Following a number of incidents of sexual harassment at Biddlecomb High, the principal Lorne Smith decided that he would file a request for someone to conduct sex education classes. The young lady hired by the authorities to do the job exuded sexuality herself. She was slender, petite, had flaming red hair and hypnotic green eyes.
When she called into his office for a brief orientation, he became so intoxicated by her subtle perfume and sensual voice that he forgot to ask how she went about teaching her subject, or when she intended to start. Even her name, Dixie Louviere, had an erotic ring to it. After she'd gone, he couldn't seem to stop himself repeating it -- over and over again in his head.
She reported to him on the first day of school, wearing a very fetching nurse's uniform with a particularly short skirt. As she outlined her program, occasionally touching her body to illustrate some point she was trying to make, he became quite flustered. After she'd finished her little presentation, he began to babble on about things that had no relevance to the classes she was about to supervise.
"I don't have a lot of sexual experience myself," he told her, "I'm a little shy with women."
"That's too bad -- you're a very good looking man -- I'd even venture to say quite sexy."
Lorne went a little red in the face and very coyly explained that he'd never been able to satisfy a woman, "I have no technique," he said, "especially when it comes to foreplay."
"Have you ever asked a woman what she wants?"
"How do you mean?"
"Well -- where she likes to be touched and whether she likes it gentle or a little bit rough."
"Oh no," he mumbled, "I could never do that."
"Why don't we do a little role playing?" she suggested. "You tell me where you like to be touched."
The man, who had been the keynote speaker at a number of educational conferences, was dumbstruck. He shrugged and rolled his eyes, eventually managing to squeak out, "just here," as he pointed to his crotch.
Dixie moved around the desk, leaned over and rubbed the bulge that was pressing against his zipper, "Here?" she inquired softly.
Lorne didn't say anything, as the lump in his throat was almost as big as the one in his pants. He just nodded his head.
"Now here is what I want you to do," she said, quite firmly. "I would like you to take off your pants and sit on the desk -- I will lock the door."
His heart was beating a mile a minute as he started to remove them. And watching her tight little bum sashay across the room, he lost all his sense of dignity. His brain refused to think about what would happen if word of this got out to the school governors.
Lorne sat on the desk as instructed but he didn't remove his polka-dotted boxer shorts. With his boner sticking up it looked like he was holding a Barbie tent on his lap.
"Come on silly -- don't be shy -- slip off your sexy underwear," she giggled.
Very reluctantly, he shed his unmentionables to reveal a large erect cock that no man would be ashamed of.
"Now," she said, moving in closer, "I'm going to touch you where you said you liked to be touched -- do you want me to be rough or gentle?"
"Gentle please," he croaked as if his mouth was drying up.
Dixie reached into the pocket of her nurse's uniform and produced a small tube.
"This is a terrific lubricant and it smells good," she said, removing the cap and inhaling deeply. "I'm going to rub some on your penis and it's going to feel heavenly."
