Each of his comments gave me a funny feeling in my stomach. I wondered if he could see what effect they were having on me. Each night I fantasised about him. I played with my p***y while imagining his face, his lips on my t**s, his fingers in my p***y. I wondered if he could tell. I didn't dare mention it to him. I was sure that his comments were a way of being nice to me, to increase my confidence, which they did. It was just that the primary effect of his comments was that I had a permanently wet p***y when he was around.
One day Mr Barnes wasn't in the lab at the end of the school day and I collated some data on my own, according to his instructions. That night at dinner my mother wanted to have a chat.
"Your teacher Mr Barnes came in to the shop this afternoon," she said.
"Oh?" I wa
