“Edgar Allan Poe was a writer in the 19th century who exemplified the American…” The opening sentence of what seemed like the millionth essay on Poe droned through my head as I tried to convince myself that it was actually worth it to pay attention to the remainder of the essay. “Next time, kill me if I use Poe as an example for anything ever again,” I mutter to myself. Rubbing my eyes, I glanced at the clock for a moment, sighed, and returned to grading. My eyes had actually started to drift closed when I was “awakened” by the sound of the heavy metal classroom door clicking shut.
“Mr. Stone?” I squinted toward the front of the room, and when my eyes focused, I saw a woman that I vaguely recognized from parent-teacher conferences several months ago. Whose mother…damn last night’s faculty party! Half of the campus has a hangover today and I can’t figure out who the parent is who just walked through my door…
“Yes,” I responded, “can I help you?” I leaned back in my chair, finally taking it all in. Her hair drifted down to her shoulders in gentle waves and curling up coyly at the ends. She wore a collared, v-neck t-shirt that came down and revealed just enough to tease at a fit, middle-aged belly. Her belly button seemed to wink at me as my eyes fell upon the clingy skirt that flowed down to her calves. I cleared my throat, suddenly aware that I had just looked her up and down – not professional at all.
“No, not really – well…” Her voice trailed off as she smiled slightly. “I just wanted to thank you.” Her smile broadened at the sight of my obviously confused face, and she laughed. “I’m Brittany Oakwood’s mother. She has just had such wonderful things to say about you this year.”
Clarity was a welcome feeling, and this was now a pleasant distraction from the endless Poe essays. Brittany had been disillusioned with English class and with school in general – she was endlessly fighting with her teachers and her trust in authority figures was a distant memory from elementary school. Slowly, I had gained her respect and trust by being patient with her and showing her that I wouldn’t let her fail, no matter how hard she tried to do so. During the course of the year, she blossomed before my eyes, and grew more and more confident throughout the year. She had been working with me during lunch for the last three weeks, working out the details of an essay she was putting together for admission to a private New England college – writing, rewriting, and rewriting again. “Well, she’s a smart and ambitious girl – I’m just glad I was able to help her.” Usually, this is how these kinds of meetings end…boy, was I in for a shock!
She smiled again, and came around my desk and sat on its edge, to my right, leaning against it. Ice-blue eyes flashed at me. “She was admitted to the college she wanted – and she credits your essay for her full-ride scholarship.” Her leg moved over slightly, brushing against my own. I felt a sudden rush of blood and I licked my lips, aware that I was beginning to swell under my belt.
“The credit is all Brittany’s, Ms. Oakwood. She’s a talented writer.” I adjusted my hips slightly to allow my rapidly growing erection to point toward my belly instead of uncomfortably downward. I must have moved quickly, because she caught the movement and her eyes flickered upon what must have been an obvious bulge by now.
She smiled again, and tilted her head to the left somewhat, allowing her hair to slightly cover one eye. Her hair looked soft to the touch…I came back as her leg pressed more firmly bahis firmaları against mine. “Even so, she wouldn’t be close to where she is now without all of the help you’ve given her this year. I guess I just wanted to come in and thank you.” Placing her hands upon the desk, she lifted herself slightly so that she was now fully sitting upon it, her toned legs dangling slightly off of the floor. Her eyes drifted over me, and she bit her lower lip.
My heart was beating. What was going on? Was this actually happening, or was I lying in bed at home, asleep with a hard-on? I cleared my throat. “Is there something else I can help you with, Ms. Oakwood?”
Again the smile broadened, but this time she hesitated, then lifted her right leg and held her foot between my legs. With incredible control, she traced a line up my cock from its base with her big toe. When she reached the tip, she relaxed it, placing her foot upon me. “Perhaps…but there seems to certainly be something I can help YOU with.” I inhaled sharply as she actually squeezed me with her toes. “Especially, since I’m so, so, so grateful.” Ms. Oakwood punctuated each “so” with another squeeze.
My throat closed up and I found it hard to breathe. “Ms. Oakwood, I uh, hardly think that, um…” My voice trailed off as she leaned in toward me, the scent of her hair and the glimpse of her naked breasts inside her shirt shutting me up.
She picked up my right hand, and placed it on her leg. Her hand guided mine as she slid my fingers along her smooth skin until my fingertips touched warm, slinky wetness. “Mr. Stone, you can’t let me go that easily; can’t you see what a bad, bad girl I’ve been?” My eyes closed as her teeth grazed against my ear as she whispered. “I need a little discipline, don’t you think?”
I could take it no more. The thumb of my right hand snapped to attention and pressed against her wet clit, hard, then began to move slowly in a circle, sliding against the slippery sides of that tight bud of nerve endings. She groaned in my ear, then clasped my earlobe between her teeth. “Mr. Stone…I’ve been so, so bad…”
Huskily, I managed a reply. “I can see that.” I slipped a finger inside her as I turned to her and seized her neck with my mouth. My left hand moved to her breast, caressing it through her shirt and squeezing the solid nipple between my thumb and forefinger. My face brushed against the fabric over her breasts as I lowered my face to her leg. My mouth brushed against the skin of her knee as my lips began their journey north. My tongue tasted the sweetness of her skin as I pushed the edges of her skirt up to her hips. Leaning forward, her hands clasped my shoulders as my lips found sustenance in the wetness of her pussy. Lapping it up, my tongue moved slowly at first, then danced upon her lips, moving frequently over her clit and sucking on it occasionally. She let out a low moan, then I slipped my fingers inside her again, curling them up against the hard spot I found in there. It feels like a peach pit, it’s so hard, I thought to myself. She gripped my shoulders harder and emitted a mid-pitch “hhhuuuuuuuunnnhhhh,” then shocked me by pushing me away.
“Wha…” I couldn’t even finish before she moved quickly and answered my unspoken question.
“I’m the grateful one being disciplined here, remember?” Her eyes, glazed and dark from arousal, met mine for a moment before she sank to her knees before me. Her hands slid up my legs to the bottom of my shorts and entered them, the tips of her fingers grazing against the sides of my balls kaçak iddaa inside my boxers. I jerked slightly, then leaned back as her lips traced a line up my cock on the fabric of my shorts. Her hands caressed my skin, teasingly brushing up against me as her mouth opened and slid up and down the length of me. When she reached the head a second time, she squeezed her lips on me, biting down on it gently through the fabric of my shorts. One of her hands moved below my balls and stroked them slightly as the other grasped the base of my cock firmly and tugged ever so gently. “What do you want me to do, Mr. Stone? Tell me what you want…”
My hands entered her hair and stroked it…it was as soft as I thought it might be. “Unzip my shorts, Ms. Oakwood.” My eyes darted quickly to the sound of voices in the hallway, then moved back to her as they faded away…the door was unlocked. Her left hand pulled away from me to comply, but my hand left her hair and seized it by the wrist. “No…without using your hands.” I marveled at my boldness. She approved, for she gave me a secretive smile.
“Anything you like, Mr. Stone.” Her lips fumbled clumsily for a moment against my zipper before gaining the necessary skills, and she slowly pulled the clasp down the zippered teeth, her eyes upon mine the entire time. She adjusted her hands slightly, and my erection burst out of my shorts, staring us both in the face. Her mouth brushed against the tip of it. “And now, sir?”
I could hardly speak above the throbbing taking place in my lap. “Put it in your mouth, Ms. Oakwood. Suck my cock…stroke me with your tongue…” I really didn’t have to finish the sentence, and I’m not really sure how much actually came out, but I had no sooner opened my mouth before her tongue came snaking out of her mouth and curled around the tip of my cock, pulling it inside her lips. She slowly lowered herself onto it, inch by inch, until she was virtually kissing my belly, then slowly let her lips pull upward, sucking hard as she pulled away, as though her mouth didn’t want to let go of me. My eyes closed and my hands gripped her hair firmly as her hand slipped around the base of my erection. I let out a deep, carnal moan and felt her tongue sliding up and down my shaft. She seemed to have infinite patience, pulling my cock slowly in and out of her mouth, completely unhurried.
I felt my right ankle move around her lower back as my hands were enveloped in Ms. Oakwood’s soft hair. My eyes were closed, feeling her warm mouth all around me, taking me in and out. I was startled by a sound in my ear and then realized it was me. A low moan was slipping out of my mouth, a seemingly endless note, then stopped when I had to take a breath. My breathing grew rapid inside my chest and seemed to echo the fierce pounding of my heart against my ribcage. Her velvet tongue slid over me again and again and again…she must have noticed a change in me, for she quickened her speed, sucking me in and out of her mouth faster, pausing here and there to nibble at the tip. She lingered there for a moment, and our eyes met – her clear blue eyes teasing me, tasting me, enjoying me – and then, with a ferocity that made me fight back the urge to scream my pleasure aloud, she sucked the length of the shaft in all at once and I erupted within her, shooting burst after burst into her throat. My body shook with spasms…and when it seemed as though I was slowing down, her head began to move again…her tongue moving slickly against the skin of my cock, pulling at me, lengthening me, hardening me, not kaçak bahis allowing me to fade away. Finally, she stood and turned around, her tight ass betraying no pantylines through her skirt as she bent over the desk slightly and looked back at me.
“Isn’t it tradition for the naughty girl to be bent over the desk? Or isn’t this that kind of school district, Mr. Stone?” Her hair fell over her face, revealing her eyes as they flashed their desire for me. I needed no further invitation.
Without speaking, I leapt to my feet and lifted her skirt. My left hand moved back inside her hair as my right hand guided my cock to her wetness…entering her was heaven. My right hand moved to grasp her hip as I slid myself deeply inside her. I was rewarded by a deep moan that seemed to stem from her belly. She shook her hair slightly and looked back at me, then closed her eyes and thrust herself backward against me. My thrusting within her grew stronger as my hand slipped inside the front of her skirt. My fingers slid down between her thighs, my fingertips seeking the hard, wet bud of your clit. Her lungs inhale sharply and she jerks against me, her interior muscles gripping my cock tightly inside her as I find what I seek, and my hand begins to move quickly between her legs, matching stroke for stroke the thrusts I make within her.
Grasping her hair, I turn Ms. Oakwood’s head toward mine and I lean forward. Our mouths become clasped together in a primal embrace, our tongues merging and sucking furiously on one another, the sweat from our faces mingling on our lips as I move myself faster inside her. Our bodies slap together as the head of my cock rubs against her G spot over and over again. My hand continues to massage her between her legs and our kiss breaks, broken by the frenzy of movement as we try to get our bodies closer together with each thrust, seeking to pull me deeper inside her every time I move into her, and I switch hands, my left moving between her legs as my other hand moves inside her shirt and grasps her nipple, sliding it back and forth between my slickly wet fingers and using her breast to pull her against me harder and my mouth moves to her shoulder as my hips move faster and we’re moaning in unison and I bite down, hard, as I erupt once again, this time deeply within her, and I feel her release as she spasms all around my cock and her legs shake as she pushes against me and she presses her forehead against the cool surface of the desk, feeling the waves rushing over her as I slow my thrusts down, shaking and enjoying the last moments I have within her.
I rest my face against the skin of her back for a moment, her shirt scrunched up around her shoulders as we both catch our breath. She props herself up on her elbows, then pushes herself back up to a standing position. She turns to face me and, smiling a little tired smile and letting her eyes linger on me for a moment, she leans in, her mouth touching mine. Our lips part just slightly, and our tongues get the slightest taste of one another.
She turns her back on me and straightens her clothing. Without a backward glance, she strides toward the door. Her hand rests upon the handle and she pauses, turning to face me. “Thank you for all that you’ve done, Mr. Stone.” Her eyes rest upon me for a moment longer, and then all I have left of Ms. Oakwood is a memory as the sound of her footsteps fade away down the hall.
I sink into my chair, my eyes finally resting upon the crumpled title pages of the essays I still have yet to grade. My eyes roam around the mass of paper until they are caught by a single line of typed text on my most recent professional evaluation. I erupt in laughter, and look forward to another year.
“Works hard to establish rapport with parents.”