Note: This story was originally published under my old screen name RomanticLoneWolf. It's slightly revised here. Thanks.
***
Have you ever had one of those high school teachers who no matter what you did or how hard you tried, were just going to be a stone-cold bitch regardless? Angela Harmon was one of those teachers. She taught math, and because of how small my high school was, I was
blessed
to have her all four years.
Now if you'd seen Ms. Harmon on the street, you'd probably think "damn she looks good," and to be honest, you'd be right. She was tall with long, red hair, ample d-sized boobs, a slender stomach, and an ample ass that sat atop some juicy, thick thighs. Put lightly, the woman was built like a brick shithouse, and as a young freshman, I thought she was pretty, fuckin' hot. Unfortunately, after a few months in her class, my desire for the woman curled up and died.
Ms. Harmon carried herself with an air of superiority and had the attitude that her students should know as much as she did. Angela's teaching style consisted of her writing problems up on the overhead and solving them as we watched, but she only used the basic examples. Any deviation was up to us to figure out on our own. To say I struggled with her class was an understatement. Through a combination of help from friends and family, answers in the back of the book, and the internet; each year, I passed her class by the skin of my teeth. Then when I was a senior my luck with Ms. Harmon started to run out.
It was the latter part of my senior year, and with the end of my high school career approaching, I was looking ahead to college. I'd applied for several scholarships, and while my grades were for the most part good, math was killing my chances. I'd like to say it was because Angela Harmon was a terrible teacher, but part of the blame was on me for slacking off in her class. Regardless, time was running out and I needed to buckle down. As much as it pained me, I decided the best way to improve my math grade was to swallow my pride and try to ask Ms. Harmon for help. Unfortunately, she usually wasn't the type of teacher to offer extra credit to students. One day after class, I stayed behind and approached her as she was grading papers.
"Excuse me, Ms. Harmon. Do you have a minute?" I asked tentatively.
She glanced up at me, then went right back to grading. "Make it quick Tod," she said annoyed. "My next class is about to start."
Getting right to the point, I explaining to her about the scholarships and how my grades were the only thing hurting my chances. The whole time I spoke, she continued working like I wasn't there, and when I'd finished, she set her pen down and glared up at me.
"Let me get this straight," she said finally. "You screw around in my class for years, doing crappy work, and you have the gall to ask me for help? Tod, I don't even give my A students extra credit. What would possess me to even consider giving it to you?"
By this time, other students were entering the room, and I could hear more than a few of them snickering at the tongue lashing Angela was giving me. All I could do was stare at the woman with my mouth ajar, but Ms. Harmon wasn't finished.
"I think," she continued before I could say anything. "Instead of begging for a handout, you should think back to how you could've been a better student in the first place. Maybe when you're flipping burgers while the rest of your peers are in college you'll understand where you went wrong. Now, if you'll excuse me, Tod, I have a class to teach."
With that, Ms. Harmon stood up and swept past me to take her place at the head of the class as if nothing had happened. All around me, people were laughing, and I could feel my blood boiling as I left the room.
Who the hell did Angela Harmon think she was, that she could humiliate me like that? It would've been bad enough if the room had been empty, but she'd chewed me out in front of a room full of students. The nerve of that bitch. But the worse part was that I'd been so shocked by what the woman said, that I hadn't even able to speak up for myself.
My "conversation" with Ms. Harmon ate at me the rest of the day, and I hoped that I'd be able to curb some of that pent-up anger at baseball practice, but all it did was hurt my game. Even my parents could tell something was off with me that evening. When they asked, I just told them I'd had a bad practice. Besides, I didn't want them going to the school and making a scene. It would only make things worse, so it was my problem to deal with.
When I went to bed that night, my anger at the day's events was still just as fierce. As I finally drifted off to sleep, I couldn't help but wonder what would've happened had I gotten the chance to tell Angela off. I guess it was that thought that triggered the dream.
***
I stood in Ms. Harmon's classroom again, only this time there were no other students around. She'd just started raking me over the coals when I cut her off.
"If you had only been a better student," she chided. "You wouldn't be in this predicament."
I rolled my eyes at her. "Maybe you should've been a better teacher," I retorted, bringing fury to her green eyes. "You spend more time trying to look good and acting like the queen bitch. No wonder I can't learn anything from you."
Angela looked stunned. "How dare you talk to me like that, young man," she said with arrogance. If you were younger, I'd bend you over my knee and paddle you right here."
I smiled indignantly. "I would love to see you try,
Angela
."
Hearing me address her so casually, the woman came unglued. She reached out as if to grab me, but I sidestepped and swatted her hard on the ass.
"I think you're the one who needs the spanking," I told the shocked teacher as she rubbed her stinging anatomy. "And if you keep it up, I'll give you another."
Without a word, Angela bent over the desk. Then reaching down, she hiked up her skirt; revealing a very un-teacher-like black g-string.
"Right here on the other one," she said to me, looking back over her shoulder. "Make it match."
I stood there looking at Ms. Harmon's near, bare ass for a good minute; not yet able to fully comprehend what was happening. The red welt left by my hand emblazoned one side of the woman's perfect ass, while the other was still virgin-smooth.
"What are you waiting for, Tod?" Angela asked impatiently. "Punish me. Make me sorry."
With a tentative hand I reached out and rubbed my teacher's unmarred ass-cheek, causing a small gasp to escape her lips.
"Please," she begged. "I've been sooo bad."
Hearing the desperation in the woman's voice, forced me into action. With one final squeeze, I brought my hand back, and then forward again. The sound of bare skin on skin pierced the air like a firecracker.
"Keep going," Angela moaned with pleasure. "Punish me mooooore."
Obligingly, I continued wailing away on my math teacher's ass; with each smack eliciting another moan of ecstasy from the woman. Eventually, I reached the limits of my endurance and had to stop. As I caught my breath, I was amazed to find Ms. Harmon had at some point pulled her blouse and bra up and was pinching the hell out of one of her nipples. This, combined with the image of the red welts covering Angela's ass, caused my prick to get rock hard.
"Maybe you should use
that
on me." My teacher coaxed, both hands now working her tits.
I was happy to obey. Undoing my jeans, I let them and my underwear drop and then positioned myself behind the squirming teacher. With one hand, I moved the flimsy piece of fabric that were her panties aside. Then, holding my cock with the other, I lined it up with her dripping cunt.
***
Coming out of it, I sat up in bed with the world's biggest hard-on. Had I really just been dreaming about fucking my bitchy teacher? The thought of doing so after what she'd put me through made my head spin, but as I masturbated in the bathroom five minutes later to the fleeting images of Angela's bare red ass, I couldn't help but feel a certain sort of satisfaction.
