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Teacher teacher

"When Paul needed a little personal instruction, his teacher lends a hand"

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Going back to school for my junior year was a much anticipated event. I lived in a very rural community and my home was out in the boonies even for that place. The result was I didn't get to see my buddies all summer, and you can hang up the idea of seeing any of the girls. I didn't have a drivers license, a car, or money for gas. You could say I was out of luck.

Before the bell rang to get everyone moving toward their homeroom, I talked to as many people as I could manage, a frantic whirl of 'Hey, how ya been, whatcha been up to?' This was mostly directed at my male friends as my supply of female friends was basically nonexistent. That's ok, I got it, the little popularity fairy was never going to whiz by and blow pixie dust on my awkward ass. I was kewl with it. Really, I was. Really.

Who the hell was I kidding? I wanted to be popular but when the chance came to chat with a girl my throat constricted to roughly the size of a mouse's ass. That, coupled with the fact that my mind went totally blank for subjects to talk about made me the Invisible Man. I was the prototypical spare tire, the wall flower, the one chosen last, no matter whether it was for a game or a social event.

School dances were a torture for me, but I couldn't resist going. I knew I was going to end up being a miserable, frustrated piece of quivering hormone addled teenage flesh. Nonetheless, I had an almost masochistic drive to subject myself to the indignity of the whole thing.

I'd see the popular kids looking so relaxed and carefree, laughing their asses off and basically just having a high old time. I spent my time lurking along the perimeter, trying to find an unobtrusive section of the wall that needed my support. I could literally feel my energy leaking out from my ankles like Achilles after his mortal wound. I bet that fucker could dance, though.

But this was the first day back, and no dances were scheduled for weeks. I could breath the clear air without the impending doom of a social occasion. My excitement may have been a little over the top, but isolation with do that to you. Even better, I was a junior. One rung down from the Olympian heights of seniorhood, another year away from giving serious thought to 'what happens after'.

My first period class after homeroom was Literature. The same old same old, diagramming sentences, the elements of language, all that crapola which held as much allure for me as typhoid fever. Speaking of which, I always excelled at biology or science courses, things that actually could engage my mind. Don't get me wrong, I love to read, but the mechanics of writing sucked the big one. I liked to drive too, when I got a chance, but it doesn't mean I want to overhaul an engine.

I had Ms. Oren for Literature which was kewl. She was as tall as myself, very slender but with some curves too. Her breasts were small, just little puckers on her chest while her ass was deliciously small and rounded. Her waist was tiny, like one of the babes in the old forties musicals where the female lead was always slim, trim, and oh SO sexy. Ms. Oren had that look about her. A flawless complexion, milky white skin, perfect small teeth, and eyes like a lake of melted chocolate. The only flaw was her hair, which was jet black. She wore it up in this godawful beehive arrangement which was almost like a Roman soldier helmet. I know, it was an in thing back in the day, but so were Slinkies. Cut me a break.

So off we go into the wonderland of the English language. I managed to pay attention for at least twenty minutes. My mind did what my mind does, it started its own mystical journey. It lingered on Katie Lawrence who was showing a LOT of thigh today, and thank you so much Katie for that. It went along in the same vein until almost time for class to end when I started to get this zipper busting spontaneous erection! At first it was just a regular boner, enjoyable but no imminent threat to fabric or modesty. It kept getting harder and bigger until I was hunkered down across my desk in an effort to mask it. That's when it happened.

The bell rang to change classes. I had 3 minutes to get out of Lit and get to my next class which was Drafting I. How to make a graceful exit when Lawrence of Arabia had apparently pitched his tent in the front of my pants? I couldn't sit there until it subsided because the male hard on is like the wind, it comes and goes at no mans behest. I'd learned that word just this past year.

So, my solution was to shuffle out the door as stealthily as possible with my books kind of shifted to the front to at least partially occlude the one eyed monster from sight. I'd seen a telltale spot of moisture as I got to my feet and I knew my rocket was prepared for lift off. Out the door I sidled as casually as I could manage. I'm sure my face was roughly the same shade of red a wrestler's might be after he went a few falls with the state champion.

About halfway to Drafting my raging erection surrendered and went back into dormancy. What the hell was that all about? I was at a loss to explain it except just maybe the Norse god of boners had stricken me with his mighty hammer.

Soon events distracted me and the rest of the day was fairly normal. Three classes, lunch, three more classes and off home or to after school activity. I wasn't doing any after school stuff yet, saving my considerable talents for the stage, being a dedicated Thespian. My friend John was a jock and he always ragged on me about being a member of the lesbians. I wasn't against the concept.

Next day the cycle repeated. About ten minutes before the bell to change classes who shows up but Mr. Woody! It was a monumental boner the same as the day before. I'm sneaking peeks to see if anyone is peeking at me. Thankfully, no one was. Back to hunkering over my desk like I'd eaten a sack full of green apples. This was embarrassing! I did not want a hard on, Sam I am, no not even a teenie tiny one. The bell rang and I got up, shifted my books to hide my jutting mast (and accompanying wet spot, because where would Batman be without Robin), and shuffled out the door.

This repeated every day as dependably as the sun coming up. I'd gotten a little more casual about it but it was still embarrassing. I'd resigned myself with just enduring the inconvenience and hoping that this little phase would finally exhaust itself. It wasn't as if I didn't vent my sexual energy. I had a rich and varied fantasy life which led to masturbating two or three times every night. You'd think Mr. Woody would appreciate the rest.

On the third Monday as my hard on appeared I was doing the slow eye, looking to see if I was being noticed. All was well I thought as my classmates were busy with their work. I turned my head in time to see Ms. Oren quickly jerk her attention to the other side of the room. I was busted! She'd been scoping out my bulge as I was looking to make sure I was on the down low!

I was seized by embarrassment, frantically thinking of ways to have Mr. Scott transport me from the surface of this planet! My communicator must have been broken in the last phaser barage because yours truly wasn't going no where. Here I was stranded on planet Phallus with no escape!

Mercifully the bell rang. I was getting ready to finally slink away like a yellow cur when Ms. Oren spoke.

"Paul, can you stay for a moment? I'd like to speak with you for just a minute."

"Uh...uh...mmmm." My conversational skills were cranked up to full power.

So instead of doing the slide for the door here I was stuck face to face with Ms. Oren. I had zero designs on her tender young body. I was old school and my fantasies were spent (or wasted) on my contemporaries. Most of the female teachers could pull a plow, with there being just a few exceptions such as Ms. Oren.

As I stood there by the side of her desk I faced slightly away. I didn't realize that what I was accomplishing was putting myself in profile. She smiled at me and looked me in the eye, a contact which I had difficulty returning. My face was on fire and I wished for a tub of ice water to dunk my head in.

"Paul, I see from your work you're struggling a bit. I could help you with it after school, if you'd like. I don't know what your schedule is after school, but if you're free I'd be more than happy to drive you home. It's up to you, but I'd really like to help."

I got myself together just a little and told her that'd be great, that what we'd been studying was kind of hazy to me. I told her I wasn't involved in any afer school activities and that I usually went home and did my chores. After that, I'd do my homework, or at least make an attempt at it, doing the bare minimum to keep me out of dutch with my Mom. She worked the evening shift so she was clocking in at the factory where she worked at about the same time the dismissal bell rang at school. I was on my own all evening, free to fix my own dinner, watch TV, read or do pretty much as I pleased.

The next day was a repeat of all the others, with one exception. When the pecker fairy came to call Ms. Oren was ready. She didn't make any attempt to conceal her gaze at my swollen crotch. I could see just a tiny hint of a smile toying around the corner of her mouth as she drank in the sight. She asked me to stay just a minute after again, which I resigned myself to do.

"So Paul, do we begin our studies this afternoon after school? I hope you've thought it over. I know your grades will show an improvement with just a few hours of tutoring. What do you say?"

I can see the ball when its coming over the net. What to do, swing or just stand there and lose? I grasped onto whatever vestige of courage I had.

"Sure, that'd be great. I've thought about it and I'm willing it give it a shot."

Her smile was luminous as she put her hand on my forearm.

"I'm so glad! I have to pick up a prescription at the pharmacy first thing after. Can you just meet me there?"

I agreed and that's how I became Ms. Oren's star pupil.

After school I walked the two blocks to the pharmacy and there was Ms Oren just getting into her car. It wasn't parked up front but rather around to the side of the building.

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I didn't think a lot about it. I walked over and she rolled her window down and told me to jump in, which I did.

She glanced over at me and gave me that radiant smile again.

"I hope your meeting me here didn't put you out. I had to pick up my birth control pills. I can't let those little things go neglected!" She giggled a little at that and she looked like a teenager herself for just a moment.

"You'll have to tell me where to go, I don't know where you live."

I gave her directions and we arrived a few minutes later. I walked home sometimes and it took me most of an hour to make the hike.

We parked in the space beside the house, the view of her car mostly hidden by lilac bushes and forsythia. We entered the side door and were greeted by a ringing silence. "No one here but us chickens", I thought.

We went into the kitchen and I offered her a glass of tea which she accepted. I also had one and we sat at the table, me at the head with her along the side, her chair scootched close to the corner. Out with the books and we spent about a half hour working on my studies. She sat back and stretched, smiled and told me she thought we were making good progress.

"Can I ask you a question, Paul?"

"Sure, I guess so."

"You know that I notice you every morning, don't you? The...condition...you get in?"

I felt the flame ignite in my face, creeping down toward my chest.

"Uh....yeah, I guess so."

"I just want you to know that I think that is so sexy. You are a very good looking young man, Paul. I hope you realize that."

Her hand found my thigh under the table and started to gently caress it. With each stroke of her fingers they crept higher. My cock exploded into rapt attention, started to ballon into Mr. Woody. Her fingers found it and started to dance along its length, tease it playfully.

"Paul, can I ask another question? Have you ever had a girlfriend? I don't mean really as a friend, but one who you have been intimate with?"

I stammered that no, I hadn't. So now she knew I was a virgin. I think my face at that point would never stop being scarlet. I hadn't really planned on having this conversation this morning as I wolfed down my Cheerios.

She stood up and faced me, reached her hands to my own and helped me to stand as well. She came close to me and leaned even closer.

"I want you to kiss me, Paul. I think you could become a marvelous kisser with the right teacher."

I did as she asked, gave her a dry little kiss on her lips. She giggled and told me that wasn't a kiss, that was a greeting to my old auntie.

She kissed me then and it wasn't dry at all. She opened her mouth on mine and I couldn't help myself from tasting her mouth, the softness, the warmth.

"Mmm, that's much more like it. Now let your tongue play with mine. It's like a dance, I'll lead and whatever I do you respond to it."

"I don't dance." Another secret came rushing out of my closet. Soon enough I wouldn't have any left.

"You will now, Paul. You're going to learn many steps in the dance of love and it's going to be my privelege to be your teacher."

Ms. Oren was right, it was like a dance. Our tongues teased, then played, then finally demanded from one another. It wasn't too far into the lesson that I found myself taking the lead and her following. Kisses on lips, eyes, cheeks, neck, ears, everywhere was a target for this new delight. She allowed me free reign and luxuriated in my attentions. She arched her neck for my kisses like a cat preening.

Her hand was still teasing my cock through my pants. It was torture but oh my stars what a sweet torture it was! She took one of my hands and put it on her breast. I could hold it completely in my hand. I was almost afraid to move my hand. She reached up and started to unbutton the buttons of her dress. When she'd gotten maybe four undone she told me to slip my hand inside. I did, cupping her breast again. My fingers found themselves seeking inside the cup of her bra until I found her nipple. I froze, not sure how to proceed.

"Paul, touch it, it's alright. It's better than alright, it's divine. I love to have my nipples played with."

I didn't need any further permission and started to stroke it. I could feel it harden under my touch. The skin around it was incredibly soft and warm.

"Would you like to see them, Paul? They're for you to play with, if you'd like."

I murmurred assent. She unbottuned her dress the rest of the way and shrugged it off her shoulders. I'd expected for her to reveal her breasts but she let the dress fall to the floor. She stood there in just her bra and a slip over her panties. Her bra was cream colored as was the slip. Without saying a word she hooked her fingers in the slip and pushed it off her hips. Her panties were cream colored as well, and I could see the outline of her mound as they cradled her.

"Paul, do you think we could go into your room?"

I didn't speak, just took her hand and led her to my bedroom. Our home was tiny, a single story wood frame house. It wasn't a shanty but it was no palace.

When we got there she softly closed the door behind us. She reached around and unhooked the catch on her bra and let the straps slip off her shoulders. I saw her breasts, the nipples hard little nubs about the size of cranberries, and just a little paler. Her aureoles were also small and dusky colored. I saw tiny little raised spots, like gooseflesh on them, along with a few tiny downy hairs profiled in the light from my bedside lamp.

She came to me and my arms encircled her warm body. She pressed her panty clad crotch hard against my throbbing shaft and I started to realize how hungry she was. I didn't know if it was a hunger for sex, for me, or for attention, but she was ravenous. Our kisses became harder, more insistant, stoking the heat between us.

Her hand which had been caressing my bulge went to my belt and tugged it loose. She undid my jeans and smoothly ran my zipper down. She fell to her knees and put her hand inside my jeans, fishing my hard shaft free of the constriction of my boxers. I watched her as she took the head into her mouth. Her hand deftly skinned the foreskin back, exposing my glans. She started to lick it, swirl her tongue around on it. I was insane with a combination of pleasure and lust.

She took my cock all the way into her mouth. I could feel it bang the back of her throat, then actually go down her throat. The incongruity of the situation hit me and I stiffled a laugh. Here I was with my Lit teacher swallowing my cock!

She started to stroke my cock with her mouth. The combination of wetness, warmth, and pressure quickly sent me over the edge. I came with my cock deep in her throat. She felt my cock spasming and she held it there, taking every drop of my seed. I'm sure it wasn't an impressive load as I'd jacked off a couple times the previous night. She didn't mind at all, just took every drop I had and swallowed it down.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hold back...."

"Shhh, that's alright, Paul. That was perfect. I love the feel of a strong cock in my mouth and the taste of cum  as it fills my mouth. That's just the way I wanted to have you cum for me."

"But you didn't....uhhhh....you know....you didn't get yours!"

"Oh, but I will. You have more to learn. I'm going to lie on my back with my legs hanging off the bed. I want you on your knees between them. Take my panties off for me."

I did as she asked, sliding them down her long slender thighs, exposing her neat dark bush. A thin line of down trailed all the way up to her belly button. I kneeled between those thighs and savored the sight of her pussy. I didn't know exactly what a pussy was supposed to look like. It's a lot more complex than I thought. My idea was it was just a hole which roughly corresponded to the diameter and length of my cock. Imagine my surprise to find all those folds and whorls, that tiny pink nub which was already at attention and exposed at the top of her channel. I also didn't expect there to be so much silky nectar. Her pink slit was shiny already from her arousal.

"Now, kiss it, Paul. Lick it softly, along the outer lips. They're swollen in anticipation. That's right, from the top all the way to the bottom on one side, then back up the other. Taste me, Paul. Lick my cream into your mouth, let your tongue have it's fill. Your tongue feels so damned good!"

I was happy to stay there for as long as she wanted. I licked and kissed, nibbled and teased at her direction until I could see her tummy contracting in waves as her thighs started to tremble as well. This quickly built to a crescendo as her orgasm engulfed her, swept her away. She grasped the back of my head with one hand and ground my face into her pussy as she came. I thought for a moment I'd suffocate, engulfed in her quivering cunt. She relented before I saw stars and I returned to my task, gently now, tenderly, exploring her lovely womanhood.

My cock had returned to its glorious hardness as I dined on her pussy. I had hoped to get inside her delicious pussy with my cock. She sat up and grasped my cock in her hand and started to jerk on it with abandon. It was just a short while until it erupted with another splash of sperm which she directed onto her luscious tits. Just a few pearly drops shining on her skin, a sight I'll always remember.

We lay side by side for a while after that, just chatting as she showed me how to just relax, not feel so pressured to be something I'm not. I reveled in the sensation of lying naked with this woman, holding her in my arms, stealing kisses.

After a while she stood and gathered her clothing, asked where the bathroom was. I gave directions and she stole out of the room quietly. In a short while she came back, the proper school teacher once again.

We chatted a bit more. She mentioned that I must never tell anyone about our time together. I agreed, not wanting to get her or myself into trouble.

After that day every Monday afternoon I had personal instruction in English and sexual pleasure. It was a great junior year.

Published 
Written by Taggerdoo
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