tagMatureHelping Mrs. Culmer

Helping Mrs. Culmer

bylittlecordelera©

I don't normally write mature-style stories. It's a category that holds no interest to me, but I had started the following story out of a request some years ago, and I thought I would finish it up and give it a try. For you mature fans, I hope you find it enjoyable.

The following story is fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places, or events is purely coincidental.

********

It came as no surprise that Mr. Jensen had never been married. He viewed the world with an air of condescension, and from the smell of things, he didn't seem to be too fond of soap and water, either. He taught social studies at Covington High School, and his class was an absolute torture of boredom, so when there came a knock upon his classroom door in the middle of a lecture one day, every one of his students let go a sigh of relief. Mr. Jensen turned to see Mrs. Culmer entering the room. She was the school nurse. Her own children had attended Covington. Her youngest, Molly, had graduated three years earlier.

"Excuse me, Mr. Jensen," she said. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need Andy Tilton."

Andy had been expecting Mrs. Culmer, and he immediately began collecting his books.

"And what's this about?" Mr. Jensen asked.

Mrs. Culmer smiled politely.

"It's a private matter."

"Well, he's leaving in the middle of my class. Am I not owed an explanation?"

Mrs. Culmer continued smiling.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss it. You know that, Mr. Jensen."

Mr. Jensen watched with contempt as Andy made his way up the aisle toward Mrs. Culmer.

"Well, well, Mr. Tilton. Must be nice," he said. "Not only do you get a special seat in the class, you get to leave whenever you want!"

"Mr. Jensen, Andy is not leaving of his own accord," Mrs. Culmer explained. "I am removing him from the class."

Everybody knew that Andy had been born with some physical problems, so it wasn't unusual for him to have to leave for doctor's appointments and things of that nature. One of his defects was a malformed bladder , so Mrs. Culmer had seen to it that he was allowed to sit in the last seat near the back door of every class so he could quietly leave for bathroom breaks as needed. In addition, she had made sure that he was provided a permanent hall pass for those bathroom trips.

But Mrs. Culmer was always that way. If a student was sick or had a disability, she fought whatever battle she had to fight to make sure they were treated fairly.

Andy stepped up to her, and Mrs. Culmer turned to Mr. Jensen.

"I'll come by after dismissal to pick up his homework instructions," she said.

Mr. Jensen looked at her like she was crazy.

"You expect me to write up his homework instructions?"

"If you wouldn't mind," Mrs. Culmer replied.

"Pfft!" Mr. Jensen responded. "I'm not writing that up for him. He's leaving in the middle of my class! He can call any one of 22 other people!" he said, motioning to the other students in the class.

The calm and polite Mrs. Culmer had heard enough, but as always, she remained calm and polite.

"Mr. Jensen," she said, "I will come by after dismissal to pick up Andy's homework instructions. Or, if you would like, I can notify the Department of Education that you were unwilling to provide them."

Mary Beth Harper quietly turned to Sarah Jennings with a smirk. Score one for Mrs. Culmer.

She led Andy out of the room, and once she was gone, Mr. Jensen addressed his class.

"Did you guys know that Mrs. Culmer does not drink or smoke or, good heavens, use bad language?"

Everybody knew that.

"She doesn't eat sugar, she doesn't use fertilizer or bug sprays in her precious garden, and she hasn't missed church in seventeen years," Mr. Jensen said, rolling his eyes. "Oh! And I just found out a few days ago, that she has never, ever, ever worn a two piece bathing suit. Even when she was your age! She thinks they're inappropriate!"

Jack Mueller spoke up from the back of the class.

"I've never worn a two piece either, Mr. Jensen."

The class erupted in laughter.

"Please, spare us the image Mr. Mueller," Mr. Jensen replied. "But maybe you can join Mrs. Culmer. You two should get along just fine."

That was okay with Jack. Mrs. Culmer may have been pristine and lily white, but for reasons none of them could really explain, all the boys thought she was seriously hot. She was universally regarded as a very attractive woman for her age, but that wasn't it. There was something about Mrs. Culmer. All the students liked her and looked up to her and treated her with a great deal of respect, but at the same time, in a vague sort of way, it always felt like she was hiding something. She just seemed too wholesome to be true.

Maybe that was it. Maybe it was the mystery that made her so hot.

********

The Culmer's lake house was a modest, three-bedroom dwelling on the shores of Dawn Lake. It was a log cabin with a green tin roof, and it was surrounded by woods and quiet and accessed through a narrow gravel drive off of Highway 30. Adirondack chairs sat on the overgrown front lawn facing the view, and a gray and aged dock extended into the placid water. It was a peaceful setting, away from the city bustle, where serenity calmed the nerves and relaxed a tired brain.

It was the kind of place that could provide a much needed break for Daniel Burgess. His first year of college was coming to an end, and the transition from high school had been a difficult one. College classes were much more difficult, the workload was overwhelming, and now, with final exams approaching, he still had a major paper to write. The Culmer's lake house was just the place he needed to be, even if that meant working there for a day.

He arrived a little after lunchtime in an old, black Honda with a skull mounted to the dash, a pair of drum sticks rolling around on the floorboard, and Godsmack booming from the speakers. He shut the car off, jogged up the steps, and rang the doorbell. The sky was blue and the sun was bright, but the wind was picking up and dark clouds loomed in the distance. He heard the deadbolt unlatch, and Mrs. Culmer opened the door.

"Hello, Danny," she said. "Come on in, sweetie."

"Hey, Mrs. Culmer," he replied, stepping inside and feeling the titillation that always accompanied her enticing fragrance.

She was dressed in black leggings - a huge surprise to Daniel - and a short sleeve blouse with cuffs. Her soft brown hair was pulled back with a clip, and two wavy tresses were left to dangle at her cheeks.

"I really appreciate you doing this for me," she told him.

"It's not a problem. Mom said you needed help."

"I sure do," she replied. "Mr. Culmer has gotten so lazy I can hardly get him out here anymore."

Daniel surveyed the open and familiar space. It was a large, rustic room with windows that looked out over the lake. There was a stone fireplace on the back wall, a counter with bar stools separated the open kitchen, and log beams spanned the vaulted ceiling.

"If we had a place like this, I'd be out here all the time," Daniel said.

Mrs. Culmer smiled. "I remember when you took our canoe all the way to the boat landing and back. How old were you then? Eighth grade?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"You were just a scrawny kid, then," she replied. "How tall are you now? Six feet?"

"Six foot two."

Mrs. Culmer put her hands on her hips. "You're a whole foot taller than I am!"

Daniel wore jeans and a plain white T-shirt, which he filled out nicely, and for the first time Mrs. Culmer could see the young man he had become. He was a "strapping boy" in the prime of his health, with supple skin and clear eyes and that youthful vigor, but what was best about Daniel was his boyish innocence. He had a vigorous hunger for the future that remained tempered by a naiveté of the path.

Mrs. Culmer's eyes passed quickly over his athletic physique.

As before, Daniel felt that vague something.

"That was the year Megan got the flu," she said. "Poor thing! She came to my office begging me to do something so she wouldn't miss prom, but I sent your sister straight home. I don't think she has forgiven me, yet!"

"Yeah. Megan can be kind of bitchy sometimes."

Mrs. Culmer tilted her head down. "Danny," she said, gently admonishing him, "let's not talk about your sister that way. I've never known Megan to be unpleasant."

Daniel disagreed, but he wasn't going to tell Mrs. Culmer that. Instead, he averted his eyes so he wouldn't have to respond. Mrs. Culmer crossed her arms.

"Danny," she warned.

"Yes, Ma'am," he reluctantly replied. "I guess not."

Mrs. Culmer's expression took on a smirk.

"It was your sister who told me about my nickname at school."

Daniel's face blushed. Not only did Mrs. Culmer know about her nickname, but the fact that she was even mentioning it felt inappropriate. And she did it with a smirk!

Daniel's eyes got wide.

"Mrs. Culmer, I've never called you that," he lied.

"Oh, it's alright," she said, and she turned for the kitchen. "It's my middle name."

Daniel furrowed his brow. He was totally perplexed. Incredulous. He scrunched his nose and asked, "It's your middle name?"

"Sure is," she said. She entered the kitchen area, pulled out a pot, and began filling it with water. Daniel took off his ball cap and scratched his head. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. He stepped over to the bar that separated the kitchen from the great room and rested his hands on a bar stool.

"Your middle name is 'submarine'?" he asked.

Mrs. Culmer turned off the water and looked up. Now her expression was puzzled. She wondered if she had heard him correctly.

"Wait. What?"

In that instant they both realized they were talking about two different nicknames. The conversation was stabbed in the face and fell dead to the floor. In the uncomfortable pause, they blushed in unison.

"I'm making some tea if you'd like some," she said, changing the subject. She turned away and placed the pot on the stove.

Daniel closed his eyes and whispered to himself, "Fuck!"

Mrs. Culmer was slightly overweight, like a layer of baby fat that added a motherly softness to her curvy figure, but her most glaring feature were her prominent and projecting boobs. She always kept them well hidden, but they were the fantasy of every male at the school, and there hadn't been a single one who hadn't jerked off to the thought of sucking on her luscious tits.

Principal Meekly included.

And it should be noted that while all the teachers incessantly yielded to Principal Meekly, Principal Meekly yielded to Mrs. Culmer.

She was good friends with Daniel's mom, Kathy, and ever since they met, Mrs. Culmer had become the Burgess family's medical advisor. She was also Daniel and Megan's emergency contact and substitute mom. She had driven them to and from school on countless occasions, stepped in as their advocate when the world of unfairness set its sights upon them, and nursed them through all types of sicknesses. She tutored Daniel through Pre-Calculus in his senior year, and during that time, sitting alone with him at her quiet kitchen table, she and the burgeoning young man had become close. She liked that he was polite and respectful and always did his work. He liked that she was kind and reassuring and always smelled so good.

And besides, sitting with her gave him ample opportunity to steal glances at the voluminous mounds under her thoroughly buttoned-up blouse.

A million times he had tried to decide exactly what they looked like.

She called him, Danny. His mom was the only other person who called him that. Everyone else called him, Daniel.

Sometimes at night when he lie in bed, alone in the dark, he would think about the way Mrs. Culmer said his name. It always sounded so caring. Her soft voice cradled his heart and carried him away to a place that soothed his worries. It was like he had his head in her lap, and she was looking down at him and lovingly stroking his bangs across his forehead.

And her bold, audacious breasts were right there at his face.

Those nights always culminated in jerking off.

His first chore that day was cutting the grass. It was a hot day, and with the thick clouds came high humidity, and it didn't take long before Daniel was soaked in sweat. Mrs. Culmer brought him a glass of iced tea, and in between his gulps of the cold liquid, she dipped a wash cloth in a bowl of ice water and wiped the sweat from his face.

"You doing okay?" she asked. The slight wrinkles of crow's feet fanned out from the corners of her bright eyes.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"You need to stay hydrated. I don't want you collapsing from heat exhaustion. How would I explain that to your mother?" she joked. She dipped the cloth again and caringly wiped away the trickling beads of sweat. Daniel would have stood there forever.

"When you finish the grass, come inside and take a break. I've got a snack ready for you."

She smiled, took his empty glass, and turned for the house. Daniel didn't want her to leave, but as she walked away he was entranced at the way her pleasingly plump ass cheeks moved up and down. He had never seen her in leggings before. God, what a treat it was! And it didn't matter that she was in her late 40's. Mrs. Culmer knew how to work some fucking leggings!

She ascended the few steps to the back porch, stopped, and looked back. Daniel quickly lifted his eyes from her enticing rear.

Mrs. Culmer smiled.

Daniel smiled back. He hoped she hadn't caught him checking out her ass.

It took him about 15 minutes to finish cutting the grass. When he entered the house to take a break, Mrs. Culmer set out finger sandwiches, a bowl of mixed nuts, apples, bananas, humus, and Naan bread, fresh from the oven. He hung his sweat-soaked hat on the back of a chair and sat on a bench seat across the small table from her. He ate like there was no tomorrow, while Mrs. Culmer wondered how a person could put away so much food. During that time, she was up to her elbows in a large bowl of soapy water, washing various trinkets that decorated the cabin. The bowl dipped each time she reached inside as her forearm pressed against the rim.

"Danny," she said, "do me a favor, sweetie, and come hold this bowl for me."

Daniel walked around and straddled the bench facing her. He was so close he could feel the heat of her body. He could smell her intoxicating fragrance. But best of all, as she paid attention to the task at hand, Daniel's eyes could bury themselves in her glorious mounds of breasts.

He held the bowl with one hand, ate finger sandwiches with the other, and tried not to drool.

"Aren't you going to eat something?" he asked.

"I was hoping to get this finished, first," she replied, "but you can do me a favor and peel one of those bananas for me."

Daniel broke a banana off the bunch, pulled down the peel in strips, and held it up for her. Mrs. Culmer turned her head his way with her hands immersed in the bowl and prepared to take a bite. But the thick banana was standing straight up, awaiting her pretty mouth to come down on it, and the unavoidable innuendo fell headlong into the room. Having already leaned toward it, she paused, and glanced up at Daniel. He looked at the substitute cock in his hand, and then looked up into her eyes. The awkwardness caused Mrs. Culmer to move her face hesitatingly toward the phallic object, slowing her down even more, and thereby making the whole lewd insinuation all the more suggestive. Daniel watched her wrap her caressing lips around the suggestive thickness, and a generous rush of blood surged into his young cock.

Mrs. Culmer finished off her one bite of banana while washing a ceramic turtle. She told Daniel to leave the rest of the banana on a paper plate.

"How's school going?" she asked.

"It's hard. I'm not sure I can do it."

She turned him with her hands submerged in the bowl.

"What do you mean you're not sure you can do it? Of course you can."

"I don't know, Mrs. Culmer," he admitted. "Engineering is hard. It's really hard."

She looked into him with empathy.

"Oh, Danny," she said warmly. Her compassion cradled his heart. "I know it's difficult, sweetie. But I know you can do it. And I'm not just saying that, either. I remember being your age, and being unsure of myself, and wondering if I was capable. They turned me loose in a hospital and suddenly, I had people's lives in my hands. It was scary, and I wasn't sure I could do it..."

"You don't understand, Mrs. Culmer," Daniel interrupted. "I really don't think I can do this shit."

Mrs. Culmer raised her eyebrows at that last word. Daniel realized what he had just said.

"I'm sorry."

"You can do it, Danny," she reassured him. "I know you can, sweetie."

The conversation lulled, and with the most gentle smile, she looked into his masculine, brown eyes. Daniel loved the way she called him, "sweetie." He wanted it to mean so much more, and for a few seconds, they held each other's gaze. She was an older, caring woman, pretty and kind and compassionate. He was a wonderful young man, strong and respectful and handsome.

And then, like the sun's warmth rising on a cold day, Mrs. Culmer's smile gently melted away, as the devious overlord of lust, once again, crept into her vulnerable soul. The overlord had been after her for years, intent on defiling her chaste temperament. He was merciless and irresistible, and he poured rapacious desire into her breathless, beating heart.

Time and again, she had pushed him away, but time and again he had succeeded in making her longing all the worse. She had begun to want all the nasty things she had been secretly viewing on porn sites. It was all so sinful, so wanton, so hedonistic. And it was all so irresistibly enticing.

The naughty things she had seen people. Those things burned fire in her chest and caused her loins to become wet and tingly. She wanted to do those things. She wanted them so badly.

She looked into Daniel's eyes. She envisioned him suckling at the end of her audacious breasts. Arousal stirred warm and delicious in her belly.

No. It was wrong.

She realized she had been staring at Daniel and looked away.

"You can do it, Danny," she repeated, and she cleared her throat. With a creeping feeling of shame, she tried to make her voice sound as sterile as possible. "Just take it one day at a time."

But Daniel couldn't bring himself to take his eyes off her pretty face. She had been looking at him with affection. He could see it. He could feel it. He wanted more from the moment. He wanted Mrs. Culmer to confirm what had just happened. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and put his mouth on hers. He wanted to feel the warmth of her cuddly body. He wanted to feel the softness of her skin and the kindness of her heart.

He wanted the promise of some kind of future with her.

She cut eyes his way. His stare was making her uncomfortable.

Daniel acquiesced.

"Yes, Ma'am" he said, and he reluctantly turned away. The water in the bowl splashed and trickled as Mrs. Culmer finished washing the figurine she had been holding. She wiped her hands on a towel and stood from the bench.

"Let me show you what else needs to be done."

The closeness was over, and Daniel felt as if the sun had been snuffed out in his heart.

The hedges needed trimming and some vines needed to be cleared from the fence. There was also a vine that had climbed the height of the chimney.

"Just cut it at the ground and let it die," Mrs. Culmer told him.

"You don't want me to take it down? Mr. Culmer keeps a ladder under the porch."

"No," she replied, appraising the surroundings, "the canoe stand is in the way, and the ground slopes too much. I don't think a ladder would be safe right here." She looked into the sky. All the blue was hidden behind gray. "It's going to start raining any minute. Just cut it. It will die."

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