Kelly turns up

Kelly’s due in the afternoon. That one fact colours the whole morning. What’s going to happen? No idea. Your invite was a spur of the moment decision. You shouldn’t have offered it, but it’s too late now. She’s coming. You have to handle it.

On impulse you turn the large statuette on. Probably a silly idea. You should turn it off. A couple of times you nearly do. Then the doorbell rings and it’s too late.

How can such trouble appear so beautiful? She’s delectable in a checked blouse and tight jeans, blond hair cascading over her shoulders, her oval face expertly highlighted with makeup. Her beaming smile makes your knees tremble with her beauty. It needs all your self-control to invite her in and not sweep her into your arms in a ionate kiss. No, no, she’s a student, and although you’ve already fucked one student, Kelly is a different matter. She’s a livewire. She’s a dangerous girl. She’s not a student you can control.

“So, this is where you live, sir. I thought it’d be some dingy apartment. You live here alone, sir? Or is there a Mrs Smith?”

“There is no Mrs Smith. I live alone.”

You offer her a drink.

“Beer? Or vodka.”

“No, squash, juice or water.”

“Oh, come on, sir. I’m old enough to drink.”

“No, squash, juice or water.”

She chooses squash. You gesture for her to go into the office. She enters, drops her handbag and then follows you into the kitchen. You tell her to go to the office. She ignores you. Instead, she opens the fridge and looks inside.

“See, you’ve got loads of beer. Not much else. You do live alone.”

“And how did you get here, Kelly?”

“Drove.”

“Then definitely no beer. What kind of teacher would I be, if I let you drink and drive?”

“One beer, sir.”

She lets it go and accepts the glass of squash. You make one for yourself and lead her back into the office.

“You said you had something to show me.” Let it be her breasts. Let it be her breasts. No. Stop thinking that way. Why are you thinking like that? She’s your student. A gorgeous student, with nice plump breasts, that clearly want to be free. And she’s alone with you in this house. And she’s fluttering her eyelashes and looking at you, as if she wants it.

“It’s this website I found. It has all the symbols on your office’s walls, and explanations. It was quite obscure. It took me a long time to find it. If you open your laptop, I’ll show you.”

Sounds like a trap to you. But you did invite her. If not for this, then why? You open your laptop, and let her type the website’s address. The page is non-descript, just asks for a and . Kelly has one of those.

“You signed up for this site?” you ask.

“No, no, I found an and . This is an invite only website.”

“Where did you get that from?”

“I have my ways.” There’s mischief in her green eyes, an attitude that complements her smile.

Only after you’re in does it announce that the page is for the modern witch. The modern what? It’s a simplistic website that Kelly surfs with experience.

“I spent all of last weekend looking through it,” she tells you. “And this is where your symbols are.”

On a page listing magic runes and their effects are the symbols in your office. Yes, identical. No doubt about it. There’s a select multiple symbols dropdown on the page. She clicks the three in question and then chooses the effect button. This moves to another page, where the three symbols are lined up side-by-side with text beneath.

“This says that those three symbols together on a structure deaden all sounds ing through the structure.”

“What do you mean?”

“So, no sound will through a wall covered in these symbols.”

“That means no-one will hear anything happening in my office.”

“If you believe in magic.”

You didn’t before your transformation. Now you’re not so certain. You have to take it seriously. Which means, two walls covered in these symbols, mean no sound through those walls. But the other two are outside walls, several stories up. Highly unlikely anyone would be in a position to hear through those. And the classroom is equally isolated.

“Do you believe in magic, sir?” Kelly’s question is so innocent, but you’re not going to answer it. You have other thoughts in your mind.

“Why would the school put these runes up?”

“I don’t think it’s the school, sir. I think it’s Miss Wandering.”

“Miss Wandering?”

“Yes, the joke was that she was a witch. All newagey and that. Very defensive of old beliefs. Went off on one when witch burnings were mentioned. And she really hated the church, especially the Catholic Church. Her favourites, very defensive when we joked about it. That’s why we called them her coven. That and her lovers.”

“It does make sense, though, sir,” Kelly continues. “She was always calling her favourites into her office. And she had special lessons for them, as well. Part of why we joked they were lovers. And if there are symbols like these on the classroom walls…”

“There are.”

“Suddenly the rumours sound plausible. You could get up to all kinds of mischief, and no-one would ever hear.” There’s mischief in Kelly’s eyes. A mischief that makes you uncomfortable. The way she’s looking up at you is delectable. Your dick is stiffening under her intensive gaze.

Maybe switching on the statuette was the wrong move. You’re very much aware of this gorgeous 18-year-old looking at you. Her sultry gaze. The way she shifts that just accentuates her femininity. Can you scent her arousal?

“Why are you helping me, Kelly? Why did you do all this?”