College Gameday Fling

This is my second series. I kind of churned this section out so hopefully you'll enjoy. There may be more to come if the interest seems strong. I've got an outline for future entries.

As always, I appreciate all feedback and/or criticism.

**********

The little brats in the seats just weren't going to behave this afternoon. They were probably still not fully acclimated to school, because the summer break had only finished a few weeks ago. Actually, that's bullshit. These were seniors in high school. They should be able to sit in a classroom and not act completely retarded.

"Ms. Thomas, why can't we just watch a video or something today?"

"Ms. Thomas, I need to start mentally preparing for the game tonight, can't we just have study hall?"

I just wanted to tell them to shut the fuck up and pay attention. I had prepared a lesson for the day and they were going to hear it. I teach American History to juniors and seniors at a suburban school in Georgia. Overall, they were good kids. I had some smart ones who would do well in life. But I had some real troublemakers. They were the kids who were peaking in life at 18 and gave no thought to their future. They also gave me tons of grief because of who I am.

I'm the hot teacher, Jenna Thomas. I know that sounds conceited, but it's true. I'm 24 and have been teaching in the three years since I graduated from college. I keep myself fit, eat right, and have been blessed with good looks on a good body. I'm a 5'7" brunette with solid Cs. Normally, it's an advantage in life. In my profession, however, I have a hard time being taken seriously by a group of 18 year olds. And I'm not just talking about the boys -- even though they're bad. The girls give me some of the worst problems. They're catty and try to outshine me at every turn.

Another major problem was the "Photo-gate" episode last year. One day, the principal called me into his office and we had to discuss why pictures of me were circulating among the student body. It turns out one of the kids found some pictures of me in a bikini at spring break from a few years ago on the internet. As I looked at the photos the principal had confiscated, I knew why he had to act. It was obviously me, and the bikini was really small and didn't leave much to the imagination. I suppose it's bad to say but I remembered that day and felt a rush of excitement. That trip in Cancun had gotten wild and was much more fun than anything I had done in a long time.

I explained that I had no idea how the photos leaked; I had deleted my Facebook account to avoid situations exactly like this one. The administration was really nice about it and we got the situation resolved. But to a large extent, the damage was done. The fuel had been thrown on the fire and now I was the object of all the boys' fantasies.

*****

I shut down the requests to have a day off and started my lesson about the development of the American political system. I always make a genuine effort to be engaging and not put the class to sleep.

"Tim, can you explain why the Federalist Papers are important even today?" I asked. He sat at the back of the class, shyly, and looking blankly at the wall. When he realized that I was talking to him he clammed up and couldn't get a word out. This was typical. He normally blushed and rarely got a word out. He was a good kid who would blossom in college, but he was just a little awkward at the moment.

I moved on to someone else and gradually the class moved along. After what seemed like a long time—even for me—the bell rang and signaled that the weekend had begun. I didn't have any plans, and I was pretty disappointed about that. I hadn't had a fun weekend in a long time. The prep work to start a new school year was mostly to blame, but even my summer hadn't been very exciting. How had I become such a loser?

At that moment my phone rang. I looked down and saw that my college friend Ryan was calling. Weird, I hadn't spoken to him a while.

"Hey Ryan!"

"Hey Jenna. What are you up to? We haven't talked in a long time and I just wanted to check in."

"I'm great. Started a new school year so things have been busy... but it's settling down now."

"Sounds great. Things are good with me. The job is going great and still enjoy the city. The reason I'm calling is that I have this crazy idea to go to Carthage this weekend. I feel the need to go to a great tailgate. You're on the way, and I was wondering if you wanted to come along."

Ryan and I went to a big football school in the SEC. Our team was undefeated so far and stood a solid chance of going to the national championship game. Ah, a weekend in Carthage may be just the thing for me.

"I'd love to. Now that I think of it, I need a great tailgate too. When were you thinking of leaving?"

"In a few hours. I haven't packed or anything. This is really a spur of the moment idea. At work today I was somehow able to get a hotel room and decided to go for it. How about I pick you up at your place at 7?"

"Sounds perfect, I'll be ready. "

*****

A few hours later Ryan and I were headed down the highway to Carthage. It was so exciting, because my weekend went from sounding boring to amazing. We chatted about what we had been up to in the years since school. Sure, we had seen each other, but there is something about a three hour road trip that really brings out the gossip. I learned all about his love life. It turns out that he was quasi dating some new girl from his work, but she couldn't make the trip this weekend. This was slightly awkward, because Ryan and I had hooked up a lot in college. It had been years since anything had happened, and I thought his call might have been a signal he was interested in reigniting something. After our conversation, however, it didn't seem that was the case at all. Another letdown.

*****

The next morning—after a very uneventful night at the hotel—Ryan and I went to an alumni tailgate near the stadium. It was a 3:30 game, so everyone was naturally tailgating by 10am. And whoa, what a beautiful morning! It was the classic fall day. I was wearing my strapless, tight sundress (not too summer-y) that flairs at the skirt and shows off my cleavage and curves. It comes down just above my knees. It was perfect in the cool, but not too cold, fall weather.

But the big buzzkill of the morning was the crowd; it wasn't doing it for me. The only people I knew were a bunch of condescending a-holes I barely remembered.

"Wow Jenna, I don't think I've ever seen you this sober at a tailgate."

After a while, these comments piled up and I was getting annoyed. Sure, I partied hard in college and had my fair share of flings, but people who I didn't know didn't need to be bringing that up. It was so frustrating! Ryan finally picked up on my annoyance and suggested we change locations to his old frat house. That sounded perfect.

*****

We walked the two blocks to Ryan's old frat, and it brought back so many memories. The white-columned building with the greek letters hanging above the door had been the source of so many great memories in college. Late night dance parties, general drunkenness, and fantastic hookups. UH, I had really torn through the freshmen pledge class my sophomore year. Maybe that was the source of some of those douche alums giving me crap earlier. Oh well, I had a great time in my four years here. No regrets.

And this party was so much more fun. There was an awesome band playing. There was a fun mix of young alums and current students chatting it up. Tables full of drinks and drinking games. Couches to lounge on.

At about 11:30, Ryan asked me if I wanted to go inside and check out some of the pregame shows for the games that day. Sure. So we headed inside to Ryan's old room. And when we got there I realized some things never change. There was an old futon, posters, and beer cans that could have been there when Ryan lived there. The biggest difference was the TV. It was huge and amazing.

We sat down on the futon and settled in watching the various shows predicting who would win and what players would be difference-makers. I know that I'm a girl and am not supposed to know or care about this stuff, but I do!

A few minutes later a young guy walked in with a coat and tie on asking if we wanted any Hooch. This was obviously a pledge.

"Yes, double, double Hooch on the double!" Ryan ordered.

The kid quickly turned and walked away on a mission. To the uninitiated, that meant two double-sized drinks needed in a hurry. A few minutes later Ryan and I had two huge goblets (individual pitchers?) full of Hooch. Also for the uninformed, Hooch was a classic drink at Ryan's frat. Old alums remembered having it at their parties. Mmm. What was in this stuff? God knows. The recipe may not have changed in a hundred years. There were so many flavors you could barely tell there was alcohol in it. A lot of girls stayed away from it, because of the absurd amount of alcohol in it. But for those who went for it, we always ended having a great gameday.

*****

About an hour later—and another order of Hooch—Ryan and I were laughing hysterically remembering the good ole times. We weren't alone though. People came and went in the old frat room, watching TV, and having some drinks. At about 12:30, another one of our rival's games came on. When that game started the room really filled up. Eventually, it was standing room only. Ryan left to go use the restroom and I was left to chat it up with the people around me. No worries. I was feeling a really good buzz and the social lubricant effect of the Hooch was really kickin in. It was actually more than a buzz, I was probably drunk.

A few minutes later a really cute guy sat next to some girl with whom I was speaking. It was her boyfriend Chris. Chris was a sophomore swimmer and DAMN his body showed it. Tall and muscular, but still lean. We chatted it up and played the name game to show that I actually knew some of the people here.

"Oh, there's my roommate Mike," Chris said.

*****

FUCK

Standing before me was Mike Chisolm, one of my former students. He was a senior my first year of teaching, and I didn't know him very well. I didn't even know he ended up coming to school here, let alone joining the frat where I knew (slash fucked) a lot of people. And here I was sitting on his futon drinking my third goblet of Hooch and starting to get drunk.

"Ms. Thomas?" Mike muttered with a shocked look on his face.

"Well good morning Mike," was all I could muster. I tried to act as straight as possible, but I knew that no matter how much talking I did I couldn't get out of this.

"Do y'all know each other?" some voice called out—who it was, I didn't care at the moment.

"We certainly do," was all I could summon.

For some reason, the words emerging from my mouth were tinged in the high sexuality of my feelings. I certainly remembered Mike. If I was the hot teacher that every student wanted to fuck, then Mike was the hot young stud that every teacher wanted to ravish. He was gorgeous. Tall. Thin. Muscular. Crazy smart. Great personality. Leader. And a swimmer if I remember.

He was only two years out of high school, and here he was standing in front of me in his own room looking amazing. My defenses melted down and I envisioned myself riding his cock. AH. The thought of riding some random—NO, not random—but riding a FORBIDDEN cock seemed so tantalizing!

Wasn't that against the law? Surely no. He wasn't my student any more. He was 19 or 20 years old—definitely age of majority—and that surely meant it was fine. He hadn't been my student for several years and there was no position of authority.

Keep justifying it to yourself you slut...

*****

"Oh, we've known each other for a little while," he said. I think he was trying to deflate the situation, which was sweet, but the cat was certainly out of the bag.

"Ms. Thomas..."

"Jenna, you know to call me Jenna," was all I could cut him off with to diminish the embarrassment I was feeling.

"Of course," he said. "I'm really glad you made it to the house this weekend. We really have a fun few days lined up."

"I'm sure you do."

It's the only thing I could say. I was too stunned for words. My brain was trying to catch up from the situation currently in front of me: On one level, I was just a gal in a building on campus that could leave at any moment and nothing would be said. On the other hand, however, here I was, drunk, in a semi-risqué dress on the futon of a former student!

I decided a retreat may be needed, so I stood up and walked out of the room. "I'm gonna go look for my friend."

If you're sitting and drinking for a long time the effects don't really hit you, right? Well, as soon as I had taken two steps the full effects of the alcohol slammed my brain. I wobbled a little on my feet, nothing too bad. I paced through all the hallways, the dining room, the outside, and I still couldn't find Ryan. Did that asshole leave me here? No way, he totally subscribed to the wingman theory and wouldn't leave a girl behind.

None the less, I couldn't find him. Knowing nowhere else to go, I decided to go to the last place where he'd seen me: Mike's room. When I came back some of the faces had changed by they were largely the same. Another problem was that there were no seats. Before I knew it Mike was yelling, "Pledge, give me some more Hooch! And Jenna, if you want to you can sit on the armrest right here. Someone will probably be getting up in a few minutes."

I considered the proposal and decided that it was the only real choice I had. I slowly eased my ass down on the cold, iron, circular armrest that seems standard on these futons. Instantly, the physical discomfort of the position hit me. Damn, this wasn't going to work. "Just focus on the game on the TV and wait for Ryan," I told myself.

The one positive thing that happened at that moment was that the pledge reentered with some Hooch and handed it straight to me. Oh, I guess Mike had ordered it for me. I was glad of it and also a little afraid. This had been, what, my fourth goblet? That's a lot and probably needed to slow down. Oh, well. Fuck it.

After about ten minutes my constant shifting and squirming on that armrest must have been both obvious and awkward. Mike put his arm around my waist and told me that I could scoot down and sit on his lap. That slight touch was electric, so I didn't hesitate. Immediately, I shifted my ass and sat on the edge of his legs. I kept telling myself that I still needed to be proper: sit straight, legs crossed, and don't slip down too close to him.

*****

It immediately became apparent, however, that this was an incredible turn on. The room was filled with so many conversations that I had to constantly shift and turn to either answer questions or look at who was talking. With each movement, my pussy was slipping, sliding, shifting, or swiveling its way to getting really wet! There was nothing I could do.

Mike definitely sensed this. Every so often, he'd put both hands on my waist and ask me to get up for a second while he shook his legs to get some blood flow. Those moments where I wasn't in direct contact with him seemed agonizing, because by this point the heat between my legs was beginning to take total control.

Shit! Was that the Hooch talking? I have no idea. My mind was getting pretty foggy with the insatiable lust coursing through my body at the moment. Sure, he was a former student, and that's probably what really made me really wet.

One other result of Mike's leg shifts was that I'd slip a little further down his lap each time. I had started this whole thing barely clinging to his knee, but after only a few minutes I was half way down his leg. My back would certainly touch his chest if I leaned back a little.

So that's what I did, I just leaned back and put my back into his chest. Ah, this was so much more comfortable! There wasn't any more tension in my back and it took a little pressure off my ass. It was perfect. Mike head could look right over my left shoulder and see everyone in the room just fine.

Something else Mike could now see was my overflowing cleavage. His face was now only inches away with a bird's eye view. My dress was strapless and very low cut, and the way I was hunched it really pushed the girls up and made them appear to be bubbling out of my dress. I could tell his eyes were glued to them.

Knowing his imagination was running amok thinking about my tits, it was making me positively boil. But there was something missing. That's when I realized I actually missed pressuring all my weight through my sex into his body. Just like creating a diamond, that shifting, but constant, pressure had formed the beginning of an orgasm deep within me. And now it was absent.

To compensate, I began sliding down his leg while still leaning back. When I got too low, I'd pull myself back up. To anyone watching, it just looked like I was just shifting every now and then, but to Mike and I it was a dry hump, albeit on a more geologic timetable.

*****

After several minutes of the relatively tame grinding, I pulled my "readjustment" move. This time, however, Mike also repositioned himself, so when I sat back down on his lap I for the first time felt his hard cock running down his leg. It must have been tucked away somewhere before this. It formed a beautiful ridgeline down his leg, and I put my ass right on top of it. Even through my dress and his pants were in the way, I could feel it's subtleties as I started my next slide down.

I was lost in it now. My inhibitions were quickly leaving me. I had no awareness of the people or things around me anymore. I only registered Mike's stimuli. His cock sliding in between my legs. His hand slowly massaging my hip and working down to my ass. His hot breath hitting me where my neck meets my shoulder and flowing down to my tits.

All of a sudden everyone in the room stood up and cheered. It turns out everyone else really was watching the game. Our bitter rival had thrown a pick 6 to lose the game. Joy abounds. As Mike and I stood up to seem a part of the group, we gave each other a knowing look that this train he left the station and there wasn't anything that was going to stop it.

For some reason, people began talking to Mike and cutting him off from me. Fuck! What were these people doing? Wasn't this obvious? Kids these days must be completely oblivious to the cockblock. I got a little hissy and decided now would be a good time to go to the bathroom.

The ladies' room was just down the hall and I settled down in my stall to pee. I had drunk a ton and I suppose this was long overdue, so it took a while. While I was in there, I could overhear to two girls standing at the sinks gossiping away.

"Oh my, did you see that girl sitting on Mike's lap? She was giving him an open invite."

Bitch.

"Be quiet. She didn't have anywhere else to sit. I actually thought she was really pretty."

Clever girl, and she must not have picked up on my slow-slide dry fuck.

As I stood up to pull my thong up, I said fuck it and stepped out of it. If I'm going to do this, I'm going to do this right. When I picked it up I was glad I took it off. They were saturated with my juices so they were already going to be a liability. But where can I put them? I don't have my bag with me... I never take than along on gameday. It's just one more thing to lose. Trash can it is. Those weren't that expensive anyway.

*****

Reentering Mike's room filled me with a sense of anticipation I hadn't felt in such a long time. Being a little conservative teacher for so long had really suppressed the animal instincts I had cultivated in this very house. Now that I was back, it seemed those impulses returned.

Rather than even attempt to find another seat, I sat right back down on Mike's lap. No one really had a surprised look about this, because everyone seemed to be sitting in more or less the same seats. The person who did have the surprised look on his face was Mike, because when I sat down I positioned my skirt so that my bare ass and pussy were sitting right on his crotch. I couldn't be sure, but in that instantaneous moment of my skirt falling back down to rest he could have seen my wet sex descending down to him.