Tim McGee - The Lusty Teacher

"Now class, we're going to start visual units in our compositions."

He heard her through the door. He quickly read the note and then slumped back against the wall. Far – fucking – out! She wanted him to call at her home tonight at eight o'clock. Now that was something to think about.

Things were normal in the George Adam Jones household this morning. At least Mrs. Alice Jones thought so – the toast was burnt, the. scrambled eggs were too dry, Dottie rushed away to school and forgot her lunchbox, Leroy, the twelve yeard – old, gulped his food as usual, knocked over a glass of milk, and raced out the back door. Spot, their German Shepherd, had stayed in the house last night and shit on the front carpet, broke two priceless vases, and now was out in the back yard barking his ass off at some dumb cat that was streaking through her well – cared – for garden. Alice flopped down at the kitchen table and threw down the dish cloth in total defeat. In a minute now Mr. Jones would be down from upstairs yelling for his coffee and complaining about the delinquency of the students at Wilbur High where he had been the principal for the past twenty – five years.

"Good morning, darling," he said. "Would you be a dear and take the station wagon down to the service station?"

"What the hell for? You can't get gas!"

"To have the oil filter changed. You can do that much, can't you? I mean, you're so overloaded with household chores, you can't take a minute off from your daytime serials to see to the car?"

"You know, George, I was gonna be nice to you this morning. I really was. But you don't deserve it. You don't deserve me or the way that I slave for you."

George sat down.

"What's eating you this morning? For Crissake, what did I do but walk in and say good morning?"

"That is the problem, George. You don't know what is happening with me or the kids, or the dog, or that my mother broke her legs two days ago playing hopscotch."

"She's your mother – not mine."

She stood up and put her hands on her hips. "Oh – oh so now you're throwing my mother up in my face? She told me not to marry you. She said I was sick to want to get hung up with of all things, a high – school principal! A grammar – school principal wouldn't have been so bad. But a high – school principal – God save us! What could be worse to marry except maybe an undertaker?"

"I don't recall begging you to marry into this ghetto dwelling," he retaliated, "with the pool, tennis court, two cars, twelve credit cards, and a clothes closet that could supply the first floor of Gimbel's. Oh boy, you got it so gawdamn, fucking bad though, don't you?"

"George – "

"What?"

"Shut up!"

She raised her gown and practically put her snatch right up against his eyeballs.

"Husband, dear… do you remember what this is?"

"Pete sakes, put your gown down, will you? That's a fine way for a principal's wife to act."

She stuck one finger in her cunt and made a salute with the other and began to chant – "Oh, say can you fuck?"

"Alice, if you don't stop behaving in such a childish fashion. I'm afraid I'll have to – "

She stopped him short, cold. "George, I'm leaving you. I want a divorce. That's it. I'm through."

"You must be out of your mind. What about the kids?"

"Ohh…" she waved a hand, "you can have 'em. Take 'em. I give 'em to you. And that damn horny dog, the bullfrog, the six cats, the canary, and the bills. I don't even want a settlement. Just out!"

"Be sensible. That would cause a scandal. Our folks would pitch a bitch."

"Here I am, a woman of forty – two years, and I am still living my life for my parents. Get out of here, George, and go to school. But one of these days I won't be here when you walk in that door."

After her husband left for school Alice Jones played with herself. How wicked she was! She did not have any scruples when it came to loving young boys either. She was the one woman in Marinda who would not deny herself sexual pleasure. She admitted openly to her cirde of horny friends, "Why should I waste away and let my cunt – hole dry up? Tell me that. I love to ball: I love to go down on big cocks. You all – really – do too. I won't be a phony like some of you and our other suburbanites who have to live in the Valley of the Dolls and become neurotic because they don't fuck enough. Holding on to the strict religious restrictions with one hand, and beating the meat with the other! I figure that any prick that can come hard is old enough to mouth." It was easy to see why she didn't have very many female friends. Most of her girlfriends didn't trust her around their husbands.

She was a trip and she knew it. Men only dug her because she was an easy lay. (That is, if you knew how to appeal to her childish side.) She was like most voluptuous women – she walked by and turned every young man's head. Now she had a fear of growing old. Her mammoth – sized breasts that once were her most attractive feature were beginning to sag. So much so, that each morning she faithfully worked out with an exerciser to strengthen up her pectoral muscles. Seeing herself do so made her realize just how important a big chest was. Those big babies were instrumental in drawing all kinds of men to her. And when they came they were usually sporting hot – and greedy cocks. "If I didn't have big cans, men would never look at me. I know that," she told herself rather vindictively. She had learned to deal with the biological fact that she had winners up front.

She confessed to having a weird, anything – goes personality, except when she said something was not so. If you did not play her weird game, you missed out on some good, good pussy. She spoke openly, frankly, and unashamedly about her sexual appetite. She needed a man to fuck her every minute of the day, seven days a week. Her psyche had a two – sided character. Like a sword it stuck deep in the heart of her cunt. On one side, she could have orgasms repeatedly – each one better than the last – until she went out of her head. She was a nymphomanic and would ball any person off the street at the drop of a hat. The other side of the sharp sword was the fact that she had big booming tits which made men crazy to dick her. And she was not about to say no, no way. The man who approached her properly had a good balling coming.

Having the body of a goddess and a strong sexual desire had made life difficult for her in many instances. She had completely drained her first husband. He had taken her as a virgin, neither one of them knowing much about sex. After discovering he could not satisfy her, he became overtly jealous of his pals, who flocked around her like wolves, waiting for the fuck. They all knew that she had hot pants, so they paid her compliments which made her damn near cream on herself. There were always some sly insidious remarks about the tremendous size of her breasts. Her husband finally cracked under the pressure, knowing that indeed, if given the chance, she would fuck any man behind his back. Which was true and it did happen; she was simple – minded that way. She knew sex was not dirty, and she had treated it mentally like a child, not minding anyone playing with her toys as long as they were not broken and given back to her.

She remembered when she fucked a real – estate agent. That had been her most risquй affair. He had come out to the house to appraise it, He was turned on right away and he asked to see her again on a more personal basis. She agreed to meet him in the park one day. They walked to the top of a hill that overlooked the park dwellers. The man was so hot to fuck her, he almost threw her down to the ground. Right there in the sunlight, surrounded by trees and beautiful nature, he sucked and licked her mammoth – sized tits. It had all been so weird. There she was, with this practically total stranger, on top of a hill in the park and him humping to beat the band!