An Expansive Math Class


Angela shifted in her seat. Her brain was fuzzy from allergies, and she just couldn’t focus on class. At eighteen and the very end of her senior year, she could practically taste the freedom summer promised. She just had to get through another few months of school, and she’d be free forever. And she just had forty minutes until the temporary freedom of the weekend.

She couldn’t focus on anything the teacher was saying. This was ridiculous. She was easily distracted in math class at the best of times, and this hay-fever was making everything worse. With a sigh, she fished in her bag for her allergy medicine. Instead, she found a small brown bottle.

Angela turned it over in her hand, hidden under the desk, until she remembered. Her sister had shoved this into her bag yesterday, promising it would work better than the usual antihistamine. It was an herbal remedy, supposed to clear up the worst allergies. Well, Angela was ready to try anything. She palmed two pills into her mouth, and took a long sip of her water bottle.

At first, she didn’t notice anything. Her eyes were still itchy, and her brain was still a muddled blur. But then she started to feel…different. Her eyes stopped itching, and she could finally breath through her nose again. Angela smiled. Finally, a solution!

She still felt kind of fuzzy, but she was much more comfortable now. She could almost even focus on the board in front of her, on the teacher’s droning voice.

Then she started to feel really different.

It started as a warmth in her belly, a gentle heat radiating out from her center; a calmness. But it traveled up her body to her breasts, and down to her pelvis, like a slow itch. It built in intensity, making her squirm.

Her chest felt funny. When she was on her period, sometimes her chest would ache and her nipples would be extra sensitive, but this was like her period turned up to eleven. She could feel every fiber of her bra pushing into her chest. Her t-shirt, which had always been somewhat baggy, now felt constricting.

She surreptitiously pressed her forearm into her chest, testing. The feeling almost made her moan out load, as a wave of intense pleasure pulsed all the way down to her pussy. Her chest wasn’t just oversensitive; it was physically pushing out against her bra. Her shirt was taut. Normally she had a decent B cup, but just looking down Angela could tell her chest had expanded to at least a C.

She pushed into her chest harder, still trying to remain as casual as possible. Another wave of pleasure shot through her, and this time she could feel her chest push back against her arm. She could see cleavage forming in her v-neck, and wanted nothing more than to slip a hand inside her bra and give some relief to her aching nipples.

“Miss Thompson?”

Angela jerked her head up. Her math teacher was standing in front of her, giving her an annoyed look.

“Yes?” she responded, ashamed to hear the catch in her voice. She hadn’t realize her breathing had changed.

Mrs. Simon gestured at the board, raising one eyebrow. “Would you take one of the problems, please?”

Angela glanced around, as a few other students were moving to the board. She did vaguely remember hearing something about volunteers, but she’d been too distracted by whatever was going on with her body. With any other teacher, she would have claimed a cold and gone to the nurses office, but Angela knew better than to try that in Mrs. Simon’s class.

“Sorry,” she said, standing up in a hurry. She took a quick breath as her arm released her chest, and the new weight of her breasts settled against her shirt. Her t-shirt was pulled tight across her chest, and she could feel a slight breeze against her stomach, where the new stress was pulling up the rest of her shirt.

Now that she was standing, she was very aware of the friction between her legs. She wasn’t wearing especially tight jeans, but just like her chest, she was suddenly aware of every inch of her jeans pressing up against her crotch. Each step sent a ripple of pleasure through her, an itch she desperately needed to scratch.

Her chest seemed to swell imperceptibly with each step, as if in time with the pleasure. It felt fethiye escort so heavy now in comparison to her usual size, even though she doubted it was very noticeable to anyone else. She hoped.

She made it to the board somehow, but of course she could barely concentrate on the problem in front of her. The numbers blurred in her vision. She’d hoped it would be easier when she stopped moving, but without the friction, her crotch ached with a strong longing. Angela had never masturbated before, but now all she wanted was to press her hand into the soft folds between her legs; to do anything to relieve the pressure.

“How is it going?” Mrs. Simon’s said, coming to stand next to Angela.

Angela had never even looked at another women before, but with the strange heat rushing through her, she looked at her teacher in a new light, taking in her curves. Mrs. Simon was dressed conservatively, with a high-necked button-down shirt and a pair of slacks, but for the first time Angela was aware of just how fascinating her teacher’s chest was. It was bigger than her own–or at least, bigger than her chest used to be–and it seemed to stress the button-down shirt slightly, creating the smallest of gaps between buttons. The darkness between was tantalizing, and Angela felt her whole body react to the attraction, a wave of heat traveling swiftly from her nipples to her crotch. She fought back a gasp.

Mrs. Simon was looking at her curiously, and Angela wondered what mortifying faces she was making.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I’ve got really bad allergies and I just can’t…” another wave hit her, and she fought the swoon that threatened her. “I just can’t really…ahh… concentrate.”

To her surprise, Mrs. Simon smiled. “Ah, yes, I know that feeling well. How about you do a problem on the board tomorrow, ok?”

“Sure. Thank you.” Angela stumbled back to her seat, almost lost in a blur of lust. Her arms came up to support her chest, and she fought the urge to go further and dig her hands into her aching nipples. Just the thought sent another wave of passion through her.

When she sat, her chest pressed into the desk below her, and Angela realized just how big it was getting. Maybe she was hallucinating, but her chest seemed to have doubled in size. Her nipples were rock hard, and with her bra stretched flat across them, they were fully visible for anyone to see. The waves of pleasure were coming faster now, and Angela couldn’t resist any longer. She placed one hand under the table, where she hoped no one would see, and rubbed into her jeans.

Mrs. Simon was having impure thoughts. She’d alway fought hard to resist temptation, and had always been good at keeping her personal life–and thoughts–far away from the classroom. As a young teacher, she was already far too aware of how few years there were between her and her students, and she worked extra hard to keep them–and her–from remembering it.

But that girl. Mrs. Simon had never noticed before, but there was something about her, something on a deep, subconscious level, that called to her. Something lusty and forbidden, like an intoxicating perfume.

She’d hit a growth spurt, that was for certain. As Mrs. Simon gazed out at the class, she was amazed at how she hadn’t noticed the change earlier. Angela had always seemed pretty normal and flat-chested, but at some point, her chest had certainly changed. It was shameful to even be noticing it, but Mrs. Simon could barely keep her eyes off her.

When Angela had stood at the board, Mrs. Simon had noticed for the first time how tantalizing her silhouette was. All curves and soft angles. Clearly, the girl didn’t know how to dress for her new size, since her t-shirt was having trouble accommodating the new growth. It was pulled so tight that her chest looked bigger than it probably was. The girl must also be cold, because her nipples were very prominent.

As she watched Angela return to her seat, Mrs. Simon was taken in by the slow sway of her hips, and the way her chest settled with each step. She clearly needed a new bra, too.

Mrs. Simon cleared her throat. “Very good,” she said, looking at each of the completed problems on the board. “Yes. Yes. escort fethiye Very good. Alright, class,” she said, turning back around. But her mouth went dry when she saw Angela.

The girl was sitting heavy in her seat, her chest pressing into the desk in front of her. It looked somehow even bigger than before, and the pressure of the too-small shirt and bra was creating ample cleavage above the v-neck. Mrs. Simon could have gotten lost in the shadow in between, but that wasn’t what caught her attention.

Angela’s face was flushed, and Mrs. Simon could see from here how heavy she was breathing. With each breath, her chest seemed to swell, and her eyes clenched, as if she was in intense pain…or something else. Her mouth was open slightly, and Mrs. Simon could swear she could smell the sweat rolling of her; a not unpleasant smell that made her instantly and shamefully wet.

Mrs. Simon coughed. “Ahem. Now, lets work on problems 30-50 on our own, shall we?” She took a seat at her desk, the problem book propped open behind her, as the class settled into quiet rustling. But she couldn’t help herself from peering surreptitiously at Angela over the top of her book.

Angela had one arm across her chest, and her hand was buried into her side. Mrs. Simon could swear her palm was pressed into her own breast, and could see the slight flinch of muscle as she carefully kneaded herself through her tight bra. Her other hand was under the table, hidden from view, but something about her posture gave Mrs. Simon a pretty good idea of where that hand was.

Her eyes were unfocused. Angela stared straight her the work book in front of her, but her mind was clearly somewhere else. What’s more, even in the few seconds since she’d set the class the assignment, it seemed like Angela’s chest had grown even more. Not taking her eyes of the kneading hand, Mrs. Simon watched Angela’s chest press more and more into the strained fabric, her mouth opening more in what was unmistakably a sign of intense pleasure.

She was so embarrassed for the girl. It didn’t look like anyone else had noticed yet, fortunately. Angela was sort of a loner, and didn’t seem to have any real friends in class. Mrs. Simon wanted to help her somehow, to save her from a potentially humiliating experience.

She stood up abruptly. “It’s Friday,” she said to the astonished class. “What say we all get out of a here a little early?”

They didn’t need to be told twice. At her words, the room irrupted into cheers and woops of excitement. Everyone bustled around, knocking into each other, and in minutes the room was empty. Empty, except for Angela.

She hadn’t even moved. She was still just sitting, staring at the book in front of her. Her chest was clearly bigger now, and the fabric of her t-shirt was stretched so thin it looked like it was in danger of ripping. Mrs. Simon wondered if she was having trouble breathing.

“Miss Thompson?” she said, going towards her. Angela didn’t respond. She was cupping one breast now, her hand working the nipple through her shirt. Her hand was dwarfed by the breast it cupped, and her movements were frantic, clumsy, desperate.

Mrs. Simon knew it was wrong. She knew she was in a very dangerous spot, with precious few options before her. But she walked to the back of the class, and locked the door anyway.

“Angela?” she said gently, using the girl’s first name for the first time. She stood beside her, and from this angle, she could see the girl’s hand pressed between her legs. She could hear Angela’s heavy, lustful breathing, certainly not helped by her constricting shirt. “Angela, are you ok?”

Angela was only vaguely aware of the rush of students around her, and the sudden quiet that followed. She’d tried to focus on her work book at first, but once she let her hand settled on the side of her chest, she’d lost focus all together. This was entirely new to her; she’d never felt this intense passion, this intense longing. She wasn’t even sure what she was longing for.

All she knew was the pleasure that rushed through her when she followed her instincts.

Her breasts were first. She’d always known her nipples could be sensitive, but each touch, even through fethiye escort bayan the layers of her bra and t-shirt, made her squirm and moan with intense pleasure. She kept the noises to herself, she hoped, but she was almost beyond caring.

Between her legs was something else. Something fiery and alive. Her boyfriend’s had always been fascinated by that area, but they’d never given it much attention. At least, much skilled attention. Even the gentle pressure of her hand against her jeans was driving her mad. It was all she could do to keep from plunging her hands inside her jeans.

And then the touch against her arm.

The touch itself, added to the sensations coursing through her body, was heavenly. She looked up through the blur across her eyes, not really surprised to see Mrs. Simon.

“Angela?” her teacher said. “Are you ok?”

Angela shook her head, aware of how lethargic she was. “I don’t know,” she panted. “I feel…funny.”

Was that a knowing smile on her teacher’s face? “Everyone’s gone now,” Mrs. Simon said. “You don’t have to hold back anymore.”

“What do I do?”

Mrs. Simon hesitated, but only for a second. “May I?”

Angela nodded, and before she knew it, warm arms were massaging into her chest, Mrs. Simon’s thumbs working the nipples expertly through the fabric. Angela moaned out loud this time, letting her own hand fall back to her side. The heat in her body intensified, and she could feel her chest expanding into her teacher’s arms. Her bra was so tight she could barely breath.

“We had better get this off of you,” Mrs. Simon said with a gentle smirk. The hands stopped their motion, and Angela almost cried out at the abrupt change, but then the hands were behind her back. Her bra was cutting into her skin, and it was clearly giving Mrs. Simon some difficulty. She leaned into Angela so she could better maneuver, and Angela found herself staring directly into her teacher’s soft cleavage. Without thinking. Angela moved her hands up to caress the other woman’s breasts, giving special attention to her nipples, remembering how good it had felt.

Mrs. Simon shivered against her, as if she was cold, but Angela knew it was something else entirely. Finally a great pressure was released, and Angela’s bra snapped up above her chest, pushing into her neck. Her nipples sang as the underwire slid over them, and Angela cried out at the sudden pleasure.

Mrs. Simon’s hands slid over her breasts again, pushing her shirt up, and Angela watched as her breasts grew before her eyes. They were huge now, bigger than she’d ever seen. Did they even make cups this size? Her nipples were huge and hard as nails, and Mrs. Simon’s hands were making fast work of them, teasing the tips and gently massaging the area around them.

“My pants,” Angela mumbled, pressing her crotch feebly into the chair below her. She needed pressure there. Now.

“I know,” Mrs. Smith said. She lowered herself down, one hand still giving attention to Angela’s breast, while the other worked its way down her stomach. Every inch she touched came alive, and Angela was writhing against the chair below her. Her teacher unbuttoned her jeans, and slipped her hands below.

Angela moaned, and her whole body bucked against the hand. Mrs. Simon’s deft fingers pressed and caressed, and Angela felt something building inside her. That something she’d been longing for.

She felt something wet and warm settle on her chest, and realized her teacher had wrapped her mouth around one of Angela’s breasts, her tongue beating away at it.

“Yes,” Angela said. “Oh…oooooh, Mrs. Simon.”

Warmth gathered in her pussy, building around the quick, deft movements of Mrs. Simon’s hand. So close. So close.

“Oh god. Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god.” Angela said, as the feeling intensified. Suddenly, the most heavenly feeling hit her, making her body convulse. The fingers worked harder, and Angela pushed her pelvis to meet them. The feeling swept through her, and Angela went limp.

“Oh,” she panted, slumping into the chair. “Oh my.”

Mrs. Simon released her hold on her nipple with a last flick of her tongue, and pulled back from Angela. Her own breathing was heavy. “How do you feel?” she said.

Angela just looked at her. The swell of her breasts, her hard nipples outlined against her white button-down, the cute flush to her cheeks. Through heavy breath, she said, “you want to try my allergy medicine?”

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