This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between the characters and real individuals is coincidence. All characters are over age eighteen.
A young man gets to act out the years-long crush he had on his former teacher.
***
Years ago in middle school, Mrs. C. often wore tight and somewhat low cut blouses and always smiled at the boys. Lucky me, I had her for both Sex Ed. and Biology. I stared at her whenever I had the chance.
She had long brown hair and brown eyes and this creamy smooth, light brown skin. One day, I went to her desk to ask a question. I already knew the answer; I just wanted to get a closer look. When I got to her desk, my eyes fell from her face, to her neck, past her collar bones, and all the way down into her cleavage. She didn't wear necklaces. Interrupting that lovely swath of flesh would be wrong. I remember looking right down in there and too late coming up to her big 'gotcha' smile and into her big brown eyes. Caught and embarrassed. My face felt red the rest of the day.
For the rest of middle school, I loved seeing her in the halls even outside of class. Sometimes I even passed my her classroom for no reason, hoping to catch a glimpse.
I entered high school and the years passed. I didn't see her for a long time. Then one Saturday I got a flat tire and turned onto a residential street to change it. I was just finishing when I heard someone knocking on a window. I looked into the house across the street and saw a hand waving, but with so much glare on the glass, that's all I could see. A minute or so later, the side gate opened and Mrs. C. waved me over.
"Hey, long time no see!"
"Hi, Mrs. C. It's been a long time."
Back in school, Mrs. C. always wore conservative pantsuits. But now, she was in black workout tights and a neon pink tank that showed every single curve. She looked fantastic!
"It's so hot out here! Why don't you come in and clean those hands. I'll get us something cold to drink."
"Yeah, it is hot. Thanks, Mrs. C."
"Well, come in," she said, grinning.
She led me down the walkway and I couldn't help but stare at her butt bouncing back and forth in those tights. She had her long hair in a ponytail that hung down her back, and it bounced in rhythm with her lovely bottom. She turned to look at me and almost caught me staring.
"There's the laundry room where you can wash up," she said as we walked into the cool air of her home. "Then have a seat. Want something to drink?"
When I finished washing the tire goop off of my hands, I sat down on her loveseat. I watched her make lemonade in the kitchen. She turned to her side to pour the glasses, but it was so bright in there that her tight shape stood out as only a dark silhouette. It would have made a pretty hot photograph. Her stomach was flat like a board but her boobs and butt stuck out against the sunlight. I never remember seeing her quite so tight like that. In fact, she seemed to be gaining weight the last year of middle school.
It was only then that I noticed that she was looking my way, so I turned my head to look at the photos on the end table. One of them was a man in an Air Force uniform. He looked so much older than her, but not old enough to be her dad. She was into her thirties now.
"That's my husband," she said, walking in with the lemonade. "He's stationed on the other side of the world, in Hell." She sat down right beside me and faced me. Her left knee was almost against my leg. It made me a little nervous, sitting alone with a teacher I had a huge crush on just a few years ago. To top it off, those tight workout clothes showed everything. I think my hand was shaking as I took the first drink of lemonade.
"So what have you been up to these past few years?"
"Just school."
"You're in high school now, right?"
"Yeah, graduating next month."
"Oh, wow! And if I remember, you'll be eighteen soon."
"I am already, last week."
"Happy birthday!" she said, smiling and rubbing my arm. "How perfect."
"Thanks."
"Mmm, I remember something else too."
"Oh?" Now I was really nervous. She had a way of speaking that made it seem like there was some hidden meaning to her words.
"Mmmm hmmm. I remember you sneaking peeks at me."
I took another drink of lemonade and was so nervous it went down the wrong way and I started to cough. She patted and rubbed my back as I managed to say, "Oh, yeah, I'm really sorry about that. I didn't mean..."
"Oh that's alright. I didn't mind at all. In fact, I liked it." I didn't say anything for a second or so, then turned toward her and she was looking at me and smiling. "Really, I like being looked at. My husband is always away and, well, the fact is we've grown apart in other respects too." She looked sad for a second and looked away.
"You okay Mrs. C." I wanted to put my arms around her; she looked really depressed all of a sudden.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just lonely. Never mind. My name is Kathy, by the way."
"You were always Mrs. C to me."
"But that makes me sound so old. Call be Kat, okay."
"Okay, Kat."
"I've just been feeling old lately. There was a time when the kids at school didn't seem so young. These days they seem so much like children. I've changed, not them. They call me Mrs. C. too. I'd just like to be called Kat. Am I making any sense?"
"I understand."
"I remember not so long ago when you were in class. Back then, all you boys would look at me. Honestly, I appreciated it. But things with my husband...Well, I started gaining weight and my husband was gone, and the boys, and even the grown men, stopped looking."
"Gained weight? Oh, Mrs...Kat, you look tighter than ever." All that came out of my mouth before I knew what I was saying.
"Oh, thank you," she said, rubbing my shoulder. "That's so sweet of you to notice. I've been working out, a lot. So it's nice to hear that you've noticed. Hmmm," she sighed. "You were one of those boys that I always saw looking at me. It was sweet."
"Always? Oh, no."
"I don't think you were even aware that I knew." I put my lemonade down and bent over with my face in my hands and let out a groan. She laughed and began gently rubbing my back, then my neck. I came back up, beet red in the face. "Oh, don't be embarrassed."
"I'm really sorry, Kat, I guess..."
"You couldn't help it? Oh, now I'm really flattered!"
I must have groaned again, and said, "You're not offended?"
"Oh, no. Not in the least. I love it." She moved a little closer to me and rubbed my shoulder again as her knee rode up onto my thigh. I thought about moving farther away for a second, but I didn't want to. "Oh, you're trembling. What's wrong? All this talk about looking at me making you nervous? Well, there's a fix for that," she said, as she rubbed my shoulder and let her fingers glide down my upper arm. "You have to accept the fact that I like it."
"If you say so, Kat."
"I do say so."
She rose and walked to where her exercise mat, weights, and other stuff was, and began to put things away. I watched her move, how she walked, how she bent over. Kat was more than beautiful, she was graceful, smooth. I loved watching her face too, but that's not what I was looking at when she said, "Gothca!" I turned red again and shook.
"Listen to me." She grabbed my hand and held it. "It's all right. There's nothing wrong with it. You can look all you want. Any time you want."
"Kat, I'm sorry. I just think you're beautiful. Gorgeous in fact."
"Oh, my! Thank you! That's so sweet of you to say! Kat put one hand on the armrest and the other on my shoulder, then leaned forward and kissed me. She breathed heavily as she put her warm, wet lips on mine. It felt so good. It wasn't my first kiss, technically speaking. But in all other respects, the first few kisses didn't count any longer, not compared to this.
Kat turned, then sat on my lap and touched my face and ran her fingers through my hair and began to kiss me again. "Hold me," she said and as I wrapped my arms around her. We held each other and kissed and I felt my cock harden. I worried she would feel it too, but holding her and feeling her fingers on my face and in my hair felt so damn good, I stopped caring. Pulling away for a moment, Kat removed the scrunchy that held per ponytail in place and brought my hand up to her head. I wasn't sure what to do, so I just put my fingers into her silky, long brown hair. She moaned softly, "Mmmmm, that feels nice."
