is no point in risking breaking the professional ethic. Therefore, I kept a reasonable distance, even because I do not deny the good that these young women do to my ego. It was an easy way to carry things, until Luisa showed up. She ran away from all the standards of that class. She did not dress provocatively and did not show any forced interest in the lessons. At the same time, she always asked many interesting questions. I, as a teacher, was impressed by her ability to always make pertinent observations. Her intelligence attracted me, but not only that. It may seem strange, but she carried in her clothes a very special charm. She liked silver rings and light enamel on her delicate hands. She had black, smooth hair, framed to her beautiful face. She dressed eclectically, but somehow the raft and long skirt of that night seemed to emphasize her charm. It was ironic that in the midst of so many students playing for the teacher's attention, I was precisely the student least interested in my person, the one gifted with entering into my fantasies. Discretion urges me to look more deeply at her. She was vibrant when my compliments conquered simple smiles and frustrated me when I needed to be absent. Unlike the others, with Luisa I wanted to shorten the distance, but she often seemed beyond the horizon. Except that night. The end of the class was like all the others. A cloud of students built around me with questions from those who seemed not to have heard anything that was said in class. I pretend to pay attention, but my focus is directed to Luisa and her difficulty in packing her things in the backpack. The friend, impatient, goes ahead promising to reserve a seat. It was probably in the bar, "that bar". Without much attention, the other students say goodbye. I sit on my desk, watching Luisa distracted. Without the rest of the class, the emptiness of the college entered the room with its mixture of echoes and deafening silences. It seemed the perfect setting to forget the ethics for a few minutes, except for the fact that I continue to be forgotten. "Are you still there?" she asked, startled when she finally noticed me. <unk> Of course, I must close the room! <unk> I lie, as if I am accumulating functions of teacher and caretaker. "I'm sorry, I'm leaving". she said as she took her things out of her backpack and organized them once more. She was in a hurry and agony was stamped on her face. She seemed worried that I would wait. I'm not in a hurry. Despite trying to calm her down, she gets up and steps in, but collapses before she even crosses the door. You didn't have to be in such a hurry. Angelica is waiting for me. Here's the first side of Luisa that I didn't know. She looked nervous. Very different from the confident woman asking pertinent questions in class, now she looked like a frightened girl. For a moment, I forget any fantasy, because a student afraid of her teacher, when alone with him, is the worst scenario. I think I sprained my foot. She takes off her sandal and her concern seems not to be on me, and that relieves me. <unk> Move your foot and see which movement is hurting. She turns her foot, but twists her lips before taking a full turn. It was amazing how she remained charming even in painful moments. I offered to look and she let me touch her delicate foot. I turned it the same way, this time very slowly until I found the point of pain. I was presented with a lip bite that left me confused whether that was really pain. I decided to lift her up, because if she sat on the table, I could better examine the torsion. I put her on my shoulder and we walked slowly until we reached the plank where the floor was higher. Nothing that a careful step was not enough, but as she squeezed my shoulder encouraged me to a more risky approach. Her embracing my neck as I held her in my lap was proof once again that my instincts were right. I saw another side of Luisa: the fragile one. That woman was clinging to me, not bothering with my boldness in carrying her in my arms as if seeking protection. I, of course, would not fail to protect her. I put her on the table and pulled my chair to stand in front of her. I offered her a massage looking into her eyes and saw a simple smile sprouting on her face. I walked her foot with my thumbs making circular movements near where I understood to be the focus of the pain. When I met my wife, she squeezed the skirt with her hands, moaning in pain. I apologized and went back to making the movements lightly. I didn't care about the light massage, as long as Luisa was walking around the bar and I didn't notice when she was squeezing her foot too much. Here I could say that I found her enigmatic face, or maybe it's just the soft side. Was Luisa so disingenuous as to create a character to attract me? The possibility of being just a student trusting her teacher enough made me avoid looking at that red piece again. So I do the massage by looking into her eyes and I see confused expressions. Not just pain, but fear and sometimes a mischievous smile. I realized then that Luisa wasn't disingenuous, but maybe she wanted to be. I just want to remind you that I'm not a professional, so it may take a while for the pain to subside. It's hurting less, thank you. Your friend must be waiting. That's not a problem. She's got a crush on the bar owner, she must be loving being alone with her. Apparently, it was really that bar, but it wasn't the time for memories, and I have a young woman with her legs spread wide open in front of me, and she's not worried. Were you going to "secure candles" for Angelica? <unk> She says I encourage her, but it doesn't help much. In fact, Angelica didn't seem like the type... Then let's give Angelica a chance and stay here a while longer. I continue with a gentle massage. Eyes on her delicate feet and then on her eyes. I deliberately looked at her panties. In a contradictory gesture, Luisa looked to the side, but went a little further up the skirt as she opened her legs. It seems to have another Luisa wanting to come out. So I lift, but keeping two fingers in contact with his leg. See if your foot still hurts when you move. She turns her foot slowly and moans. I wonder if it's the pain or mine not running down her thigh. I look at her, who then turns to me, and I can see a bit of a Louise that has not yet appeared. I kiss her. There's a Louise I haven't seen yet, and I'm looking for her with my tongue, scouring every corner of her mouth. Standing between her legs, I'm holding on to her ass, squeezing those fleshes tightly. Her arms are wrapped around me, her legs too. As she breaks free of her shyness, I'm holding her in my arms. I'm squeezing her against me and I get the first moans in return. They're different, they're tricky, they're loaded with pleasure. But I want to get more out of her than just moans. It was not difficult to take off her panties, for Luisa suspended her hips promptly. I sat back in the chair that gave me the perfect height. I rubbed my beard on her thighs on purpose and gained new moans. I felt the moisture on the tip of my tongue as I separated my lips with it. My hands immediately held my hair, indicating that I was on the right track. I squeezed my thighs tightly and sucked that little mouthful with pleasure. I began to know the real Luisa, without her restraints or constraints. I abandoned all shyness as she writhed in my mouth, no matter if the door of the room was open. I could hear the gasping breath between the moans and when I kissed the scream, the moans became cries. Luisa mocked me in my mouth, trembling on the table while I held her in my hands. I rose to kiss her and soon had her hands opening my trousers. A new Luisa was appearing. Push all the way, Beton! It was the perfect sentence, spoken in a sly tone that made me even harder to hear, and I got another whimper from her as I walked in and hugged her, and I got Luisa hugging her, her mouth close to my ear, listening to her delicious whimper as she fucked my student, and she hugged me. Keep going, Beton, keep going! My nickname sounds so sexy in her voice that my body reacts on its own. The intensity of the movements increases and I grab her by the hair and the butt. I punch harder, measuring by the groans how close she is to the apex, but I don't let her get there. I want even more of Luisa. I sat in my chair and watched her take off her skirt and float. She gave up her clothing shyness, displaying her deliciously delicate body to me. Meanwhile, without much delicacy, she mounted on my lap, inserting my cane into her. I watched Luisa swallow my roll in a provocative slowness. With her arms resting on my shoulders, she swayed her hips in a slow roll. She looked into my eyes with a sly smile. That was the Luisa I wanted to see. The eager one, who has a fire inside her and needs to burn it at all costs and, above all, who is aware of her power. With the roar she controlled how the soft lips of the bottle caressed my dick. She started moaning, of course. She took off my shirt and kissed me, squeezing her breasts against my body. A different roar begins, now slower and stronger. I could feel her lips caressing my dick deliciously while the grill was rubbed on my abdomen. Luisa devoured me and when I least expected it, an even more unfamiliar face appeared. She stood up and sat on my lap again, but this time on her back. She looked back with a wistful smile as she rolled on my dick. Sometimes she suspended her hip to roll only on her head. In front of me was Luisa, a provocative, exhibitionist. I held myself to contort myself to the least with those malicious rolls. She had her hand on the knuckle, touching herself as she plucked out my groans with her body movements. Luisa rolled, sat and quietened. She did everything and as much as I admired her body and the movements she made. I delighted in that lecherous pupil rubbing the knuckle as delightfully as possible on my dick. When I pulled her hair, she followed and rolled on without leaving my dick. If Luisa's amiable movements on the knuckle and clenched her fingers accelerated as if echoing against me, and when I tried to reach the knuckle, she embraced me as fast as she could. When I tried to reach the knuckle, she screamed and hugged me. Slowly, our hearts returned to their normal rhythm, and Luisa was once again my usual student, although she made no effort to leave my lap. The exchange of caresses continued, and I decided, therefore, to bring up a matter of modesty. So, do you think Angelica will get anything with the owner of that bar? I don't know. Luisa turned her face as she answered and then kissed me. I asked the most innocent question in the world and seemed to have disturbed her in some way. I didn't apologize, but I didn't insist on it either. So as not to get in a bad mood, I kissed her again. I grabbed her hair and squeezed her ass as her tongue entered her mouth. I felt her melt into my kiss and continued until she forgot the indiscreet question. I, on the other hand, wondered why she bothered so much to listen to the owner of that bar.