My Son's Bbw Teacher

Spring had finally arrived in Upstate New York, the smells of new life and new beginnings filled the air. It was a long, hard, cold winter, and I had packed on some pounds, weight I was now trying to lose as I walked through the park. My music was playing loudly, so I couldn't hear the remarks some made. I smiled several ties, acknowledging the other walkers and the familiar faces of neighbors.

It was after noon, the lunch crowd was making their way back to work, as I spotted her. Her, my son's technology teacher, was sitting at one of the picnic tables the park personnel had returned, her lunch spread out. She saw me, signaling for me to join her. I respectfully turned off my music as I walked towards her.

"Hello Mr. De Roche," she said as she stood, offering a hug.

"Please, call me Joe," I said as I gave her a tight squeeze. She held on a little longer than she had when we embraced in school. I felt her lips brush gently against my cheek as she backed away and sat.

"Then call me Anne," she returned as I sat, opening my water bottle. "Care to have some fries?"

"No thanks, I just ate." It was a lie, and I did want some food, but it could wait. I wanted to talk with her, not eat her food.

"So, what brings you up here?" she asked before putting a dainty handful of fries into her mouth.

"I walk now, everyday. I need to lose the winter weight." She swallowed and smiled. "I gained too much this winter," I added.

"And it looks good on you," she said, her smile broader. There was something in her eyes, a twinkle, that made me blush. I looked away, but she placed her hand on my shoulder.

"It does look good on you," she repeated, her eyes looking deeply into mine. For a moment, we were both speechless. I was unable to think straight, unable to comprehend what she had meant. Many ideas then flashed into my head. Does she mean she likes me better? Does she mean she wants me?

"Thank you," I answered weakly, breaking the seemingly long silence. She, too, came back. She turned away and went back to lunch. She took a big bite of her sandwich.

"I never knew you had lunch up here," I said in an effort to make some conversation. "I've seen other teachers up here for lunch and for walks."

"Yes, some have commented on that. That's why I'm here." That comment made me blush. She had to have noticed, for her smile, always warm and inviting, turned into something naughty. She reached for her drink and seductively took the straw into her mouth.

I looked at my watch, trying to avoid staring at that action. It was, to me, as if she was trying to make me blush, see how uncomfortable I could be around her. Again, she smiled and the twinkle had returned.

"Do you have to be anywhere?" she asked as I looked at my watch again.

"No," I answered, my voice cracking. Her wicked smile told me she knew she had me. I tried to look away, tried not to give away that she was exciting me. But, my body was telling another story. Her eyes gazed down, and as she smirked, she squirmed slightly.

"My, oh my," she softly whispered as she turned away, her sandwich in her hand. I turned away, looking out onto the pond, and thought of ways to calmly and politely excuse myself from this conversation. I didn't want to, really, but I felt that it would be best. She was my son's teacher after all.

"How much do you walk?" she asked, sensing that we needed a definite topic change. I welcomed it greatly.

"Most days, I walk about two miles, maybe three. It all depends on how much I'm motivated, and how much time I've spent on the computer." As soon as I said the latter information, I knew I had opened another can of worms.

"Computer, huh?" she asked, an eyebrow raised. A little smirk came to her face as she took a sip from the straw.

"Yes, I play a lot of games on the computer, on the free games sites on the web." This was a safe answer.

"Anything else?" she smiled. "I dabble in some short stories," I let out. Anne smiled and sat straight; I had her full attention.

"What genres are your stories in?"

"Mostly action/adventure, some are in romance, some are for kids." I began to smile as she looked intently into my eyes again, deeply, as if she was searching for something in my soul. Perhaps she was looking to see if I was lying about my writing, trying to find a tell; I knew she'd find none.

"Are you published?" She looked away after asking, as if she didn't want to know the total truth, or would take me at face value.

"Not since I was in college." It was true: I hadn't been published in a magazine since my freshman year in college. Then again, I haven't submitted anything since then.

"Do you have a website where I could sample some of your stories?"

"Yes," I said as I pulled out my ever-present small notebook and pen. I quickly wrote it down and handed it to her. Anne looked and smiled.

"I'll check it out when I get back to school," she said as she collected the remains of her lunch. She stood, as did I. We hugged, a hug that was tight and long. As she broke the embrace, she kissed my cheek and held onto my hand as she walked away. I stood speechless as I watched her walk to her car. She waved and smiled as she got in. I put on my headphones, turned up the sound, and walked as she drove away, knowing that she would not look at the site.

I had an hour before my son was due home as I sat at my computer desk. When I was finally online, I was informed I had several e-mails. I clicked on my mail, and saw it, shocking me to no end. Anne had sent me a letter. I quickly opened it, read it, and sat more shocked than before.

She had read several of the stories I had posted, several of the less than G-rated ones. I smiled as she wrote that she thoroughly enjoyed them, printed out several of them to enjoy later, when she was not in school. She went on to tell me that I have a gift; I can transport the reader right into the situation.

I wrote her back, thanking her for her kind remarks, and informed her that I have many more stories, more that I share with those that are informed of their true nature. I clicked on the next e-mail she had sent, and was astonished.

I sat for a few moments, stunned, unable to think correctly. I have known Anne Strickland for five years, ever since she came to my son's school to teacher technology, teach the children how to use computers and software. In the past, her dealings with me had always been on a professional, teacher/father level. She has called me in to the school to discuss my son's attitude towards some of the work - he thinks he's too smart to be taught slowly. She has also been very demure, very shy with her body at the end of the year school picnics. But not now, not this e-mail.

I was stunned, this prim woman, one that never showed cleavage in public, had sent me several pictures. The first ones were tame, her in t-shirts, stretch pants, and smiles. In the next three were of Anne from the waist up, wearing a cleavage showing blouse. She looked very comfortable, as if she loved showing off her ample chest. Following that, the next picture made me look twice.

She was on her bed, on her stomach, looking at the camera. She was pushed up, her breasts would have been showing if she did not conveniently have them covered by large pillows. As I scrolled down further, I had to look twice. I could not believe it. There, on my computer, were two photos of Miss Anne Strickland, standing, smiling, without any clothing.

She was fabulous! She was fantastic! And she was completely naked! The first photo showed her standing straight, looking directly into the camera, and smiling confidently. Her hands were on her hips, exposing her chest, her breasts, to me. Her nipples were hard and to me, stupendous. Her belly, something I had always found sensual, was white and large. It hung down, hiding her most intimate place. Her hips were large. God, I was taken with her.

The second picture was of her standing up, again, her back to the camera, her head looking over her right shoulder. Her behind, her ass, wide and large, showing. I love large asses, always have since I could remember. I was excited, she had turned me on!

I hit reply, ready to write her about my excitement, when she sent me a third letter. I opened it quickly, wanting to know her thoughts. It was a simple, short letter, telling me that she was leaving for home and could not answer any e-mails until the next day: she had no home computer. Crestfallen, since I wanted to keep up the e-mail tag, I wrote her, thanking her for the pictures and would go into more detail in the morning, once my son was in school. I turned off my computer, headed to the porch to check for my son, and hopefully try to calm my excitement.

Friday mornings in my house are wonderful. Everyone's out early, and the best thing is that I didn't have to make any lunches! I slept in some, awaking at 9. I leisurely strolled around the house before making a serious attempt at writing. I needed to finish some shorts so I could earn money; needed to pay some credit cards.

I sat and turned on the computer, firing up the word processing software, and reread what I've had written. I wasn't pleased with what I had, so I began to delete. I had everything, all the previous week's work ready to be deleted when an e-mail popped up. It was from Anne.

I smiled and quickly clicked it open. There was just a quick note, along with a picture of her smiling face, thanking me for all my comments on her pictures. She wasn't sure she should have sent them, but took the chance, hoping that I would like to see her body. I replied, telling her that I found her very sexy, and would love to show her how much I did. I sent it out and returned to my work; I did not delete any of my work.

I laughed as I thought of how she'd react to my comments: show her. I shook my head, expecting to receive a nasty letter in return, telling me that I'm a pervert, and that I should never send her anything ever. I turned up my ever-present music and went to writing.

I didn't get far into the story when her reply came. With great trepidation, I opened the e-mail. My fears became unfounded when I read the first three words, the only words: Show me Tomorrow! Again, she had me speechless, had me unable to think straight. I hit reply and stared at the blinking cursor. I couldn't think of an answer.

An old saying came to me; nothing ventured, nothing gained. I wrote back, told her I'd love to meet her to show her. Since I was left alone on Saturdays - my family went to the in-laws' country home, giving me a day alone to write or relax - I could easily meet her for lunch, then we could discuss the effect she has on me. I sent it off and waited. Her response was almost immediate: she messaged me.

"Darling, noon, at the mall food court," she told me. She ended the message with a kiss and a goodbye: she was still at school and her students were coming in to class. My heart was pounding, I was excited. I have a date with her!

I was too excited, I couldn't think straight. I couldn't write, nothing was coming to me. As I clicked off the word processor and turned on a free internet game site, Anne messaged me again.

"And be ready for anything." That did it. I told her goodbye, turned off the computer, and walked up to the bathroom. If I was going to get anything accomplished today, I'd have to cool off.

Boy, my shower can pump out great quantities of ice cold water!!

By 11 Saturday, my son and wife had been long gone, and I was left to my own devices. I had showered, shaved, cleaned up some around the house, and listened to music. I was nervous with anticipation. Though I've meet Anne Strickland several times over the years, mostly to discuss my son's education and have talked with her at end-of-the-year picnics, this was different, completely different.

I knew it was wrong, wrong for both of us. For me it was that I'm married. For her, she is a teacher, my son's teacher. If we were to be caught, she could lose her job, immediately. Perhaps those were the reasons why I felt more excited than I should feel.

I've met other women before, moms from the school, women from my writing groups, old girlfriends. Though much never happened - something always came up - I was never nervous. It was just a time to meet someone and have a meal. But this was different, this could lead to something more than just food and good conversation.

I looked at my watch; it was time for me to leave. I walked out the door, locked it, and continued to my car. My palms were wet, my brow was sweating, and my heart was racing. I was beginning to feel as if I was going to meet my first date, ever! I am 41-years-old, I am TOO old to feel like this. I entered the car, put the key in the ignition, turned over the engine, and cranked the stereo.

"Get a grip," I whispered to myself before throwing the car into reserve and headed out of the driveway.

The drive to the mall should take five minutes. Today it took less, but God, it felt so much longer. I found a spot close to the food court entrance, turned off the car, and waited a moment to exit. I used this to gather my thoughts, calm my nerves.

Since the day before, when she messaged that she wanted to meet, I hadn't thought much of what MIGHT happen between us, but what could happen if we were caught. I smiled as I finally thought of what Anne and I could do together, if our meeting went well. I grabbed the keys, exited, and walked - strutted - to the mall.

I saw her almost immediately, her smile almost beckoning me to her. I smiled and my pace quickened. She stood, and I held out my arms. She closed inside and hugged me. Her body was soft, the way I liked it. She held onto the embrace long before kissing my chest. That action shocked me, and I inhaled.

"Did you like that?" she asked as she sat. I joined her, taking the nearest chair. She put a hand on my leg, one in my hand, and looked into my eyes, deeply, as if searching for something.

"God, yes," I whispered as she squeezed my hand. I looked down at my face, not wanting to show Anne the lust I had in my eyes. Because if I did, I felt that I would scare her.

"So did I," she whispered back. My stomach was flipping, I was feeling like a teenager again. Excitement coursed through my body, and I know it was showing in my face and especially my eyes. She let go of my hand and reached for her drink. She had a wicked smile on her face: she saw my lust.

I looked into her face, swallowed hard, and breathed in deeply. I searched for the right words, the correct sentences, to say, to convey exactly how I was feeling, what I wanted to do. I opened my mouth, having thought of the words, when she turned to me, put her index finger on my lips, and spoke.

"Before you say anything, let me get this off my chest. For years I've been watching you, wanting to learn more about you. Because you are someone's dad, I couldn't approach you, not at all. I've seen you almost every day, picking him up from school, seeing you, talking with you.

"I didn't have a crush on you, per se. No, I knew I couldn't. You were totally unattainable. I knew I could never be with you. But that changed when I stumbled across some of your stories."

"Which stories?" I interrupted. I had a feeling which ones she was referring to, but I wanted to make sure.

"You know which ones, sill," she answered quickly. She smiled and continued. "I wasn't looking for anything in particular one night. I was bored, awake, and looking for something to put me to sleep. I was told about Literotica.com by another teacher. She said it was a great place to blow off steam late at night.

"I was scanning through some of the new stories and came across 'My BBW Roommates'. I clicked it open, read just a few paragraphs, and was hooked. God, it was well written. It was like I was transported into the story. All the imagery, all the scenes, all sounded so true." She took a deep breath and swallowed hard. She looked around the food court, looking as if she wouldn't find anyone that knew her. When she was satisfied, she leaned in close.

"I hate to admit this, but I was totally turned on by it. I mean, I was moist. I had to take care of myself. You write very well, and God, you know what turns on women." She was blushing, but she managed to look into my eyes.

"I want you!" Three words, three words spoken softly, quickly, and without warning. I was speechless, Anne sat calmly, sipping on her soft drink, waiting for my answer. I had to think, had to come up with something that was right, that didn't sound desperate.

"God, I want you!" That's all that popped into my mind. It was appropriate, it was succinct, and it was how I felt. "I've wanted you since the first day I saw you!"

Anne sat, her smile broad, her face red. I think I embarrassed her. Though she grabbed and held my hand tightly, she looked away. It was a few moments before she turned back and looked at me.

"What do we do now?" she whispered. She tightened her hold on my hand and looked deeply in my eyes.

"We could go someplace to talk," I suggested.

"Sounds good to me. But where?" She took another sip of her drink.

"Well, we could drive to the park, and talk there," I said as I stood. I was thirsty, I wanted something to drink. She stood and wrapped her arm inside of mine. As we walked to the nearest food shop, she laid her head on my arm.

It was a quick drive to the park. We found places to leave our cars and walked to a secluded spot, both so we could not be disturbed and not be seen. She had a blanket for us to sit on, and I helped her down. I sat and we stared at each other, neither one of us not knowing what to say.

"So," she said, breaking the ice. "What would you like to talk about?" I thought for a moment, then something came to me.

"Kiss me," I said, flatly and directly. Her eyes widened: she had the deer in the headlights look. I was about to apologize when she moved to me, closing them eyes. I reached down and met her.

Anne moaned as our lips met. She was soft and moist. I pushed harder against them, she responded by opening slightly. Her tongue came out, searching for mine. I met it, and we danced. She placed her hands on my shoulders and pushed me. She laid on top, our kiss never ending.

"Excuse me," an authoritative male voice said. Startled, we unlocked our lips and looked to the source. It was a police officer. We stood and straightened out what little clothes were wrinkled. "You two are old enough to get a room," he added as he walked away. We looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"Yeah, he's right," she said as she bent to fold up the blanket. I laughed and agreed.

"Where can we go?" I asked as we walked to our cars.

"My place," she answered quickly. I stopped and looked at her.

"Really?"

"Yes," she whispered seductively as she pulled me tight. She ran a finger up my shirt and tickled my chin. "I want you."

I followed her, and it was a long drive, well at least it seemed so. My watch said only 10 minutes from the park, but it could have been 10 hours. That's how much I was excited. I couldn't wait, I didn't want to wait. We arrived at her apartment, and we parked the cars. She rushed ahead to open the door. I followed at a slower pace, letting her set everything up. I walked in, and she closed the door behind me. She was naked!

"How do you like it?" Anne asked as she turned slowly, letting me drink in all her beauty.

"God, yes!!" I rushed to her and took her not so gently into my arms. Our embrace was passionate, long overdue. Her lips were still hot, still wet. My hands traveled over her body, feeling those soft curves, that soft skin that has made me hide my 'show of affection' for years whenever I saw her. She pushed herself closer to me as my hand grabbed her ass.