School Secretary Tastes Power

"Why yes", he said confidently, "I help everyone out all the time with these." She reluctantly handed her phone over to him and explained what she wanted. He stood in front of her, his fingers a blur as he swiped, touched and typed. She looked at his crotch and wondered about how often he got an erection. Young men had so much energy. He lowered the phone and looked her in the eyes and offered, "Think the problem is you need a system upgrade before you can use this app. That's why it's failing."

"I don't understand, how do I do that?"

He explained, "You'll have to plug this into your computer and sync it that way because it's too big to download." She had no idea what he was talking about.

"Can I use your computer?" he asked.

Debbie nodded and wheeled herself out of the way. Clayton pulled up his low chair to the computer and sat down, typing and hitting buttons and clicking away. It was amazing how he understood all this stuff. Phones used to be a lot more simpler back in the day. You pick it up, dial a number, and it's done. She marvelled at how complex all life became. Modern phones made people so impersonal. They were lost in them, avoiding things right in front of their eyes. And she was in front of his.

He was taking too long to fix this. She supposed that was normal because it was all complicated to her. Curious, she wheeled closer behind him, and asked him to explain what was going on. He explained but never turned around to see if she was following. He never gave her an opportunity to understand or convey ignorance with her eyes. That was upsetting. It's only polite to look people in the eyes when you talk to them.

She had a terrible thought. Maybe she could will him to turn around. Over the next few minutes she wheeled herself closer and closer to him. Finally, she was almost touching him and he was still lost in the screen. Daring herself to go an extra step, she pressed her bosom against his back.

Oh, that got a response.

He just froze and stopped typing. Her breasts were larger than most, and somewhere between firm and soft. You couldn't miss being touched by them, not even if you were having a seizure. He inhaled slowly and closed his eyes for a few seconds. He was clearly becoming aroused.

Debbie didn't remove her breasts from his back. He continued typing and then finally turned around to explain something. Oh, they both knew what happened, at least on a primal level. She looked him right in the eyes, her breasts poking into his back and smiled and nodded slowly, "uh huh, yeah that makes sense" as he chirped. He didn't shy away. She was in charge. She forced him to turn around and stop ignoring her, and he went along pretending like nothing happened.

Her bosom was warm and soft and he leaned back into her. That got her nipples hard. She was pushing him into a proverbial corner, but he wasn't running away. She decided to change topics, "You know, if you just fixed your hair more often and dressed up some, you could date any girl you wanted at school." He blushed and explained that he was shy and wasn't all that good looking.

She flirted, "Oh, I don't know, I think you're very handsome."

He blushed some more and Debbie continued, "I bet my daughter would date you in a heartbeat if you asked her out." He again rejected the notion, laughing it up nervously. Debbie was getting wet, feeling her power over him manifest itself physically. His body betrayed him and she knew it. She won.

She got up slowly and sat on the desk next to her monitor, raising one leg so it just barely hung off the ground. If he slouched just an inch more he could see tops of her thigh highs. Because she was partially exposed, he never looked at her and kept working on her phone. Showing some leg resulted in his complete avoidance.

Debbie was enjoying toying with him. It was like mind control. If she willed something, it could happen. She spread her legs just a few inches and imagined him eating her pussy. "You'll eat my cunt, you little peeping pervert" she thought to herself and made a slightly twisted face imagining him doing it. Mid-sentence, he glanced at her, paused at her porny expression and repeated himself, "it's finished."

"Oh, right, thanks", her mind returned to her office and she took her phone back. "Guess I owe you a dinner", she winked at him.

Clayton blushed again and looked down at her feet, explaining that he had to be home every afternoon and wasn't allowed out after dark. He was embarrassed by his curfew. That dose of reality brought her back from her fantasies and just then, the office door opened. It was the creepy principal walking-in unannounced again. Her hair stood up in fear. Was her body language that obviously inappropriate? Did he see anything?

"Oh hey there Debbie. Was just gonna see you about that email you sent."

Just like that, her horniness was suppressed and gone. "Right, sure." She turned to Clayton, "Thanks again, I really do owe you for helping me out." Clayton nodded and walked away just as the bell rang. She wished him a good afternoon and slowly slid off the desk, trying to look inconspicuous. The fat man spoke again, babbling about nothing.

Moment of danger had passed. While he talked, she remembered a story about him. Apparently he walked into a random biology class and went on a 15-minute rant about how some bad stories were going around that he was drunk at work, but that was all wrong. See, he wasn't drunk, but he had a "Red Eye Disease" and that's what the hubbub was about.

Later, she couldn't remember what he talked about. She didn't care. Instead, she sat back on the table and spread her legs a little and watched him choke mid-sentence. Top of her thigh highs must have been sticking out from his viewpoint. "Go on Mr. Combs", she nudged him. He got flustered and started smiling and then resumed his diatribe.

"You son of a bitch, you're getting off on this", she thought to herself. She put all her will power into exuding sex with her posture. His eyes wandered to her curves as he babbled. She started thinking again about Clayton eating her pussy, and made a face like he actually was.

Slowly, her legs spread more to make sure Mr. Combs could see her red panties.

Mr. Combs almost tripped over at seeing them. Her facial expression turned him on and he wasn't expecting it. Especially not after that first month she worked here, when she called their affair off. Debbie laughed inside and imagined straddling Clayton's face and fucking his tongue. Maybe while he was tied up. Maybe she'd whisper to him that he couldn't tell anyone. Mr. Combs looked like someone held a gun to his head: he was all excited and completely unprepared for what effect her body language had over him.

Debbie wasn't sure she heard right. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

He repeated himself, adding, "Uh, yeah, I mean maybe it won't take that long for us to approve your credentials."

Fucking Hell. Had she known all she had to do was show him her coochie one last time to become a teacher, she would have done it a long time ago. He was disappointingly weak, a man with no resolve and no backbone. She wanted what he was offering so badly, but she couldn't let him have the satisfaction of knowing it. It only made sense to play it off, so she did. "Oh, that thing? I forgot about that. Maybe we can talk about that some other time. For now, you'll have to excuse me." She got up and gently pushed him out of the office.

Sitting back, she marvelled, "What the fuck was that all about?" Was she making him out to be a bigger obstacle than he really was? It was time to go home so she walked to her beat-up Chrysler.

That night she was restless. What was she doing anyway? This boy was the same age as her daughter and it was horribly inappropriate to think about doing anything with him, let alone press her tits into his back. What had possessed her to do it? She could lose everything. Her daughter, her job, her trailer, her freedom. Even becoming a teacher. That's what she should be focusing on.

Getting promoted was a huge challenge and it was downright disappointing to discover that Mr. Combs had been a paper tiger all along. She spat at the recurring memory of letting him fuck her. He was disgusting. What had possessed her to do that years ago? Ignoring a pattern of making questionable decisions, she thought about how easily she manipulated him. She made him fold like a cheap suit with literally no effort.

No, he wasn't a challenge anymore, she decided, given how quickly he changed his tune at seeing her thighs. Clayton, on the other hand, was a forbidden fruit. Not a challenge, but a barrier she could never cross. Still, she could toy with the idea of getting near it. After all, it was just teasing, and that was all right.

The next day, she pulled Clayton aside and gave him a present. "What's this Miss. Debbie?" he wondered.

She smiled and told him to open it. "You've been working really hard and I thought you deserved it."

It was a new jacket, advertising some mountain climbing thing all the kids raged about these days. He smiled so hard, his face almost looked like an over-inflated beach ball. "Oh gosh, oh wow, this is great. Thank you so much!" He put it on and it was just the right fit.

She said "you're most welcome Clay", and hugged him.

She pressed her bosom into him and felt his hard body press against their softness. He arched his back away from her politely, but she deliberately pressed herself against him. He was turned on by her, she was sure of it. She could feel his erection form against her crotch. One alligator, two alligator, three alligator. They were still hugging and neither one of them was pulling away. They both breathed unnaturally and neither one wanted to say anything. He was clearly getting turned on more, and had no desire to pull back. After five seconds, with her heart beating fast she thought that was pushing it too far so she pulled away. She walked off, leaving him feeling confused. She knew it would.

At home that night, she felt so full of energy. No matter what she did, she could not expend it. All her chores finished, she retreated to her bedroom and started sipping a snifter of Grand Marnier. She looked through her closet and wondered what she should wear tomorrow. What caught her eye was her shoes on the floor. It was a simple pair of cork wedges with laces that tied around her leg. That was it! She rushed over to her kitchen and looked through drawers until she found it. She brought it back to her bedroom, threw it on the bed and closed the door, taking another sip of her cognac.

On the bed was a coil of rope.

As she was looking at it, she was getting wet. And how. What she was thinking about is bringing that boy over to her trailer and tying him up. And then sitting on his face, making him lick her pussy. She wanted him to beg for it. Her left hand wandered into her panties and started exploring. She was imagining an entire dialogue. She knew her imaginary exchange sounded unrealistic and artificial, but it was getting her off. It was just a dirty fantasy, but even getting it to approach tenth of reality would have been thrilling. She came hard thinking about it happening that night. After she calmed down it was all just an innocent, albeit nasty, fantasy.

Next week, she took another step toward disaster and she wasn't sure if it happened willingly. Without thinking so much about it, she had all her student aides bring a signed release form allowing them to leave school grounds for special errands. That was mostly standard stuff, but she'd never actually needed this sort of thing before.

She kept all the student aides busy over the week, and thought about taking Clay out for a few hours to help her collect documents and equipment. Of course, boxes of them would be conveniently located at her trailer where she could take her time and maybe tease him. This was all just a fantasy, nothing more, but he'd be great eye candy to have around at her place.

She thought maybe she'd leave her lingerie laying around. Maybe she'd bend over in front of him to pick something up, and give him a nice view. Maybe he'd notice rope on the bed and ask what it was for. That could be a good transition into a "why, have you ever been tied up?" She knew her fantasies were ridiculous. That's not how people talked, or how things happened. But even getting him to see her lingerie would cause a small portion of her dirty fantasies to become real, and that would be just enough of a power kick to where she couldn't tell the difference between controlling a man with her body, and actual sex.

Next Wednesday, feeling nervous and horny, she sent all the aides on errands except for him. She was dressed just like in her fantasies. "Clay, would you mind helping me go pick up a bunch of records? It's off-campus", she added. He replied shyly, "Sure thing Miss. Debbie, be happy to." They both walked to the parking lot into her car, and buckled in. She felt like her pussy was already being eaten from the excitement. No way that would actually happen- she wouldn't take this very far, but the thought of him being within reach in her own private den was erotic. She planned to later masturbate to the memory.

Just as she started driving off, she heard a yell. "Miss. Debbie, wait up!" It was Qiana. Debbie cursed inwardly, hit the brakes and rolled her window down. Qiana was being way too cheerful again. "Coach Weston's out sick so I can come help!" Debbie sighed and projected a fake grin at Qiana and beckoned, "Come on in."

Since there were actual documents to pick up, Debbie drove slowly so she could figure out what to do with all the naughty props she left laying around. She was biting her lip when Qiana's cell phone rang. She answered it with a loud "Halo" and started talking to her cousin. Thank the lord, this was just the thing Debbie needed. With Qiana distracted, she could give Clayton an abridged tour of her place and save face. She pulled up to her trailer, and motioned for Qiana to stay and finish her conversation. They left her behind in the car.

She led Clayton to her front door, fumbled with the lock and went inside. He followed after her and looked around. Politely he said, "Nice place, Miss. Debbie." She thought to herself, "It's a trailerpark, boy" but instead replied with a measured, "Oh, thanks. Sorry about the mess." Swinging her hips, she walked to her closed bedroom door, turned around and called Clayton with her finger, "This way." He took the cue and walked up to her. She waited until he caught up, then opened the door and went inside.

First thing he saw was her bed. For a crummy trailer home, it was a really nice bed. It was a centerpiece of the bedroom. Nice big bedposts, black and pink sheets. And in middle of the bed was a coil of rope, a pair of thigh highs, pile of other lingerie and a box. Debbie flirted with Clay, "sorry about the mess again, let me clean this up real quick." She walked up to her bed, got on her knees and bent over giving him a nice good look at her outfit. She pretended to pick up all the things and put them away in the box nice and slow.

Clayton saw Deborah walk up on the bed and bend over in her light-blue and white checkered skirt. While she was fiddling with things, her hips and ass swayed. It got him excited. She bent over more to reach the far side of the bed so that her skirt rode up high, and he could see that she was wearing white thigh highs. He ducked down to see better, and could see her white lacy panties. Oh god, he could see her pussy lips through her panties, just like in the pornos. Where they pressed against the panties, the material was almost see-through. He wanted to touch her there.

Debbie took her time. She wanted him to see it all.

Just then, they both heard the front door. It must have been Qiana.

Both of them turned around in alarm and slowly moved away from each other, trying to look inconspicuous. They were now both aware of each other's shared fear of discovery. It was something now in common, something they shouldn't share with anyone, their secret. Debbie thought that Clay was remarkably mature in this regard as he wasn't willing to put her at risk.

Qiana came in and was just way too helpful for her own good. Three of them packed up boxes of documents and drove back to the school.

That night, Debbie thought she was crazy for being so irresponsible and reckless. Qiana's tagging along was a dose of reality she didn't want. As exciting as this fantasy was, she had to put an end to it before it escalated, so she resolved to avoid Clay for rest of the semester. She had him reassigned to another department.

Next week at work, she was standing over her desk late in the evening, lost in paperwork when she realized someone was behind her. Just as she turned her head, she felt a big hand touch her ass. It was Mr. Combs, and he started fondling her. She quickly pushed his hand off and said, "Stop. Not again." He smiled and put both his hands around her hips, "Oh c'mon now, I think you'll like it." She pushed both of his hands off and replied curtly, "No, I'm serious. Stop that and don't do it again. It was a mistake years ago and it's a mistake now."

He smiled coyly and swung a carrot. "Well, I don't think making you a teacher is a mistake."

That got her immediate attention. She asked, "What do you mean by that?", examining his eyes. They looked like he was serious. His hands grabbed her hips again and he pressed his crotch into her ass. He was hard. He explained, "Tomorrow is a district meeting and I intend to put the question forth."

Suddenly she worried if she told him off again too harshly, he'll change his mind about the promotion. She told him no twice already, and the third time would have to be escalated with a threat that she didn't want to make yet. She reminded herself of how petty he could be.

"Really?" she asked. "You're not kidding?"

He nodded and ran his hands all over her ass. She didn't react negatively quick enough, and that unfortunately invited him to take further liberties. She sighed and felt like a fool. Of course, there was going to be a price to pay. She turned away, facing the wall. "My, Miss. Debbie, you sure look naughty these days." His crotch pressed harder into her soft ass, and his hands started going up her torso. She felt disgusted and humiliated by him but said nothing. Her hesitation to react wasn't helping. His hands ran all the way up to her big breasts and started fondling them. He grunted. "Goddamn I missed those big titties. Did you miss me?" With contempt, her eyes glazing over, she replied with an unemotional "Yes."

He reached under her shirt and ran his hands all the way up to her breasts, pushing her bra off. While groping her bare flesh, his crotch pressed into her ass and he kissed her neck. She just looked at the wall, fuming at her inaction. One of his hands ran under her skirt and over her panties. "Since when do you wear nylon panties?", he wondered outloud and started stroking her pussy through them.

She felt so degraded. His cock was pressing against her ass, he was playing with her pussy through her panties and squeezing her breasts. Over the past month she rode a high of wielding her body for influence and attention, and didn't realize what it would cost her. And now, apparently a day away from her goal, she couldn't just stand her ground and push him off. He was starting to kiss her neck more passionately and play rough with her breasts. She just wanted this moment to be over.

With regret, she thought of the quickest way to get rid of him.

She reached behind and hiked her skirt up, and then pulled her panties down. Then she licked her hand and wetted her pussy with saliva. Mr. Combs took the hint right away. "Damn girl, you did miss me", he said while unzipping himself. Within seconds, his cock was struggling to slip into her, but she was too dry. He kept rubbing it around, as if that would do anything, and grinding into her pussy lips trying to push it in.