Frank Levy: The voyeur teacher

Mary Frances Ferguson, the headmistress of the Ferguson School, looked across her desk at the young man she was interviewing for the job of boys' physical education teacher. She felt a beginning tingling and a slight dampness in her panties. Damn! He sure looked just like what she had in mind!

He was a very handsome young man, blond hair, thick, but not too long, wide shoulders, narrow waist and hips, strong thighs, and a nice snug fullness between his legs.

His eyes were a deep slate blue and stared back at her with a slight dullness, just a hint of stupidity. She liked that. Miss Ferguson ran the show at her school, and she didn't want a man around that she couldn't control easily enough.

Kris Kristopoulos sat across from her and watched her looking at his file and back at him as if she were trying to match him up with the person described in there. He was sweating from nervousness. He needed a job pretty badly. He had gotten bounced from the job where he worked at his first school for committing certain improprieties.

Mary Frances tapped the folder with her fingernail.

"Mister, uh Kristopoulos, this letter of recommendation from the principal at your last school leaves a little to be desired."

Good! He flushed red as a beet!

"It says here, 'To whom it may concern, Mr. Kristopoulos worked for us for one year as a physical education instructor and as a teacher of biology and general science. We found him to be a good coach and an adequate teacher of science.' Sincerely, and so on."

He cleared his throat, and the perspiration began to pop out on his forehead.

"That doesn't say very much, now, does it? For example, why wasn't your contract renewed for this year?"

"We couldn't see eye-to-eye," he muttered and stuck his finger into the collar of his shirt and pulled it out to get a little more air.

"Oh really? What about?"

"There were some complaints over a personal matter," he said, his voice dwindling down at the end to a choked whisper.

"Well, I must know just what the nature of this conflict was at your previous employment."

"Yes, Miss Ferguson." He heaved a sigh. "It was trouble with a girl," he said.

"What kind of trouble?"

"Sex," he finally squeezed out, blushing so badly that he thought his whole head was going to swell up and pop with the blood that was rushing to his face.

"I see. Did you get her pregnant?"

"Oh, no. We, uh, I mean, uh, I was careful about that, but she told another girl and it got back to her parents. They, a, went to the principal, and he fired me."

"That is a very serious matter, indeed, Mr. Kristopoulos, but your honesty in dealing with me about it says a great deal for you. Naturally, we cannot afford to have such a thing happen at my school, and I am beginning to feel that you have learned your lesson, as they say, and will not be so foolish again."

"Oh, no, Miss Ferguson," he blurted, "You can be very sure of that! You can trust me!"

Mary Frances leaned back against a bookcase next to the window and faced Kristopoulos. She arched her back and stretched the material of her blouse over her tits until her nipples and the lace of her bra could be seen through the fabric. She knew that she had captured his complete attention by the way his tongue hung out.

"Sex can be used for therapeutic purposes," she said. "Sex is such a very very important part of the lives of young boys and girls, especially at the time of their lives when they are in our care. Don't you agree?"

God, she was stacked! he thought. He was getting conflicting signals from this broad, and he had better watch his step, he thought in his confusion. She took her glasses off and showed him a pair of dark, dark eyes. Her lips were getting redder, softer, and fuller, it seemed to him. Shit! She don't need a bunch of makeup. But her hair was still in that old-maid bun and the suit still covered her curves with only hints that they were in the right places with the right proportions.

"Wha-what did you say?" he said and continued to ogle her.

"I said that sex is probably the most important part of a teenage girl or boy's life. We as teachers simply cannot ignore that fact, don't you think?"

"Oh, no, of course not." What the hell is she talking about? he wondered.

She walked back to the desk in long, slow, graceful strides that showed off her legs and allowed her to swing that full, rounded ass of hers to perfection. She perched on the corner of the desk and hooked one foot behind the calf of the other leg. The pose allowed her skirt to pull up over her knee.

Kristopoulos was having trouble breathing regularly. She was turning so damned sexy right in front of his eyes, from a frumpish school mistress to a hot bitch. Each little movement was beginning to have its effects on him. His stomach muscles were tightening. And his cock was stiffening. She was sitting on the desk corner right in front of him, so there wasn't anything he could do to cover up his hard-on.

"I'm a qualified nurse as well as a teacher, you know," she said, swinging her long, lovely leg.

"Yeah?" he grunted, mesmerized by her seductive movements.

"Yes, I find it very helpful in dealing with the problems of my boys and girls. So many of their troubles from acne to study habits stem from sexual frustration."

He was beyond answering her now. He didn't know what the hell she was talking about, and he didn't give a shit anymore. His head was nodding up and down with the swing of her leg, and his mouth was hanging open. He was seeing nothing but the tight fullness of her thighs under that skirt, imagining the way her thighs must be rubbing on her fat, hairy nest, trapping her clit in there between her moist cunt-lips and rolling it back and forth with each swing. Her cunt must be wet and slippery, he thought.

Kristopoulos' cock finally worked under the leg band of his jockey shorts and stuck straight down the leg of his pants, the cock-knob swelling to its full size and beginning to leak pre-cum, soaking a big spot through his trousers. He was too far gone to try to hide it anymore.

Mary Frances had been watching his cock hardening down the length of his leg. Her eyes were glittered with pleasure when she saw the size of it. Her cunt cream had soaked through the two pairs of panties that she wore just for that reason. Her stiff cunt was being rubbed raw as she swung her leg back and forth faster and faster, almost ready to bring herself off to orgasm!

She stopped and pointed her foot a few inches from the head of his dong. He trembled like electricity was shooting through his body. She flicked up her leg so that the heel of the shoe caught under the shaft of his cock and ran along his cum tube back to his big balls. She stroked up and down the long rod, outlining it in his pants.

"You look pretty frustrated yourself, Kris," she said, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "How long has it been since you've had a woman?"

He licked his lips and barely managed to croak, "Couple of days."

"A couple of days! My, that's far too long a time for a healthy young stud like you to go without, don't you think? Just look at how hard your cock is now. You're soaking right through your pants and making a mess out of them. How can you go back home with a big boner on in your trousers like that and all wet, too?"

"God, let me fuck you, lady! You want it, too, don't you? Just let me put it in for a quickie, okay?"

"I think we can do better than that, Kris. If you're as hung as it looks like you are from here, we can certainly do better than that. Come here and let Mary Frances see how bad it is. Let me make it all better for you, big boy!"

She got her hands on his cock and gave it a squeeze through his pants. God! It seemed to go on forever down his leg, and it was as hard as a crowbar, but thicker, much thicker! She cupped his big nuts in her hand, feeling them trapped in his pants as she pulled his belt open. He had the balls of a bull, packed with sperm, and she was eager to find out if he could fuck like a bull, too. She got his pants down to his knees, and his huge fucker jumped out.