Mrs. K. - A Wet Dream Come True

Author's Notes: Decades ago, I wrote this story under another nom de plume. Recently came across my original text with old photographs of my first love, and decided to refresh and update it for your reading pleasure. As always, all characters are eighteen or older. Please enjoy.

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I recently attended my tenth-year high school reunion. It was good to see some of my old classmates and catch up on old times. However, it was not until I saw some photographs of our former teachers that the memories of my youth surged through me. Of all the pictures, there was only one that stood out - Mrs. K., my first love.

I remembered that high school was a turbulent time. I was in my senior year of high school when my dad who was in the military was assigned to a short stint in Hawaii to work on a special project. While my mother was elated to hang out in Hawaii, I was really pissed. I deeply resented being uprooted and forced to leave all of my friends for the last half of my senior year. However, since I had no one with whom I could stay for my last high school semester, I had no choice but to go with my parents.

It really sucked that I celebrated my eighteenth birthday by being thrust into a totally new environment, devoid of any friends. This was further compounded by me having an especially hard time being one of the few white kids around. At six-foot, white-skinned, blue-eyes, and blond hair I stuck out like a sore thumb among my new school's predominantly Oriental student body and faculty. Although I knew Hawaii was the fiftieth state, I felt like a foreigner in a foreign land and simply didn't want to have anything to do with my new high school community. That is until I attended Mrs. K.'s sixth-period math class.

"Hello, you must be John," fell gracefully from her lovely lips as Mrs. K. greeted me on that first day. "Welcome to Hawaii and to my class. I look forward to getting to know you better since like you, I'm new to this school and this is my first semester. Let's see if we can help each in making the most of what is left of this school year."

Mrs. K. was clearly the prettiest, most charming woman you could ever imagine. With raven medium-length bobbed hair framing her delicate Asian face, she had brown doe-like eyes, a cute button nose, and fragile but inviting lips. When combined with her graceful but sensuous figure, her impish smile, and subtle wit, Mrs. K. was a school boy's wet dream. Needless to say, I was madly infatuated with her at first sight and started to look forward to my short stay in Hawaii.

One day Mrs. K. was helping a student next to me with a problem that also stumped me. As I stood next to my seated classmate, Mrs. K. leaned over to make a point causing her blouse to fall forward and open. Given that my teacher was a slender five-foot-three, I had an unexpected and unobstructed view of the loveliest sight you could ever imagine. Cradled in the gauzy cups of her bra that had fallen away were two gentle snow-white mounds, each was capped with a soft purple, mouth-watering nipple. In silent awe, I memorized every inch of her unforgettable breasts, vividly recalling them as repeatedly I beat my meat that night dreaming about Mrs. K.

I began spending all of my free time hanging around Mrs. K. and my classmates teasingly labeled me Mrs. K.'s "pet." But I didn't care for by hanging around (and towering over) her, I was amply rewarded with numerous tantalizing glimpses of Mrs. K.'s modest but delicious tits and her other physical delight as our relationship seemed to become more than the typical teacher-student one.

Mrs. K. must have suspected that I was deeply infatuated with her and that I had gotten into the habit of peeking down her blouse. Instead of scolding me, she would just gently place her hand at her neckline to subtly denying me any stimulating tit-glimpses. Yet, as I continued to worm my way into her affection and trust, Mrs. K. became more casual and relaxed around me, unintentionally treating me to sightings of her perky tits, tight buns, and shapely legs. Given my fantasies about Mrs. K., it was a wonder I didn't reduce my pecker to a stub by the end of the senior year.

Before I knew it, the school year was ending, and my father was finishing up his project and had received his reassignment orders which were to take place a week after my high school graduation. Soon after my graduation, I stopped by Mrs. K.'s classroom at the ending of the last day of school to say good-bye and found her sitting alone and thoroughly depressed. When I told her of my family's departure, her weak smile faded as tears welled in her eyes.

"Oh, wow, when rains for me, it really pours," Mrs. K. sniffled. "You know John, even though you were my student, I've always thought of you as more. Maybe it's because we were both newcomers in this school - you know, this was my first time teaching as a long-term substitute and you were a transfer student - neither of us had any friends. But you were always there for me even though the other kids teased you relentlessly by calling you 'my pet.' I thought it was sweet and to me, you were always special. Maybe that's why I felt comfortable with you, and will really miss having you around. Now 'everyone' is leaving me..."

And with that, my normally calm Japanese-American teacher burst into tears. I knew that something else was happening to her because of the way she was crying. "Hey, Mrs. K. don't cry, please," I mumbled as I sought to comfort her. "I know you enough to know that there's something besides me leaving that's bothering you. What's wrong, Mrs. K.?"

Pulling herself together and dabbing the tears from her lovely almond-shaped eyes, Mrs. K. whispered, "I sorry for crying and being so emotional. It's just that my world is topsy-turvy at this time. I had hoped to be hired in a tenure-track position next year but just found out that I might not due to funding shortages. Then you who made teaching a pleasure are leaving. And finally, my husband told me this past weekend that our three-year marriage was a mistake and he had filed for divorce."

"What? Your husband is a fucking idiot," blurted out surprised mouth before I knew it. "Why would he give you up? God, you're so beautiful and...so perfect."

"Why thank you, John. But, Jim, my husband, has wanted kids all his life. When we married, I thought that I wouldn't have any problems conceiving; however, after years of trying, I couldn't. So, when I turned twenty-five, I underwent a series of fertility tests and was stunned to find out that I have a bacterial infection of my reproductive system that made me infertile. I was devastated because I didn't even know I was infected. The doctors said that having no symptoms sometimes happened; however, while they could treat the infection, they couldn't do anything about the scarring damage that had occurred.

"At first Jim blamed me and demanded to know how I got infected. When I swore that I didn't know how I had contracted the disease, he accused me of lying about my previous sex life and had tricked him into marrying me even though I was infected. I denied everything and told him that I loved him. However, Jim was infuriated and called me a 'diseased whore' and said that he couldn't stay married to someone like me. He then demanded that I get of the house his parents left him and that he was going to find another woman who could give him kids. I pleaded with him but he said it was over and that nothing I could say or do could change his mind."

Dabbing her eyes and blowing her nose, Mrs. K. composed herself before mentioning that she had managed to find a small apartment and hastily moved her belongings out of her husband's house. She confided that she felt lost and total alone, but knew that she needed to unpack and set up to set up her new place as a start on an uncertain new life. When I volunteered to help her, she politely refused; however, gratefully accepted when I insisted. Getting her new address, I set a time with her for early that Saturday morning.

Mrs. K. greeted me door dressed in loose shorts and a scoop-necked top that made her look casual but extremely sexy. I found out just how alluring she could be as Mrs. K. took my presence for granted and made no conscious effort to hide her physical delights. Throughout the entire morning, I was treated to the sight of her slender legs, firm butt, and her creamy white breasts as we unpacked her belongings and organized her new place. However, without any food in the apartment, I reluctantly left to pick up a pizza when lunchtime rolled around while she continued unpacking.

However, upon returning, I found Mrs. K. sitting on the edge of her bed crying over her wedding pictures. Not knowing exactly what to do, I sat down next to her and placed my arm around her shoulder to offer some comfort. She snuggled against my chest, tears flowing freely and then looked up at me with those lonely almond-shaped eyes of hers. I don't know exactly what happened, except the next thing I knew I was kissing her, holding her to me. Instead of pulling away, Mrs. K. willing accepted my kiss; then, returned a lingering one of her own.

However, when I let my hand lightly drift over those tits I had longed to feel, Mrs. K. softly murmured, "Oh, John, please don't." Her dainty hand covered mine but didn't push me away when I hesitantly cupped and then awkwardly caressed her breasts. I felt Mrs. K. respond and fold into my embrace as I continued kissing her and figured it was now or never and boldly pushed her top and bra up to reveal her pert pointy breasts.

"We shouldn't," she weakly protested as I lowered my head to her stiff jutting nipples. "We really - oohh..." moaned Mrs. K. as I inhaled and began to suck on her hardening tips. "You're my student - ohh, yes - 'former' student. But, I'm older - ooh - k by how much - well, I guess seven years is that much. But I'm married - ooh, yes, you're right - and soon to be divorced. Ummm - ooh, yes - I really do love the way you suck my sensitive titties."

I needed no further encouragement as my hand slipped under the waistband of her loose shorts, my fingers slithering under her silky panties. Mrs. K. gasped sharply as my fingers slid over her neatly-trim ebony bush and then quickly dipped between her swollen wet folds. I couldn't believe how incredibly soft and slippery she was, and just how wet my probing fingers were as they slid up and down her twisting pussy slit.

This caused Mrs. K. to emit a sharp gasp, "No - oh, please don't. John, please stop. We really shouldn't, please!" She sought to stop me by closing her legs, trapping my hand between her tender inner thighs.

However, not to be denied, I continued to finger her, sawing the edge if my hand into her now sopping wet cunt. Mrs. K. emitted a soft whine of indecision and then with a sigh of reluctant acceptance parted her legs for me. Her soft mewling rapidly became breathless pants when I sank and finger deep into her super-soft sex. Mrs. K.'s hips began to gyrate as I fingered her before she finally moaned, "Oh, John, since we've gone this far, I've got to tell you that what I want something other than your finger in me."

Mrs. K. giggled at my hurried clumsiness as I struggled to remove her clothes especially her damn front-snapping bra. Finally, she brushed my fumbling hands aside and gave her bra with a deft twist of her fingers to undo it. "Isn't this better," she purred as she blatantly exposed herself to me, "than sneaking peeks of my titties like you did all semester long, you naughty boy."

With teasing remark, Mrs. K. pulled off my t-shirt and immediately noticed my tremendous bulge in my shorts. A certain twinkle appeared in her eyes and a whimsical smile appear on her delicious lips as she slowly unzipped and tugged my shorts down. Grabbing my underwear band, Mrs. K. pulled it up and then over my bulge, freeing my humungous erection that sprung before her startled eyes. "Oh, wow, John..." she gasped as her fingers lightly wrapped around my rigid pulsating pole. This was more than I could stand as I violently exploded ropes of cum spewing into Mrs. K.'s amazed face.

I could have died out of utter embarrassment, but Mrs. K. just knowingly smiled. Wiping my splattered spunk slowly from her face with two fingers then sensuously licked them clean. When she opened her mouth and lowered her lips to my still-oozing cock, I thought, "This can't be happening! She's going to..." I jerked helplessly and groaned as my dick disappeared between her lovely sucking lips.

"Fuck! I've died and gone to heaven! And with Mrs. K.'s lips wrapped around my goddamn cock!" were the thoughts that reverberated in my stupefied mind. Between bobs of Mrs. K.'s head that had me sliding deep down her throat and her sensuous licks and sucks, my wilted willy soon to emerged from her luscious mouth hard enough to crush rocks.

Grasping my swaying manhood, Mrs. K. laid back and positioned me between her bent knees. Pressing my pulsating head at the entrance of her snatch, she gradually undulated her pelvis, coating me completely with her pussy juices. Suddenly Mrs. K. lifted her hips and my penis was transported into another dimension - one of immeasurable softness, heat, and wetness. I was in paralyzed ecstasy, and when I managed to open my eyes, I could see in Mrs. K.'s lovely brown eyes that she knew that she was my first.

"Ooh, yes, John! I really needed this! You're so big, stretching me out, and going so damn deep. Ooh, yes, just like that - slowly - nice and easy - take your time. You can have all of me now, as much as you want, and as often as you want. We have all day."

Then through subtle shifts and touches, Mrs. K. showed me how two bodies could move in rewarding erotic harmony. As I caught on, I showed what a good student I was and that what I lacked in terms of experience, I made up in excess energy and unflagging stamina. Mrs. K.'s lovely face blushed with her building rapture, emitting breathy groans as I began jackhammered her heaving pussy with wild abandon.

"Don't stop," panted Mrs. K. as her eyelids fluttered. "Oh, please don't stop! Make me feel wanted...needed! Oh, please make love to me! Fuck me, John! Oh yes, fuck me please!" With her legs locked around my pistoning hips, Mrs. K. thrashed uncontrollably, crying out as our simultaneous orgasms exploded within the churning depths of her womanhood.

Before I left Hawaii, I ineptly tried many times to seduce Mrs. K. Much to my frustration at the time, she always managed to gently but firmly deny my youth insatiable desires. I now realize looking at her picture in the high school yearbook that what we were two lonely people who shared that afternoon was a special lifetime moment: a youth's initiation into manhood and a beautiful woman's need to be loved.

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Having returned to Hawaii for my high school reunion, I decided to take an extended vacation. While I looked up old business acquaintances, the one person I really wanted to find was Mrs. K, my high school math teacher, and very first lover. I vividly recalled our brief but special day shortly after my graduation and desperately wanted to rekindle that innocent affair. Never in my wildest dreams could I guess how we would become finally become reacquainted. But I'm getting ahead of myself and had the best start this next chapter at the beginning.

I was refitting a friend's sailboat in return for being allowed to use it for the rest of my vacation. I was working on the boat one Saturday afternoon when I hear someone calling to me. I turned to find an attractive Japanese-American woman in her mid-thirties standing on the pier.

"Please excuse me for being so forward," this vision of Asian loveliness demurely said, "I am sorry to interrupt you but I desperately need your help. It seems that my car has a flat tire and I really don't know how to change it. I would normally call AAA for assistance but it would take too long and I have an urgent engagement in thirty minutes. Could you please change a flat tire on my car? I would be forever in your debt." Since no one else was around, I said sure.

Her older but still sweet Mercedes coupe definitely had a flat and as I got out her spare tire and tools, I check her out. Given her pearl earrings and choker, carefully applied makeup, and styled short black hair, she had an aura of cultured elegance and expensive taste. Despite the late afternoon heat, she was dressed for a night of refined entertainment. Under a loose waisted dark jacket, was a silk slip dress that molded to her trim but sensuous body, accentuating her modest upturned breasts, flat stomach, and firm ass. Ending several inches above her knees, her dress amply but tastefully displayed her shapely legs that ended with stylish four-inch high heels. Without a doubt, this was kind of woman that wet dreams are all about.

Still, there was something vaguely familiar about her. Suddenly it came to me - this woman was Mrs. K.!

When I blurted out my revelation, Mrs. K. was clearly stunned. It took her a while to recognize me since I had matured and bulked up considerably from the tall and lanky youth, she knew over a decade ago. Her face flashed a range of emotions: surprise, happiness, and then an uneasiness, the last of which I didn't understand. Then after an awkward greeting, she asked me to call her Karen since she no longer went by her former married name. Karen then proceeded to make polite small talk that for some reason instead of bringing us closer, somehow put more distance between us.

To reduce our mutual uneasiness of the situation, I began explaining how to change her flat tire. Karen squatted as I began loosening the tire's lug nuts. In so doing, her dress rode up her thighs, providing me an extremely distracting glimpse between her legs. Yet, as I tried to covertly gaze up her dress, the damn tire iron slipped and, bouncing off the pavement, struck me cruelly on my "privates."

Dropping to my knees, I groaned in excruciating agony as I tried to catch my breath. Seeing what had just happened, Karen gasped. When she asked if I was okay, I groaned unconvincingly that I was and gritting my teeth, somehow managed to change her goddamn tire.

With some difficulty, I manage to stand, and Karen awkwardly offered to pay me for my troubles which was like adding insult to injury. When I gruffly refused, she meekly asked if she could make it up to me somehow. At this point, I was more interested in ending this dream-turned-into-nightmare.

"Oh, forget about it," I groaned but Karen only persisted in making some form of amends. "Okay, okay, if you insist. Hmmm, maybe a drink sometime." With that, Karen smiled at that before thanking me again for my trouble and then saying that she was late for a dinner engagement, drove off.

Later that night I heard footsteps on the slip. Going topside, I was surprised to find Karen. "This is for you," said Karen as she promptly offered a chilled bottle of champagne. "It's a small token of my gratitude for helping me this afternoon. I hope it eases any pain you may have suffered on my behalf."

Before accepting the bottle, I said, "It might. However, I don't believe in drinking alone." I was surprised when Karen invited herself below.

My cabin was cramp and hot with two people. Slipping off her high heels, Karen sat on my bunk seemingly unconcerned about her thin dress that crept up her thighs. This tempting sight only made me hotter and I soon pulled off my shirt. Karen must have been just as hot for she demurely smiled and quickly removed her jacket. Unfortunately, the sight of her spaghetti-strapped, backless slip dress only made me hotter.

To get my mind off of the growing heat, external as well as internal, I asked the first thing that popped into my head, "So...are you still teaching?"