Hot For Teacher

by Jack Scranton 4 months ago in erotic

It Seemed like A Good Idea At the Time

Hot For Teacher

Todd contemplated his future. Okay, that's false. More like what to do with the rest of the evening. Maybe lash together that story for Creative Writing Ms. Jenkins expected on Friday. Which was, wow, like tomorrow!

Ms. Jenkins. No question, she was absolutely the hottest MILF in the English department. He spent every one of her classes hiding a boner. Damn, like concentration wasn't hard enough.

He fired up the old Macbook, but before coping with his literary disaster, Todd hit some of his favorite web sites. Meat Pit, with a new animation by Gristle666: the dismembered puppets were pretty lame, but the raw meat splattering against the wall was totally sick; Riot, with the longest running flame war in internet history; he browsed a news site, checked Sorcha Faal for the latest conspiracies but eventually he clicked his way to Boob Blog—his newest fave, sure, but hey, you couldn't just go there right off. That'd make you some kind of perv.

The site loaded and WHAM!!! a slap in the face (if only!): The Daily Boobs! Wow, beauties. Perfect round targets, nips dead-center, right where they belong. He read the blurb:

Follow along, fellow slobbering wankers, as today's twins take us down mammary lane. The fabulous focus of our fetishistic fixations is Jennifer, a red-hot honey whose humongous hooters held us hopelessly helpless in a hammerlock wherever we turned, back in the day. Then, mysteriously, she was gone. But nothing dies in the archives and you can bet we'll drool over her till the end of time.

Whoa! That could take a while. He'd endure it, though. Click on the gallery link, click for the slide show. Oh yeah. Look at those puppies, that body, that face...

Huh. Now there's some serious shit... nah, it couldn't be. Could it?

Call him crazy, but he'd swear he was looking at Ms. Jenkins. Okay, she's older now than... who...? Jennifer...? Yeah, that's real. No one's ever used that name before.

But... but... same face... same fuck me smile... and, if Ms. Jenkins' tight sweaters were any clue, same boobs.

The slide show cycled on, but Todd was thinking. An idea flickered. What if he wrote his story—okay, check this out—what if he, like, wrote a story about a guy who finds naked pictures of his teacher on the web, right? And he, maybe, blackmails her... or something. He'd work out the plot stuff later. But the best thing? He had illustrations. Lots of them. Be almost like a graphic novel. Well, not really.

He glanced back at the continuing slide show. Holy Cripes, how'd she manage that...? Damn! That thing was the size of Rhode Island.

Ms. Jenkins, huh? She'd have to give him an A. This was foolproof. The Holy Fucking Grail!

He right-clicked and began saving to his desktop.

* * *

Five days later Todd stared uncomprehendingly at the large red "F" on the title page of his story. A note underneath said, "We need to talk about this."

Right, like there was anything to talk about? He didn't see, actually, a whole lot of wiggle room. He'd blown it. Big time. She'd even kept the pictures. Bitch. Hey, it's not like he was trying to blackmail her or anything. Hello... fiction!? Anyone heard of artistic license?

Still, that afternoon he knocked on Ms. Jenkins' office door expecting cops, or any number of totally sucky developments.

"It's open," she called.

He entered and began his march to the scaffold.

Ms. Jenkins glanced up. After a long, cool look she started to laugh. That’s not what he'd expected.

"You idiot," she said.

"That's kind of harsh."

She stood up, walked to the front of her desk, sat on the edge and crossed her legs beneath one of her trademark short skirts. "Sit."

If she was mad, she didn't look it.

"I should have you expelled. But you're too pathetic."

She didn't sound mad either.

"Do you think you're the first horny boy to stumble over those pictures?"

"Does that mean it really was you?"

"Aren't you quick? I see why you're in college."

Todd couldn't figure out the look on Ms. Jenkins' face. Sort of a smile, but whole lots more, like when everyone knows the joke but you, because you're, like, the joke.

Then she said, "Of course it was me. What of it?"

She waited. Probably be a while 'cause he had no idea what to say.

"Did you bring your story?"

He held it out like a blanket laced with small pox.

She skimmed through the pages, shaking her head at this or that, muttering, "Oh my..." from time to time.

"This passage here—"

How many days had he watched those babies jiggling around under a tight blouse and thought, Please Lord, just one look, maybe a squeeze, and I can die happy.

She looked up. "Can I assume your main character is biographical?"

“Well… you know…”

She sighed. "You're a good looking guy. Why the sleazy web sites? Don't you have a girl friend?"

"She broke up with me. On Facebook."

She gave him an exasperated look, then walked over to the door and—Hey now!—locked it.

"I flunked you because there was not one speck of academic intent in any word you wrote."

"Well... yeah..."

"But I admire your initiative. And effort. That deserves something. Don't you think?"

Now she stood right in front of him. Too late, Todd realized he had a boner to end all boners, a steel-belted, Ms. Jenkins boner.

She noticed too. She smiled. "How sweet." Then she said, "Do you stuff things in there to make yourself look hung?"

"Nah, not enough room."

"Good to hear." Then—Heart attack time!—she unbuttoned the top button on her blouse. Then another. And yet another. She carefully pulled her blouse from the skirt in which it was tucked, then leaned over him, supporting herself with her hands on the back of his chair. He stared down her blouse into the valley of perfection.

"Would you get those last two buttons for me?" she asked.

It occurred to Todd, just then, that he probably should breathe from time to time and so he got right on it. The sudden influx of oxygen shot straight to his crotch, where his thumping heart echoed in the achingly stiff slab of wood struggling to escape its confines. He fumbled with her buttons but couldn't muster the manual dexterity required to get the job done.

"Come on..." she coaxed, "you can figure it out. Put that expensive education to work."

PHEW! Finally. And the blouse fell open. She leaned closer, almost burying his nose in her cleavage. "Could you unclasp these? I think they want to come out and play."

Her bra, lacy, virtually see-through, let her nipples peek through, teasing him like coins in a miser's fantasy. Her bra cups clasped at the base. With fingers nimble as dry plaster, he tried once, twice, three times to unfasten them from each other, feeling stupider and stupider with each failing second.

Then she purred, "Relax. You're not in a hurry, are you?"

"Um... well... no. Well... I mean, yeah... pretty much."

She tussled his hair. "Poor boy, have I confused you?"

With just one hand she unfastened the clasp; like the Pearly Gates, the material opened onto the purest form of Heaven he'd expect to find in this life. Two of the most absolutely immaculate boobs he'd seen, since... well, since finding her on Boob Blog.

Ms. Jenkins let one nipple, then the other, graze across the tip of Todd's nose. "Your prose could use a healthy dose of subtlety," she said. Then she lowered a nipple to his lips. He let his tongue flick over it. "But for all that, you were quite complimentary. A girl likes that."

Except for his tongue, Todd still hadn't moved. Now Ms. Jenkins caressed his bulging crotch, pulled down his zipper and with deft fingers, coaxed his hard shaft into the daylight.

"My, my. All that for me?"

He'd waited long enough, reached now for her boobs and sank his fingers into the soft, rippling mounds.

"Ouch. Hey, save some for later, will you?"

He jerked back like she'd tased him.

"Don't go away," she chided, returning his hands to her breasts. "Just don't start off with the accelerator floored.“

She raised her skirt and now Todd's heart stopped altogether. Ms. Jenkins wore no panties. A dainty strip of dark hair parted at the top of her lips like a pristine fur collar. She opened her legs and, as she straddled him, spread herself apart. Her swollen clit rose from its protecting sheath like a red cape taunting a crazed bull. Todd saw nothing else, extended a hand until the tips of his fingers made contact with her incomparably soft flesh. He slid one along her wet slit and ran the tip lightly over her stiff bud of nerves. She cried out like a kicked cat. He pulled away; then, after making her wait just a second or two longer than she wanted, touched her again, same place, but lighter this time, like a feathery kiss. Her hips shook and her thighs squeezed against his body.

"Oh God yes," she moaned. "I think you're getting that subtlety thing worked out."

Todd toyed with her clit a few more times and then, as she waited for more, he gave it a quick, sharp flick. She went rigid, as though the rush of sensation shorted out all her circuits. She threw her head back, eyes closed, mouth parted, and a low moaned tore itself from her throat. He did it again and she gasped, then began to whimper. Once more, and now she was becoming totally unwrapped. She stretched her lips wider, pulling them up at the same time, forcing the little magic button to protrude as far out as possible. Todd kept toying with it, now stroking it, now pinching it, then flicking it some more.

He would have spent all day playing with her like that, but finally she reached for his cock, raised up off him and placed the head just inside her lips. Todd couldn't remember a boner this stiff. He was so swollen it hurt. But as she slowly began to lower herself onto him, the ache was replaced by an enveloping sensation of smooth, slick warmth, like a return to something primal and pure, a place where he'd always belonged and only now realized it. Then again, maybe pussy just felt good.

Now Ms. Jenkins finished her slow descent and let him settle inside her as their positions locked in place, a perfect fit. They held themselves in that moment, she leaning over him as her breasts rubbed his face. Then she began a slow rise up, arching her back and curving her hips until once more the head of his cock rested just inside her.

"Looks like you're going to have to write a new ending for your story," she said, and nibbled his ear. Then she fell onto him, and, as his cock plunged forward into a brave new world, Todd stopped thinking about beginnings, endings, time in general, or much of anything else, for that matter.

Jack Scranton
Jack Scranton
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Jack Scranton

Writer, image retoucher, musician/composer, 3D artist. Despite modest success in all those fields, Photoshop paid the bills.

See all posts by Jack Scranton