You Couldn't Handle Me Ch. 03

How could I resist?

"Well, Tom," Ms. Graham called out, turning her attention to me, "Looks like I'll be sticking around here for a little bit till your mom gets back." I stood up as she joined me in the living room, her heels clicking on the floor. As I did, I gave her the once over again. Everyone at school viewed her as severe and bitchy, and it was amazing how differently I viewed her. She was always warm and friendly to me and far less intimidating than she was to everyone else. Looking at her, I didn't feel fear or intimidation. I looked at her like I looked at any woman I thought was hot. And Ms. Graham was very hot. Her clothes flattered her form. Her legs looked long. Her ass looked round and juicy. And her breasts looked huge. Her rock-hard nipples showed through her top.

Ms. Graham wasn't just a friend of my mom's anymore. She was in my crosshairs, and it was time to treat her like all the other women I intended to bed.

It was time to turn on the charm.

"Cool." I replied, welcoming her to the living room, inviting her to sit down. She began to walk towards the couch.

"So, you survived your last year of high-school?" she asked with a smile.

"Yeah, Ms. G. And you survived another year of students awkwardly flirting with you." I replied. Ms. Graham laughed loudly at this.

"Yeah, Tom. And they were so close to wearing me down this time." she said sarcastically.

"Maybe next year." I replied, sitting down on the love seat. As she sat on the couch, she replied.

"Yeah, maybe... maybe next year, someone will finally cash in on the bet." Ms. Graham said coyly.

"Oh, so you know about that?" I asked with a smile.

"You mean, the bet about who will be the first student to do me? Yes, I've heard." Ms. Graham said. "What do they win, anyway? Money?"

"You know, I don't really know. Respect, I guess. Legendary status in the school. But Ms. G, in your case, I'm sure the journey would be far better than the goal." I said. She cocked her head, raised an eyebrow, and smiled.

"You're smooth, Tom. You need to be careful with that. You're gonna get in trouble in college." Ms. Graham said. "Which by the way, I heard the good news! You're going to my alma mater! USC! Hopefully, you'll make us fellow Trojans proud."

"Yeah... I can't wait." I said with a smile.

"You gonna play football there?" she asked.

"Nothing official or anything, but I might be a walk-on." I replied.

"Awesome!" she said with a smile. "Hopefully, I see you out on the field."

"You go to the games?" I asked.

"I don't get there as often as I want to. But I absolutely make it up there for Homecoming. I meet up with old friends there. We should definitely meet up whenever I'm up there. We can get dinner or something." she offered.

"Sounds like a plan, Ms. Graham." I said.

"Tom, you can call me Casey." she said for the thousandth time.

"Ms. Graham, I don't know if I'll ever feel normal calling you Casey." I said to her.

"Well, maybe once you're out of school here for a while, you can get used to it." she said. She paused and looked at me, shaking her head. "Look at you. I knew you when you were this tall!" she said, holding her hand about three or four feet in the air. "Now, going to SC. Maybe playing football. And you're a smooth operator, hon. Like I said before, you'd better be careful. A guy like you could get into a lot of trouble."

"I hope so." I replied. "I love trouble."

"Who doesn't?" Ms. Graham replied deftly.

"Well, Ms. Graham, you shouldn't. You're a teacher. A responsible member of society. You can't be getting into trouble. Tearing up the town with my mom." I said.

"Hey, don't worry. I keep it classy out in public. The only trouble I get into is behind closed doors." Ms. Graham said coyly.

"Oooh, so tell me a bit more about this trouble you get into?" I asked, leaning in. She laughed.

"I don't think so. That discussion is for adults only." she said.

"Hey, I'm an adult now." I began. She rolled her eyes. "Should I ask my mom? Does she know?" I asked.

"Yeah, you do that." Ms. Graham replied with a laugh. "And besides, I get into far less trouble these days. I've got a boyfriend now."

"Yeah, I heard about that. Some successful doctor or something?" I asked.

"Yeah, he's a surgeon. He works a lot, though, leaving me free to live it up with my girls." she replied.

"Well, maybe he should work less. Who knows what trouble you might get up to going out into town without him?" I said.

"I can handle myself." she replied.

"I bet you can." I said. A bit of a silence fell before I spoke up again. "So what do you guys do when you go out?"

"Usually go out for a few drinks. Nothing too crazy." she said.

"No flirting with boys?" I asked.

"Haha... not anymore at least. Before I met Ron, sure, maybe a little bit of flirting and dancing." she said.

"Did Mom partake as well?" I asked. She smiled.

"You know your mom better than I do. She's such a shameless flirt she does it all the time. I just have to keep up." she said. "But don't get the wrong idea. She was just playing around. She didn't cross any lines or anything like that."

"I know." I began. "Trust me, I know." Another pause arose between us, before I spoke up again. "So, a doctor, huh?" I asked.

"Yeah." she said with a nod. "And he's great. We got set up by a friend, and he's really nice. It's not every day you date one of the best spinal surgeons in the world."

"Wow." I said. "Is this the guy who's gonna end Ms. Graham's days of being single?"

"I don't know about that. We've only been together a few months, so it's not like we're exactly set to walk down the aisle. Plus, he's a bit older than what I'm used to..." she said.

"How old is he?" I asked.

"He's like, uh, 45 or so." she answered.

"Oh." I replied. "You're not into older guys?"

"Not typically. I mean, I don't discriminate. I don't mind there being a few years difference, but I've never been with a guy this much older than me. But like I said, things are going great, so what do I know?" she said.

"You prefer younger guys then?" I asked.

"Wait, wait, wait..." she began with a smile. "Don't... don't take this like I'm saying I date younger guys. Don't go telling all your friends that. Give it a few days then the story will be that I love banging 18-year-olds and their big 18-year-old... uh, muscles."

"I would never imply that. I would never tell my buddies you're a fan of 18-year-old guys and their big... muscles." I said. She tossed a pillow at me. I dodged it deftly. Regaining my composure, I continued. "But, do you typically go for younger guys?" I asked again.

"Like I said, I don't discriminate." she replied.

"'l'll take that as a yes." I said. I suddenly felt another pillow being tossed at my head.

"Okay, enough about me. I've probably already said too much." Ms. Graham began with a laugh. "How about you? Any girl you're interested in?"

"Uh..." I began, thinking about how to approach this. I thought for a few seconds before deciding, what the hell. "Uh, yeah, there is."

"Oh, yeah? Tell me about her. Anyone I know?" she said.

"Um..." I began. "Probably not." I lied. "But yeah, there is a girl I'm interested in. She's a bit, uh, a bit older. And... she's the total package. But... she's giving me nothing back. She's making me jump through hoops. She's the type that likes to toy around with guys." I said. Ms. Graham nodded, knowing the type. "I'm not sure where this ends. Is she just playing with me or is there a prize at the end? I mean, she's gotta be into it. She's got to. I think she's the type that wants to be conquered. She wants to be, you know, seduced. She wants a guy to earn it."

"Is she, like married or something? Cause, I've known a few like that and they've always been married." Ms. Graham said.

"Um..." I began. "No comment."

"Tom." she said warningly. "You are playing a dangerous game here. You should know better."

"Trust me, I do, but like I said... I love trouble." I said.

"Tom, I've known you for years, and look at you now. All I'll say is that this is very adult stuff you're dealing with here. And you're just 18. You have your whole life ahead of you. There are a lot safer waters to seek." she said.

"That's the problem. She thinks I'm a boy. And trust me, I'm not." I said.

"Tom," she began, "I hate to tell you this, but you are still just a boy."

"I'm not!" I said firmly, taking her aback again. "I'm all grown up." she smiled.

"Grown-ups don't have to prove it, Tom." she replied. "There is a difference between wanting to be something and actually being something."

"Then, how do I change the conversation?" I asked. "How do I stop getting seen as one thing and start being seen as the other?" She shrugged.

"There's no magic formula. It's just a thing that happens. Maybe stop trying to make it happen, and let it happen. Things happen in time. It can't be avoided forever. What you want will come. You just have to stop looking for it." Ms. Graham said.

"So, you're saying... step back and let things happen naturally?" I asked.

"Yes." she replied. I sighed. It was good advice, and I would take it in and think about. Little did she know, she was contributing to my plot to fuck my own mom, her friend, but she didn't need to know about that.

"But I want it now." I whined sarcastically. She laughed.

"And you wonder why you are still seen as a boy." she joked.

"Sorry to get heavy there." I said.

"Don't worry about it." she said. "But, I'm still single, technically, so what do I know?"

Despite the serious nature of the conversation, my plan was to still bang her. I was thinking on the fly here, but I knew I had to change the direction of conversation a bit.

"So, what you said is one way to do it." I replied. "But in all seriousness, what if I can't be patient? What if time is against me? Is there a more direct approach?"

"Well, maybe for some people. I can only speak for myself." I replied.

"But what you're saying is all in a bubble. An ideal. Nice, but impractical. And I kinda don't believe in it." I began. "But you can't say a lot of girls have that much patience. Whenever I look at a problem, I think that there has to be a solution. When I look at a girl, I think the same thing. No matter who she is, there has to be a combination of words and actions I can do to, uh, you know, get with her."

"That's an... interesting idea." Ms. Graham said.

"And, if you can get something to happen in three weeks, you can probably make it happen now, right?" I asked.

"I think you're oversimplifying things." she began. "Time changes people and context."

"Yeah it does, but it doesn't really matter. You take one look at a person and you know whether or not you would ever be with them. You may tell someone you're not interested, but you've already made that mental checkmark that decided instantaneously if you would hook up with someone or not. So my question is... why wait? Why put it off? Why play this game if you both are rooting for the same thing, especially when the only changes will be, you know, cosmetic?"

Ms. Graham took a long pause before laughing lightly.

"You've clearly put some thought into this." she said. "I can't say I've never led a guy on a bit. And sometimes... there might be a 2% chance I would ever be with someone, but sometimes, it's fun to see a guy humble himself and work a bit. I will say I've become more interested in a guy when I see him take the time to work, to put in the effort."

"But why wait then? You've already decided you would be willing to hook up with this guy, then why mess around? Why not take what you both want?" I asked. She smiled.

"You're trying to make it sound simple, but it's more complicated."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Context changes everything." she said. "A guy could be super cute, super nice, but he could either be a lawyer, or a homeless bum on the street. Things change with context. Somebody might be cute, but I might not hook up with someone if he was my boss, or coworker," she began.

"Or student." I interjected. She sighed.

"Yes, or a student. But, if he was some stranger, from a different place in the world, a different context, those doors might be open." she said.

"But either way, the decision's already made. You've already made up your mind about this person. The only thing deciding your level of interest is the circumstance. You spin webs to tell yourself you're not interested when you are. So why not ignore the context?" I asked.

"Cause you can't." Ms. Graham said. "You can't ignore those things when dealing with another person. That's how society works."

"But do you think this context can be overcome? Can you convince someone to ignore it?" I asked.

"I'm sure it's possible. It's hard, but I suppose it's possible." she said.

"So then you agree with me! It is possible, through some words or actions, to get someone to ignore their preconceived notions, ignore what society says and just do what they want?" I asked.

"Theoretically, yes, I guess." she replied.

"Take you, for example, and this whole silly bet thing..." I began. "It is against the rules, against all ethics for you to hook up with a student. But would you agree that it is theoretically possible that some student of yours could do just the right thing to make you forget about all that other stuff?"

"Well, I'm guessing it's possible. It would take something a hell of a lot more that what I've seen out of any student before, but it is theoretically possible, I guess." Ms. Graham said. "I think the bigger the barrier, the more work it would take to break it down quickly. The Grand Canyon didn't form in a week. It took millions of years of erosion."

"I don't have a million years." I replied.

"But you do have a couple years." she said. "You can be patient. Taking your time is always the best policy, in my opinion."

There was a long pause before she shook her head and smiled.

"Wow, Tom. Little did I know I could have a philosophical conversation about the nature of relationships with the high-school quarterback. That was fun! I'm impressed." she marveled.

"Hey, I'm full of surprises." I said. I stood up and stretched, my shirt lifting up a bit, showing off my fit torso to Ms. Graham's hopefully greedy eyes. I stepped over towards the couch.

"You want anything to drink or something?" I asked.

"No, I'm good. Thanks, though." she replied.

"So..." I began, checking my non-existent watch. "Mom's gonna be awhile. What are we gonna do to pass the time?" I asked with a cocky smile. She looked at me inquisitively.

"Don't get any ideas." she said with a warm smile. I held up my hands and smiled.

"Well, you did say there was a chance." I replied, sitting close to her arrogantly, putting my arm on the couch behind her. She rolled her eyes and readjusted herself, moving a bit away from me.

"Don't embarrass yourself, Tom." she said, amused. "I must say, I agree with your mystery crush. You're still a boy. Stick to girls your own age."

"I already stuck it to all the girls my age in school." I said proudly. "I'm looking for a challenge."

"Ewww." Ms. Graham said. "I didn't need to hear that. And... besides, judging by the girls in your class, that's not that impressive of an accomplishment."

"Wow, Ms. Graham. Look at you, judging your students so harshly." I replied.

"Hey, I'm still human." she began. "Just because I'm their teacher doesn't mean I ignore the facts. It's actually my job not to ignore the facts."

"Hey, you would be surprised about the girls I've been with." I bragged.

"I don't want to know." she said, grossed out by this line of conversation.

"I think Carrie Mulder was in your class, right? One of your favorite students... one of the, like, five girls who took your AP Calculus class? The valedictorian?" I said.

"Yeah, right." she said, now interested once I mentioned one of her favorite students. "No offense, but I don't see her as your type."

"Well, like I said..." I began, reaching for my phone and scrolling through it, before turning it so she could see. "I'm full of surprises."

"Ewww. Ew ew ew..." she repeated, glancing at my phone before turning away, standing up and backing away in disgust. On my phone was a picture was Carrie's cute, smiling face, coated with my cum. "I did not need to see that! That's gross, Tom."

"Hey, you doubted me." I replied, nonplussed. "Like I said, I'm full or surprises." I repeated.

"You're clearly full of something." she replied.

"You have no idea." I replied with a smirk.

"I think I should go. Clearly, you've lost it." Ms. Graham said, stepping towards the table to grab her purse. As she reached out to grab it, I stepped between her and the table. Her outstretched hand jolted back, coming dangerously close to my crotch. She stood up and straightened her blouse. Annoyed, she looked at me.

"Tom." she warned, the humor in her voice gone as her tone became more firm. "Stop this now while you can still pass it off as a bad joke."

"I'm not joking, Casey." I began, slowly approaching. "Trust me, I've seen it from for a while now. You flirting with me. Twirling your hair. Winking. I know you want it. Let's just cut through the bullshit and do this."

"Keep dreaming Tom," she began with a sneer. "I've dealt with cocky little shits like you for ten years now. And not one even got close."

"Well, I was never in your class." I replied. "You want to know why the guys always went after you?" I began, walking slowly towards her. "It's not just cause you're smoking hot and you're packing those giant DD's." she nodded, clearly slightly impressed that I had guessed her cup size. "It's cause you are clearly gagging for it. They can smell it on you. I think you're hornier than we are. I think you're exactly like the woman I'm pursuing. You love playing games. You want to be conquered. You want a student of yours to step up and take you like you a man." Ms. Graham listened intently as I spoke. "You said there was only a small chance, but you admit there is a chance. You want it, cause you know how hot it would be. Some brash, arrogant, 18-year-old douchebag charming the pants off you. You're such a smart, bright, professional woman. You're dating a rich, talented surgeon, but there's that nagging part of you that knows you would risk it all just to get railed by some dumb, dickhead high-school football player with a huge cock."

Ms. Graham's eyes were glassy with lust, so I knew I was hitting a nerve. Her butt bumped into the glass kitchen table, and I stopped a few feet in front of her. I pressed on, going on the offensive.

"Just admit it, Casey." I began. "Admit I'm right. I can see it on you. You're a bitch to any student who hits on you. You push them all away but you want to pull them closer. You're gagging for it. You can't stop thinking about it. The thought of a teacher fucking a student drives you wild. You go every week to the bar and shake your hot ass and those big fucking tits and hope you run into one of those high-school studs you want so much. You hope they see you slutting it up on the dance floor. You told me you like guys who take it nice and slow, but deep down, you want it hard and fast, don't you? Don't you?" I asked firmly, stepping in close, our bodies inches apart.

I looked at her. She was breathing deep. Her red hair was shimmering past her shoulders. Her nipples were pointing at me through her top. Her plump lips parted slowly, a single band of spit connecting them before snapping. Her head moved to my ear and she began to whisper.

"You asked me before if I preferred older men. I told you I didn't discriminate." she paused, moving her lips millimeters from my ear. I could feel her breath on me as she whispered airily into my ear. "But... I lied. You're right... I do like younger guys. I love it when you young guys, my students or... frat guys from the college... I love it when they hit on me. I love it when they ignore the girls their own age in favor of a real woman like me. I love it when they have to go home and pleasure themselves to the thought of me."