This story is a work of fiction, while certain characters or ideas may be loosely related to real people not enough that they or anyone would know, that's why fantasy is fantasy. The theme is a wife and teacher swept into things and pushed into doing things she normally wouldn't do or agree to. It is not non consentual, but it is coerced or at least lightly nudged. If this boundary pushing might offend you you don't have to read it...
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Hi! I can't believe that I'm writing this! My name is Melanie I won't give you my last name, but I'll tell you that it starts with a G and can be hard to pronounce. I've been a teacher for 7 years now! Most of my students call me Mrs. G. I've been fighting a war to keep my job and life for about 6 months now. Let me explain.
When I had interviewed for my teaching job I had gone in for an elementary school teacher for grade 4 or 5. I was 23 and just wanted to deal with younger kids, having just finished college and only having been married for a year I didn't want to be around hormonal boys. I had had enough of that in college. The town had had a sudden opening in grade 12 history, and I had run a dual major in education and history. They hadn't gotten any applicants for that job, but plenty for the elementary job, and they offered me a bonus to take it. So I did.
Now seven years later I'm thirty years old and still teach in the same high school. It's not as bad as I thought it would be and after the first year I kind of got used to it. I've always been proud of my looks, which I thought might get me into trouble dealing with teenagers, but now I downplay it so much that it's never been a factor, or affected my teaching. That is until six months ago. I'll describe myself in a bit, because I know that on a site like this it's important, but let me start by getting into this whole sordid little tale. I'm starting the tale a good six months ago...
I was on my lunch break and walking out by the gymnasiums. There are no classrooms out there, but during busy hallway times it can be easier to cut around the two gyms than go through the main halls. Between the two gyms there's a foyer that serves as an entrance during sporting events, but during school it is rarely used. As I approached I smelled a strong odor of marijuana. I had smoked it a bit in college and the smell momentarily brought back memories. Then I promptly pushed them away and remembered I was a teacher now and was about to walk in on students smoking pot! My heels had been making a steady clacking in the hallways and I heard them pause as I got to the double doors and pushed them open. A cloud of smoke spilled out.
"Shit!" I heard someone say, I looked at the three young men standing in front of me. Two of them I immediately recognized as students in one of my classes, the third looked familiar from the halls. One of them had a joint in his mouth and had clearly just inhaled, in his panic he began to cough and gag.
"MRS. G!" One of my two students, Dean squawked, a freshly rolled joint fell from his fingers bouncing on the linoleum and rolling a foot or so.
"Oh my god!" The third said. He was recovering from his choking. I was trying to remember his name, he wasn't in any of my classes, but I knew him from the senior class.
"Mrs. G. Please don't get us in trouble!" My other student, Martin said. "This is our senior year! The school has that zero tolerance policy! We're all eighteen we'd be in deep shit... I mean trouble!" He was pleading, and his bloodshot eyes were desperate.
It was late September we were enjoying a nice heat wave, and I had been in a really good mood. The whole situation had taken me by surprise, and that's how I made my first critical mistake!
"Listen!" I said bending at the knees to pick up the joint that had rolled away. Although I was wearing a calf length denim skirt, there was nothing even remotely sexual about crouching to retrieve the joint. "Everyone makes mistakes when they're young, but I know you're all smart kids, you've gotta' outgrow this stuff." I said holding up the joint. "However! I won't tell the dean THIS time." I extended my hand to the kid who had just finished choking. He placed the half smoked joint in my hand. Then reached into his pocket and put the rest of a small baggie in my hand. I hadn't expected that, sort of naively thinking the joints had been it.
"Thanks Mrs. G." He said. "If I get in any more trouble I'll get expelled, and I'd have to try to get into another school quick enough to not miss any work, my parents would kill me." His voice was still scratchy.
"Now get back to lunch." I said. "I'll see you two in class." Smoothing out my skirt from kneeling down and tucking the small handful of pot into one of my pockets I walked out the other door and proceeded towards the main building where my classroom was.
Little did I know how paranoid these kids were of getting in trouble. They watched me walk down the hall one of my students staying close enough to make sure I didn't dispose of the pot before reaching my classroom. I had two back to back classes between lunch and the last bell, with one of the two boys in each class. At the end of the day the marijuana was still in my pocket. (My second mistake, but not the worst I'll elaborate soon.)
From my perspective I spent the last two classes second guessing myself for not turning them in. However worse than that was what to do with the pocket full of pot I had. I was scared to throw it away, worried who might find it. If it got turned in my fingerprints WERE on it. I knew that was silly but just the same I sure as heck wasn't gonna' throw it in my classroom wastebasket.
There was also an underlying reason for me not throwing it away. As the end of the day crept up, my last class finally left. I spent a few minutes readying for tomorrow's classes Dean had lingered a moment to again thank me. In hindsight he had also taken a good look in my wastebasket to make sure I hadn't thrown the marijuana away in the classroom. They were convinced I was holding onto it and might turn them in later.
Finally I made my way out to my car. I climbed in and drove home. I only live a few miles from the school. I pulled in the driveway, my husband works evenings as a paramedic so we really only see each-other a few nights a week and mornings on the weekends. The house was quiet. I went from the driveway into the house arguing with myself. I thought about wrapping the pot up in something and burying it in the trash bag then bringing the bag out to the garage to make sure my husband didn't find it. I went to the bedroom to change out of my school clothes.
As I unbuttoned my blouse I looked at myself in the mirror, I was proud of my body, I went to the gym three times a week. At thirty I felt I was in better shape then I had been in college. I was trim, my 38C chest hadn't sagged at all, if anything they looked firmer and higher on my chest, although they probably didn't bounce the way they had when I was twenty. I had a conservative white bra on with a bit of lace at the edges.
Next I slipped my denim skirt off and lay it on the bed, being careful not to spill the contents of the pocket. I had on cream colored T-back panties. I looked at my ass in the mirror there wasn't a bit of cheesecake on it, my thighs were the same way, long hours on the orbital had paid off. Finally I took my hair and put it in a pony tail, leaving the two barrettes that kept it out of my face all day on my dresser. It looked like a bushy auburn pom-pom behind my head, but it was comfortable.
Going into the bathroom and cranking open the bathroom window I got out a candle and lit it with a wooden match. Neither my husband nor I smoke so we don't own any lighters. I then retrieved my skirt and pulling the marijuana out of the pocket I set it on the bathroom sink and picked up the un-smoked joint. It had been probably 8 years since I smoked, before I met my husband when I was a junior in college. (My Biggest mistake, but not my last)
I struck another wooden match and shaking my head thankful my husband wouldn't be home for a good 8 hours I put the joint in my mouth lit it and inhaled. I held it in for as long as I could and then had a massive coughing fit as I exhaled. The joint went out as I gasped trying to recover. Several minutes went by and I was half laughing at myself.
