Teacher Teacher

It is assumed that you have read Part I before reading this but just in case, this fictional account takes place in the late 1960s.

*

I awoke Sunday morning to bright sunlight streaming through the open window and stretched my tired and surprisingly sore body, my morning wood quickly bringing back memories of yesterday. I stroked it a few times, my hard-on once again totally invigorated and ready to go until I realized how bad I had to pee. I looked at the clock and realized I had been asleep for almost ten hours and didn't remember getting up during the night to go to the bathroom as I normally would.

I stretched again, feeling my back muscles tighten up slightly and pushed myself out of bed. As I stood, my back ached even more and my legs felt like jelly. Who knew sex could be such a workout. The pain helped my desire to wane a bit and I pulled on my light robe and made my way to the bathroom, the morning wood still forcing the robe out slightly from my body. I met my mom in the hallway as she came out of the bathroom.

"Good morning, dear," she whispered and pulled me into her for a bear hug.

She was wearing one of her skimpy, white baby doll outfits, obviously planning the usual Sunday morning kitchen sex feast for my father. My hands floated up under the back of the translucent nylon fabric and encountered her soft bare skin as I hugged her close. Normally this wouldn't bother me that much, but after yesterday, my senses were on high-alert and I could feel my morning wood turning into a steel rod in spite of my desperation to urinate. I leaned into her and kissed her softly on the neck as had been our customary practice since I was a little kid snuggling with her at nap time.

She had applied fresh perfume while in the bathroom and I felt myself get dizzy as my full eight inches made contact with my mom's lower belly, just inches from the top of her pubic hair, which had been readily visible through the thin cloth as I approached her. I felt her sharp intake of breath at the contact and she gripped me tighter, my dick flexing upward and flattening against her belly. My nose ran the length of her neck and then sniffed lightly behind her ear as I softly kissed her earlobe.

She tightened her grip even more as my hands drifted lower on her back, her breathing now ragged. I could feel her stiff nipples poking through my light-weight robe and burning my chest. She moved her lower belly almost imperceptively, but it felt like a belly-dancer's move to my aching, stiff rod. I remembered again that this was my mother and I really had to pee bad now. I had this intense desire to kiss her passionately, but I gently pushed away, our bodies separating though only a few inches apart.

Her perfume still wafting through my senses and my rod now poking out from the opening to my robe, I started to apologize. "I'm sorry ..." She looked to be in a daze with her hand reaching out toward my manhood. I touched her face, our eyes meeting for the first time.

"I'm sorry mom," I said again as I wrapped the robe around me, covering my protruding manhood.

"It's alright dear," her voice still soft. "You're a man now and these things happen that you can't control. Let's not make a fuss about it."

Her smile promised so much, but that would be for dad and not me. I would say that I warmed her up for him, but she was horny before we ever met in the hallway. At least I knew where I got my sex drive. I squeezed past her into the bathroom and shut the door. What the hell was I doing? That was mother and I almost lost control around her. Hell, she almost lost control. Why did sex have to get so confusing again after such a wonderful day as yesterday had been?

My woody finally went down enough for me to drain it, the shrinking hose still managing to send a ripple of chills through my body like another orgasm. I finished the rest of my morning rituals, shortening my shower so I could get out of the house before the noise started. I decided on cookies for breakfast and through some into a lunch bag to share with the guys. I grabbed my cap, ball and glove and headed to the ball field to work out some frustrations. It was a short walk to the field, but I was having trouble keeping thoughts of my mother out of my head. I needed to see Mrs. Taylor today.

George and Jeff were already there so I shared the cookies with them while we waited for the rest of the guys to show up. We lamented how there were no good shows on Friday night now as all three channels had re-runs last night. They thought we should have gone to the movies last night to see if we had the guts to buy tickets to Harry, Cherry, and Raquel, an X-rated film that was showing downtown at one of the mainstream theatres. We knew we would have been too embarrassed to risk having someone we know see us go in there.

George invited us over to his house after we were done. It was hard to say no to him because we had been friends so long.

"C'mon, the Yanks are on at 1:00...and my mom's making pastries for Sunday dinner," George stated with a huge smile when he mentioned the pastries. His mom was a child when her family came over from Italy and she had all her mom's recipes. The canolis would just melt in your mouth. His mom was nice with a pretty face but the pounds had tacked on gradually over the years so she was a little plump now. But she always had a smile on her face and something delicious cooking in the oven, which made her very popular with our crowd.

We only played for three hours before folks started getting hungry and decided to call it a day. We took the back entrance to the park to head towards George's place. The walk would take us within a few houses of where Mrs. Taylor lived and when we got to the street, I casually looked down to her house and noticed there were three other cars in her driveway. Guess I wouldn't be seeing her today.

"Hey, doesn't Mrs. Taylor live down this street?" Jeff asked. "Man, what I wouldn't give for one night with her."

"You wouldn't know what to do with her," George replied.

"But it sure would be fun trying," I laughed. I hoped they hadn't noticed any change in me and didn't want to start acting differently by defending her honor.

"This coming from the teacher's pet," George said seriously. "If anybody has a chance with her, it would be you. Man, you would do the IQ crowd proud if you could even kiss her." I could sense the frustration in his voice and Jeff was just nodding as we walked along.

I couldn't tell them about what had happened with her yesterday let alone the feelings I had for my mom this morning. It would be all around school before we got in tomorrow morning and Mrs. Taylor would be transferred or fired and I would be a pariah with any decent girl at school. No, I just had to keep my mouth shut, enjoy the sex while I could, and realize that when her husband came home it was over and time to move on. It was a tough job, but someone had to do it. I grinned as we walked and George took notice, giving me the raised eyebrow.

"Ok, I can't say I haven't thought about kissing her or doing a whole lot more. But when we're alone grading papers, she's all business or she's talking about her husband," I lied.

They both shook their heads knowingly, like that was how they expected every teacher to be around students. As we approached George's house, the aroma of sweet baked goods was floating in the air and all thoughts of sex quickly faded as our hungry bellies took over. George's mom, Angie Russo, was as Italian as they come and by far the best cook of any of our mothers. She was in her early fifties with light brown hair that had streaks of gray, almost like it was highlighted that way. The few extra pounds she now carried filled out her ample bosom and had kept away any wrinkles from that lovely smiling face.

She greeted us all with a hug and kiss on the cheek as she always had. I had never thought of her in a sexual way before, but now being squished against those soft pillows on her chest, I realized she was still a beautiful, vibrant woman and George's dad was one lucky man. She was already heating up leftover lasagna for our lunch yelling "Mangi, mangi, you boys eat like birds!"

We had a great afternoon together watching baseball and talking about girls, sports, and these new things called computers that were going to be revolutionized by something called a micro-chip. Then Jeff had to bring up TV.

"Did you guys watch Dean Martin Thursday? Joey Heatherton was on their singing and dancing wearing a negligee. My pecker was standing straight up. She's a lot better looking Joey than you are man," he said looking straight at me and laughing at the reference to our similar names...

"She reminds me of Joey's mom," George said, breaking that unwritten oath of talking about someone else's mom in reference to sex. He could see my facial expression change. "Seriously man, your mom is a fox. She's as beautiful as any actress." Jeff just nodded in agreement.

So maybe my feelings this morning weren't that weird after all. Dad and I weren't the only ones who thought that mom was drop dead gorgeous. Maybe that yearning this morning was normal. Time would tell.

When the game was over, Jeff and I headed home while George readied himself for a Sunday dinner feast. I walked back the way we came, but cut down Mrs. Taylor's street, hoping her guests had left. They hadn't, as I noticed the same 3 cars parked in her driveway, so I jogged the rest of the way home.

It was a pretty quiet dinner with mom barely looking at me and dad ogling mom like he was ready for some more Sunday breakfast sex. They must have had a really wild session after I left. I quickly ate and excused myself so I could type up my paper for English class that was due Monday. I had written it last week but was sidetracked by my time with Mrs. Taylor and had never gotten around to typing it. Miss Raphael would be really pissed if she had to decipher my handwriting on another paper and I aimed to keep her happy.

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I woke up Monday morning and had showered and eaten before mom and dad even made it out of bed. I only had one bus I could take and that got me to school at 7:30, enough time to double check homework before classes started at 8:00. Ione sat next to me on the bus, which was quite unusual but she was late getting to the stop and had to take the empty seat next to me instead of in back with the 'cool' girls.

Ione was a female jock. She was about the same height as me with a curvaceous body and better abs than I could ever dream of having. We had known each other since fifth grade when she was the first girl in class to need a training bra. She was almost a half foot taller than me back then, but her growth spurt slowed and I caught up to her last year. She had shoulder length auburn hair with just a hint of curls but today it was pulled into a ponytail. She wasn't wearing makeup and she didn't need to but usually did anyway. I was used to seeing those soft pouty lips covered with a light red lipstick. They looked just as kissable today without the red wax on them.

"Hey beautiful, to what do I owe the honor?" I asked, in a tone that only a friend could get away with.

"I hate Mondays. There should be a law against having gym class for first period. Fucking periods!"

"Uh-oh. That explains it." I held her hand and she calmed down, leaning her head on my shoulder. She looked exhausted and now I knew why. Mom got the same way when she had her periods.

"Thanks. I'm just beat. I was up late writing that paper for English and then this hit and now having gym class...." She leaned her head back on my shoulder and drifted off to sleep. She was wearing a tight pink, polyester top with a white cotton skirt that was showing a lot of her long luxurious legs. With her napping, my eyes had the freedom to roam without fear of being caught. She had a full chest pushing out that pink fabric and it looked like...nipples pushing through the thin material. She had mentioned once before that she needed to wear a different kind of bra for sports because her boobs were so big. I guess her uniforms hid this little secret in the past.

I woke her up when we got to school, reluctantly looking away from those hardened nipples. It wasn't until then that I realized I'd had a hard-on and I quickly grabbed my books and put them in my lap. She stood up, suddenly alert and grabbed me as I stood. "Thanks, you're the best," followed by a peck on the cheek and she was off.

"See you in English," I gushed. In seven years she had never given me a kiss before, though we were used to holding hands in a brother-sister sort of way when we walked home in grade school. Maybe it was just her period making her act differently.

Ione came running into English class just as the bell sounded, looking very flustered and a little ragged again. The top two buttons of her satiny pink top were undone exposing that ample cleavage now encased in a white lace bra. Apparently those sporty ones weren't that comfortable. Her skin was flushed; her face red from running I assumed, but that bountiful cleavage now more in view as she leaned a little forward, had a shimmering pink glow.

Her hand was playing with a buttonhole as she stared straight ahead at Miss Raphael. My attention to her breasts was averted when Miss Raphael asked us to pass in the stories we had written. I hadn't noticed her when I came into class, still daydreaming about the bus ride, but I was now focused on the same wondrous sight that had captured Ione's attention.

The petite and lovely Miss Raphael was wearing her normal black to match her hair, but her skirt was shorter than normal and the material of her skirt and blouse was a shiny black satin. The tightness of the top accentuated how small her breasts were and the short skirt led down to black hose and black patent leather shoes with three inch heels. When added to her usual mascara coated eyelashes and bright red lipstick, she looked like a fifteen year old hooker instead of an English teacher.

Ione and I were the only two students in the back row and Miss Raphael appeared to be looking straight at us as she talked. I glanced to my left at Ione and noticed her fingers were now playing along the top of her exposed chest. I started to stare as her fingers went lower, her nails now scraping gently across that inviting cleavage. This went on for several minutes, my boner getting harder and pushing up my pants.

I really didn't care at this point. This was sexier than watching Lori n Math class. Ione was mere inches away from me instead of across the room. Her eyes stayed focused on Miss Raphael but her hand moved inside her bra and her fingers were now fondling her nipple, the turgid flesh occasionally exposed to my view. My mom had always said her nipples got very tender during her period but this apparently was not a problem for Ione. I glanced at Miss Raphael and her eyes appeared to be locked on Ione, even as she rattled off her spiel for this morning's class. Those long eyelashes seemed to flutter slightly as she watched the same show that I had gone back to.

Ione's tongue slipped out slowly, wetting her lips, then slipped back inside as her nostrils flared, her excitement now obvious. I watched her continue to pinch that nipple, the surrounding mounds of flesh turning a brighter red due to her randy actions. I tried to imagine the purple head of my hard cock sliding into that valley of burning flesh, tempted to reach into my own pants and start jerking off.

Miss Raphael stayed cool and calm for the most part. She would turn and write on the blackboard, but every time she turned around, her eyes went back to the same spot. I could feel my cock leaking lubricant that was just going to waste, knowing there was no way for me to chance jerking off in class. I looked back to see Miss Raphael looking at me with a knowing look. So she caught me looking. What was she going to do? She had been looking as well and was just as guilty. I smiled back at her, emboldened by that thought. She grinned just before turning back to the blackboard, flashing her cute ass in that tight, shiny skirt.

I turned my attention back to Ione, who had stopped playing with her boob but now had hiked her skirt slightly and was slowly working her fingers up her thigh. I could see the sharp, well-defined fingernails as they softly scratched the pink flesh of her inner thigh. Damn I wanted to pull my cock out so bad.

Ione finally noticed I was watching her and took her eyes off our lovely little teacher. She followed my eyes to her crotch like she didn't realize what she was doing to herself. She looked confused for a minute as she stared down at her now exposed panties, then turned more towards me, a small smile appearing on her soft, luscious lips. Those long fingers raked across the cotton cloth covering her now swollen slit. She breathed deeply, her nostrils flaring again as she watched me watching her. She looked at my crotch and saw my long shaft poking my pants almost straight up. She pushed harder on her slit, her finger separating the bulbous lips and forcing the material between them.

Pink flesh came into view and I almost exploded. She slid the panties aside and worked her fingers across her clit as I ran my hand over the bulge in my pants. The string of her tampon was hanging between her swollen pussy lips reminding me of her condition. The aroma of her lubricious excitement was now wafting through the air and I was afraid others in class might notice it. I glanced at the clock and noticed that class was almost over and nodded to her to get her attention. She saw the time and reluctantly removed her fingers from the large nubbin poking out the top of her pussy, moving her panties back into place. She pulled her skirt back down, but didn't bother with the buttons on her tight pink blouse, her inviting cleavage left for me to view.

She leaned over to whisper to me. "Meet me downstairs by the locker rooms," desperation in her voice.

"But I have History class next period."

"I don't give a fuck. Be there," she whispered, this time a command and not a request. Why did women always get so assertive when they were horny?

The bell rang and Ione quickly left. I let most of the others leave ahead of me as I tried to keep my books in front of me to keep my raging hard-on hidden. Just as I got near the door, Mrs. Raphael called out to me.

"Joey, can I see you for a minute?"

I went over to her, noticing her sweet perfume as I got closer. I wet my lips, trying to think up some excuse for what had happened in the back row today. I needn't have bothered.

"Um, I'm going over to Linda's for dinner Wednesday night. Maybe you should see if you can help her grade papers that night." She smiled a devilish smile and looked down at the books covering my crotch.

I smiled back at her. "That sounds like a wonderful idea to me. I think I can work that out." I wanted to reach out and grab one of her tiny little titties but the next class was already filing in so I turned and left. As I got out into the hallway, I remembered my orders from commander Ione and headed down to the basement. I was walking towards the locker rooms when someone grabbed my arm and pulled me into the ladies room.

Ione crushed her lips to mine, her hands holding my head in place in case I resisted. I dropped my books and wrapped my arms around her, my right hand quickly finding that firm round tush. She reached down and grabbed my belt, opening my pants faster than I ever could. Gravity pulled them down but she slipped my undies down enough for my massive rod to pop out.

Her tongue slipped between my lips as she worked my dripping cock with those long, soft fingers and I lifted her skirt up to her waist. Leaving my right hand on her butt, I slipped it under her panties and pulled her closer, my fingers quickly finding their target. She was as wet as I was and you could hear the sloshing sounds as we frigged each other. I reached my middle finger up the length of her slit and found her hardened nubbin, quickly applying pressure and rubbing it as hard as I could without causing pain. She came almost instantly, her body tightening and her lips crushing mine as she tried to suppress the moans escaping her lips.