Ms. B

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Former student plays games with his favorite teacher.
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gdavis
gdavis
78 Followers

Walking into her classroom was like walking into a memory. It had been ten years since I was a student seated two rows from the front, my eyes intently studying the sway of hips as she paced back and forth lecturing on subjects I can now scarcely remember. Yet the only noticeable difference was that everything seemed smaller, a change caused not by any actual alteration, but by the fact that at twenty-three I was no longer a little boy. The same sweet vanilla scent permeated the room. The same boisterous posters and drawings adorned the wall. And I felt those same butterflies in my stomach when I saw her seated at her desk.

It took her a second to recognize me after I walked in, but when she did that same bright smile emerged on her lips. Even ten years later it still made me feel warm. "Darren Gray? Oh my god, I can't believe its you," she exclaimed as she rose from her desk and walked over to me. While no longer the fresh faced twenty-five year old of adolescent dreams she still retained a sparkle in her eye which added a girlish feistiness to her fine facial features. And even the oversized, bright red sweatshirt covering her torso, couldn't conceal her magnificent curves. It was easy to see why I was so infatuated with her as a kid.

"Mrs. Brently, I couldn't resist stopping in to see you," I said as I watched her approach. Her frame wasn't as trim as it once was and as she came closer I could see on her face the strain of teaching thirteen year olds for ten years, but to point out those slight imperfections wasn't to claim that she was still anything but undeniably beautiful.

She gave me a quick hug, and I couldn't help but feel a slight thrill at the touch of her full breasts, the same ones I had I had tried to imagine naked a thousand times, pressed against my chest. "What brings you back for a visit?" she asked looking me directly in the eye. Even more than the feel of her body, the way she looked at me set my mind racing. It was a look I recognized immediately as the look given by a woman attracted by what she sees.

"You mean other than seeing my favorite teacher?" I responded with a long rehearsed line. It worked just as I hoped it would; she smiled in response, even blushing slightly. "I'm volunteering as a mentor for one of the students here."

"One of my students?"

"No, I'm afraid he isn't as lucky as I was,"

"You're too kind," there was a bit of an awkward pause, "Well you look really good, I can't believe that you are the same shy, skinny little kid whose only wish was to become a fireman," she said nervously moving a few strands of hair away from her face with her left hand, a hand unadorned by a ring.

"Thanks, you look pretty good yourself."

"Me? Please, I probably look like a mess," she replied smoothing out her clothing.

"Not at all, I bet all the boys in your class are still crazy about you."

"And what makes you think that?"

"Well, I was one of those boys and you look as good now as you did back then."

She gave me an almost shocked look, "You certainly aren't shy anymore, are you?" she commented. "So did you realize your dream?" she asked in an attempt to change the subject. "Are you the fearless firefighter that you always wanted to be?"

"Ha," I laughed, "No, I'm afraid that dream died a while ago."

"So what do you do?"

"Well, I just graduated college about a year ago. I'm managing a bar with a buddy of mine while we work on developing a video game."

"Videogames, huh? One of those ultra-violent blood fests that my students like to play?"

"Not really, it is more of a puzzle game. It is based on a little game that we developed in college."

"Sounds interesting, you'll have to show me it when you finish."

"If you're computer is hooked up to the net I can show you the original game right now."

"Sure,"

I entered our site and downloaded the game onto her computer. "The idea of the game is to create patterns out of these blocks. The music lets you know if you're on the right path or not."

"So you have to listen to the music to see if you're putting the pieces in the right position?"

"Exactly."

"Actually sounds pretty educational."

"Well, don't let the kids know that."

She gave a healthy laugh at the joke as she sat down in the chair. I leaned over her to click the start button. I could tell she was holding her breath as I was only inches from her face. I could also tell that she was closely examining my face. Before pulling away I turned my head to her, my lips only inches from hers, "Are you ready?" I asked and from the flush of her face I could tell she heard both questions. Finally, I leaned back and I could hear her slowly exhale.

The game started and she easily moved the first few pieces to the right spot, but as the pace of the game increased she quickly lost the rhythm and the music went quickly off key, "Here let me help," I said placing my hand over her hand on the mouse. I could feel her eyes fall immediately upon my large hand covering her delicate fingers.

She was obviously distracted by my touch, but steadily as I fixed her mistakes and the music harmonize once again she turned her attention back to the game, "I get it now," she exclaimed. Her hand squirmed to regain control of the mouse. I relinquished my control drawing my hand up her arm and placing it on her shoulder.

Enthralled by the game she finished the song, "That's actually a lot of fun, although I better watch myself I might get addicted." she said smiling up at me.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

She stood up from the chair, "Well... I better get going," I said after a moment of awkward silence. I was tempted to make a move right there, her eyes were practically begging me to, but the timing seemed off.

"Yeah I guess so," she responded breaking the gaze between us. "I hope you stop by again. I mean whenever you volunteer here," she added trying to step back from the interest her first sentence conveyed.

"I'll be here every Wednesday," I responded casually.

"Good I'll see you on Wednesday then."

I showed up around the same time the following Wednesday. Unfortunately, she wasn't alone this time. It looked like a mother of one of her students was meeting with her. While I was disappointed to see the other person there I was happy to see that Mrs. Brently had obviously dressed up for me. Nothing too provocative for a seventh grade English teacher, but still sexy; a knee length black skirt and a form fitting red blouse. Her hair was stylishly done, lustrous waves of auburn hair, and whereas she was wearing almost no make up the week before she obviously had spent some time perfecting her look today. She looked radiant.

She peeked over and smiled at me momentarily when I entered the room before putting back on her serious face and turning her attention back to the evidently fretting parent in front of her. She said a few things to comfort the mom as she walked her to the door. I noticed her slyly lock the door as she closed it. Once the mom was out of the room she was all smiles for me.

"You came back," she said trying to sound surprised at my return.

"Like you didn't know I would," I answered not letting her off the hook. "You look very nice today, Mrs. B, not that you didn't look great last week, but you look amazing today."

"Didn't you grow up to be quite the flirt?" she teased.

"Just being honest."

"Well don't get too carried away, I was your teacher."

"Even more reason to get carried away."

There was another lapse in the conversation, I was afraid that I was being a little too aggressive. I looked around the room and saw that she had a Jeopardy board drawn on the chalkboard. "I used to love playing Jeopardy in your class."

"If I remember correctly you used to always win."

"Just trying to impress you Mrs. B."

"If you're going to flirt with me at least call me Susan, I don't think I can handle hearing Mrs. B."

"Whatever you want Susan."

"Think you can still answer all the questions in the game?"

"I hope so otherwise that English minor I picked up would be pretty worthless."

"Sounds like you're pretty confident. You know these questions are a lot tougher than when you were here, might be hard for you."

"Put me to the test and see."

"Okay, first question; Finish the sentence: Of Mice and Men took place during the ...?"

"Great Depression."

"Correct. Just wanted to start off with an easy one to make sure video games hadn't killed all your brain cells."

"Next question...." she began but I stopped her.

"Wait, shouldn't I get some reward for answering it right?"

"Reward?" she said giving me a suspicious, but playful look.

"Yeah a little truth or dare."

"Truth or dare? I haven't played that since I was..."

"You still look pretty young to me." I interjected to stop her from making an excuse.

"Okay, I'll play along, just don't get any wild ideas?" she said acknowledging my intentions.

"Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Are you single?"

She laughed before answering, "Yes, I'm single."

"Good. Next question?"

"What was the name of the African American man Atticus defended in To Kill a Mockingbird?"

"Tom Robinson."

"Correct, I guess I should've made these questions a little harder."

"Truth or Dare?"

"Truth."

"Do you find me attractive?"

She hesitated before answering, "A little cocky, but yes, you are an attractive young man." she placed an emphasis on young as if trying to lessen her approval.

"I'll take that answer. Next question?"

"In Pride and Prejudice what was the name of Elizabeth's younger sister who marries Mr. Wickham?"

"Ha, I don't think its fair to use Jane Austen books as questions."

"So you don't know the answer?"

"Not the slightest clue."

"Lydia. My turn, truth or dare?"

"Dare,"

"Why am I not surprised," she responded. She paused as I could tell she was mulling over the possibilities. I couldn't suppress a grin as I thought about what dares I would be asking her if in the same position. Unfortunately, as if reading my mind and deciding to do the exact opposite she said, "I dare you to pick up these two spare desks and move them to the back."

"That's more of a chore than a dare." I protested.

"No complaints, you have to play by the rules." she admonished. Disappointed I picked up the first desk. The desk was actually pretty heavy and I could feel my arm muscles strain as I lugged it to the back. As I picked up the second one I noticed her eyes fix upon my now bulging bicep and forearm. I could tell by the attention she gave my arms that it had been awhile for Mrs. B.

"Next question?" I asked once done with the second desk. I was eager to obtain some retribution.

"In Ulysses Stephen Dedalus represents what character from the Odyssey?"

"Now that question really isn't fair."

"Haven't made your way through Ulysses yet?"

"Its on my list of things to do."

"Well the answer, wait I don't want to spoil it for you."

"I guarantee you that you won't."

"The answer is Telemachus. Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"I like this, I could use you to clean my entire room," she said, but I could tell that again she was considering her options. This time I successfully suppressed my grin. Finally, I could see a hint of mischievousness in her eyes when she finally said, "I dare you to take off your shirt."

"Is that all?" I responded confidently.

"That's all," she replied in mock exasperation.

I casually lifted my shirt up and over my head. I'm no Adonis, but I'm confident in my athletic build and was in no way embarrassed to be standing in front of Ms. B without my shirt on. I was excited by the fact that she was being so forward. I was worried that I would have to make the first move.

"Next question?"

"In the Great Gatsby what was the name of the narrator?"

"Umm... Nick Buchanan."

"Incorrect. Don't think I don't know what you're doing. Truth or dare?"

"Dare," I answered placing my hands on my belt buckle ready for her to ask me to remove it.

"I want you to erase the chalkboard."

"What?"

"Winner picks," she said brightly letting me know it wouldn't be that easy. I picked up the eraser and started wiping away the meticulously drawn Jeopardy board. I could feel her eyes following me, observing my taut muscles flexing as I rubbed the eraser across the board.

"Next question," I asked once finished.

"In Hamlet how was Hamlet's father killed?"

"Poison in his ear."

"Correct, and I pick truth."

"When was the last time that you pleasured yourself?" I asked calmly, but inside I was unsure if the question was too much, but at the same time I wanted to scare her off of the truth questions.

"Is that a question you would ask your teacher?"

"Maybe not, but it's a question I'm asking you."

"Should I take offense?"

"No, you just need to answer the question, rules are rules."

"Yesterday," she said quickly crimson faced.

"Did you think about me?"

"That's another question."

"I guess I'll just have to answer another one right. Next question."

"What is the opening line in T.S. Eliot's The Waste Land."

"I don't think that is one of your student's questions."

"But I'm now asking an intelligent, college educated, video game designer."

"April is the cruelest month."

"Correct, I'm impressed you did actually learn something in college."

"Truth or dare?"

"I'm probably going to regret this, but dare."

"Take off your blouse."

"Why am I once again not surprised?" She walked past me to the door and placed a piece of paper over the small window on the door. Safe from prying eyes she turned back around and button by button undid her top revealing the milky flesh of her voluptuous breasts straining against a black satin bra.

"Nice bra."

"I thought you would like it."

"So you were thinking about me," I quipped, then added before she could object, "Next question."

"Well since you are such a big fan of Jane Austen, what was the name of the man who marries Marianne in Sense and Sensibility"

"Colonel Brandon."

"So you have read Jane Austen."

"And I guess it really paid off. Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"I dare you to kiss me," I said. I knew she was ready, so I didn't even hesitate to ask.

"I think I can manage that," she said stepping up to me. I could see the desire in her eyes as she focused on my lips, slowly leaning in until our lips lightly touched. I pressed forward pushing our lips together in a firm kiss. Both our lips parted and we kissed passionately.

I placed my hands around her hips and held her close as our lips separated, "Next question?"

"What was Shakespeare's first play?"

"I have no idea."

"Well I guess I win, truth or dare?"

"Wait what's the answer?" she thought about it for a seconds and then laughed, "You don't know either do you," I playfully asked squeezing her to me.

"I don't," she laughed.

"Well in that case I win by default."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I get to ask for a reward."

"What reward do you want?"

"Just another kiss."

"Is that all?" she asked leaning in to kiss me, but I stopped her.

"Not there," I said motioning downwards to let her know where I wanted my kiss.

"And you think I will?"

"Like you said we have to play by the rules, right?"

"You've become quite the little shit, haven't you?"

"Just playing by the rules."

"Well, let's see if your penis matches your ego," she challenged. I was already hard, but I swear I grew another inch when she dropped down to her knees in front of me and reached for my belt. She wasted no time dropping my pants and pulling down my boxers freeing my stiff cock. I could tell by the flash of her eyes that she was impressed.

"Does it?" I asked unable to resist hearing her praise. She ignored my comment, instead she lustily stroked my cock. "I guess it does," I needlessly added.

"You better watch yourself, there's a thin line between cute and annoying," she replied sternly, but giving me a look that was anything but harsh.

"Agreed, I think we're doing too much talking."

She smiled back up at me before turning her attention back to my throbbing cock standing in front of her. She flicked the head with her tongue causing my cock to twitch like it had just been shocked. She did it again, as if fascinated by the reaction of my sex to her touch. She looked up at me with those deep brown eyes and watched my reaction as she took the head of my cock into her mouth and swirled her tongue around that ultra sensitive region. I tilted my head back and took a deep breath exaggerating my response as to encourage her to continue.

She must have bought my act, because she did it again, this time allowing her to tongue to languorously swirl around the head. She looked up at me again as her right hand casually pumped the shaft of my cock, "Enjoying?" she asked evidently taking some satisfaction in my pleasure.

I nodded my head in silent response. She turned her attention back to my cock, this time engulfing the head with her soft pliant lips and sucking. It felt amazing, and it only felt better as she slid farther down my cock until she was halfway down my shaft. She drew her head back up and used the newly acquired slickness of my shaft to firmly pump my cock while she used her tongue to toy with the head.

I closed my eyes and allowed the sensation to overwhelm me. She never took me further then halfway in, but it still felt incredible. She even massaged my balls with her free hand which helped further me along the way to a paralyzing orgasm. My entire body clenched up as I exploded inside her mouth. She didn't even flinch, swallowing my entire load.

"Jesus, that was incredible," I sighed still flushed with warmth.

"I'm such a slut," she joked standing up to kiss me. Her lips were warm and juicy, and I could taste a hint of myself on her tongue.

"You were great Mrs. B," I teased while lifting my pants back up.

She pushed me playfully and laughed, "Don't say that. I already feel dirty enough. I don't need to be reminded that I am your teacher as well."

"You were my teacher. I've had plenty of teachers since."

"Oh, yeah, what did they teach you?" she coyly asked catching my hint.

"Let me show you," I said leading her back to her large desk. I grabbed her by the hips and lifted her onto the edge of the desk. She leaned back and watched as I dropped down to my knees before her. I could see the anticipation dripping from her eyes.

Calmly in control I took my time sliding my hands up her skirt, bunching it above her waist, exposing her lacy black panties. I kissed the tender flesh of her inner thighs and felt her skin tremor at my touch. I hooked my fingers under the band of her panties and she lifted her hips up so I could slide them off her body.

As if suddenly feeling a tinge of timidness she pressed her legs together, "Its been awhile for me," she said almost apologetically.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle," I joked causing her to smile and relax her thighs. I guided her legs apart and revealed the flower between. The garden was nicely trimmed, a slim patch of hair around the bloom. Her lips were already swollen and split open with nothing more than a light stroke of my finger. She gave a shiver upon that slight contact.

"Don't tease me," she begged. I smiled, satisfied in the knowledge that I had complete control of her. I delved between her moist slit, just entering the tip of my tongue. I breathed in her scent, she was so moist. She placed her hand on the back of my head letting me know the urgency of her desire.

I enjoyed teasing her, but was also eager to please. I licked the length of her slit and boldly slid my tongue inside of her. She trembled with pleasure, "Oh Yes!" she quietly moaned. Her legs raised up and rested on my shoulders as she leaned back further on her desk. I looked up and saw that she had slipped her round breasts out of her bra and was steadily rolling her nipples with the palms of her hands as she watched me between her thighs.

gdavis
gdavis
78 Followers
12