Lessons for the Teacher

As the warm winds of May hinted at approaching summer, most members of Miss Walker's senior class were more distracted than ever, their young minds wandering far from her grammatical illustrations on the chalkboard. Julie Walker, age 26, was still freshly dedicated to her field and pursued its aspirations in earnest, but had always found it a struggle to assume control of her high-school subjects; her tone of authority was undermined by her petite stature, which left her physically smaller than many of her charges. And it seemed that when she did get their attention, anyone's attention for that matter, they were generally distracted by her stunning figure, something she endeavored to conceal with prim, loose-fitting outfits, just as she hid the long silkiness of her blond hair in a carefully coiffured bun.

Despite these measures, most people continued to regard her as merely a cute little girl, an ineffectual little girl, she thought, just as her father always had. But she was undaunted in spirit, determined to show them all that she could get it right. Still, on that day especially, her gerunds and participles held near-zero interest for her class, all apparently daydreaming of dates and cars and games of sport. This was frustrating for Miss Walker, so she cast her anxious eyes about to find a volunteer for the blackboard. Ah...there, Billy Sullivan, a typical jock who had yet to display a serious attitude toward learning, despite the fact that he had just turned 18 and was certainly college bound in the fall. Even now he appeared to have his mind occupied with looking up the short skirt of the girl sitting two desks back from him. Really, how many times has he dropped that pen anyway? He'd do. "Mr. Sullivan, would you come to the board, please...Mr. Sullivan?"

The football hero jumped back around in his chair, startled and near dumbstruck. "Uh, Miss Walker?"

"Yes, Mr. Sullivan?"

Billy squirmed in his chair. "Uh, you want me to come up there...now?"

"Please, Mr. Sullivan."

Slowly the young player rose from his desk. A bit hunched over was he, clumsily clutching his textbook close to him and presenting quite a contrary demeanor for the tall, boisterous athlete who bounded through the hallways with a powerful, cocky stride. Upon meekly passing through the titters of his classmates, Billy picked up a piece of chalk with one hand, the other balancing the book against his waist.

"You shouldn't need your textbook for this, Mr. Sullivan." Julie was growing impatient. "Here, let me set that down for you," she insisted, prying the book from his fingers to reveal to her and the startled class his quite obvious erection. Soft gasps and sharp laughs sounded as Miss Walker herself was wide-eyed and quite speechless, her mouth gaping. Billy spun back around to the board did his best to conceal his overture in tight jeans. Finally the friendly imps of his fate rang the 2:30 bell, and 24 teenagers displayed the gamut of their generation's emotions while rushing out the door to their next hour of boredom. Once the classroom had emptied to the student and the teacher, Miss Walker regained her composure somewhat. "Are you alright?" She slowly approached the nervous young man holding himself against the board, the chalked words impressing the sleeves of his letter jacket.

"I...can't go out there," Billy whispered loudly. "Not like this."

Julie took a step back. "Why don't you sit over her in my chair? Wait until things...calm down." She turned her a head a bit from him to indicate she wouldn't look.

"Thank you, Miss Walker." Billy was grateful, hurriedly accepting her offer and hiding behind her desk.

"Just stay in here as long as you need, Billy. There won't be a class here next period." The English instructor quickly picked up her books and crossed the room to leave the poor boy in his rightful solitude.

"Uh...Miss Walker?" Billy moaned under his breath to pause his teacher's retreat. "I don't think it'll go down...by itself."

Julie closed the heavy door to the busy hallway, and the silence resounded. Then, in afterthought, she set the lock to prevent any additional disturbance for the boy. With reservation in her step, she returned to the student's side to see if she could render some sort of assistance. When she stood before the boy with concern in her eyes, he raised his head and parted his arms to display his bottleneck. Pointing toward his belt buckle, the erection seemed to be providing more angle than his tight jeans should permit. It looked terribly uncomfortable to the instructor. "Well...Mr. Sullivan, er, what would you usually do?" She lifted her brow in a shrug.

"Ah...you know." Billy imitated slightly with his right hand.

Miss Walker leaned inward a bit with her hands on her knees. "Well, Billy," she whispered, "that's just what you should do. I'll go guard the door." She added a wink to assure her discretion. Billy stiffened more in his seat.

"Oh, I couldn't do that, Miss Walker. Not here. Not me. I'd be too embarrassed. If anybody ever found out...no, no way!"

"Won't it just go away on its own?" the teacher asked in hope.

Billy shook his head with conviction. "No, no. Something has to be done. It hurts, you know? It hurts really bad."

Julie did know, as both her boyfriends of college explained the horrible pain of denied erections, and the possible risk of testicular cancer as a result. She remembered the agony they went through and the manual help of hers they desperately enlisted. Of course, her last beau wanted more, much more, taking advantage of her beach party inebriation and the scant defenses of her bathing suit to swiftly rob her of her sweet chastity. Julie learned then to maintain a safe distance from men, as least until she had proven her own abilities and commanded the respect due any adult professional As a professional, then, she had to handle this awkward situation with her top concern being the welfare of her student, sitting pitifully with an anguished face, his swollen shame forming a great rippled ridge beneath the tight denim. The teacher reviewed the predicament. "Your pants are probably too tight...restricting the blood flow. Perhaps if you loosened them." Billy needed no convincing, and hurriedly fumbled with his belt and button fly to release the white cotton bulge beneath, springing out as a snow ridge even more pronounced. Julie was still taking in that vision when the teen abruptly tugged his briefs down as well, and there it was, out in the open. Julie was certain it was much larger and even better formed than the ones those college men had spent in her hands. And, unlike those jerks, her student was just a helpless boy needing only compassion and understanding.

"Can you do something?" Billy entreated her with his puppy dog eyes. Miss Walker took a deep breath of inner strength.

"I'll see if I can, Billy." With that she knelt beside the standing boy sitting in the chair. With another breath of resolve she took hold of him, gently at first, as it appeared so sore. Then in bittersweet remembrance she duplicated her collegiate technique, encircling the thick shaft with her thumb and index finger, and, upon assuming a good grip, moving her hand up and down in somewhat a regular motion.

"Ouch! That hurts!"

Julie immediately ceased her mechanical action. "Oh, my God! I'm sorry!"

"It's just too dry," Billy explained. "You, uh, need to spit in your hand." He smiled sheepishly. Julie thought she understood.

"For lubrication, right?" she confirmed in a lower voice.

"Oh, yeah. That's the only way. Otherwise...it hurts too much."

The teacher brought her hand up close to her face, and politely spat into it, slightly embarrassing herself with the display. Then spreading the spittle over her palm, Julie resumed her stroking, now eliciting low moans from Billy. "Yeah," he whispered, then piped up with a suggestion. "But twist your hand around it more, squeeze it more. Rub the head with your thumb." His nonchalant instructions surprised Julie, but strangely held store for her.

"Like this?" she made sure, seeking an efficiency which would take her sooner to her overdue paperwork.

"Yeah, that's it," Billy approved. "Yeah, rub that more with your thumb." The teacher followed his commands, musing over the relatively soft rubberiness of the head compared to the stiff and ever harder shaft, which seemed to have grown another inch in her hand. But Billy became upset again. "No, this is too weird," he blurted out. "You're my teacher. I can't...I can't get off in front of you."

Julie was stumped. "I'm trying my best to help you, Billy."

The resourceful jock had an idea. "Maybe if I closed my eyes, and pretended you were my girlfriend. That might work."

"Sure, Billy, " Miss Walker spoke in a voice intending to calm. "That would be fine." The boy closed his eyes as he named, then blindly reached out to stroke his teacher's shoulder, his hand deftly slipping down over the starched cotton to explore the firm swell of her breasts. Julie wasn't expecting that, but she understood that the familiarity might help in putting him at ease. She increased her throttle, working the taut flesh up and down, sliding it in and out of her small fist as Billy attempted in vain to encompass her magnificent breast with the span of his hand. Julie felt sweat beading upon her temples.

"It's dry again," Billy announced. "It needs more spit. But you can just spit right on it, that's better." Julie frowned at the lengths of this ordeal, but knew she best oblige to bring an end to the situation. She leaned in over the ballooning red knob in her fist to drop an air parcel of saliva, but it hung above the target in a thick stream, ever so slowly stretching down into a glimmering thread which finally drew a thin, spiral bead on the penis' aching tip. Julie spread over him what she could collect of the moisture, but he halted her resumed stroking. "That's not enough. You need to spit on it again. Spit on it!" As she drew back from his domineering attitude, Julie noticed the boy had furtively undone the buttons of her loose blouse, even opening it to expose her simple brassiere and extraordinary breasts. His hand was already upon the right cup.

"Billy!" Julie exclaimed. "You shouldn't do that!" She blushed for the first time with him.

"I have to, I have to...it helps," Billy defended, squeezing all he could of the expanse of her bare cleavage. "But spit on it, spit on it now!" he ordered frantically. Julie responded automatically, sucking up all the saliva she could from her mouth, but on release the stream again held in a viscous string. "Get your head closer," the young athlete commanded. Julie obeyed, lowering herself and the head-held glob, thus achieving greater spittle coverage which she judiciously applied before returning to a steady rhythm with her slick hand, now looking even tinier moving up and down his big dick. Julie began to suspect that a large instrument such as his would most likely cause an equally large mess (that brought back memories), and she decided it was a good thing her blouse was open to escape any stray drops. Oh, now Billy had both hands on her breasts, lifting them in their bra and pressing their firm domes together. Julie worked on, fluid movements in regular time, trying to ignore the fact that she could feel her nipples hardening, hoping it would not become so obvious as it usually - Oh! Billy's thumbs had found them, rolling them, oh! now pinching them, tighter. Julie jerked him faster, her small fist squeezing more, then suddenly she noticed the boy's straining erection developing a distinct rise in temperature. "Oh...oh," the boy moaned. "Oh, it's almost there...don't stop...oh...oh...spit...more spit! Closer, more spit...please...it hurts!"

Julie moved in as he told her, her face just inches from the straining tip of his angry manhood, then parted her puckered lips to drop another wet bomb. But before the wash could spill, Billy grabbed Julie by the back of her head, pushing her down and himself into her surprised mouth. "Uhnmmmph," was all Julie's throat could voice, but even if her mouth hadn't been suddenly crammed full with the boy's fat cock, she would be speechless still. That had certainly never happened to her before. Her reaction was lulled by shock, but when her senses returned and she attempted to push herself away from his lap, she soon discovered the strength of arms that threw winning touchdown passes and boastfully performed chin-ups for the appreciative schoolgirls. Billy secured his grip on her with a fistful of the soft, blond bun coming loose in his hand, forcing her head to bob up and down on him at an unrelenting pace. As the powerful piston of hard flesh pumped in and out of her mouth, Julie felt totally helpless, unable to get free or even scream. The student had become the master, and all she could do was let it happened, just submit to that big thing sliding into her mouth, tapping its soft mallet against the back of her throat. "Thank you, Miss Walker! Thank you, Miss Walker!" Billy cried out as his dick jerked and spurted inside his English teacher's drooling mouth. He shoved her face down further while arching upward with his hips, entering her head to the hilt, holding her there at the absolute limit, rock still, fingers clutching her captive hair, until another spasm tossed a double dollop across the last remaining space in her throat. Not until he was certain the last drop had been delivered to its gagging destination did Billy release his death grip from his teacher's head and settle back into his seat with a great spewing of breath.

Julie at once pulled her head off of him, nearly toppling to the linoleum floor as tears ran out of her eyes and copious amounts of sperm fell from her gasping, slack jaws. Her hand shot out to the ancient tile floor for support, but instead found a slick splotch of the boy's semen, which caused the butt of her palm to slide and threaten her balance. Once she was able to sit back on her flushed round bottom, Julie brought her cleaner hand to her cheek, promptly noting the teen's cum on her chin, running down her neck and onto her heaving breasts. On her knees Julie slowly crawled to her purse beside the desk, and then fumbled inside until she located the white handkerchief her grandmother had given her. Julie dabbed at her face, still unable to speak, and not wanting to say anything, just trying to switch off that memory instantly. Billy had already leapt to his feet and swiftly tucked his still-stiff cock inside his pants, buttoning and belting as fast as he could.

"Thank you, Miss Walker," he muttered, then hurried to the door, opening and shutting it behind him in one swift flurry.

Julie leaned back against her desk and traced her hand down her neck and onto the top of breasts, wetting her fingers again with still more traces of him. It was then that she allowed herself to consider the taste of him in her mouth.

The 5th-period encounter left Miss Walker highly distracted the rest of the day. That night her sleep was fitful; though she strained her will to block her mind from the memory of the incident, her body kicked and tossed, finding the single sheet too hot to bear as her internal temperatures rose. It was too hot for May, she thought, sweating between her breasts, between her legs. Her thighs moved upon themselves, and she chewed the corner of the pillow case. A sticky, worried night finally melted upon her.

Saturday morning came like a slap in the face. Chainsaws!? My window? Julie jerked her groggy face from the drool-soaked pillow, and then her ears could discern a lawnmower thankfully moving into the distance outside. Who on earth could be mowing out there? she wondered as she yawned, arching and twisting her back in a delicious stretch. As she wiped her sticky-thick lashes clear, the racket outside ceased abruptly with a slight sputter. Well, whoever it was, she thought, they're finished now. Julie swung her figure skater legs out of bed, rearranging the tank top she'd slept in, and tugging down on the wayward panties that had ridden up in the night to invade her tender creases.

Sitting for her morning stream, Julie kicked that dirty pair over to the hamper and from the laundry basket beside it selected a fresh pair of white cotton. When she stood and pulled them up over her sculpted thighs and buttocks for a snug, secure fit, she smiled, cuddling with that feeling as she had since she was a little girl. It was sort of like...love. Julie the child had collected all the little bits of love she could, even acting up to receive scoldings and spankings from her father, who was usually too busy for much else attention. Sure, he became proud of her later on, she made sure of it. Daddy's little angel skating on the ice, practicing every day after school for years. He even came to some of her competitions. Julie also worked hard for her grades in school, even becoming a schoolteacher to suit him, as it was one of the few professions her father deemed suitable for a young lady.

The smell of freshly cut St. Augustine at once filled her nostrils, and Julie remembered to take a peek out the window. With a gasp she saw young Billy on her freshly mown yard, standing tall in his short jean cut-offs, muscled legs covered in grass, no shirt whatsoever, bulging arms and chest dripping sweat. He was there at her front door, about to knock. Oh my goodness, Julie thought, what is he doing?! Why?! She jerked a t-shirt off a closet hanger and hurriedly pulled it on. What does he want now? Oh, he's still knocking. Julie thrust her head into the hallway. "I'll be right there," she called out, then ran into the bathroom to grab the top pair of shorts from her laundry basket, hop-stepping into them as she quickly returned. Even as she opened the door to him she could not fathom her rush. "Oh, hello, Billy," she greeted him meekly through the crack of the door.

"Hi, Miss Walker." For one long moment Billy just stood, breathing heavily and glistening from his exertion. "Uh, I mowed your lawn for you. It really needed it." He kicked at the ground like a typical schoolboy. "I just...wanted to...thank you for...you know." He looked down at his feet.

Julie opened the door a bit more to him. "About that, Billy. We should probably talk about that, but...then again, perhaps it would be much better to just...forget it ever happened. Don't you think so, Billy?" Julie bit her lip slightly, easing the door back shut.

"Oh, sure...fine," Billy agreed readily. "It never happened." His remorse switched instantly to playfulness. "But still, I had to do something nice for you." He glanced over his shoulder at his finished work, while Julie's eyes followed a stream of sweat trickling down his rising chest and onto his rippled belly faintly trimmed with soft fur. His head whipped back at her, catching her eyes, which she in turn shot out toward the lawn.

"Yes, thank you, Billy. That looks very nice. I can see that you worked hard on it." She could also see that the cut blades randomly stuck to his skin were itching him, as he could not help but scratch at them with increasing irritation as the next awkward silence wore on.

"Yeah," Billy spoke up. "This grass sure does itch on you. I think yours might have been sprayed with something. It really itches." He scratched more profusely as his eyes took a sudden dip into pathos. "Uh, hey...do you...uh, could I come in and take a shower, if it's no problem. I wouldn't ask, but it really feels like chemicals burning me."

Julie glanced over at her almost-new garden hose, coiled about its holder next to the front porch, ready, able..."Of course, Billy. Come in. You might be having an allergic reaction of some sort." Julie bit down harder on her lush bottom lip as she led him down the hallway to the bathroom. Why am I doing this? This cannot be a good idea. "Here you go, Mr. Sullivan. There are plenty of soaps and shampoos in the shower."