What has that damn kid done now?
It was never good to get a note from the school, asking me to come in for “a talk.” My kid was a bright young man, but always getting into some kind of mischief. Never a big deal, it always seemed to me. But the school always took everything as a life-or-death matter, so I had to come in – again – to talk about it, whatever it was this time. I was a single dad, divorced; I had to take my responsibilities seriously about this sort of thing.
The teacher’s name was unfamiliar – Ms. Williamson, the message said. I think she was a young new teacher, probably overreacting to some perfectly normal behavior from a rowdy teenage boy. My kid was an average student, except as an artist. He had real talent there; I hoped he’d pursue a career as an illustrator or graphic designer.
But I figured his teacher wasn’t calling me in on a Friday evening, long after school hours, to talk about his art skills. Whatever it was, I hoped it wouldn’t take too long. I wanted to get on with my weekend!
I arrived to find Ms. Williamson in our agreed-upon meeting place, the teacher’s lounge. The school was deserted at this hour. She had agreed to meet me in the evening because it was the only available time of day for me. As a single parent, I couldn’t afford to take time off from work.
At my age, in my mid-forties, almost every young teacher seemed cute and attractive (a product of my own boyhood fantasies). But Ms. Williamson seemed especially so – tall and slim, a cute blond young lady with short hair. I tried not to notice her long legs and the skirt that seemed way shorter than anything I’d ever seen being worn by a teacher of mine! But, then again, I thought to myself, I’m from the Stone Age.
We said hello and she paid my son a few compliments, which I know is what all teachers tend to do for parents right before they give them the “bad news,” lol. But soon enough we came down to business, and I asked her what my son was up to this time – what had he done?
Ms. Williamson hesitated, then pulled out a couple of folders from the desk beside her. She said she had received a written assignment from her son, and there were some drawings sandwiched in among the other printed pages. She said they were drawings my son had done, and she told me to take a look. At this point I was pretty nervous, but at least they hadn’t called the cops, right? This couldn’t be too bad!
The drawings were all of Ms. Williamson – about a half dozen of them. Nothing terribly risqué about them, although I couldn’t help notice that some of the characteristics were a bit “accentuated.” My kid was a good artist; they were all very good depictions of his teacher. But he was also a horny teen boy, and in the drawings, Ms. Williamson had especially luscious-looking lips, a wickedly sexy smile, and especially shapely legs, ass and tits. They reminded me of the old-time pinup girl drawings soldiers used to have.
I was a bit embarrassed by all this, but I told her that lots of teen boys had teacher fantasies, it was just that my kid happened to have the talent to put them on paper and get busted for them. I apologized to her and asked what kind of punishment he would receive for this. Although, as I told her, it didn’t really seem like all that much of a transgression after she told me my kid had told her he hadn’t shown them to anyone. Mixing in the drawings with his assignment, he’d told her, was an accident. And she believed him.
When she told me this, I really didn’t understand why he’d be in such big trouble over such a thing. It was embarrassing for all concerned, but still a very private thing. And she told me he’d apologized profusely and sincerely, and she’d told him it was OK, not to worry about it. She’d asked him not to make any more drawings, and he’d promised not to. She had told him he wasn’t in any trouble, that she was willing to trust him not to do it again.
It seemed like everything had been settled between Ms. Williamson and my kid, so now I was at a loss. I asked her if these pictures, although slightly suggestive, were really all that big a deal.
“No,” she said. “But there are other pictures…”
“Oh shit,” I mumbled under my breath.
“Exactly,” she replied. Then she slid the other folder over to me across the desk.
My heart was pounding at this point; now it seemed obvious that at last, something awful was about to be revealed. “What are these?” I asked meekly.
She replied that when my kid’s first “violation” had occurred, she had taken it upon herself to check out his art class portfolio. I wasn’t sure she really had the authority to do that, but she told me that’s where she had discovered the “other drawings.” She said absolutely nobody knew that she had seen them, not even my son. I was about to be only the second person to take a look.
Except for my son, “the artist.”
I opened the second folder and was shocked, to say the least. The artwork was absolutely first class, and my heart began pounding when I realized what they were. These drawings were the very same caricatures of Ms. Williamson I had already seen. They were the very same poses; they were carbon copies in every way.
Except that in my kid’s “secret folder” of drawings, Ms. Williamson was completely naked.
“Oh shit,” I muttered again.
Again Ms. Williamson replied, “Exactly.”
I found myself staring at them a bit too long to be appropriate, but I couldn’t help myself. These drawings showed a gorgeous naked beauty with long shapely legs that tapered down from a tight, athletic, round and perfect ass. The drawing from the front showed a beautifully sexy thigh gap, accentuating a round, bald pussy with puffy lips and an engorged clit. A drop of thick, creamy liquid was hanging from the bottom of those aroused, dripping wet pussy lips. Nice touch, I thought to myself.
The drawings from the side showed round, sexy boobs with hard nipples jutting out a full inch. In the clothed version of that drawing, she’d been depicted as holding a pointer in her hand as if she were delivering a lecture to the class. In the naked version, her hand was pinching and pulling at one of those long, hard nipples. I realized in sudden embarrassment that my dick was getting hard, and I looked away (or at least tried to…
Ms. Williamson was just staring at me – I couldn’t tell what the fuck she was thinking, but she strangely didn’t seem upset. She seemed to be enjoying the way I had been ogling those drawings like something out of Penthouse magazine, and the way I was having a hard time looking at her. I was seeing her through my son’s eyes, and she looked suddenly so fucking sexy and in control of the situation.
No, she wasn’t upset at all; something else was going on. I knew my kid was in real trouble, so I tried to start a conversation about questioning her right to even search my kid’s belongings in the first place. I didn’t want anything this awful to get into his permanent record and ruin his career over what was really nothing but a kid’s imagination running away with him.
She then surprised me and said, again, that my son wasn’t in any trouble at all. I was greatly relieved, and bluntly asked her, “What the fuck is this meeting all about?”
It was then that she told me that she was the one that was in deep trouble. I was dumbfounded as she began telling me that since she’d found the naked drawings three days ago, she couldn’t stop thinking about them. She was distracted by her confused feelings of excitement and arousal, that a student in her class—by now a legal adult—was looking at her and thinking of nothing but sex. She confessed that she was having the same thoughts when she looked at him. Erotic feelings, an obsession with sex, made it pretty hard to teach class!
Before I could respond to that astounding revelation, she quickly reassured me that there was no chance that she would ever act on those erotic impulses with my son, or any student. It wouldn’t be good for him, and it would surely mean the end of her teaching career. In fact, she’d probably end up in jail.
I asked her, if my son was in no trouble, why she was telling me all this. “Well,” she told me, “I said I had no intention of acting on these impulses with your son. But I do need to act on them; I’m desperate. This is driving me fucking crazy, getting worse every day. I’ve got to do something to—uh—relieve my frustrations…if you know what I mean.”
“Oh shit,” I muttered for the third time that evening.
Again she replied, “Exactly.”
Like I said earlier, it was the teacher’s lounge. There was a long, comfortable sofa and a couple of big, overstuffed chairs. Ms. Williamson and I didn’t say a word to each other for quite a while—we were both overwhelmed with sudden urges and didn’t want to ruin this amazing encounter with conversation. We gave each other silent approval—desperate, in fact—and plunged right in.
She pulled out the drawing of her, depicting her pulling at her own naked nipples, and smiled at me. She untucked her blouse and began to unbutton; I took off my shirt. Her blouse and bra fell to the floor and I realized that the sexual heat of soft, warm reality was way the fuck better than any kid’s drawing.
In real life, her naked tits really were a work of art, especially when she mimicked the drawing and began fondling and pulling at her hardening nipples. I began to squeeze her amazing round globes and worshiped her nipples, sucking and licking and nibbling at them as she moaned and ran her hands through the hair on my chest.
We briefly came to our senses long enough to make absolutely sure that the door was locked—and that the teacher’s lounge had no fucking security cameras! Then we were back at it.
We tore each other’s clothes off and held back from fucking for as long as we could—which wasn’t much more than 15 minutes. She lay back on one of those big chairs as I kissed and licked my way up her long sexy thighs, teasing at her glistening pussy lips with the tip of my tongue. She wasn’t in the mood for teasing and grabbed the back of my head and urged me to suck and tongue fuck her bald, dripping mound. I loved the way she was squirming and moaning, she really was desperate. It didn’t take long, and she flooded my face with wetness as she came hard and long, her whole body wracked with orgasmic spasms.
We traded places and I watched her lustful stare as she fondled my balls and stroked my fat cock. She told me it was the perfect size for sucking, and proceeded to show me what she meant. Drooling wet, slobbering blowjobs are a huge turn-on for me, and she was an absolute superstar at sucking cock.
But we both knew the real reason she had called me in for this “meeting.” This lady needed to fuck, and she needed to be fucked. We put that sofa to good use as she climbed on and started to ride me in ecstatically wild abandon. I sucked and fondled her bouncing tits as best I could, but she was absolutely out of control. It didn’t take long for her to spank and rub her swollen clit as my shaft pounded into her, and she came hard, repeatedly moaning, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh my god, fuck, yes!”
Her second orgasm didn’t slow her down one bit—she wanted more cock, deeper and harder. She was wild, insatiable. I lay her back on the sofa and she wrapped those long sexy legs around me as I began to pound the hell out of her. Our eyes locked and I just kept fucking her deeper and harder as she urged me on
“Fucking hell yes! Pound me, give me every goddam inch of that fucking dick! Fill my cunt, give it to me deeper, harder, faster! HARDER! FASTER! Fuck me, goddamit, I want to cum all over that fucking cock!!”
Certainly not the kind of talk anybody thinks will ever come from the mouth of one of their teachers!
I don’t know how I held back, but I managed to fuck her to another orgasm without cumming myself. She knew I was ready, though, and she damn sure knew what she was good at. The taste of her own pussy on my cock drove her wild, and she got on her knees in front of that sofa and sucked on my cock until she was gagging and sputtering on every deep plunge I made into her throat.
Her fingernails dug into my ass as I made a final deep thrust and she looked up at me, wide-eyed, as I pumped a thick hot load of cum into her throat. Gasping for air, she pulled away and grabbed my still-erupting cock with her slender fingers, jacking me off hard with both hands as the last of my cum spurted onto her lips and all over her unbelievable tits.
I loved the look of cum running down her body, dripping from her nipples. She kept her hands on my cock until she caught her breath, taking the time to suck it clean. I enjoyed seeing that she not only loved sucking cock, she enjoyed the taste of cum and spent a nice long time scooping up cum globs off her naked body and licking her fingers clean.
—–*–*–*–*–*–*–*
Well, there’s not much more to tell. She reassured me again that the “special artwork” would be returned to my kid’s art portfolio, she would never mention it to him or anyone. He would no doubt continue to produce more erotic drawings of Ms. Williamson, and enjoy them at home during his own “private time.”
As for me and Ms. Williamson, we both agreed that she needed to finish the school year with absolutely no sexual thoughts about any student, ever…and the best way for that to happen would be a weekly meeting with me.
Friday nights at 7 p.m. seemed to be just fine, and there was no better motivation for the two of us to get through the week. Every Friday night she would surprise me with a new and different sexy outfit, designed to make me—once again as horny as a teenage kid—want to fuck the teacher senseless.
I did my best every Friday, and I have to say that she gave me a good grade every time.
