Teaching Too Well Ch. 01

All characters in the story are completely fictional and have no relation to any one person living or dead. All characters are also above the age of 18.

Chapter 1: The Job and Mrs. Bramstead

I sat in a waiting room with three other men about my age, all clearly having just left graduate school in search of a successful first teaching job. The difference between the other teaching candidates and myself was I did not need this job. After all, I was a Scarsdale.

Scarsdale's were known throughout New York City and high society for their extreme wealth but their joy of keeping job's that usually the middle class holds. My father was a great surgeon and instead of working a job at one of the finest clinics in the world he chose to work at an E.R. in lower Manhattan. My mother who was trained to be a great violinist settled for a life of relative ease but painful five year olds playing the violin; she became a teacher.

So then there is myself. Graduate of Bennington's High School, one of the finest private schools on the East Coast, who went on to be an undergraduate at Princeton majoring in Literature after which enrolling in Columbia Graduate School for Education, known as one of the finest institutions for Education. Why then was I applying for a job at a magnet school in Connecticut?

I suppose I wanted some real life experience and the best idea I could come up with was the idea of teaching at a school in Connecticut called Sinclair High School. I was applying for the Senior English Department which meant I would be teaching only Senior year of high school. The interesting thing about this year was the system was a year more than most high schools. Instead of the traditional four years of high school there were five, pre-Frosh being the first.

So I had my interview and my class session with the kids showing the faculty what I could bring to the school and I felt I had done reasonably well. The faculty seemed to like me sufficiently and I was able to strike up interesting conversation with the students. Being a Scarsdale we didn't have to give much effort to get people to like us.

My parents were that of the top breeding, much like horses. Not only was my father born rich but so was my mother. The most interesting part about their relationship was that they were both extremely beautiful and for a couple in their late fifties still are. My parents were very much in love at the time they married and still are which I suppose granted them the right to have me.

One of the things about being attractive is for the first few years of your young adult life when girls and adults keep telling you that you are quite attractive you don't believe them. You figure they must be mistaken and the girls must be horny so they just want to do anything to get you to bed. Then after a while you start believing them. You dress a certain way to accentuate your assets and you start working out at the gym to perfect yourself. Eventually you start believing what people have always been saying and you too belief that in fact, you are quite beautiful.

Therefore I had always been stuck with an air of confidence throughout high school, college and graduate school. I wouldn't say that I was promiscuous but I had quite a bit of sex. Of course this wasn't just loose sex I was having but it was relationships with quite a bit of sex.

So I continued to sit there as the three men next to me sat there as if they had just been called to the principal's office. I laughed under my breath looking at the three of them wondering why they were so nervous. I began to feel a little guilty because I knew they would give me the job here I was just too qualified for them not to hand it to me.

After a few more moments of sitting with these awkward gentlemen Harold Jameson, the Dean of Students, came out to greet me. He extended his hand as he walked across the room. I stood up meeting his hand with mine and shaking firmly. I gave him my usual nice boy grin and he smiled heartily back at me. "Come on in, we are all waiting to talk to you."

I followed him into the room where about five members of the school sat. I recognized all of them from previous meetings accept one. There was a woman in her late thirties or early forties sitting at the end of one table who was glaring at me. I stood by my chair waiting for permission to sit down.

"Please sit down." I took my sit quickly and thanked him. "I know you've met almost everyone here." The group nodded as I looked around. A few of them gave a cordial 'good to see you' or 'how are you.' Then I looked at the woman at the end of the table hoping to elicit a response.

"Nice to meet you Miss...?" I stretched out my hand to greet her.

"Julia Bramstead." Finally she spoke, "Mrs. Julia Bramstead." She didn't take my cuteness to call her "Miss" playfully as I had intended. This show of distance from such a beautiful woman was oddly arousing. Not only that but she had an amazing voice to listen to. She had a seductive nature to her voice, a calming purr yet a forewarning that she was that of a 1940's femme fatale.

The meeting began and Harold and other members of the school board spoke about what the school's mission is and how they go about their daily routines. I exchanged ideas briefly on how I feel class should be constructed and told them about the things I had learned at Columbia. Overall they seemed very impressed, all but Mrs. Julia Bramstead of course.

In general she seemed very uninterested in me. Occasionally it seemed as if she were bored of hearing me talk. A few times I had glanced over and seen she was either writing down notes or she was tracing her cheek with her index finger. For the hour that I was there she never once smiled and when she and I did make eye contact it was in the most condescending manner.

I left the meeting feeling very uneasy. I had gone in with confidence knowing I was assured the job. Still I assumed I had the job but Mrs. Julia Bramstead left me feeling uncomfortable. Who was she anyways? She was definitely not a teacher and it didn't seem she was a dean or member of the administration. All said I would still have to wait for the phone call from Harold.

Three days went by before I heard anything. I had occupied myself by going to the gym and sculling out on the Charles River. I had returned from an early morning on the water at about nine when I received the phone call from Harold.

"Pete." There was a tone of disappointment in his voice. "We have to talk. Look, it's not me Pete, I want to give you the job. It's that goddamn director of the Parent's Board, Mrs. Bramstead." So that's what she was. It seemed that Julia Bramstead was the liaison between the parents and the faculty. I continued to listen to Harold, "Don't be mad at me Pete. I want to give you the job but Mrs. Bramstead demands that she meets with you first. She said a few things about complaints she had about your character and your attitude towards learning. I don't know."

"My attitude towards learning?" I interrupted him. I had become severely annoyed by this woman very quickly. Apparently she was out to get me the moment I walked in the room.

"Look Pete, listen."

I wasn't in the mood to listen now. "Harold, can I meet with this woman?"

"Yes, she wants to meet with you tomorrow. Let me give you her number." Harold gave me the woman's number and as soon as we hung up and he apologized thirty more times I immediately dialed this woman.

I heard the low cooing woman's voice on the other end. "Hello?"

"Hi, this is Peter Scarsdale."

"Ah, Mr. Scarsdale we have much to discuss and unfortunately for you I find it hard to find time for these things." What a rude bitch this woman was. She seemed so volatile for no apparent reason. Being curious of course I wanted to get to the root of this hatred.

"Yes when can we meet?"

"Tomorrow, be here at my house at ten a.m., alright?" She gave me the address and before I could bid her farewell she hung up the phone.

I spent the night in a horrendous sleep tossing and turning. For the first time in my life I had encountered someone who was neither taken in by my charm nor appeased by my good looks.

I awoke in the early morning and went out to go for a sunrise sculling expedition to get my endorphins flowing. I did not last very long on the water being very distracted by my upcoming meeting in a few hours.

I took a shower when I returned home and prepared my nicest business casual outfit I could find. A light blue striped button down shirt with a pleasing yellow tie and black slacks were the outfit I would wear to Mrs. Bramstead. The slacks were snug fitting around the crotch and gave my package a nice look and perhaps an attractive woman like herself might be distracted by a straining eight inch cock.

I drove speedily to her house, making sure I arrived early. I pulled into her driveway which revealed a gorgeous white mansion with black shudders on all the windows. I was quite impressed at Mrs. Bramstead and the whole family's status. I parked my Mercedes outside of the front door and walked up to ring the doorbell.

After a minute or so which had seemed like an eternity, a young girl answered the door. This girl was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous; she was about five foot nine, light brown hair and thin. She had amazing green eyes that pierced me giving me a bit of heartache. As soon as she answered the door she looked at me and perked up a bit. She pushed out her beautiful tits to accentuate how full they were.

"Hi." She had an angels voice, "can I help you?"

"Uh, yeah." I stumbled for words. "I am here to see Mrs. Julia Bramstead." She was playing with her white blouse when I spoke and bit her bottom lip. "I'm Peter Scarsdale."

"Oh, hi! Yeah, I think she's expecting you. She is out on a run now but she should be back soon. Come in." I entered the foyer of the house to see party directions strewn all over the place. "Excuse the mess," she guided me through the room, "we just had my eighteenth birthday."

"Looks like it must have been a blast." I was not looking at the decorations as much I was looking at this beautiful girl with fresh eyes now. I didn't feel so perverted any more staring at a young girl only a few years my junior. When she turned around to guide me to the living room she had a button undone of her blouse revealing heavenly cleavage.

"Yeah, we had a lot of fun. But I feel bad because now everything has to get cleaned up. I offered to help but mom, said Maria our maid would do it. Here you can wait in here." I entered an enormous living room with grandiose furniture placed throughout. She guided me to a sofa and I sat down. She plopped herself down on a lounge chair tucking her legs underneath her. Her short white skirt rose up a little on her leg.

"So you are going to be a new teacher?" She started to force conversation, probably from feeling uncomfortable me staring at her up and down.

"Well that's what I am here to discuss with your mother." I tried to give off a hint of spite towards her mother.

"Yeah she can be a bitch." She caught on to my tone quickly. "Don't worry though, a teacher as hot as you deserves the job. When you start teaching the girls will all be clambering to get their hands down your pants." She laughed and I tried to but all that came out was a long deep exhale.

I looked around trying to think of something to say to this girl but all I could think of was, 'would you like to feel my cock inside of you?' or 'have you ever had your pussy eaten out?' Finally I was able to think of something, "I don't think I caught your name."

"It's Amanda. I am going to be a Senior at Sinclair." I nodded my head to show my approval. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Yeah, just a glass of water. Thanks." I watched as Amanda bounced out of the room into the kitchen. Her skirt and hair bobbed with every step and as she walked out I followed her beautiful hips swinging out of the room.

I sat staring outside of the window and was startled by the sudden amount of commotion coming from behind me. I turned around swiftly to see Julia Bramstead walk in the room. She was wearing tight spandex shorts that accentuated her perfectly curved ass as well as a sports bra that could barely contain her breasts that looked even fresher than her daughters.

"Hello, Mr. Scarsdale, who let you in." She was holding on to a towel wiping off her face.

"Your daughter, Amanda." I stood while talking to her in hopes of winning points at being polite. That and I felt weird sitting. I felt weird no matter what.

"Please sit down, Mr. Scarsdale, I just have to get a glass of water." The commotion left pretty quickly and I slowly sat down. Amanda re-entered the room holding a glass of water.

"Here you are Peter." My god, hearing this girl call me 'Peter' was amazing. She handed me the glass of water and slid down onto the couch. I drank a big gulp quickly.

"Thank you." Amanda and I stared at each other briefly and smiled. Julia walked in the room and broke the moment we had.

"Amanda, I have to take a shower can you keep Mr. Scarsdale company for a few minutes?" My prayers had been answered. I got to be alone with this beautiful young girl and who knows what could happen.

"Sure thing Mom." Amanda replied to her mother politely. We both watched her mother walk out of the room and up the stairs then I turned to smile at Amanda.

"So, tell me about yourself." I tried to think of anything to break the awkwardness quickly.

"Well, I just turned eighteen." She started counting all the things she could say about that. I nodded. "Wait, I already said that. I guess I am just really excited about that."

"Sure, you can buy cigarettes and porn." I laughed trying to signal this was a joke. She paused and giggled.

"Well I guess I'm most excited because that means I'm not illegal anymore." I stared at her with my mouth agape then laughed briefly. She giggled in a very girly manner and I gave another short laugh.

"I mean, I've never had sex before other than with this one guy from school but I would hardly call that sex. Did you have a lot of sex in high school?" She probed trying to find out more about me.

"Yeah, well no, I wouldn't call it sex either." I tried to change the subject even though this girl was clearly flirting with me. "You like your English classes?" I felt that this could get too out of hand with her mother being a shout away.

"Well I like poetry. Romantic poetry gets me pretty horny and I get a little frisky in class." She moved closer and placed her hand on my thigh. "I keep thinking of some of the sonnets we read last year during our Shakespeare unit." Her hand slid a little higher towards my crotch. I began to strain against my slacks. "I can see you like poetry too." She was staring right at my crotch and her hand began to massage its way up closer to my strained cock.

"You could say that." I looked into her eyes and she giggle again. She moved slowly towards my face and placed her hand around my shaft through the pants. I moaned softly.

"Amanda," her mom shouted, "can you get me a glass of water?" We both jumped slightly as we heard her mom coming down the stairs.

"Sure, Mom," she shouted back and moved her lips to my ear, "We aren't done here, you have a huge cock." Amanda jumped up and bounced again to the kitchen. Her skirt had ridden up and I could see the bottom part of her supple ass. Her black lace thong was slightly showing and I could see she was a little wet.

Julia came down in a silk bathrobe. I thought to myself, this is too much, but what could I do? Julia was drying her wet hair with a towel as she sat down taking Amanda's place on the couch. Amanda walked in handing her the glass of water. "Here mom," Amanda said.

"Honey, can you go upstairs while Mr. Scarsdale and I have our meeting?" Julia asked her daughter sweetly. It was the nicest I had ever heard Mrs. Bramstead speak to anyone. Amanda complied and I watched her leave the room and she bit her bottom lip as she looked at me.

"Let me get straight to the point Mr. Scarsdale." Here it comes. "I know your family is very wealthy and that's all fine and well but there are certain things I have to take into account this year." I think she just plain didn't like me; that was the only reasonable explanation I could come up with for her hostility. "My daughter is sweet isn't she?" I was shocked at this question.

"I suppose," I didn't know what to say, "I only briefly spoke with her." I was suspicious of this line of questioning.

"Well, she is sweet. And I care for her very much. More than her father ever did and I am very protective of her." My stomach sank realizing that she must have seen what looked like me fondling her daughter. Surely there were cameras around this house. "And I would like to get to know all of the teachers who are going to be preparing my daughter, and of course all of the other children, to go to college."

I was unbelievably relieved and I tried to hide my relief from my face. "I certainly understand Mrs. Bramstead. If she were my daughter I would want the best for her as well." I couldn't help but try buttering her up.

"Well," the hostility was back in her voice. "She's not your daughter." I shook my head. "What kind of man are you Mr. Scarsdale?"

"I don't understand." I was confused.

"Are you married, or do you have a girlfriend?" I shook my head again. "But you plan on getting married, correct? I mean you aren't gay."

"No." I responded quickly.

"No you don't plan on getting married?" A confused look covered my face again.

"No I plan on getting married and no I am not gay."

"Well this job would be easier for you if you were gay. There are going to be a lot of temptations Peter." She turned her body towards me and I could see that her nipples were poking her silk bathrobe. I glanced down at her breasts quickly as she looked away to see her perfect supple breasts trying to escape from that thin material. Unfortunately I had gazed one moment too long.

"Peter." I looked her square in the eyes. "Do you want this job?" I nodded my head. She beckoned me to come closer with her finger. "Come here." I slid closer to her and suddenly I saw a flash of white light. She had slapped me and stood up refastening her robe.

"Jesus." I tried to restrain from saying anything more. She turned around and stared at me again. We gazed at each other.

She spoke slowly in that seductive tone again, "I know what you want. You think I should give it to you." I was still holding my hand against where she had slapped me. She slowly walked with a sway towards me and stood over me. Her robe had come slightly undone and a good portion of her juicy tits were revealed. "You may not be the subtlest man I've ever encountered but you certainly are the most attractive."

She bent over taking my hand away from my face and she kissed my cheek. Her soft lips felt like roses against my cheek and I quickly forgot the sharp pain she had left me. I moved my hand over her curvy side starting from her hips and moving up to her face. I took her face with both of my hands and kissed her lips passionately. We kissed, opening our mouths, our tongues playing and chasing each other around our moths. We would exchange, her putting her tongue in my mouth and me putting mine in hers.

The kissing was passionate and fiery and lasted for a long time. My hands worked down slowly across her breasts feeling her erect nipples through the silk down to her hips. I grabbed her and moved her quickly down to the couch. Hitting the soft pillows she bounced and her silk robe opened a little more, teasing me with most of her perfect tits.

I moved on top of her and continued kissing her. Her hands were moving furiously across my back and over my chest. I slowly caressed her supple breasts with my hands under her silk robe. They were absolutely perfect and were just a little bigger than a handful.