The Girl's Gym Teacher

Everyone in this story is 18 or older

Rodd had the ball and had already dribbled it past Steven and got into the net just as the buzzer cried out. Our team collectively moaned while others fell from exhaustion. We were all waiting in the gym for the bell after we gout out of the locker room. The coach told me he had to talk to me before the bell rang.

"I'm sure you've heard about Mrs. Smith?" he asked.

"Yeah she had a bad injury on her foot or ankle," I replied, wondering where this was leading.

"She needs your help after school," he said.

"me?" I asked dumbfounded.

"Yes, you. I don't have anyone else to send," he replied.

Mr. S was the girls' gym teacher. She had led the girls into several wins and awards fro the past seven years. She even knew some people that would donate extra supplies, evens stuff outside of athletic equipment, like spotlights for school plays. She also organized the school's charity events.

She was about as tall as the average guy, in her late thirties with chestnut hair, really fit and athletic. Most of the guys thought she was hot. but I don't think any of them would be willing to help her out nonetheless.

"I don't know if I can be that much help" I said trying to look for an excuse.

"Look, it's just a couple of hours, three at most, on the weekends. She's done a lot for the school and the athletic department. The least you could do is help her out a few hours every week," he said.

There was no arguing with him at this point, I could tell I was starting to piss him off. I wouldn't put it past him to start benching me or forcing to clean up the lockers or locker rooms.

Seeing my deflated face," he said, "734 Pallet road, do you think you can get there without causing a scene?"

"Yeah," I simply replied.

I got to the house and knocked a couple of times without hearing so much as a peep. I rang the doorbell, and the door swung open. She was wearing a black tank and blue short shorts. Her was in a bun instead of the familiar ponytail.

"Sorry, it takes me a while to get to the door, It's Kyle, right?" she asked.

"Yeah," I replied, trying to sound enthusiastic about being here.

"Why don't you meet me out back and I'll show you what needs to be done," she replied.

The backyard seemed to be mostly grass, besides the stone porch. The grass had a shed, fire pit, but mostly consisted of sections of what looked like plants or vegetation.

She told me that the old potatoes had to be pulled out and replaced with new seed potatoes. I then had to plant flowers after digging up three new areas. Before that I had to use long stakes and strings to form grids separating all the flowers, it was getting hot so I took off my shirt half way through.

As I was about to finish, she called me over. She seemed to have replaced her tank top with a sports bra.

"Everything okay?" I asked, assuming I must have made some mistake and wondering where.

"I have some lemonade for you, I don't want you to get dehydrated" she said.

"It hasn't completely immobilized me. I just can't bend over. Besides this is just the store bought kind with some ice," she laughed.

I drank the lemonade and it really did hit the spot. I couldn't help but feel like she was admiring my chest. But maybe she was just appreciating my physique in a non romantic way, considering she was really into fitness.

She told me to use the hose to wash off my hands and use a rag from the shed to clean my hands before I left. It really wasn't all that much physical work, but it was really all new for me and it was really hot. So I fell asleep not too long after arriving home.

This other time I dug up her roses and replanted in another section of the garden. Another time I tore down the old shed and rebuilt one using some blueprints she provided. I didn't know if she had designed it by herself or if someone did it for her. I snipped the shrubs and the grass closest to the sections of the garden. She would come check up on my work every now and again. She would alternate between wearing shirts and skirts.

One day as she was checking up on my work she groaned out in pain.

"I think I stretched a muscle," was her reply when I immediately asked what was wrong. I put one her arm over my head as she hobbled towards the back porch. I told her I didn't mind helping out and started messaging it.

I'd give her messages whenever I finished my work on days I noticed she felt uncomfortable. I'd move from her clad to her thighs. One day I'd move to her inner thighs. Going as far as cupping and kneading them. And as they say inched on, I'd rub her panties or rub in between her thighs with the back of my hand. A slight graze. I did this several times one day. And her panties started to become more and more wet. I started to increase the amount of times as well as the length of the grazes alternating between two parts of her upper thigh. She started breathing more heavily. I decided to go for it at this point and started lapping her covered mound. That's when she let out a heavy deep groan and threw her head back.

She just breathed heavily as I started licking up and down before putting my tongue in there more and more.

"Where did that young man of yours go?" asked her husband in a strong voice.

This was probably the most terrifying moment of my life. What was he going to do next? I couldn't even see him.

"Oh, it was getting hot and he had to help his dad out with something today, so he left early." she said. "Speaking of early, I don't think you've ever finished work so early."

I started to reflex a bit, realizing that he didn't see me from his point of view. I still couldn't believe she was talking to him so casually. I was shaking like a leaf. Maybe if I focused on something else I thought, as I started licking her panty mound and noticed her tense up.

"I needed to grab some documents, but thought I'd check out here to see how everything was going," he said.

"That's my man," she happily said.

"Love you too," he said as he left.

As soon as she heard the back door close she thumped me on the back of the head, "What do you think you were doing!" she said.

"I'm sorry, I just couldn't resist," I said.

I licked faster and faster while rubbing her clit with my hand. She crushed my head with her thighs, drowning me in her nectar. I drank and drank as my life depended on it. After what felt like going through a waterfall, she let go and we were both gasping for air. I then left the underside of her skirt and gave her a few pecks on the neck, cheek, and lips, as I eagerly pulled my pants down. Just as I was positioned into the entrance, she pushed me away at my chest "Not here" she said, "not where everyone can see us." She then ran into the house, and I stayed in place from the shock before running in after her.

I followed her thumping footsteps up stars and into the marital room, and fell on top of her. I moved her white satin panties to the side before starting thrusting into her with all my stamina. I made sure to knead her ass every now and again. Not too long after, I could start feeling myself pulsing. She just threw her head back and started laughing. And I came more than I'd ever come before. I felt like an empty can of toothpaste.

We'd have more tryst like these, but it definitely never happened all the time. She divorce her husband and I moved in with her. We signed a prenup, in her favor because she had a lot more to lose than I did. I attended the local college.

We'd have sex but it was different than our initial passionate love making. It would be far more slow and always start with kissing. When I started grouping her breast or ass, she'd move my hands back down to her hips. We'd kiss for what felt like half an hour before she'd let me grope her. We'd still just be kissing. After about and half an hour she'd let me move onto stripping. And even then she wanted to keep kissing. When we finally got our clothes off, she'd always want to go slows instead of the rough and hard fucking which I would have liked. She'd let me fuck her on the her side, and even be doing the work from the top.

One day after making love, she asked, "there's no wrong answer, which do you like more slow and sensual or rough pounding"

"I like the fucking," I replied.

She laughed and smacked my chest.

It was only on my birthday that she'd let me fuck her in whatever position that I wanted.