Several years ago, I joined an online dating service and contacted women all over the world. As fate would have it, I connected with a woman, Christina, who lived only a few miles from me, which was convenient for us to meet, if our online romance developed and we wanted to take it to the next level and meet in person. By the photos that she sent me through her e-mails, if they accurately represented how she looked in person, she was beautiful. In fact, she resembled Linda Carter, the former Miss America, of Wonder Woman fame. She told me that she was 5'7" and weighed 135 pounds with any extra weight adhering to her C cup breasts and shapely hips.
She worked at the local elementary school as a pre-school teacher. I always thought of school teachers, especially grade school teachers, in the same regard as librarians and Catholic school lay people, as women and men of high moral standards with extreme levels modesty, but not this woman. From the hot e-mails we exchanged, she appeared anything but a prude; a wild vixen would better describe her. She said that she did not like her name and asked me to call her Tina.
After exchanging a dozen e-mails, several semi-nude leading up to totally nude photos, and telephone numbers, we agreed to meet for lunch at a local Chinese food restaurant. Over pork fried rice and Mai Tais, we connected immediately. She had an engaging personality, a pretty smile, a fun sense of humor, a penchant for risqué sexual adventure, and was drop dead gorgeous with a body that would melt a snowman in a deep freeze. A bonus to her character makeup was that she was an exhibitionist. Voyeur man meets exhibitionist woman, it does not get any better than that.
Our first meeting quickly progressed to the front seat of my car where we made out like high school teenagers. With each long, wet kiss, we explored one another's bodies with our hands and our mouths. Then, after making a spectacle of ourselves in the parking lot of the restaurant, and fearing that someone from her school would recognize her, we drove to my apartment where we fucked like dogs in heat and sucked and licked one another as if devouring popsicles on a hot July day.
She slowly made our first sexual encounter hotter by peppering the conversation with spicy talk about the school custodian's sexual antics with some of the female teachers in her grade school. She simmered the heat to a slow boil by telling me that even though she was attracted to Dante, his name, and had fantasized about doing him while she masturbated when home alone, that she would never risk losing her job over a brief and meaningless sexual encounter with another school employee. A typical imbedded clichéd response, don't shit where you eat enforced her decision to not go there.
Yet, now, excited about the thought of her with another man and aroused by her hot conversation later telling me about the sexual encounter of that forbidden union afterwards when in bed with her, I dared her, double dared her, to have sex with him. She was one not to turn down a dare, never mind a double dare. Our hot pillow talk increased our sexuality that first day and by the end of our sexual session, her horniness was so heightened that she agreed to flirt with him and tease him to see what would happen. Boy, do I love grammar school teachers, now.
The next morning, I called her early before she dressed for school to find out what she was planning to wear to school that day.
"Freddie, I can't dress like a slut. I have a responsible position in the community. Parents, teachers, and school administrators, especially that snake, Mr. Stuart, the Principal will talk."
"Of course, Tina, I understand and do not want to make you uncomfortable, but how about wearing a blouse with buttons and a skirt, not the long skirts that you generally wear but a skirt that is appropriately just above the knee and one that is loose fitting enough and that allows you to squat down without ripping it."
I could feel her imagining the scenarios of exhibitionistic opportunities that a button blouse and short skirt would allow.
"Okay, I have a cream blouse and a brown skirt that I can wear."
"Good. Now, when you know the custodian is about to enter your classroom to empty the trash, squat down angling yourself to the door and away from the class on the pretense of helping a student. That way, he will have a nice upskirt view."
"Freddie, I have to wear panties. I cannot go without panties. I am not Britney Spears. Yet, I bet you already know which pair of panty I should wear, right?"
"Of course, you should wear panties, Tina, but you must wear bright white cotton panties." I felt my cock stir at the image of her squatting down in the sight line of the custodian and her giving him the perfect view of her panty clad pussy.
"You are so bad." She giggled and with that giggle I knew that it was a done deal. "And what about the button down blouse?"
"Well, later in the day, at lunch, when he is down in the boiler room eating his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, unbutton a couple buttons and pay him a visit. Lean over him making sure that he has a good down blouse view of your round hooters while telling him that your classroom is too cold and asking him to turn up the heat, if you know what I mean."
"Yes, you want me to stoke his fire before he heats up my classroom." She giggled again and by that sexy giggle, I knew that she would do it.
Later in the day, I called her cell phone to ask if I could pick her up from school. I was eager to find out what happened between her and the custodian. She answered her phone in a whisper.
