I'm a fiction writer; I write fantasy. If you happen to read my stories, you know that I'm attracted mostly to tweens. Since I don't make any money off my stories, I have to work for a living, and I happen to be a teacher - I teach English as a Foreign Language in Mexico. For a number of years I taught elementary school, but working so closely with so many sexy little girls eventually became untenable. I don't like to brag, but I've been told more than once that I'm an excellent teacher, so after being dismissed from my last job (due to unproven but basically true allegations involving "inappropriate touching"), this year I've begun working in a high school. I figured that with girls who are a tad more mature and a bit less sexy than the ones I like best, it would be easier to keep my hands to myself. Alas, things did not pan out exactly as planned.

The school where I work is non-traditional in many ways. I have only two classes, one that meets on Monday and Wednesday mornings, and the other that meets on Tuesday and Thursday mornings; both last from 7:00 to 8:30 a.m., and then students have a thirty-minute break before their next class. There is an open campus, so students can come and go as they please.

Although each teacher is responsible for his or her own classes, the school has several campuses across the country, and a lot of what we do is dictated by norms from the central office, and lesson plans, grades, and attendance are all monitored via the Internet. Attendance at class is mandatory, and there is no tolerance for being late.

I'm expected to arrive at 6:55 for class, when I turn on my computer and check in. No time cards or sign-in-sheets for us - I mark my attendance or I don't get paid. Then I have a five-minute window to mark the students' absences. Once an absence is noted, it cannot be erased, and if he has five absences during the semester he automatically fails. The computer is merciless - even if a student misses a class due to illness or the death of a parent, it cannot be excused.

There is one way out, however, and that is we humans are more flexible and don't mark student absences for a few days. Rarely is there a valid excuse for missing (or even arriving late for) class, but it does happen from time to time.

Yesterday, my supervisor stopped by just after seven to remind my class of a poetry contest. Just then, Anahi, a well-built, very attractive girl of 17, came by - and my supervisor said, "Don't let her in." Sorry kid - you miss class and fail the weekly quiz.

Anahi is a very sweet girl, but she has missed several classes already this semester due to tardiness. Her parents did not have money to purchase the mandatory textbook during the first week of class, and she has ordered a copy at a local bookstore, but they're still waiting for the shipment to arrive from England where the books are printed. So she's far from the perfect student.

I gave my class as usual, and I gathered up my things (including the students' quizzes) and planned to leave the school to go to another, where I had class at 11:00. (The second school happens to teach computer skills and languages, so I like to arrive early to surf the Internet and catch up on my e-mail a bit before beginning class. That's hardly relevant here, so I'll say no more.)

As I left class, I chatted a bit with a colleague named Nancy, and Anahi came over. "Hi, Teacher," she said. "What do you think of my shoes?"

She had a brown boot on her right foot and a blue sneaker on the left. "That's cool," I said. "Do you have another pair at home that's the same?"

"No, but my friend Karen has a pair that's the same," she replied.

Nancy went on her way, and Anahi commented, "I'm sorry I came late today; my mother drives very slow. I was only two minutes late, but Ms. Martha (the English coordinator) hates me. I spoke to Ms. Margarita (the principal of our campus), and she said I should ask if I can do all the homework to make up for the classes I've missed."

"Well, yes, Anahi, but that doesn't make up for today's quiz."

"I know, but one quiz won't make much of a difference in my final grade," she commented.

"Well, you still have the problem with your absences," I pointed out. "You've already had four absences before today, and with today's absence you'll have to repeat the course."

"Isn't there something I can do?" she asked. "I'll do all the homework, I promise." "I'd like to help you out," I replied sincerely, "but these rules come from the central offices in Puebla."

"Please... you know I'll work hard," she begged. "There has to be something you can do."

"At this point, Anahi, I can think of only one way you can pass this course," I said.

"Anything... what do I have to do?"

"As I said, I'll do all my homework, and... I don't know..."

"Giving you a special break means I can get into big trouble," I pointed out.

"I can do a special investigation, or..."

"What good will research about English help you?" I asked. "You have to learn how to use the language correctly. I'd really be sticking my neck out."

"You mean... oh, Teacher, I've never done anything like that," she said, catching my drift. "I don't think I can."

"I'm leaving now," I said. "My car's out in the parking lot that's to the right of the main entrance. It's a gray Tsuru. I'll wait for you if you want to talk about this some more. But give me a good five minutes. I don't want to be caught leaving together by the surveillance camera."

I sat in the car for several minutes, nervously wondering if Anahi would rat me out. I had not actually propositioned her, and she had in fact turned down my suggestion, yet something in me told me to wait.

I was not disappointed; I did not even notice that Anahi was there until she opened the passenger's side door and got into the car. "Hi," she said shyly.

"So, you want to try to persuade me NOT to mark you absent and to give you a good grade on today's quiz," I said. "I'm listening."

"I don't know... it wasn't my fault I was late," she said. "And Ms. Martha hates me." "You know the rules," I pointed out. "No tolerance. I didn't let Francisco in class, either."

She took my hand and placed it on her chest. "I know, Mr. Spencer, but I mean this from the bottom of my heart... please."

"I'm listening."

"Um, shoes are the only thing Karen and I traded," she said, taking my hand in hers and pushing her blouse up. "This bra is kind of pretty, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is, but I don't think you really need a bra, do you?"

"Well, I guess I could take it off," she answered. "Would you like that?"

I didn't answer but simply allowed her to remove her bra. She had lovely, pointy tits with large areolas and long nipples that just begged to sucked on. "You're really pretty," I said. "I guess I could let you take the quiz next time, but we still have the little problem of your absence today."

This time her hand reached for my crotch. "I've never done anything like this before," she said for the second time. "Do you want me to pull your zipper down, or are you going to do that yourself?"

Up to that point, I'd been scrupulous about not saying anything that might be interpreted as suggesting we have sex - I let her take the lead every step along the way. I no longer had that luxury. "I'll do it," I offered.

I thought Anahi's eyes were going to pop out of her head when I unbuckled my pants. "It's big!" she exclaimed. "I mean, I'd read that it gets all stiff and everything, but... it's cool. Should I touch it, or..."

"Go ahead," I offered. "You can grasp it, and then kind of stroke it slowly up and down. But the best thing would be to suck on it, like when you suck on candy." Even though Anahi's in a high-intermediate level class, I could sense she was not sure what I was talking about. "Chupalo," I suggested in Spanish.

She bent over. Still holding my dick in her hand, she sucked on the end of it. I did not proffer advice, but instead let her experiment. She kissed the tip of my dick and looked up with her puppy eyes. "Is that okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, that felt good."

She kissed me again. Chills ran up and down my back, and then she began to lick up and down the length of my cock. She kissed the tip again before wrapping her tongue around the base of my cockhead, which she then took into her mouth. Again she twirled her tongue around my cockhead, and then she sucked hard.

The girl opened her mouth and stroked me quickly. She kissed the tip of my cock again, and stroked some more. "Anahi, that feels great!" I exclaimed. "Get ready, because I'm going to come. Yes, here it is, I'm going to come! I'm going to... I'm coming! I'm coming! I'm coming!"

Anahi was far from being my most skillful sex partner, but I swear my ejaculation was more forceful and more plentiful than any I'd had in the previous twenty years. Semen dripped from her mouth as she looked up at me, and then she swallowed what she could. A big grin crossed her face. "That was cool," she said. "I won't get sick, will I?"

I handed the little darling a handkerchief so that she could clean up. "No, you won't get sick," I promised. "You wouldn't want to go overboard and blow the entire soccer team, but an occasional mouthful of semen is actually good for you."

She looked at me dubiously. "Okay, I know it doesn't taste very good, and a lot of girls prefer to spit it out, but it's true - it's rich in proteins. Anyway, I must say you've been convincing. I won't mark you absent today, although you absolutely must make an effort to arrive on time in the future."

"Okay, I will," she promised. "What time is it now?"

I looked at my watch. "8:58."

"I'll never make it on time!" she moaned. "Now I'm going to get in trouble in philosophy class!"

"I'll go with you," I offered. "I'll tell your teacher you were doing a special project, and it's my fault you're late. I think he'll... is your teacher a man or a woman?"

"A woman."

"I think she'll forgive you."

My plan worked out - Anahi was accepted into the class, even though she was more than five minutes late. I hardly expect the girl to do all her homework as she has promised, so I anxiously look forward to a repeat of our special project next week.