This is a true story from my wild youth. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy sharing it with you all.
I was always a somewhat troublesome student in high school. I started out being a good boy, a good student, first string linebacker, somewhat of a star around school. I am not exactly sure how the transformation happened, but girls, fun and drugs played a big part of it...especially girls.
I eventually quit the football team so I could work after school, much to everyone's dismay. I learned quickly that girls did not like to date guys that couldn't afford to show them a good time, even a muscle bound football star.
I managed to find a job cleaning a butcher shop a few evenings a week, which worked out perfectly. It gave me enough money to buy gas, party with my friends and take girls out on nice dates.
I wasn't a bad kid, I just loved having fun, I wasn't out to do mean things or hurt anyone. But I found myself slipping away from my studies, falling behind, skipping classes.
I looked older than I was, I already had a receding hairline and had a very heavy beard that required shaving every day, and left a 5 o'clock shadow by noon. Because of this I mostly dated college girls, and even had occasional flings with older women.
I was barely passing my senior year, when I was kicked out for the remainder of the year for beating up another kid. I saw this kid picking on a defenseless special-ed student, and I stepped in and told him to pick on someone his own size. The kid thought he was a tough guy and took a swing at me, punching me in the face. I only hit him three times before he went down with blood running down his face from the gash in his forehead. Our school had a zero tolerance policy, when it came to fighting , and both parties involved are automatically suspended for 30 days. Which meant I was out for the remainder of the year and would not graduate.
My parents pressured me to enroll in night school for the summer. I landed a job at a cemetery during the day, and I turned 18 at the beginning of June. I was dreading going to school every night, when I could be out with my friends, or my girlfriend, but oh well, I was making some money and still had my weekends free. And I had a friend who had enrolled in the same night school class. So it shouldn't be too bad.
The teacher's name was Miss Cranston, according to the schedule. Oh great, I envisioned a lonely old spinster, that probably had a dozen cats and hated guys like me. So the first night of class my buddy picked me up and we smoked a joint on the way to school. We wanted to be primed to deal with this old battle axe .
We were cutting up as we walked down the hall to our classroom. I had brought an apple to make a good first impression, I wanted to start things off on the right foot. I was surprised when I walked in the classroom to find not a cranky old spinster, but instead there was a young woman, who looked fresh out of college and was actually quite lovely. She had kind of a hippie look about her, like most young women in the 1970s did. Long dark hair, jeans, a modest loose fitting shirt. Small and very attractive.
She looked a little timid when I walked up to her desk and put the apple in front of her. "Hi Miss Cranston! I am John and I am excited to be in your class!" Her big blue eyes looked up at me, I am sure she noticed my glowing eyes, I saw her checking out my long hair and looking at my beefy arms and chest through my T-shirt. "Please call me Jan, and have a seat and we will get started."
This must have been her first teaching gig, and she seemed very nervous and very intimidated by the class. It was kind of a rough crowd, mostly guys. I was one of the youngest in the class at 18. There were quite a few adults, and some of them looked rode hard and put away wet, as they say. But as the classes went on, she got into her groove, she learned to make it fun and to keep our attention. She was so sweet, very mild and still somewhat timid. The students were all very nice to her, she really was adorable.
She would stand outside the classroom before and after each class, and I would stop and chat with her a little bit every day. She would laugh and shake her head when she saw my red eyes, and I am sure she could smell the weed on me as I came into class every night. I was really starting to have the hots for her, I loved her smile and the way she looked at me with those big blue eyes.
She was a tiny little thing, but she always wore such loose clothing, it was hard to see her shape very well. Judging from what I could see, she had some nice little curves, and some very ample breasts, and like so many women during that era, she didn't always wear a bra.
On more than one occasion, when she was standing outside the classroom leaning against the lockers, I had a hard time not looking at her hard nipples poking through the material of her top. She always blushed when she noticed what I was looking at, and it seemed to make them even harder.
We had our last day of class for the summer session on a Friday, it was the beginning of August and it was ungodly hot and humid. The air conditioning in the big old school couldn't keep up with it and our classroom was like a sauna.
Jan had told us all it was going to be a casual evening and she also said form everyone to bring in a record album with a favorite song on it, and she would play everyone song and give them a chance to explain why they liked the song so much.
Friday was my payday and after work I scored some killer hashish from a friend. I shared some with my buddy when he picked me up for school, and we were ripped by the time we got there. We were joking and laughing as we walked down the hallway.
Jan was in her spot leaning against the lockers when we walked up. Instead of wearing her usual jeans and a loose top, with her hair pulled back, she had on a long hippie looking dress. It buttoned down the front, and was only buttoned halfway up her chest and was unbuttoned from about mid thigh down. Her long brown hair was hanging down and she had one foot flat against the locker she was leaning on, which made her knee stick out of the opening of her dress. She looked stunning!
I was very high, and I stopped to talk to her as I went in, she seemed different, her eyes were as glassy as mine. She was running her foot up and down the locker behind her as we chatted. There was no mistaking how hard her nipples were, I couldn't stop looking at them as they poked through the thin material of her dress.
I was wearing a muscle shirt, and my skin was very tan from my job at the cemetery . The short time we chatted, she kept looking at my bare arms and shoulders, my big hairy chest was pushing out the front of my shirt. My cock was starting to make a bulge in my jeans, which apparently did not go unnoticed by her.
Jan had set up a little record player in the classroom and started things off in alphabetical order. Each person getting up and explaining their choice of song, and what they liked about it. When my name came up I played "The Lemon Song" by Led Zeppelin. I picked it just for it's sexual connotations, I explained that I liked how primal and raw it was. It wasn't even a double entendres, it was intensely sexual and pornographic, no beating around the bush with those lyrics.
She was blushing as she listened to my description, but her eyes were fixed on me and she was hanging on every word I spoke. When Robert Plant started moaning " Squeeze my lemon baby, til the juice runs down my leg." Her face was blushing deep red and her eyes were fixed on the throbbing bulge in my pants, her nipples were poking out like diamond cutters as she listened to the intensely sexual lyrics. I picked this song as somewhat of a seduction move and she was definitely taking the bait.
