Ward Michaels - Lessons After School

Suddenly she was coming, pumping her hot female fluid out to bathe his throbbing cock and steaming loins. He was with her, his heavy erection spewing out quarts of white semen. She could feel it as it splattered into her body, and she felt as if she were soaring high above the Earth, borne on the wings of passion. Her head was spinning. It was as though her body belonged to someone else, but she was experiencing it all, the pleasure, the pain, the ultimate heat of raw passion. She caromed from climax to climax, screaming into Andy's ear, her fingernails ripping at his broad back.

When they had both subsided, she held him close to her for a long time, her legs still wrapped around his trim buttocks. She knew that this was the first of a long line of experiences, and she vowed to have Andy as often as she could.

As he promised, they met every afternoon for an hour of wild sex play, either in his bedroom or hers. When his family moved away six months later, Susie was heartbroken. For awhile she tried masturbation again, but compared to Andy and his huge, demanding erection, her fingers were nothing.

There was only one remedy for her problem, and she knew exactly what it was. She began throwing herself openly at every boy in school. It took a little while, but she soon had them responding to her wildly overly emphasized charms. She grew more and more popular as word spread among the horny young studs in her neighborhood. Among them was Dale Paulson. Even the boys talked about the immense size of his organ and the wildness of his sexual appetites. Susie decided he was exactly what she needed, and she was right.

"Hi," Ben Sommers said. He was leaning against the frame of Betty Wingate's classroom door.

"Oh, Ben, you startled me," the blonde teacher said, looking up from the papers she was correcting. "What is it?"

"Oh, nothing. I just thought maybe it was time to go home. It's nearly five."

"It is? I had no idea. I got so involved in these term papers that the time got away from me."

"I know," Ben said, smiling. "Time flies when you're having fun."

"Not exactly. I'm almost done, though, and I'd like to finish."

"If I wait around 'til you do, can I buy you a drink?"

Betty was surprised. Ben had never made a move like this before. She was tempted to ask him why he was doing so now, but she decided against it. That was his business. She was lonely and knew she had been spending too much time alone. Why else had things reached the point where she was eyeing her students' crotches the way she had done with Dale Paulson earlier in the day. That episode still had her shaking. A drink and some good conversation were exactly what she needed.

Betty swept the papers into the top drawer of her desk. "I can finish these first thing in the morning," she said. "Let's go."

The Zebra Lounge was not a usual hangout for teachers. That was why Ben picked it. He did not want to take a chance on running into anyone else from school. All afternoon his mind had been on Betty's cute little behind and the way it had caught his eye as she swung out of the teachers lounge. Maybe he could get to know her better, a lot better. A drink at the Zebra was a good way to start.

Betty and Ben found a table and ordered. The two of them made small talk, neither very sure of what to say. Betty sipped her drink slowly, her mind still on what Ben might want. How silly, she thought. All the man did was ask me out for a drink. The way she was acting, one would think she hoped for something more.

As the two of them sipped their drinks slowly, Ben eyed Betty carefully. How should he make his approach? She seemed so naive. He could not help comparing her to Susie Walters. Even though Betty was several years older than the voluptuous student, and even though she had been through college, she seemed much less aware sexually. With Susie all he ever had to do was ask. Sometimes she even did the asking. With Betty, he would need some old fashioned courtship.

"You know," Betty said after a long silence, "what I was talking to you about earlier today is a real problem."

"You mean Dale Paulson?"

"Yes, and that girlfriend of his, Susie Walters. They practically make love right in class."

"Yeah, I've heard the other teachers complain about it too," Ben replied, finishing off his drink. He felt the hair on the back of his neck rising. Whenever he thought of Susie with Dale, or with any other man except himself, he grew angry. It was not rational on his part, and he knew it. He had no claim on the girl, and he wanted none. She was nothing but a little tramp. Still, sex with her was so terrific, so completely animal, so satisfying to the most hidden parts of a man's nature. As he thought about her, he felt his giant penis beginning to creep down his leg, growing steadily and rigidly erect.

"How about another drink?" he asked, trying to take his mind off the dark haired, uninhibited student.

"I suppose so," Betty answered. "I really shouldn't, though. I still have those papers to grade."

"Aw, come on! Forget books and papers for one night. Let's have a good time. We've earned it, just putting up with the little sons-of-bitches all this year." He gestured to the bartender to bring them a second drink.

Betty giggled. Ben's open disregard for the convention of the way teachers were supposed to behave was attractive. She looked at him, thinking once again how handsome he was, his curly hair insisting on coming down over his shiny forehead. She longed to brush the stubborn locks back out of his eyes, but she could not do that. It would be much too forward.

"Tell you what," Ben said, gulping his drink. "What are your plans for dinner?"

"I was going home and have a sandwich as usual. That's all."

"Let's celebrate. Have dinner with me."

"But the nearest decent restaurant is in Rucksville, and that's thirty miles away. We could never manage that on a school night."

"We don't need to go anyplace. I know a great place to eat right here in town."

"You do? Where is that?"

"My apartment. I'm a pretty fair cook. Single guys get that way. It's self preservation." He grinned at her winningly, his perfect, white teeth flashing in the dim light of the lounge.

"Your apartment? I don't know if… "

"Hey, come off it, Betty. This is the end of the Twentieth Century. You're acting like it's eighteen ninety, and you're the new school marm!"

She laughed. "I suppose you're right, but I don't want to put you to any trouble."

"No trouble at all. We'll just stop by the market, and I'll pick up a couple of steaks and a head of lettuce. After that, all you have to do is relax and put your feet up. I'll take care of the cooking."

"I can't resist an offer like that. Come on, let's go. I'm starving to death."

Ben let Betty precede him out of the bar. That way she was not so apt to see the huge bulge in his pants leg.

The first thing he did when they reached his apartment was fix the English teacher another drink. "Here," he said, "I think you'll find this exactly like what they serve at the Zebra."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly drink that. I've already had two, and I never drink even that much."

Ben pushed the glass into her hand. "It's already mixed. You wouldn't want to waste it, would you? Besides, we're celebrating, remember?"

With a sigh, Betty took the drink. She watched Ben Sommers retreat into the kitchen, her eyes focused on his trim, fabric encased buttocks. He was certainly a handsome man, she thought to herself as she sipped at the drink. It was stronger than those at the bar. Maybe she should water it down a little. How silly, she thought. She was an adult, out on her own. It was time she stopped acting like a school girl. What could happen anyway?

"Turn on the stereo," Ben called from the kitchen. "I think three or four records are there ready to go."