Hot for Teacher

I was staying late to finish up my art project. As usual, I was the last one to finish, using every last minute before the deadline. I was not completely alone, however. She was still working as well--sitting at her desk, grading the last assignments before the much anticipated and needed break, listening to the quiet sounds of Dave Grohl, Chris Cornell, and the like.

Mrs. Linda Carmen, that was her name. She was my favorite teacher, considering the quality of looks and conversations she provided. Yes, looks, indeed. Linda was a charming woman verging on middle age yet easily able to pass for 30. Her pale pink face, complemented by her silky, light brown hair, her pink, always slightly parted lips, and her stunning gray eyes, may as well have been painted by Leonardo or sculpted by Bernini, both of whom she greatly admired. The modesty of dress required by the small school never inhibited her beauty; in fact, the opposite proved true. Currently she was rocking a white blouse, olive pants, and sensible gold ballet flats.

"Just a few more minutes, then I'm out of here."

"I'm almost done, I swear," I reply. "I'm just as ready for break as you are, Mrs. Carmen," I chuckled.

"You have no idea," she returned. "All right, I won't distract you anymore."

Good luck with that, I thought.

Still I managed to focus quite intently on finishing, quickly adding final details. Giving it a final inspection as the deadline approached, I noticed Linda's reentry into the room. I didn't realize she had left, I pondered.

But something was different about her; as to what, I could not quite name it. I studied her, attempting not to be caught inspecting her the way I was, as she returned to her desk in the corner. She sat, and I noticed. She noticed as well: her usually flat stomach was protruding ever so slightly. I could tell somehow she was trying to hide her worry as she said, "Are you nearly finished?"

Did I respond or not? Maybe I uttered, "Are you feeling alright?" Maybe I stared incredulously. Either way, it was continuing to grow, and quickly at that. Linda stood as her blouse began to strain. For what seemed an eternity, neither of us acted: we both froze, her with panic and me with shock and amazement that my dream was coming true. As her abdomen reached the size of an overdue pregnancy, the sudden swelling of her breasts and ass caught her attention.

"Help!" she blurted, but I was frozen, kept in place like my feet were cemented to the floor.

Pop! Pop! Two buttons, one from the bottom and one from the breasts, broke free as she swelled more and more. Her arms began to fill, as did her legs, in addition to the rapid growth of the rest of her body. Another pop! resounded from her pants, whose seams were straining. She expanded laterally as well, eventually beginning to resemble a sphere. Her crotch lowered, forcing her thickening legs further apart; her back puffed out; her conical arms appeared to be shortening.

It was no longer just as resemblance. Linda was undoubtedly becoming spherical as her abdomen, crotch, breasts, and backside joined. Her clothes strained but miraculously held on as she rounded out. In no time, she was like a big balloon with flapping hands and dangling feet, filling the space where the tables had been before they had been pushed against the wall.

As if in a trance, I approached her, inspected her new form, and pressed what had once been her stomach--a bit of give, but not much. Her growth was not stopping. I stepped back, awe-struck, and noticed that Linda's once model-like face had puffed up, that her fingers refused to flex as her hands plumped up, and that her flats strained as her feet did likewise.

She was definitely running out of room, both in body and in space. She threatened to push against the tables and the walls, while the reddening of her previously pink skin indicated she did not have too much longer. Once more I was glued, unable to bring myself to escape.

Her extremities sank into her body, muffling her cries; her body pressed the walls; her skin groaned as she neared her limit.

Time slowed as suspense, the groans of her straining skin, and her body filled the room.

BANG!

I lay on my back as I slowly regained consciousness. Fuck, I thought groggily. I quietly crawled out of bed, not wanting to wake my roommate, opened the drawer, and procured a clean pair of underwear, placing the now wet pair in the hamper.

Seriously, stop reading inflation fics before bed, I berated myself. I climbed back into bed, hoping for a dream that would not make such a mess.

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