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Teacher, teaches me a lesson

Teacher, teaches me a lesson

It was my last day of school and Miss Evans decided I needed detention.
My name is Jonathan and I am seventeen years old, it was my last day of school for this year and our last lesson was Geography. I am normally a very well behaved pupil; a bit boisterous at times and a bit of a rebel when I have my friends around me, but then I do have friends that would encourage and lead me on. But underneath the brave façade lies quite a shy boy for my age. My friends and I have all bragged about the things we have done to try and outsmart each other; as all boys do at that age.

Miss Evans, was our supply Geography teacher for the last lesson of the afternoon, and she was acting no different to how she always acted. My friends and I had often wondered if the things she did were deliberate or not. She would, on occasion, sit at her desk and put her legs up on a stool while we were supposedly studying. It didn’t take long to figure out that if we sat at particular desks we would in fact be looking directly up her rather short skirt. Occasionally, we would catch a glimpse of her white knickers. It would send us into raptures of giggles for most of the lesson. This was of course coupled with the way she used to bend over our desks while talking to the person in front. We would often take it in turns to sit behind each other and ask her questions; pretend to be dumb and not understand the questions. Her short skirts that she always liked to wear were ideal for giving us an excellent view from behind and sometimes a stiffy in our trousers. Then there were the times when we used to stand next to the chalk board and she would be sitting at her desk; the view down her top showed off her petite breasts perfectly to our gaze. She never seemed to wear a bra, well, not the ones we were used to anyway.

So perhaps you can see why our minds often wandered to sex at the way Miss Evans used to behave in front of us. We would frequently look at each other and giggle, and we would try and outsmart each other to see who could get the best glimpse up her dress or down her top. It was teenage horniness at its best, and Miss Evans couldn’t have been more than about twenty six years of age at the most, which put her in the ‘lust after’ age group.

As I said earlier, this was the last day of school and my friends had bet me that I wouldn’t try and touch her arse. I wanted to, badly. Miss Evans was parading up and down the aisles looking at our work as she moved from pupil to pupil. I looked at Dave opposite me and he mouthed quietly that I should do it now. I didn’t know exactly what I was going to do. I felt my heart race and a plan hatched in my head. At least with my plan I could always feign innocence.

Miss Evans was fast approaching my desk. I let my right hand fall to my side, clenching the plastic ruler in my hand. Miss Evans glanced at my work and then at me. I had hardly written anything. My heart was pumping furiously as my hand lifted deliberately. The ruler caught her dress about half way along at the back and then lifted her skirt high. Someone shouted that Miss Evans had white knickers on from the back of the class.

Miss Evans quickly swiped the ruler away and moved so that her skirt once more covered her bum.

She just looked at me with a frown. A frown that meant I was in trouble.

“Sorry Miss,” I said before she had time to accuse me of something deliberate. She stared at me and continued to the next desk and then the one after that.

I glanced at Dave to my right and we shared a giggle; a brave ‘I did it’ moment shot through me, I breathed a sigh of relief. I watched as Miss Evans made it to the front of the rows and was returning to her own desk.

“Jonathan Davies,” she said, matter of factly, “you have detention tonight and you will stay behind while the rest of the class can go home.”

I was dumbfounded.

“David Wiltshire, there will be no need for you to wait for him, he will be some time.”

I looked at Dave, I was gutted. Dave just laughed.

It took a very long forty minutes until the final bell went for home time. I got up and started to go out with the others, but there was no way Miss Evans was going to forget. She stopped me and made me sit down at a desk about three rows back from the front. Everyone filed out of the room. The corridor and the whole classroom area was awash with the noise of pupils leaving their class and school for the summer holidays. The noise stopped as sudden as it had started. I was suddenly aware that it was just me and Miss Evans in a very quiet room.

Miss Evans was sat at the front marking some papers before she finally turned to peer at me over her studious spectacles. She removed them, got up and walked towards me. She sat on the edge of my desk. I waited despondently for her to say something.

“Do you make a habit of looking up women‘s skirts?” she asked. My eyes opened wide and my mouth soon followed. It was not what I was expecting. I declined to comment on what I had just heard.

“Well, I’m waiting for an answer Jonathan!”

“N…N…No Miss,” I stammered. I was now feeling rather afraid and somewhat insecure. I guess it was the directness of the question, the straight to the point nature of it that frightened me. I had to be in deep trouble for a question so direct.

“What if I were to look at you without your trousers on,” she continued, “Would that seem fair?” she asked.

I did not know what to say, I just looked at her.

“Take your trousers down Jonathan,” she said, as she picked up the ruler that was on the desk and tapped her hand with it.

I just looked at her in disbelief.

“Come on…Do it!” she exclaimed. I eventually rose from the chair, unbuckled my trousers and let them fall to the floor. I knew what was coming. I was about to get the ruler over my backside, but at least I would get to go home soon.

“Drop your pants as well, there will be no protection for you,” she told me.

“Miss, I don‘t want to Miss,” I replied hesitantly.

“Come on get them down,” she insisted.

I dropped my pants and stood there in front of Miss Evans. She was tapping the ruler on her palm at a constant and determined pace.

“Sit down, Jonathan,” she started. “I don‘t want to use the ruler, all I want is an answer to my question.”

“Do you like looking up women‘s skirts?” she asked again. I sat down on the chair. My insecurity was heightened by now. Thoughts raged through my brain as I decided the best way to get out of her class. I decided a straight answer may well be the best option, it would be the truth as well.

“Yes Miss, I do.” I answered.

“Well, at least that was honest,” she replied.

Without warning, Miss Evans then slipped her left leg across in front of me and slid onto the desk. I looked at her and then at her closed legs. There was a lot of leg between her skirt and her knees but I was aware that she was staring at me intently and I raised my head to look into her eyes. She just looked at me and eventually a smirk drew itself across her face. She placed the ruler on the desk.

I felt a little safer, but just as insecure as before. I did my best to hide my emotions from her and I have to admit it was the most surreal moment that I have ever experienced.

“I also like looking at men‘s willies,” she said after a short silence, “so I guess it‘s only fair…”

With that, Miss Evans opened her legs and placed them on either side of my chair.

My eyes flew open as I was confronted with the sight before me. Her knees parted slowly and my eyes followed the rift right along her thighs, up her skirt; which by now was almost wrapped around her waist like a scarf, and finally onto her white panties.

I stared at her panties for what seemed like ages. My mouth open all the time.

Her panties barely covered her mound and I could see black hairs peer out from behind the white cotton. I noticed a wetness in the middle of her panties, close to the desk. I watched as her hand strayed to her knees and she guided it up her thigh to rest with her fingers touching her panties. I watched as her red fingernail scratched along the cotton ridge and then retraced its steps. She opened her legs even wider as she leant back on the desk. She even raised her arse off the desk so that she could scoop her skirt from under her.

“My, oh my!” exclaimed Miss Evans, “you are a big boy,” she said out loud.

My eyes immediately shot to my groin. Up to that point I was completely unaware of anything other than Miss Evans’ crotch, knickers and thighs. I was horrified to find that my cock had grown as hard as it could and was now pointing visibly upwards from my groin. I found myself panting. My eyes closed and I willed my cock downwards with every breath. I knew it wasn’t going to comply to my will.

I raised my head and glanced at Miss Evans’ panties once more. I stared at them and at her gorgeous milky white thighs and I felt my cock pulse on its own accord.

“I bet it‘s hot,” said Miss Evans.

I didn’t know what she was referring to until she bent forward and invited herself to handle my cock. Her hand slipped to the base and brushed against my balls and then she grabbed my cock in her hand.

I watched intently as her hand formed a fist and she slid it up the whole length of my eight inch cock. It was the first time it had been touched in this state by anyone other than me. I started to tremble. My lips quivered as I watched Miss Evans stroke my cock. The sensations were unbelievable; a hundred and fifty percent more intense than when I did it at home under the bedclothes. I found myself closing my eyes and I felt every stroke, every squeeze and every pull of the skin around my cock. I immediately started to panic. I could feel my spunk rush up my cock in response to the tugging that she was doing. I wanted so desperately to make it last, but there was nothing I could do about it. Miss Evans had tugged at my cock once too often and she had only tugged at it for what must have been about three maybe four pulls, and I was cumming. I was desperately willing it back down again, I was panting and I was becoming highly embarrassed as finally my spunk shot from the end, over my tie and shirt, and eventually over Miss Evans’ hand.

“Hmmm…that was quick,” she eventually said, “hold it here,” she told me, wanting me to replace her hand with mine.

Miss Evans got up from the desk and walked towards her own desk at the front of the classroom. She opened a drawer and removed some tissue paper. She came back to me and gave them to me. I immediately started to clean myself up. Again, I was dumbfounded when I noticed that Miss Evans was actually sucking my spunk from her fingers as she watched me.

I continued cleaning up the spunk from my cock and clothes as she came to stand to the side of the desk.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a loud crash and the classroom door opened.

“Jenny, are you just about ready…” Mr. Davies, the Maths teacher had burst into the classroom and was searching out Miss Evans. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed that I was sitting behind where she was standing.

“Oh! Sorry Jenny, I didn‘t realise you were with someone…” continued Mr. Davies. He peered around Miss Evans. “Been naughty have you, Jonathan?” He asked. I said nothing in return.

With that Miss Evans walked towards him and ushered him out of the room. I don’t think he saw the state of undress I was in as I was mostly hidden behind Miss Evans and behind the desk.

“Stay there Jonathan,” Miss Evans barked at me, “detention has not finished yet, I will be back in a few minutes,” she continued.

She left the room presumably to inform Mr. Davies that she would have to stay a bit longer. She was gone more than a few minutes and at one point I wondered whether she was ever going to come back.

I had far too much time to wonder about the events of this detention so far. I knew one thing and that was Dave would never, ever believe this story. I could hardly believe it myself. The one thing I really wish though was to have lasted a bit longer. Four seconds is hardly what I would call stud-like.

I was startled by the door opening again. This time it was Miss Evans and she closed the door quietly and walked towards me.

“I had to explain to Mr. Davies about your detention,” she started, “about why you had been so naughty in class and why you were now here with me.”

I became a little frightened as I imagined Miss Evans telling him what had happened between us and what detention had meant to me so far. I slowly came to realise that Miss Evans must have made up some excuse.

Miss Evans positioned herself in front of the desk for a second time.

“Now,” she said, “you need to be taught one more lesson for looking up my skirt in class…”

I wondered what was coming next; I just looked into her eyes.

Miss Evans then slid the back of her skirt up to her waist and slid back onto the desk. She looked at me as I tried to look at her panties. I had trouble seeing any white like I had before and I strained my eyes trying to look. Miss Evans then opened her legs like she did before and my eyes opened as wide as her legs could have, probably wider.

My eyes caught sight of the black hairs coating her pussy. They were trimmed but still prominent. I could see a red moist line parting her pussy lips. The more she opened her legs, the more the red line opened to reveal her pink velvet-like flesh. Miss Evans edged forward on the desk.

“Since you like looking, why don‘t you get a closer look,” she told me.

I could feel my cock grow as I edged forward. I marvelled at her white thighs, her brazeness at revealing her pussy to me and the way she acted in front of me. As I got closer I could smell her sweetness. I looked up into her eyes.

“Can I touch it…please?” I asked. Miss Evans nodded at me.

I extended my hand to her thigh. I traced my hand along its length and slid my finger along her pussy. It parted and nearly sucked my finger inside it. I stroked it a second time and my finger slid into her with ease. I was not prepared for the wetness, the silkiness and the smoothness of her pussy. It was so different to the hardness and rigidness of my cock.

Miss Evans finally placed her hand behind my head. I watched her as she pulled my face towards her. I really didn’t know what to do, but surely and slowly my mouth was getting a lot closer to her pussy with every passing moment. Instinctively, my tongue extended as I was about to touch her pussy with my mouth and I nearly died at the thought.

I slipped my tongue over her outer lips and over her pussy. It was exquisite in every sense. She tasted so lovely, so sweet. The feel of her wetness against my tongue was one of the best feelings I have ever experienced, even more so as my tongue slipped inside her pussy.

Miss Evans encouraged me to lick and suck on her pussy. I must have been doing something right as she was moaning and groaning on the desk as I continued to pleasure her. Eventually she lifted herself up and instructed me as to how I should lick at the harder nub just above her pussy. She encouraged me to flick my tongue towards it and to lap over it with my tongue and mouth.

It was the first time, I think, that I did everything Miss Evans told me to do without question.

Miss Evans was panting and moaning with every move I made. She laid backwards on the desk exposing her pussy and thighs completely. As she rested on one arm the other came up behind my head and she caressed my head in a loving way.

Miss Evans started to let out obscenities as she pushed her pussy up to meet the actions of my tongue. I let my tongue lick all the way up her pussy and over onto her clit. I sucked on her clit for a few seconds and then did exactly the same the next time. She seemed to like it. Miss Evans started to become a little more urgent in her ministrations. Her hands tightened around my head leaving me with very little movement up or down. My head found itself being thrust onto her pussy and I felt her thighs start to clench at the side of my head.

“Just lick it there…” cried Miss Evans.

At that precise time, my tongue was on her clit, but between her thighs and hand I couldn’t move that much anyway. I licked her clit; flicking my tongue over it and sucking it into my mouth every now and then.

“Fuck, Jonathan…I‘m cumming…” she finally shouted out into the classroom. She pumped her pussy and arse up to meet the lashings of my tongue and I finally tasted and felt a woman orgasm for the very first time. Well, at least it was my first time. No sooner had Miss Evans announced that she was having an orgasm, she started to push me away from her.

By now my cock was hard as rock and I stood up as Miss Evans was panting into the classroom. Her chest was heaving and her arse was periodically leaving the desk. I wanted to push my cock into her but dared not. Instead I waited for her confirmation that I could do so.

“Fuck it into me,” she told me eventually as she lifted herself up on the edge of the desk.

“Fuck it into me hard, Jonathan,” she continued.

I placed my cock at her entrance and pushed forward, I fucked it into her pussy and I heard Miss Evans moan and groan with a passion. I couldn’t have pushed my cock in more than about eight times but with every stroke the sensation of my cock sliding along her wet velvety sheath outdone the previous sensation.

Within a few minutes I found myself swearing at my own inadequacy. I was going to have to control this fucking spunking issue, I thought to myself, as my seed spurted into the cavity that engulfed my cock. Miss Evans shouted some expletive into the room that I would not have expected from such an eminent teacher.

I pumped inside her for several seconds and as we eventually parted she told me that I should get dressed as my detention had finished. She did the same, but I waited for her at the door to the classroom. We left the school classroom together and walked down the single flight of stairs in silence. The clip-clop of her heels and our breathing was all that was making a sound.

As we walked out of the door and into the concourse, Miss Evans turned to me and smiled. It was more of a grin really and I smiled back at her before lowering my head towards the floor.

At the entrance to the school gates, Miss Evans handed me a piece of paper.

“Take this,” she said, “and don’t forget to control those urges of lust…and don’t go looking up teacher‘s skirts anymore.”

She turned and walked up the hill from the school; the opposite direction to me. I turned and walked away. It was some distance before I opened the paper and read what was on it. Her name, Jenny, and eleven numbers was all she wrote, that was all. I guess I was going to see Miss Evans, I mean Jenny, again in the summer holiday after all.

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