The Faulty Projector

The Faulty Projector

Thanks to Cockhole for all of the assistance.

All characters are 18 years of age or older

Brandon Burley stood at his locker, filtering through the heavy textbooks inside. It was Friday morning, and most of his senior-class peers were gearing up for date night or the weekend house party, but this was not the case for him. Nope, instead of kissing girls or binge drinking around a keg, Brandon would likely spend his evening downloading bootleg movies or playing video games. The most exciting thing for him would be if his Dungeons and Dragons group assembled.

At least he had biology class to look forward to. Mrs. Fletcher's biology class was the highlight of his Monday-Wednesday-Friday schedule, and it wasn't because it was his first class of the day. He grabbed his botany textbook, which was their current module. But he wasn't looking forward to learning about which flora was native to the Rocky Mountains. He was looking forward to the Mrs. Fletcher mountains.

Though she didn't exactly show her body off to the students, she didn't need to. It was simply impossible to completely hide curves like hers. Brandon pinned her age to be in her late 30s, maybe into her 40s. She had a conservative style of dress, rarely showing anything below the neck or above the knee. But she didn't need to show skin. Her clothes seemed custom-tailored to fit her like a second skin. Brandon figured she did her best to stay in shape. And he did his best to appreciate that shape as discretely as possible.

To Brandon, Mrs. Fletcher was the perfect MILF fantasy. She had shoulder length blondish-red hair, steely blue almond-shaped eyes, and was a few inches taller than him, probably 5'-7". He didn't know much about woman's measurements, but he estimated each of her breasts to be about the size of a cantaloupe, while he thought of her ass cheeks as the size of volleyballs. She indeed wore mostly DD bras and had a very large, very perky butt.

He excitedly wondered what outfit she'd be wearing today as a tall shadow fell over him from behind.

"I'm gonna need that geometry assignment before lunch, nerd."

Brandon recognized the voice without even having to turn around. He shuddered, then stuffed the botany book into his backpack. Spinning, he slammed his locker shut and turned to face Steve Nolan.

"Don't worry, it will only take me five minutes to complete," he said, attempting to push past the taller boy.

Steve moved to block him. "Don't mess around, Burley. Mr. Sterniolo will have my ass if I'm late with this one."

Brandon lowered his shoulder and forced his way by Steve. "I won't be late."

Steve swiped a hand at the back of Brandon's head, barely swooshing his messy, thick black hair. Brandon smoothed his hair back into place.

"You better not be!" Steve said menacingly as Brandon hurried down the hall.

"Asshole," Brandon said under his breath.

The two boys had been classmates since preschool. At that age, things were simple. They both liked ninja turtles, so they became friends. The friendship continued throughout elementary and middle school. The boys became close with each other and often spent time at one house or another. They grew up almost as brothers. It was that fateful summer between 8

th

and 9

th

grade that really changed things.

Brandon had always been good with computers, so his mother fostered that affinity, sending him to a week-long computer camp. He made friends with other like-minded kids at the camp and generally had enjoyed himself, learning and exploring on computers that were much more powerful than his PC at home.

Steve, meanwhile, had put on 4" of height in that last year of middle school. His parents opted to send him to basketball camp, where he was one of the taller boys. Though he remained skinny, Steve transformed into the aggressive jock he was now, in their senior year. He used his former friend to help him pass academically, as he focused on his athleticism.

The nerd/jock relationship solidified over the years spent in high school. Though each other's respective family still considered them as almost brothers, Brandon viewed Steve as more of a 'frenemy', and he tolerated Steve's bullying attitude. Brandon figured it would be one less jock trying to beat him up, and that maybe Steve would one day lose his asshole attitude.

'But not today,' Brandon thought, opening the door to Mrs. Fletcher's classroom.

He was greeted by the sight of Sandy Fletcher's huge butt in a tight skirt. The plaid material looked stretched to the max over her broad backside. She glanced over her shoulder.

"Brandon, whew, glad you are here," she said with a sigh, turning back to the file cabinet she was bent over and sorting through. "I wasn't sure you'd be here before the rest of the class."

He stared at her curvy ass shamelessly, as she had turned away from him.

"Yep, I'm here, reporting for duty," he joked, shamelessly staring at her butt. He felt as if he spoke directly to her broad backside.

"Ah, here..." she muttered, pulling a binder from the lower drawer. Mrs. Fletcher stood tall and turned to Brandon.

He usually got flustered when she confronted him directly, especially for the first time each day. His face flushed now, as it normally did. She wore a plaid, green and red checked skirt, which hugged her lower body, coming to a tapered opening just below her knees. She wore black heels. His gaze travelled up her body, pausing for only a brief moment to enjoy the enormous swells of her tits in her tight green V-neck sweater. There was even a hint of cleavage.

'How lucky!' he thought.

Glimpsing cleavage on Mrs. Fletcher's huge chest was a rare treat. His gaze took in the creamy suggestive bulges of her breasts, sprinkled with freckles.

Sandy Fletcher was known as a conservative teacher, but also as an advocate of the students. Amiable and matronly, she was a paragon of professionalism. Despite her modest dress, she often felt the eyes of her hormone-fueled students roaming her body. Brandon Burley was among the worst at hiding his lusty gaze. She could tell her body mesmerized the poor boy. But she had a soft spot for him. He was her favorite student and was very helpful with technical matters, something she often struggled with. She considered him a blessing and an ally.

"We'll be covering photosynthesis, today, Brandon. Can you get the projector screen set up for me?"

"Sure thing, Mrs. Fletcher," he said cheerfully.

He placed a chair below the pull-down handle for the screen at the front of the room. Mrs. Fletcher probably could have reached it for him, if he'd asked. But Brandon stepped up onto the chair before she could offer and pulled the screen down. The teacher turned from him to prepare for the class. Brandon took the opportunity to observe her cleavage again, from higher above this time. His turgid cock swelled enough to create a noticeable shape in his shorts. He got down quickly as the rest of the class began filtering in.

Class began as normal, with Brandon setting everything up while Mrs. Fletcher introduced the topics of the lesson. He made his way to his seat as the tall auburn-haired teacher dimmed the lights. The students fell into silence obediently.

Brandon had already memorized this section of the book, so he absently took notes to keep up appearances, but his real focus was on his teacher's hot body. He had only been to first base with a girl, and his mind ran wild with fantastical thoughts about Mrs. Fletcher. His stiffening erection was begging for attention, starting to strain in his shorts. He resolved himself to making mental pictures of her most suggestive poses to use as masturbation motivation once he got home.

Mrs. Fletcher worked through the lesson. She enjoyed this particular topic and was happy with the level of engagement of her students.

"That's right, Monica. Even evergreen trees photosynthesize!"

She clicked the remote to change slides, but the projector did not respond. She pressed the button on the remote again, and again it had no effect.

She frowned, popping the battery out of the remote and re-inserting it. She tried the button, then sighed. With a huff, she crossed to the back of the classroom to the half-cubicle that housed the projector cabinet.

"...darn thing must be older than most of you..." she muttered to a mild response of the students.

Several whispers and the scraping of chairs could be heard as the class shuffled awkwardly. Mrs. Fletcher knew she was losing their attention. She smacked on the large panel button on the back projector and it whirred as if to change slides but froze.

"Darn it!" she hissed, drawing her hand back, then swung again with force. She hit her flat palm hard on the button and the slide switched, but there was a sharp -CRACK-.

Mrs. Fletcher frowned again, looking at the broken pieces of the button. She had hit it too forcefully. The two thin plastic pieces that had been the button fell into the cavity. The contact nub was several inches inside the machine.

"Brandon, be a dear and have a look at the projector for me?" Mrs. Fletcher said in a commanding tone, but with a hint of sweetness.

"Yes, Mrs. Fletcher." Brandon's face flushed as he rose dutifully and strode to the cubicle in the rear of the classroom that housed the projector cabinet.

A mocking murmur sounded from the class. Muted "ooohs" and giggles permeated the room. Everyone knew Brandon was Mrs. Fletcher's "teacher's pet".

"That's enough!" Mrs. Fletcher admonished the class. Silence was restored.

Brandon reached her side and flipped on the surface light to illuminate the projector in its cabinet. The rest of the room remained dark. Hushed mutterings could be heard as students exchanged whispers, their attention waning.

"Class, please flip to the worksheet at the end of the section. Begin answering the 'challenge' questions as best you can until we can finish the lesson," she instructed.

Brandon was reaching into the cavity where the button pieces had disappeared. He had two fingers jammed in, trying to feel for the contact nub.

"The button is smashed, ma'am," he reported, probing inside with his middle and index fingers. "I can't quite reach the contact."

"Here, let me see," Mrs. Fletcher slid up next to him and crouched down, peering inside the cavity. "Its too dark..." She faced up at him, crouching below him. "See if you can shine your phone light in there..."

Brandon looked down at his teacher's almond shaped eyes behind her dark-framed glasses. He tried not to imagine how soft her crimson, bee-stung lips would feel. Her face was right above his crotch. Below her upturned face, he could see down the front of her sweater and his gaze fell to her deep, supple cleavage, spotting the birthmark again. He reached into his pocket, fumbling for his phone, as he stared down the V-neck of her sweater. Groping for his phone, he took a moment to palm his spongey, thickening head from inside the pocket of his shorts. His resolve to control himself melted away, staring down at her freckled cleavage.

Mrs. Fletcher watched her young student fiddling in his pocket as he blatantly ogled her bulging chest. He was a sweet boy and meant well but was easily distracted. His gaze made her consider her choice of outfit. She had ordered the new sweater online and when she tried it on, it fit like a dream. The online model that was about her size had not shown cleavage. When Sandy tried it on, bra or not, the neck was just a bit too deep and showed her breasts.

'It's only a small bit of cleavage,' she'd told herself at the time. Well, that had been an oversight. The view was obviously too much for Brandon to focus, with his vantage above her.

She rose to stand. "Stop playing around in your pocket and get your phone, Mr. Burley." She spoke to him in a low tone, then turned to address the class. "Students, please concentrate. Extra credit for any insightful answers!"

As a notoriously stingy grader, Mrs. Fletcher's students knew that an opportunity for extra credit was a special thing. Almost immediately, the classroom din quieted and most of the class hunched over their desks, scribbling wildly.

Mrs. Fletcher turned back to Brandon. He had managed to produce his phone. As she watched, his phone light ignited. His eyes raised from the screen to look up at his slightly taller teacher.

"Here, slide back behind me and see if you can shine the light in..." she instructed, crouching again as Brandon moved behind her.

He stared down at the top of her strawberry hair, holding his phone over her shoulder. Brandon did what he could to help illuminate the cavity, but his eyes were drawn magnetically to her cleavage shelf. His vantage point above and behind her afforded him an excellent view. Even more of her boob flesh was visible. He watched the supple tops of her tits ripple as she explored the broken button hole. Brandon struggled to control himself as his erection strained in his jeans. The bulge expanded, growing over the top of Mrs. Fletcher's head. She continued to investigate, oblivious.

Mrs. Fletcher wiggled the index finger from each hand into the cavity. She couldn't reach the contact nub. Leaning down further, she examined the depths.

Covertly, Brandon managed to open the camera function without turning off the flashlight. He captured a blurry image of the top of her head and her cleavage, then zoomed in a bit more. With the side of her face perched over a clear shot of her tit-flesh, he took another pic, this time clear and steady.

"The nub is in there, Brandon. You can push it with something firm. It needs to be longer and thicker than my fingers." She scooted back and felt something firm and tubular against the top of her head. She gazed back and up at her student. She glimpsed his face over his tented jeans. "A little space?"

Brandon flinched when she bumped his bulged crotch. "Oh, uh, right..." he mumbled, stepping back and fumbling with his phone.

'Oh my God, Mrs. Fletcher just touched it over my jeans!' he thought excitedly.

Mrs. Fletcher stood and turned to him. She glanced over to a pack of magic markers next to the projector, then grabbed one of them. Brandon slid his phone into his pocket and tried to discretely adjust his heavy erection. He hoped his teacher didn't notice.

"Here, try one of these," she instructed, glancing down as she placed the marker into his open palm. His other hand was in his pocket and she saw the obvious motion inside his pants crotch. He seemed emboldened today, odd for Brandon. She cleared her throat and made eye contact with her student.

"And try to keep up, huh?"

"Yes, ma'am."

He watched her brush past him as she made her way out of the small cubicle. Her perky butt wobbled invitingly in her tight skirt. Inside his pocket, he squeezed the base of his shaft. He tried to close his palm over his wide head, but it was jutting out too far, beyond the reach of the hand in his pocket.

'I don't think I've ever been so hard...' Brandon thought, swallowing nervously.

Mrs. Fletcher ascended to the front of the room. "Ok, sorry about that guys," she said with a hint of a smile. "Pencils DOWN."

A disappointed buzz fell over the students. Heads lifted and eyes were drawn to her as she continued where she'd left off.

"I will review your answers after class. For now, let's try to get through the lesson. So, we were taking a look at the 6 steps of photosynthesis. The first three are light dependent..." Mrs. Fletcher used the laser pointer to help the students follow along.

Brandon watched her standing against the illuminated image from the projection. She stood in profile, giving him and the rest of the class a good look at the shape of her curvy bust and backside, highlighted in the darkened room. Her hourglass figure was exaggerated by the contrast. He imagined her naked. Many of the other students were doing the same.

"...light hits the pigmented membrane, splitting into oxygen and water..." she continued.

Brandon fidgeted, struggling to concentrate. He had adjusted his erection so that his right hand could squeeze his mushroom tip inside his pocket. In his left, he still held the magic marker. Knowing he should be ready to change slides, he slid the marker into the square cavity where the button had been. Probing as deep as he could, he waved it around to see if he could feel the contact nub. No luck.

"Next slide, Brandon," Mrs. Fletcher said, crossing to the other side of the screen.

Brandon pushed the marker in as far as he could, pinching it between his index and middle finger. He strained to fish in deeper. The tip swiped only air inside the projector. He inched the marker to the tips of his fingers, poking it as deep as he could. Just as he thought he felt contact, his fingers slipped, and he dropped the marker. It fell into the machine with a soft clatter.

Mrs. Fletcher crossed her arms over her large breasts. "Brandon, next slide whenever you are ready..."

"Ju- just a minute, ma'am," he said nervously.

He hastily grabbed another marker and guided it into the square cavity. It slid in and Brandon pushed it deeper. In his rush, the marker slipped and fell to join the first one in the depths of the machine with a clatter.

"Mr. Burley..." the teacher said, smirking now and tapping the toe of her high heel on the tiled floor.

'Shit, I know my cock is longer than those darn markers...' Brandon gripped his turgid shaft, trying to focus, but he felt aroused beyond his limits.

"...we're waiting..." Mrs. Fletcher's voice rang out.

'Can I use my dick? I bet no one would notice...' he considered. The shape and length of his erection were at the front of his mind as he played with himself. Brandon knew he needed to act fast. Should he try another marker?

'Fuck it...'

Without further thought, Brandon did his best to quietly lower his zipper. The projector cubicle had a low wall that the machine projected over. Standing behind the projector cabinet, and because he was on the shorter side, only Brandon's upper torso was visible over the wall. He popped open his boxer slit and his eager cock practically freed itself. He slowly eased it out and looked down at the thick, hard meat in his hand.

"Brandon, please..." She looked at him harshly.

His heart was pounding, and he'd never been so erect. He looked up at his cougar teacher. She looked so unbelievably hot, staring at him sternly. Going for broke, Brandon looked down, aimed his cock into the square hole and pushed it in, stepping up against the back of the projector. He felt the warm, stale air of inside the machine on his dick. Inching forward, he hoped and prayed with his entire being that he'd find the nub.

Suddenly, there it was, firm, smooth, and warm against his tip. He thrust into the machine and flexed his cock. He felt the nub depress against his swollen crown.

"Listen, young man, today is not the-" Mrs. Fletcher was cut off as the slide changed with a click. They made eye contact.

Brandon smirked awkwardly, squaring up to the projector cabinet as he held his dick inside.

"Oh, ok, there we go." Mrs. Fletcher went on to explain the next slide.

Brandon held the boxy projector as if it were a woman's hips, though he was a virgin and had no idea how to hold a woman's hips. His head swam, either due to all the blood pumping through his other head, or due to the fact that he was watching his sexy teacher with his cock out, penetrating a 20-year-old faulty projector. The situation was absurd, and it did nothing to dull his arousal. He was drawing sexual pleasure from his teacher's guidance.

"...bringing the electrons down to enzymes," she continued. "Next slide, please."

Brandon thrust into the machine. His tip smashed against the warm nub, changing the slides. The projector wobbled slightly with his thrust. Brandon sighed. The firm collision made his balls tighten. Though he'd never had sex, or even as much as a blowjob, he'd jerked off plenty of times. The sensation he felt made him wonder if he was leaking precum inside the machine.