Miss Amy

Amy had been teaching at Marchmont Schools for almost ten years now, although you would never guess from her looks that she had even been out of high school for that long, let alone college. At 33, she felt like she didn't turn heads like she used to. Her husband always told her differently, but she used to feel the stares at bars, and had never paid for a drink in her life. Something about being the tallest girl in most rooms made men notice you, and if she was in the mood for a little attention, all it took was some bare leg. As she aged, she had begun to fill out a dress a little differently than she had in her teens and twenties. Dan recognized this fact too, although the two of them disagreed on whether this was a good or bad fact. Where Dan saw a bigger bust, curvier hips, and a nice shapely ass, Amy saw a higher number on the scale and a chance of cellulite. Her 5'10" frame made her curves all the more impressive, although she certainly didn't see it that way.

Trying on a red dress to compliment her long, black hair, she considered the woman in the mirror. From some angles she definitely still appreciated the way her legs looked, the way her breasts remained perky, and the curve of a womanly ass. But she craved the attention she used to get, the knowledge of being able to control any guy in the room, at least for tonight.

She decided the red dress was too flashy. After all, she was just playing the hostess. And it was silly to think that a group of high school boys would give her any attention. Shit, she was old enough to be their mom, technically. Marchmont had a reputation for excellence in sports, which the administration took great pains to continue. Many former graduates had gone on to NCAA fame, and the number of professional athletes with a Marchmont letterman jacket hanging in some closet was disproportionate to the school's small size. One of the keys to this success was a strict ignorance to the state's "guidelines" on age and grade placement. As a result, almost every senior at Marchmont was at least 18, and every varsity athlete this year was technically an adult. But 18 years old is a long way from 33, and she doubted any of these boys would care whether she was wearing the red dress or a clown costume. She'd just be another "mom" to them.

She settled on a simpler black skirt and top, with red heels (hey, she could be a LITTLE flashy, 33 or not), smoothed her hair, and did one last "hair, makeup, butt" check in the vanity mirror. If Dan were home, he'd probably make some Van Halen joke, but she'd have to do without tonight, as Dan was working late. Again. It was good for their bank account, but Amy missed feeling affection. It seemed like all they did now was work, eat dinner, and watch TV until they fell asleep. What a life, huh? Amy sighed, grabbed her keys, and exited to her little crossover SUV.

The basketball team had won the state championship. Fifth year in a row, and something like the thirtieth time overall. Every year, the coach threw a party to celebrate the season, but his little apartment was much too small to host the team. It would be just the varsity boys, but each year someone volunteered to host the party- generally one of the boys' parents. This year no one had stepped up, and with two weeks until the deadline, Amy made the mistake of mentioning in the staff lunchroom that their rental house across town was currently vacant. Coach Vargas pounced, and Amy found herself hosting twelve young men on a Friday night. Coach had assured her that they would clean up afterwards, and he would provide all of the food, so really all she had to do was unlock the door and make sure everyone found the place, although she knew she would stay for the evening (even if it was secluding herself in one of the rear bedrooms with a book).

As she pulled up the rental's driveway, she laughed to see two of the players already here. She had thought with the excitement from the win, and the time to shower and change back into their suits (Vargas made them all wear suits on game day- something about respect), that she would've had another hour before any of them showed up. Oh well.

"Hi Miss Amy! Thanks for letting us use your place," said Tim before her car door was even closed. He had always been an anxious kid when she had taught him years ago, and it seemed like nothing had changed. Except that now he was 6'2" with broad shoulders, but the grin and the sparkling eyes were the same.

"Yeah thanks Miss Amy!" chimed in Marcus, the other early bird. If it weren't for their height, there would be no resemblance at all between the two boys. Tim was a blond-haired, blue-eyed kid that looked like he just got off the bus from the Iowa cornfields, whereas Marcus was black, tall, and built like a tank. He had to weigh 260 lbs, but it looked to be all muscle. But resemblance or not, they seemed to get along great, at least from what Amy had seen.

"Hi boys. Coach said he'd be around in a bit with the food, but in the meantime make yourselves at home," Amy said as she opened the door.

"Oh, sorry- he didn't tell you? Coach can't come tonight. He's having the food delivered, but he had something with the hospital, and... I don't remember. But he gave us these for you," said Tim.

Typical Vargas, Amy thought as she took the papers. It was a non-disclosure agreement about the party: nothing that happened here was to be discussed blah blah blah. It was understood at Marchmont that if the students needed to blow off some steam, the older ones might have a drink or two while the adults looked the other way. A full NDA seemed a bit excessive, but whatever- Amy signed the bottom and added it to the stack already containing Tim and Marcus' signatures below the blank copies.

As she moved around the house turning on lights and checking the thermostat, the other boys started to arrive. Most of them brought a case of beer with them, and it wasn't long until the young men were tipsy and loud. Amy just rolled her eyes at most of it, and headed to the back bedroom to relax. After maybe an hour, the doorbell rang and Amy went to get the food from the delivery driver. She took the pizzas into the kitchen, and decided to eat with the boys rather than hiding away again.

At first the boys quieted down a little, and Amy felt guilty for interrupting their fun, but as the eating tapered off the boys' volume returned. Amy found herself surrounded by a group of young, strong men, and the fact that she was the only woman around sure hadn't escaped their attention. Although she was sure they all thought they were being subtle, Amy had noticed them staring at her chest and her ass more times than her husband had stared their entire marriage. She was sure it was only because there was no one their age present, but it still sent a little thrill through her to know that she could still raise some glances, if nothing else.

A young man whom she thought was named Lamar wandered over to her, and between bites of pizza asked her "So Miss Amy. What do you do for fun?"

"What do I do for fun? That's an interesting icebreaker."

"Oh, sorry, I mean... Hey. I'm Tiny." He certainly wasn't tiny- at almost seven feet tall, the starting center's nickname was clearly ironic. "Some of the boys and me were trying to figure out what to do next, so I figured I'd ask you. What do you do for fun?"

Amy laughed gently. "Well, I don't know. I'm sure my idea of fun is too old-fashioned for you anyway."

"Old-fashioned?" the boy replied. "Hey, if it's fun it's fun. Besides, you're not that old. You're like MILF age, not..." he trailed off embarrassed as his brain caught up with his mouth.

"MILF, huh?" Amy giggled in spite of herself. She knew she probably should reprimand the young man, but his embarrassment was too funny to keep a straight face.

"I mean... no, it's just... you're a really attractive lady. And I meant that you're not old. I mean, you're young." Tiny was rambling and turning slightly pink, and Amy placed her hand on his arm to reassure him she wasn't mad.

"It's okay, Tiny. Thank you." She felt his arm tense, and for the first time noticed how strong he felt under her little hand. In fact, she was the shortest person in the room.

It had been a long time since she felt dainty. She was usually the tallest girl around, and she had taken to wearing flats to blend in and slouching. Now as she stood straight in heels, she was still a good inch or two shorter than the smallest of the team, and it was nice to feel small in a group of strong men, even if they were a decade younger than her.

"Well," she continued. "I don't know. We used to go out to the bars, but obviously that's out. I guess dancing isn't as fun with just a group of guys. I don't know- my husband seems to enjoy poker night, and not much else these days. Sorry, I'm not much help in the 'fun' department."

Tiny, blushing a bit less now, looked thoughtful. "Aight, thanks Miss Amy." He walked over to the point guard, Big Mike, and started talking to him as they looked around. Big Mike wasn't that big either- Amy guessed it was just a year for ironic nicknames. Big Mike and Tiny on the same team gave her another giggle, and she decided it was time for a few beers herself. She asked the nearest player (Curtis, she thought?) if he would mind, and of course he didn't. She did notice him checking out her ass as she bent to get a bottle from the bottom of the fridge, and she smiled to herself at the attention.

By her third beer she was starting to loosen up, and she looked around the room with a different perspective. Here she was, alone in a room with twelve consenting adult males, and all of them had been ogling her all night. Maybe she did still have it after all? The though sent a little tingle down her back, and she smiled to herself behind her bottle. Her thoughts were interrupted when Big Mike called across the room to her.

"Hey Miss Amy. Wanna play?"

The boys had gathered around the smaller kitchen table, and someone had found a deck of cards somewhere. There were five young men seated, with an empty chair presumably for her.

"Sure! What are we playing?" Amy came over, enjoying the glances at her legs as she walked, and sat with the young men. At the table were Tim, Big Mike, Tiny, Marcus, and Derek, a lanky black kid with a killer smile.

The boys all paused at this question; apparently none of them had gotten past "cards" in the thought process. Marcus spoke up first.

"How about poker?"

"I don't know," Amy replied, "poker's not as much fun without money." The boys spent five minutes arguing over this, but in the end no one had a better idea, so poker won. The cabinet that held the cards also held some poker chips apparently, and Big Mike dealt everyone the chips as they began.

After a few rounds, however, Amy's point became clear. Derek had already gone "all in" three times, because with nothing to lose, it seemed to make sense. When Marcus lost his last chip, he suggested that they play something more exciting.

"Like what?" Amy was enjoying the attention, as the boys seemed to hang on her every word. In fact, they were probably more glued to her body than her voice, but that was fine with her.

Tim spoke up, unusually reserved tonight after his earlier greeting. "How about strip poker?"

A hush fell over the table, as Amy thought it over. Obviously as the only woman there, she would be at a disadvantage. This also meant that she effectively decided whether or not they would play, since she doubted they'd still play with just guys anteing up. Although the prospect excited her, she knew that she should gracefully bow out.

"Oh come on, boys. None of you wants to see an old lady's panties tonight. Come on."

Tiny spoke up "Hey, come on. I told you earlier, you're not old!"

"No, you just said I was a MILF," Amy teased.

Big Mike unexpectedly chimed in "Aww man, you told her?" As Amy turned to look at him, he realized that Tiny hadn't told her anything, and that he had just outed himself.

"Oh, so you're the one who called me that, mister?" Amy wasn't actually mad, but it was fun to watch the boy squirm.

"Well..." Big Mike stammered "actually, we kinda all were just talking about who the hottest girl at school was. And your name kinda came up."

"Wow, you boys have been talking about me tonight?" Amy asked.

"No, before tonight. I mean... look, you're hot, okay? And yeah, every guy here would like to... ya know..."

Amy thought about dragging it out and making him actually finish the sentence, but she cut him off with a wave and a laugh. "Okay, so you boys would actually want an old lady like me to play strip poker with you?" They all nodded and answered emphatically. "And I can quit anytime I like, right? With no hard feelings?" More nods and affirmatives, although Amy wasn't sure if there would actually be hard feelings if it came to it. But hell, she was enjoying teasing them anyway.

"Okay boys, deal em." There was a cheer around the table, and many of the boys who hadn't been interested in the game wandered over to see what the commotion was.

Amy was actually a pretty damn good poker player, and the boys were surprised to find themselves losing the first few rounds. Most of them chose shoes to abandon, although Marcus did reveal a surprisingly chiseled chest when he lost on two pairs to Amy's three of a kind. They had decided that the second place hand would always lose an item of clothing, so that Amy wouldn't be selected EVERY round that she didn't win. The boys' generosity came back to bite them however, as every one of them had lost at least two hands before Amy lost her first. She decided to press her luck on an outside straight rather than folding, and ended up with nothing to show but a pair of Kings, which beat the other hands but not Derek's surprising flush. She looked around the table at the five pairs of eyes anxiously glued to her and another tingle ran through her. Of all the boys on the team, only two were not huddled around the table now, and she suspected they were glancing over much more than they gave away. She bent down to fiddle with her shoe, and the boys all sighed collectively, figuring she'd choose a heel but hoping otherwise. She straightened back up, and with a "what the hell" unclasped her bra, and pulled it through her shirt to their delight. She wasn't actually showing any more skin than before, but the boys cheered like they had won the lottery. Another tingle ran through her, and this time it reached between her legs as well.

Her bra was a lacy red one that matched her shoes, and she knew it wasn't what the boys would expect from this schoolteacher before them. She gazed around and their exposed chests (most of them had lost their shirts by this point), and drank in the muscular, youthful forms. Her nipples were poking through her top visibly by this point, and the boys were having trouble keeping their eyes on their cards. As a result, it was quite a while before she lost another hand.

Soon, however, she was having trouble focusing as well. Marcus was the first to lose his pants, and when he revealed his white boxer briefs, the bulge of his penis was quite obvious. Amy wasn't sure if the stereotype about black men was true, but it certainly held up so far. Marcus' member was straining against the fabric, not hard but clearly aroused, and if she had wanted to, she could have traced the head through his cotton. Tim lost next (not to abandon his buddy, apparently), and although his bulge was not quite as impressive, it was equally visible. Perhaps more so, since he was sitting next to her. For the next few hands, her gaze dropped to his lap more and more, and one time she saw his cock twitch when he noticed her glancing.

Eventually she lost another article of clothing, and now she had a serious choice to make. It still wouldn't show anything to remove her panties, but it seemed more serious than her bra (although clearly that was enough to excite these enthusiastic boys). She could lose a heel easily, but she relished the thought of surprising these boys by not taking the easy way out. In the end she thought she settled on her shirt. She knew this was a line that couldn't be uncrossed, but she was savoring the attention, and her pussy was beginning to feel very warm. She grasped the bottom hem and revealed her navel, and every boy in the room gasped. She held the shirt there for a minute, basking in the moment, and then winked at Tiny and pulled it over her head. Her 36C breasts tumbled into view, and a few of the boys gathered around visibly adjusted themselves in their pants.

Milking the moment for all it was worth, she cupped each breast and looked down as if she hadn't seen them in a long time. She lifted each, feeling its heft, then pinched a nipple lightly and looked up at the breathless young men. Every eye was glued to her tits, and when she gleefully said "who's dealing?" the boys all jumped a little in guilt.

Tim's concentration, being next to Amy, was shot. He took second the next hand, and realized a bit too late that this meant he would be naked. Blushing furiously, he stood up and quickly pulled his briefs down, cock springing out in front of him. Amy clapped and smiled, and although embarrassed he smiled and sat down. She examined him a little more carefully during the next hand.

Tim seemed to be about six inches in length, and a decent enough girth. On the whole, a very average cock, from what Amy knew. He was circumcised and his pubic hair was trimmed neatly- Amy thought that his dick would make a perfect textbook example, if biology texts ever used real models.

Amy was the next to reveal, and she opted to keep her skirt and pulled her panties off. They were once again red to match her bra and heels, and the tiny material was soaked with her moisture. This game had her quite excited, and her aroma filled the room for a second as her panties were produced. She winked at Derek and gave them to him, and he surprised her with his boldness by inhaling her scent deeply before pocketing them, although his pants pockets were on the floor rather than his legs. Amy blew him a kiss and they re-dealt.

It wasn't until Tim lost again that they realized he had nothing more to bet. The boys all grumbled at this (even the ones not playing) until Amy spoke up.

"Well..." she began, biting her lip. "I know how we used to play in college."

"Oh yeah?" Tim sat up, excited. She could see his excitement quite clearly.

"Yeah... I don't know if it would be appropriate..." she kept a straight face, although certainly being topless with a group of half-naked eighteen and nineteen year olds was not appropriate in the least. "We used to play that the loser can pay the winner in favors."

"Okay!" said Tim enthusiastically.

"But no backing out after you lose, Tim! You won't know what the favor is until the winner tells you. I could make you mop the whole house, if I feel like it." Amy continued.

Tim hesitated a little, but still agreed. Since Marcus had won that hand, Tim knew that his chore wouldn't be terribly difficult. Marcus ordered him to fetch him another beer, and that was that.

As they continued, more and more boys lost their clothing until Marcus, Tiny, and Amy were the only ones with any clothes left. Amy had drank much less than these boys, and retained her skirt and heels easily. Marcus was still wearing only his white boxer-briefs, a nice contrast against his dark skin, and Tiny was down to boxers as well. From the bulge he created, and the twitches every time Amy laughed, jiggling her boobs, Amy guessed that his penis was as large as the rest of him. Big Mike's nickname explained itself when he revealed a cock that had to be at least eight and maybe nine inches long, and as thick as the many beer bottles littering the table. Amy actually licked her lips when she saw it, and when she caught herself she blushed and hoped none of the boys had seen.