"David...? David Johnson..? Is that you?"
I turned to search for the woman calling my name through the crowded auditorium. A tall, attractive black woman approached me from the aisle to my left. I didn't recognize her at first, but from a distance she looked a little like Angela Bassett. She was about 5'10", maybe in her 50s, medium brown skin, slender hips and very large breasts. Her grey-streaked hair was tied up in a bun.
She stopped a few steps away and peered at me over her glasses with one eyebrow raised. That stare suddenly made me recognize my former math teacher. I'd been on the receiving end of that "gaze" on more than a few occasions in her class.
"Mrs. Braxton...?" I smiled as she drew me into a soft, warm hug against her ample breasts.
"Look at you..." she said looking me up and down with an admiring smile. "I guess you turned out alright."
"Is Mrs. B checkin' me out...?" I thought to myself.
We sat and I spent the next 30 minutes giving her a brief run-down of my life over the last twelve years since high school: community college, Air Force, marriage, job, divorce, back to school, teaching certificate and return home.
Last month I was hired as the new guidance counselor at my former high school. Hence why I was here at my first Teacher's Union meeting.
"But what about you?" I asked. "I thought you'd retired."
"From teaching - yes." She answered. "After that I started working for the Union."
We chatted some more until realizing we were the only ones left in the auditorium. We made our way to the parking lot where I walked her to her car.
"Good to see you again, Mrs. Braxton...hope we get to cross paths again."
"Barbara..!" she said waving a finger at me. "Mrs. Braxton was your high school math teacher and our circumstances have changed."
She reached into her bag and retrieved her phone, and gave me the "Braxton stare" again when I didn't immediately react.
"Oh! Phone numbers..." I said taking out my phone and exchanging numbers.
"Same ol' David..." she laughed. "A little slow at first, but you eventually get there."
"That's me..." I smiled.
She pulled me into another wonderfully, cushy hug followed by a quick peck on the cheek before getting into her car. I went home with the faint smell of her perfume, and later that night I jerked off imagining what it would be like to suck on her big, soft titties - I hadn't jerked one to Mrs. B since high school. I've always been a "breast man" and she has always been one of my all-time favorites.
We started exchanging text messages about a week later. "All business" at first - she'd send me Union info or ask how it felt to be back at Brookland High School.
Before long, she started sending me emoji's. Innocent, humorous ones - happy face, thumbs up, fist bump. Eventually they were more "suggestive" -- kissing face, hearts and hugs. She was definitely giving off some flirty vibes.
Feeling emboldened, I sent her a selfie -- my version of the "Braxton stare", with my reading glasses and a raised eyebrow. I was also shirtless, exposing my shoulders and a hint of my pecks.
She responded with her own selfie -- the Braxton stare, also "shirtless", with bare shoulders and an ample amount of cleavage on display, along with the message: "Let me show you how it's done!"
I replied with the message: "Very, very nice! A little lower please..."
She replied: "If you're a good boy - Maybe later", along with a wink emoji.
I was rock-hard by then. I dialed her number.
"Yesss..." she answered in a sultry voice with the hint of a smile.
"Before this goes too far, I suppose I should ask you out to dinner."
She laughed.
"Still a little slow to the gate, Mr. Johnson. I was wondering how long it would take you." Barbara giggled. "I'm free on Friday."
Rather than going out, she offered to cook and suggested dinner at her place. I agreed to be there at 7 with a bottle of Chablis and my appetite.
"And a massive boner..." I smirked as I hung up.
It was hard to think about anything else on Friday. Luckily, I didn't have any sessions on my calendar. Sitting in a small office with a student and a "woodie" didn't seem like a good idea.
I jerked one out the moment I got home, just to take the edge off.
I arrived at her place around a quarter to 7. Barbara opened the door and immediately hit me with the Braxton stare. She wore a grey, pinstripe skirt, white blouse and black flip-flop sandals. Her blouse was open enough to reveal the most exposure of cleavage I'd ever seen from her, which I was especially happy with.
She pulled me into the entryway and drew me into a long, deep hug. I pushed the door closed and countered her hug with a kiss -- long, hard, wet and deep. She seemed a little surprised but didn't resist. I could taste the wine that she'd already had before my arrival.
"Mm mm Hmmm. Very good, David..." she gasped when we parted. "Been thinking about doing that for a while?"
"Maybe." I smiled. "No more 'slow gates'.... I had the feeling that we both wanted to get it out of the way."
She returned my smile and led me to the kitchen. The food smells were incredible and made me realize how hungry I was. I opened and poured the wine and we settled down to dine on the best shrimp and grits I've ever had. The flirting and innuendo continued throughout the meal.
I gathered our plates when we were done, pausing to lean in and kiss her again.
"Delicious..." I whispered. "The food was good, too."
She gave me a playful tap on my butt as I walked to the sink. When I was done with the plates she agreed to give me a tour of her place. Her two bedroom condo was spacious and nicely furnished.
"Bet a lot goes on in here..." I joked as she showed me her bedroom.
"Not enough for me." She confessed.
"Maybe I could help you with that." I added. My still semi-hard dick gave an extra twitch in my shorts.
"Maybe..." she smiled.
I followed her back to the kitchen and we refilled our glasses and stepped out onto the enclosed patio. The sun was just setting.
