Teacher Coaches Coach

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"...And quiet was the wind that blew the trees," she recited the poem sitting before her class, her legs crossed, the hem of her skirt resting just above her knees. "and still was the water that filled the seas," she continued as she uncrossed her legs and switched their positions, too quickly for her male students to catch a glimpse of the space between her legs. Their imaginations and the images that she provoked in them kept them from ever concentrating on her recitations of boring poetry. She ignored the stares, though she was secretly flattered by the attention.

"Silly little boys," she thought as she rattled off a poem she memorized years ago in college.

It was her third year as an English teacher at Stonybrook High. She had moved here with her husband who was a local lawyer after they married. They met while he was a law student and she was a grad student. They immediately moved to Landon so he could join his father's law firm. Her father-in-law greased the wheels to get her into the school system that was hard to land a job in. She enjoyed her life for the most part: a good husband with a good job, a great career in one of the state's best school systems, and a beautiful house in an exclusive neighborhood. Life was good...for the most part.

"The sun burned hot on that summer day..."she was interrupted by the loud bell calling for the end of the school day. "Read 'The Raven' before Monday," she called out to her students who were hustling out the door.

She strolled with her book to the back of her classroom towards her desk. The classroom's sudden silence was a stunning contrast to the bustling of teenagers that had occurred just two minutes prior. An occasional slam of a locker down the hall was the only thing that broke it, but quickly, her little corner of Stonybrook High was silent again.

As she organized the things on her desk, she thought of the "silly little boys" trying to catch a glimpse of her silky panties. She smiled to herself. She stood up straight and turned to look at the mirror she had on the wall beside her desk. She admired her reflection. She was only 5'3", but with her three-inch black heels, she felt a lot taller. She wore black stockings that reached under her favorite black skirt that reached just above her knees, held up by a garter that no one knew she wore except her husband, who delighted watching her prepare for work. She topped it all off with a comfortable white blouse that covered her breasts, themselves covered by a silk tan bra that matched her panties. She worked out at their home gym religiously, and though she was 28 and getting older, she was pretty happy with her shape. She had only gained twelve pounds since college, and was comfortable at 134 pounds. Her 24 inch waist and C-Cup breasts kept her feeling desirable.

That was important, especially since Sid took the Blackman case to trial. The personal injury case took of a lot of her husband's time and all too often left her alone in the evenings to manage her desires. The absence of her husband's touch motivated her to go to a town thirty minutes away to a store that specializes in sex toys. She shopped the store's selection of vibrators and settled for one that was twelve inches long. It was thick as well. She remembered paying the cashier in cash so as to not leave a trail her husband could pick up. She couldn't contain herself and halfway through the drive home, she opened the box with a free hand and pushed the vibrating tool under her skirt and enjoyed its functions while people in passing cars wondered what was making the beautiful woman in the forest green Infinity smile so broadly. She hid it deep in her closet so her husband couldn't find it.

She didn't know what he would think. The fact was, it was significantly larger than her meager Sid's penis. She loved Sid, but his five inches hardly made her swoon. She'd had sex with four guys in college, and Sid was the smallest. The fact was none of the guys she was with was terribly large. Earl Franklin stretched to almost seven inches, but that was her max. She'd never had any bigger. "Oh well. My ship has already sailed. I'll have to depend on the jackhammer for the rest of my life." She giggled at her toy's nickname.

"Are you modeling Heather," a booming male voice asked her from across her classroom. It was Coach Peter Masterson. She was startled and a little embarrassed. He had caught her holding her stomach and then smoothing out her skirt as she thought about getting home to her toy.

"Hey Pete. No, just trying to smooth out my skirt," she replied. "What can I help you with?"

"It's Reginald Larson. We need to talk about his grades," he answered.

"Pete, we went over this. The kid can barely read. We can't keep letting him slide. It's not my fault he can't play," she said sternly.

"Damn it Heather. Football's all this kid's got," he said as he walked towards the back of the classroom towards her.

"Well, I just think that's sad Pete. I mean, what if he gets injured? Then what?" She was getting perturbed.

"Not all of us have rich husbands to buy us fancy cars," he said under his breath.

"What the hell did you just say?" Heather face was instantly flushed.

"You heard me," he raised his voice higher than hers.

"Damn you Pete!" She was flabbergasted at his audacity. Anger inside her grew to a boil. As if she was standing beside herself watching it all unfold, her right hand reached out to smack him. Just as it was meeting its target, Pete's right hand caught it at the wrist and the force of his block turned her completely around. He reached around her and held both of her hands at her stomach and pressed his body against her back. He pulled her body to him and lifted her off the ground.

Heather was furious and began flailing and attempting to kick back at Pete's shins. As she did so, Pete tried to calm her down. As her right hand came free, he chased it with his. His hand landed directly on her right breast. Heather's right hand grabbed the back of his head, trying to scratch it and inadvertently pushed his nose into her right ear. She got her left hand free and tried to reach back at anything. His hand came down and now rested on her left thigh, his pinky below the hem of her skirt, touching her stocking.

There was an instant of realization for Heather as she became cognizant of Coach Masterson's hands on her body, one on her breast, one on her thigh. His nose was breathing heavily into her right ear as his mouth was pressed against the right rear of her neck. The heat of his hands against her body and his breath against her skin made her shudder. The warmth that started while she was thinking about her toy back home became a heat between her legs. Heather's left hand continued to reach back at Pete and found his growing cock, which thrusted forward trying to gain control of her.

Pete felt her hand and quickly exhaled onto her neck. Her hand on his dick caused him to squeeze her breast harder, feeling the padding of her bra under the white silk blouse. His mouth went to her right earlobe and began to nibble on it. His left hand reached to the front of her skirt and began rubbing her pussy over the skirt.

Heather moaned, "Damn you Pete," and began to massage his dick that was now growing. She marveled at his size. She had calmed her flailing and was now rubbing methodically over the front of his slacks.

Pete was now consumed by animal instinct. He leaned forward and reached under Heather's skirt with his left hand. His left hand darted straight to her silk panties and began stroking her puffy lips through the material. His right pulled the skirt up until it was above her waistline. They both looked in the mirror to their right. Heather's mouth opened in awe of what was happening. She turned around inserted her tongue in a very wet passionate kiss, her skirt still above her waist, her hands pulling his penis towards her soaked silk panties.

Outside her open door, they heard a locker slam. Heather pulled away from him instantly. Thinking that was the end, Pete was surprised when Heather walked between the desks and closed and locked her classroom door. She turned off the lights, leaving the room lit only by the hallway light falling through the door window. Peter stood shocked.

Heather turned to him and looked like a woman possessed. She took two steps toward him and then stopped. She zipped the zipper on the right side of her skirt down and stepped forward out of it. The light coming through the door window allowed him to see the white silk blouse fall down, covering just above the point where her garter linked to her stockings. She took three more steps toward him and reached both hands under the bottom of her blouse and hooked onto her panties and pulled them down. The bottom of her blouse never let him see the treasure below as it fell to cover her.

"You want your star to play? You'll have to earn it. Take off your pants coach!" He did exactly as she said, kicking off his shoes as he hurried his pants and underwear off. Pete Masterson was standing half-nude in Mrs. Padgett's classroom in stunned silence, wearing only his coach's polo shirt.

Heather was staring intently at Pete's nine-inch monster. It hung low, but was obviously engorged. She went to him and dropped to her knees. With her right hand, she grasped the base of his cock. Pete leaned his head back and stared in disbelief at the ceiling as Heather wrapped her lips around the head of his cock. He let out a low moan as she pushed her warm, moist mouth down on his cock. She let it glide to the back of her throat before pulling back off and repeating the process. Pete looked down at her and he saw the limited light glare from the saliva now covering her chin. His left hand started to reach behind her head against her flowing blonde hair, but she pushed it away with her right arm. He didn't want to push his luck.

The sounds that were coming from her mouth were glorious. He was amazed as the tip of his cock pounded against the back of her throat. Then, a gagging sound occurred for an instant and he felt his cock intrude further into her mouth, down her throat, all by her own actions. Pete couldn't believe innocent English teacher Mrs. Padgett, the wife of a young, rich, up-and-coming local lawyer was sucking his cock.

The truth was Heather couldn't believe it either. A part of her was screaming at herself to stop, but after she felt Coach Masterson's huge cock, she snapped. The part of her that screamed for her to stop was overruled by the part that was enjoying how dirty all of this felt. "Get that chair and sit down coach," she demanded, pointing to a plastic armless classroom chair three feet behind him. She felt so much power over him. It made more fluid spill from her pussy and slide down her thighs. She couldn't believe how wet she was getting.

Pete did as ordered. He ignored the cold feel of plastic against his ass as he plopped down on the seat. His right hand began to stroke his cock, still wet from Heather's expert work. It was harder than ever. The sight he was enjoying only helped matters. Four feet in front of him, Heather was now standing, slowly unbuttoning her blouse. One, two, three the buttons went from the top down. For some inexplicable reason, she stopped at four. She then pulled her arms through the hole at the now-expanded neck and the blouse fell around her waist leaving her standing there in with her bra covering her large, gorgeous tits.

"How bad do you want your boy to play coach," she asked in as sexy a voice as Pete had ever heard.

Pete was now pumping his cock as fast as he could. "Really bad Heather."

"You call me Mrs. Padgett, damn it!" She hissed her demand in an angry whisper.

"Really bad Mrs. Padgett," he answered her as she pulled her right arm under her silk bra strap.

"Are you going to make me cum with your big dick coach?" Her question caused him to exhale in disbelief.

"Uh, mmm, anything you want Mrs. Padgett." She had him under her spell now.

She then pulled her left arm from under the other bra strap. The cups of her bra fell forward and the supports still lay under her heavy breasts, accenting how large and perfect they were. She reached down and pushed her blouse over her hips to the floor. For the first time, he saw her pussy. The lips were puffy and slightly parted. They were glistening with the limited hallway light. Now she was wearing only the bra that hung around her torso.

She stepped toward him and pushed his pumping right hand away from his cock. He was sure that she was going to hop onto his cock, but instead, she straddled his right naked leg. Her left hand reached back and grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked backward, forcing his face up. She began to lick his neck as he gasped aloud. The back of her right hand touched his chest as she began to stroke her right nipple with her palm. She whispered in his ear, "You really want that boy to play, huh?" Then, she lowered her hot wet lips onto his naked thigh.

"Yes, maam," he replied, now a bit scared that he would shoot his load before he got the chance to plunge into her.

"Well, Mrs. Padgett has to cum first and then we'll negotiate," she said in a husky whisper right into his ear. With that, she lifted her right leg over his left thigh and reached down to grab his shaft. She began stroking it and then brought the tip of it to the entrance of her excited pussy.

"Better not come first," she demanded in a teasing whisper as she sat down on his cock. She acted under control the best she could, but knew that she had to take this slow because she had never taken such a large cock. First, she let him enter five inches. Then, she slid another two inches down. Finally, after sufficiently lubing his shaft, she impaled herself on him. The full feeling she had in her orifice was new to her, but she had no plans to lose this game she was playing.

She reached around the back of the chair Pete sat on and began slamming her pussy to the base of his cock. She reached behind his head and brought his mouth to her nipples as she whipped her head back and closed her eyes. Pete began raising his hips and pushing into her, breathing in heavy, uneven breaths. "Oh fuck Heather!" She didn't correct him. She was barely thinking at that point.

"Mmm, fuck me coach. Make me cum. I love that big dick inside of me," she was whispering aloud, still cognizant that this was a school, not a motel room.

Pete Masterson had all he could take. He reached up behind her shoulders and held her tightly as he began slamming her pussy on top of him. The dirty words coming from the otherwise innocent mouth of Heather Padgett, English teacher, turned him on even more. He gritted his teeth and began grunting as he pushed his face against her tits. "Ahh fuck," he screamed out as he pushed inside her for the last time and began splashing his come against the walls of her pussy, gripping his cock with its own urgency.

Heather had just enough hard cock left to bring her to her own grunting climax. She aided it by vigorously stroking her engorged clit. She began to shake and held her breath for what felt like an eternity, until she let out a loud, breathy gasp. Through gritted teeth, the teacher whispered louder than normal speech, "Oh fuck, I love your big cock."

They sat there for two minutes, each physically spent. She was lying over his body, still straddling him. His limp dick slowly slid out of her, causing their combined juices to run down his balls and onto the plastic chair in a small pool.

Mrs. Heather Padgett whispered into Coach Pete Masterson's ear. "Looks like you'll have to come back next week to see if we can get that boy on the field."

"Fair is fair," he responded. "Fair is fair."