Tyler's Teacher

**All characters are fictional and are 18 years of age or older.**

"Tyler!" said Mrs. Zimmermann sternly. Tyler winced. "Give me your phone."

Her high heels clicked on the hard floor as she moved quickly across to him and snatched the offending device from his hands before he could lock it.

"If you're going to insist on texting in class, the class is going to hear what you have to say." She pulled up the message, adjusted her glasses, and began to read aloud. "Mrs. Z is a..." she stopped, not willing to read the word "cunt" aloud in class. Her face turned red and she stared angrily at Tyler.

"You have earned yourself a week of detention, sir. I will be letting the headmaster know about this, and I'm keeping this phone until after school!" With that, she slipped Tyler's phone into her desk drawer and went back to the board.

Tyler couldn't help but admire her looks. Elizabeth Zimmermann was 42 and aging well. At five feet four inches and 115 pounds, she was about two inches shorter than Tyler. Her shapely legs were emphasized by her affinity for high heels and nylons, even in summer. She preferred skirts to pants. Today she was wearing a patterned gray skirt and an ivory silk blouse, along with black stockings and four inch heels. The skirt flattered her butt and hips, pulling snugly across them as she moved. Likewise, her blouse complemented her 32D cleavage. A pearl necklace and a pair of dangly diamond-studded earrings completed the look. Although at school she always kept it in a neat professional bun,the straight hair that fell to her mid-back was a shade of light brown that was beginning to go gray.

Elizabeth was the best math teacher in the district, and certainly the most strict. Everyone who had taken her class had found her classroom rules to be annoyingly demanding and her homework and tests were legendary for their difficulty. She prided herself in her ability to teach math to anyone, often going out of her way to reintroduce and reinforce concepts from grades past. She really loved her students, especially the boys, though she kept her strict, almost angry, demeanor with everyone.

Tyler was one of the ones whom she most wanted to help. He was clearly suffering from a rough home life. His homework, when he did turn it in, was sloppy and showed that he was struggling to keep up. In fact, he was not keeping up at all, but falling behind to the point that she wasn't sure if he could actually finish the class. She knew he needed this class to graduate. At 18, he was already a year behind his peers, having been held back once or twice in middle and high school.

He was also cute, with short brown hair that he kept in a messy style and dark brown eyes. He was always clean shaven and his tan skin looked so soft and kissable. He didn't have much visible hair on his arms or legs so Elizabeth hoped that meant he had little hair on his chest too. She liked boys who weren't big enough to be jocks but who were at least an inch or two taller than her. Tyler looked to be five feet, six inches, though she doubted he weighed more than 130 pounds. She idly wondered about the size of his cock as she wrote out a homework problem on the board. Boys who didn't have much experience were especially a turn-on because she could teach them how to be good lovers rather than having to put up with whatever bad habits they had picked up from their equally inexperienced girlfriends. She hadn't seen him talking to many girls, and certainly didn't appear to have dated much.

She turned and faced the class, waiting for them to copy down the problem. She glanced at Tyler, who was scribbling in his notebook. She had plans for him, though he didn't know it yet.

Tyler felt Mrs. Zimmermann's gaze on him and surreptitiously glanced at her. The way she was standing accentuated her figure and he started to get hard. He'd like bang her for sure. Maybe a good fucking would make her loosen up. He squirmed in his seat, finishing his notes as the bell rang. The room was instantly chaos as twenty-two other students gathered their belongings and left, chattering all the while. Tyler just sat there, dreading what was going to happen next.

Mrs. Zimmermann waited for the last student to leave before moving over to Tyler's desk. "Tyler, you're falling behind. You haven't kept up with the homework, and your grades are suffering. You need this class to graduate, and I would hate to have to hold you back another year just for this class. This is on top of your behavior in class, which is disruptive and disrespectful. Calling me awful names behind my back is grounds for suspension, and coupled with everything else, for expulsion. You really don't want that."

Tyler looked down at his desk, enjoying the glimpse of his teacher's nylon-clad leg as she stood before him. Mrs. Zimmermann smelled amazing, a mixture of her perfume and the sweat of the day from being in a hot, stuffy classroom since morning. His cock stirred despite the trouble he was in. He shifted uncomfortably, hoping she didn't notice the growing tent in his shorts.

"Tyler, you're going to stay an extra hour after class every day and work with me until you are caught up. Judging from your test scores, we need to back up quite a ways."

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled. It wasn't like he had any choice, or even anything else to do.

She slapped a worksheet onto his desk. "Begin with this. If you need help, let me know."

Mrs. Zimmermann returned to her desk to begin her daily planning and grading session. Having him stay an hour after school would be good. Perhaps he could get at least his math homework done and she'd have a cute boy to watch. She had indeed seen the effect she was having on his shorts. It was so cute when they acted out in an attempt to get her attention; doubly so when they were too awkward to actually do anything about it when she gave it to them.

The hour dragged on. Tyler watched Mrs. Zimmermann cross and uncross her legs, hoping for a glance up her skirt and wondered what color panties she was wearing. She sat and ignored him, working on something of her own. Eventually, she casually spread her legs open, seemingly unaware that her skirt had ridden up far enough that he could catch a glimpse of her upper thigh and the lacy tops of her stockings. She idly twisted her desk chair a bit, caught up in the paperwork before her. Meanwhile, Tyler was having a hard time containing his excitement. He realized he had been holding his breath and let it out slightly too loudly. He froze, staring at his paper, wondering if she had heard him. But she continued to be engrossed in her work and seemed to pay him no mind. He carefully stole another glance, finally catching a brief glimpse of teal between her legs. His poor cock was now as fully erect as it could be in the confines of his shorts.

He finally finished his worksheet and began the next one. Mrs. Zimmermann sat more still now, straighter, the peep show over. Every time she moved, however, Tyler couldn't help but look, hoping to see more.

Finally the hour was up and Tyler began to gather his books and papers. When Mrs. Zimmermann met him at the door, his phone in her hand, Tyler couldn't help but notice her nipples, pressed hard against the fabric of her blouse. She saw him looking and touched his chin, pulling his gaze up to her blue eyes.

"Here's your phone," she said, but there was a softness in her voice that he hadn't heard often at all. "Don't be on it in class and quit calling me awful names. I'm not going to report it to the headmaster this time, but I will confiscate it again if you keep letting it distract you. I meant what I said about study hall, though. You're way behind, and I would hate to have you miss graduation when we can catch you up. So from now until you're caught up, you'll stay after class, and I will tutor you."

Tyler nodded, grateful that she wasn't going to report him to the headmaster. He didn't want to be suspended as his father would doubtlessly beat him should that happen.

"And quit trying to look up my skirt," she finished. Tyler blushed. She had seen him after all.

"Yes, I saw you looking. You're much more obvious than you think."

The next afternoon, Mrs. Zimmermann came and sat very close to Tyler, helping him with a private lesson. As they worked, she kept touching him in casual ways. She bumped his arm several times during the hour. She dropped her pen and leaned against him as she retrieved it. She patted him on the shoulder, and her boob gently brushed his arm as she explained a concept. It was all small, low-level stuff, but Tyler was hyper aware and very receptive to her touch. He loved the way she smelled, the way she looked, even her voice as she spoke to him. He hoped she would keep this up and wondered if he needed to pretend to not understand so she would work with him longer.

A few weeks went by. Every day Tyler stayed after math class and Mrs. Zimmermann helped him. When it was just the two of them, she was much more relaxed, laughing at his corny jokes. She sat very close to him, usually touching, as they worked problems together. Sometimes, if she was standing near his desk, she would lean over and let a boob graze his shoulder, or bend over in such a way that he could see down her blouse. It was all very deniable, of course. She rather enjoyed the way he reacted; he would get increasingly awkward as he got more and more aroused. Yet he was also learning and beginning to actually grasp the material. Maybe he was going to pass after all.

Their conversations, aside from those relating to class, occasionally strayed into sexual topics. Elizabeth had made a few "that's what she said" jokes on random things he had said, provoking laughter every time. Another day, he noted that the curve for the graph of a particular math function looked a lot like a penis. She joked that it was more of a dick than she had seen in a while. Other little comments or short exchanges dripped with innuendo, though she was careful to keep things from going too far. With all of them she gauged his response and whether he might be open to more.

As March slowly turned to April and then moved towards May, Tyler couldn't help but dream about bending Mrs. Z over her desk and fucking her brains out. One Wednesday, she wore a navy blue dress and white sheer pantyhose to class rather than her usual pencil skirt and blouse ensemble. The dress was mid-calf length and he fantasized that she would spread her legs and give him a view during the afternoon study hall. Another day, Mrs. Z wore a dark red, flowy, floral-patterned skirt with nude stockings, white heels, and an ivory blouse. She spent a lot of the day twirling as she moved around the classroom, letting her skirt swirl with her. It was exciting to watch.

The rest of the time, Mrs. Z dressed in her usual business skirts, blouses, stockings, heels, and blazers. It was conservative in some ways, though her choice of high heels and nylon colors were definitely more risque. To Tyler her style was a siren song. He longed to kneel before her and kiss her pantyhosed feet, or to lift her skirt and lick her pussy. He jerked off each night fantasizing about stealing her panties or snuggling between her boobs when they were all sweaty from exercise or working outside. At school, he tried to play it cool, and mostly succeeded. But inside he was crushing hard on Mrs. Z, and he wondered if she could tell.

Elizabeth Zimmerman could indeed tell he had a crush on her and was pleased with the way things were going. She decided she was ready for the next step.

"Tyler, just a second," she said one Friday as they were about to leave. He inhaled the delicious scent of her perfume and waited, anxious to see what she would say. She laid her hand on his arm.

"Would you be interested in earning some money? I have some yard work that I need help with this weekend and I think you'd be perfect for it." She squeezed his bicep. "You're strong! I need a strong young man like you. You can go for a swim in my pool after if you like."

Tyler couldn't believe Mrs. Z was inviting him to her house. Of course he was interested. She gave him her address and phone number on a slip of paper and patted him on the shoulder. "Be there at nine tomorrow. Thank you!"

The next morning, Tyler rode the bus and walked to her house. Being in south Florida meant that it was already hot, even in May. It was a sunny day and people up and down the street were out working in their yards, washing cars, or just enjoying the day. He found her house and rang the bell. He could hear the hum of her air conditioner and birds chirping, while the dull roar of a lawn mower down the block rounded out the sounds of early summer.

When Elizabeth opened the door Tyler was surprised to see her out of her usual business clothes.. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was wearing a gray sports bra, matching yoga pants, and a pair of bright purple trainers. He immediately felt his cock begin to grow.

"Uhh, h-hello, Mrs. Z," he began, awkwardly. She cut him off.

"Come on in, Tyler. Put your bag there," pointing to a small table near the door. "Do you need anything before we get started?"

Still slightly bewildered, Tyler shook his head. He was impressed by her home. A spacious living area opened off the entry with big windows overlooking the backyard and pool. She led him through the living room, through the kitchen, and out the back door onto the patio. The yard was mostly a flower garden, but with a few grassy areas, especially around the swimming pool. In a pond filled with lily pads and goldfish, a fountain murmured quietly to itself.

Elizabeth showed him what she was doing and handed him some tools. Over the course of the morning they spread mulch, repotted several plants, dug up and replanted several others, and mowed the grass. She enjoyed watching Tyler work. She especially enjoyed watching him watch her. He evidently appreciated what he was seeing because he seemed to be fighting a hard-on and was always looking away as she glanced at him.

Around lunchtime, she declared a break. She led him inside and sat him at the bar in the kitchen. "Lemonade?" she asked. He agreed and she made them each a glass. "I ordered a pizza," she said. "Should be here soon. I hope you like pepperoni."

Tyler looked around her kitchen and great room. From his vantage point at the bar he could see the steps that led up to an open walkway on the second floor. Several doors, either closets or bedrooms, opened onto the walkway, while further along a hallway led to the main bedroom.

"How about a tour while we wait?" Elizabeth asked.

"Sure, I'd like that," Tyler said. Together they walked through the house, with her showing him the guest bedroom and ensuite bathroom on the first floor, the half bath near the front door, the spacious butler's pantry attached to the kitchen, and the home office. She led him up the steps, being sure to let him watch her butt gently jiggling as she climbed the stairs.

Tyler was looking for signs that a man lived there, and so far he found nothing. Family photos just showed Elizabeth and another girl about Tyler's age or Elizabeth and what looked to be her parents, or other family members. Upstairs was no different. There were three bedrooms on the top story, one being the main bedroom and bath, another being a guest room, and one clearly decorated for a teenage girl.

"My daughter's room," Elizabeth said simply. "She's away at college. She's going with friends to California for a few weeks in June, but maybe you can meet her when she comes home for Independence Day.

In the main bedroom, Tyler couldn't see any men's clothes or belongings anywhere. He decided she must be divorced, but was too shy to ask about it.

The bell rang, signaling the pizza's arrival. Over lunch, Elizabeth and Tyler talked about his home life. He revealed that his parents were divorced; that his mother had died of a drug overdose when he was very young, and his father, Bruce, was an alcoholic who was mean to him and his sister most of the time. He explained that they didn't have very much because his father kept getting fired for being drunk on the job. Although it was hard to talk about, Tyler found himself opening up to Elizabeth in a way he never had with anyone else.

They finished lunch and went back out and spent the next few hours digging a trench for a drainage pipe, and moving flowers and shrubs as needed. It was hot, back-breaking work, but Tyler was enjoying it. Mrs. Z smelled and looked amazing, and she was teasing him about how dirty he was getting.

They finished the ditch and laid the pipe before refilling it, carefully covering the dirt with mulch. "It's a little after three," she said, looking at her phone. "How about we put away the tools, change, and jump in the pool?"

That sounded marvelous to Tyler, so Elizabeth showed him where to put the shovels, hedge trimmer, and other tools before they went inside. "You can change in this guest room," she said, pointing to the one on the first floor. "I'll meet you outside in just a minute."

Tyler went into the indicated room and changed into his swim trunks, then realizing he had forgotten to pack a set of clean clothes for after the pool. Oh, well. He'd work it out later.

Elizabeth came down as Tyler was heading to the back door, wearing a black one-piece swimsuit that really flattered her figure. Over that she wore a long, blue cotton coverup cut like a long dress shirt. She had left it unbuttoned, and had rolled the sleeves part way up her forearms, a look that Tyler found particularly alluring. Her flip-flops showed off her bright red toenails and beautiful feet. She caught him smiling as he looked at her.

"What?" she asked, with an air of false innocence. She knew he liked what he saw, but she also enjoyed putting him on the spot and bringing out his awkwardness.

"Uh, nothing, sorry," he stammered, looking away. She smiled at him behind his back. She was just as enamored by his tight, tanned chest with its small, thin patch of hair just below the collarbone. She desperately wanted to kiss him there.

"You go on out and jump in," she said. "I'll bring drinks."

Soon they were floating in the pool and talking, enjoying the cool water after their hot, strenuous work. Tyler leaned back in his inflatable seat and allowed the sensation of the water lapping on his body to relax his muscles. Elizabeth floated nearby, straddling a couple of pool noodles that let her sit lower in the water.

"I really appreciate you helping me today," she said. "I'll pay you before you go. Would a hundred and fifty be okay?"

A hundred and fifty dollars was a lot more than he had been expecting. Tyler hadn't seen that much at once in quite a while. Still, he shook his head.

"That's too much," he said. "Bruce will just take it and buy more booze."

"Bruce?" she asked, confused.

"My father," Tyler explained. "I don't call him dad because he doesn't give a shit about me. He just wants to stay drunk and fuck his girlfriend."

"How awful!" Elizabeth exclaimed, a concerned look on her face. "He would take your money?"

Tyler nodded. "Yeah, he does it all the time. He told me before I came over that I owe him back for all he's had to spend on me, and that if I came home with more than twenty bucks he was going to take it."

"Wow. He sounds like a real winner." Elizabeth paused, thinking. "Okay, how about this... I'll pay you what I want to pay you, but I'll keep it for you. I'll give you twenty to take home so it looks like you've earned a little something, but the rest is safe with me. The Bank of Zimmermann, yeah?" She laughed.

That sounded good to Tyler. "Thank you, Mrs. Z. I really appreciate it."

"It's nothing," she replied, "And you can call me Lizzy when we're not at school, okay?"