Summer School Pt. 02 Ch. 11

Hello you naughty girls and boys!

Time for us to return to the tale of Tom's Summer School. Let's join Tom as he begins his second day, meeting with his science teacher. Will there be any science involved?

All characters in the story are 18 years of age or older.

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So on Tuesday morning, a little before 8am, Tom found himself at the door of his science teacher. This house was easier to find than Felicia's and looked closer to what he expected. It was a nice house and appeared well kept, but was smaller and less extravagant than his own or even that of his Spanish teacher.

He rang the bell and waited, wondering what fresh hell this day would bring. Would he have any actual classwork he had to work on? He had actually passed his science course and that wasn't even this past year. And yet she had been chosen as one of his summer school teachers.

He heard her heavy steps just before she opened the door. And then he saw her tits. Well it wasn't her bare tits but that didn't matter. They had always been huge and a matter of some discussion among his classmates, but he had never seen them covered so casually, and never seen her without a bra making her nipples poke through her shirt and grab his attention!

In his mind he could feel her grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. And he could hear her voice as she said, "Look at these muthafucker!" But of course she didn't do that, didn't say that. She looked at him with disdain as if he was some door-to-door salesman.

"Well, Tom Marshall, I never thought I'd be layin' eyes on you again."

She just stood there in the doorway and for a moment Tom wondered if she was going to let him inside. He didn't really want to be there and would love to be able to just turn around and go home. But even if Mrs. Folami didn't need him to be there he knew that this was part of the Principal's plan and he had to be here, had to pass whatever tasks she gave him, or he would never see his money.

Still he was worried about what she might have in store for him. Themba Dayo Folami was her full name, and that too was cause for some discussion among her students. Many wondered where she came from or if there was some meaning to her name. What was not in question was that she was a large black woman who demanded respect.

And her body was stereotypical of the 'large black woman', although her boobs were even greater than that. Each one was bigger than his head and if he were to hold one, his hands wouldn't even come close to touching. And if he had a chance to hold one, he wasn't sure how he would lift one. They had to weigh forty to fifty pounds...each!

And she had a prominent backside as well. It formed a shelf and comments were made she could just carry her books back there if she so chose. Her skin was also a typical dark brown. She had short hair. She also had the stereotypical strict motherly demeanor. Her students were like her children and if they misbehaved she had no qualms about handing out punishments.

He thought of these things while trying not to stare at her nipples. He tried to keep his instant erection in check. He had never thought of her sexually before although others had made jokes about what they would do with her, but he had never seen her like this. Those nipples were practically controlling him.

"Alright I ain't got all day to stand on the porch. Git yer ass inside, boy!"

Tom quickly stepped inside, very careful to avoid contact with her body as he went through the entrance. As he made his way past her she popped him on the ass like a tardy child. It wasn't a hard slap but it got his attention, and kept the attention that was straining in his pants.

She closed the door and then ushered him into the living room. He took a seat on the couch and dropped his pack onto the floor next to him. She took a seat on the other end of the couch.

"You won't be needin' any books here. Any science we cover will be in a practical setting. But we both know science isn't really what you're here for is it?"

"No Mrs. Folami, it's not."

She was sitting across from him in her striped top with spaghetti straps, her arms bare, and wearing black yoga stretch pants. He noticed briefly before they sat down that she was also barefoot, something which he noticed more than he would have a week ago. But it was her nipples moving beneath her top which still held his gaze.

"Boy you better put yo' eyes back in yo' head or all you'll be seein' is stars."

"Yes Ma'am, I'm sorry...I...I didn't mean to stare."

Quickly Tom looked down at the floor. He had been caught. Of course he had been caught. He knew how strongly he had been staring, how he felt trapped, unable to look away. It couldn't have been hard to tell where his vision was focused.

"Don't you worry son. You'll get plenty an eyeful before this summer is over. But this is on my terms, ya hear?"

"Yes Ma'am. I'm so sorry."

Tom hadn't felt this meek before; not in her class. He didn't make waves and some of the work came easy. He didn't strive for perfection cause that would be a waste of time, but passing her class hadn't been a real chore. They were just teacher and student, a typical, boring relationship.

But now here, alone in her presence, in her house he felt different. She was sexy in a way, and he wouldn't have considered that before. And now she was more intimidating, knowing what she had over him and what she might choose to do. He didn't know what her game was.

"Now as I said, I never thought I'd see you again. You weren't really worth my time and you made it through my class and I figured that's that. But then Patricia comes to me with this crazy plan. A plan about how you need to graduate, and the only way is a special summer school. A plan about how I can teach you things I can't teach students in class and how you just gotta do what I want if you wanna graduate."

She had laid it all out. That's why Tom was here. He had to complete this summer school if he wanted to graduate. And he needed to graduate so he could get his trust money. And there was no way he was giving that up! He may have gotten himself into a jam, but he was going to get through this!

"Well I must say, she piqued my interest. A young boy like you, in need of a few lessons. So as you can see, I made the decision to help you out."

"Thank you Ma'am. I appreciate that."

There was no point in arguing. He was going to have to see this to the end. And he still didn't know what this was. He sat quietly, still looking at the floor wondering what she had planned for him.

"Now this has still interrupted my usual schedule. I've had to change some of my plans. Patricia said I could bring a few friends into this, but we usually meet on other days. Then Felicia, Ms. Rodriguez, gave me a call and suggested for our first meeting, maybe it should be a one-to-one."

Felicia had called her? That was unexpected. Each teacher had him under their thumb, but why had Felicia bothered to call Mrs. Folami and make such a suggestion? Did she do it on his behalf?

"So I like the idea of having a toy to play with every week. But I'm worried a little thing like you will just get broken before I have any fun. So we need to make sure you can handle yo' lessons."

While he hadn't thought of it quite like that, he was worried what she might do to him. Now he knew whatever it was, it wasn't going to be easy for him if she was truly worried about 'breaking' him.

"So you're going to have to work hard, especially in the beginnin', so I can play hard later."

He didn't much like the sound of that but what could he do. And just what sort of work did she have in mind? Clearly it wasn't about schoolwork.

"So let's start with a few questions. And git yo' eyes off the floor. Look at me boy!"

Tom's head snapped up at her demand. He looked away at her urging and was trying to keep from staring at her tits. But in doing so he had just been staring at the floor and apparently she took it as he was ignoring her or simply not paying enough respect.

However when he looked up he immediately found himself in trouble again. While he hadn't forgotten them, her tits and her nipples seized him once more and he felt a fresh stirring in his shorts.

"Now you don't look like much. So tell me, how much can you lift?"

"Lift? I don't...um..."

"That bench press thing you boys do. How much do you press or bench or whatever you call it."

Tom was never really big into the gym. He had done a few from time to time. Now at least he had a better idea what she was asking him, although he didn't know why.

"I'm not sure exactly. Maybe 120, 150?"

"Ha. Yeah 150 ain't gonna cut it. We'll work on that. Any idea how much you can drag across the floor?"

If he was unsure about how much he could bench, he was totally at a loss for how much he could drag. He didn't even know if there was some machine or training exercise for such a thing. And why on earth would it matter?

"I'm sorry I have no idea."

He did suppose that he could drag himself to the other end of the couch and he could surely lift her shirt over her head. What was he thinking! This was Mrs. Folami, his science teacher, and now one of the women who would run his summer school, why couldn't he take his mind off her tits!

"Well I'm sure it's not enough. Okay, so how long can you hold yo' breath?"

"Um, I don't know. A minute; minute and a half?"

"Yeah that's what I thought. We gonna have to put ya to work."

She just sat there a moment shaking her head. Then she looked him up and down as if sizing him up, although from what she had said and the questions she asked, he was pretty sure she had already found him wanting. Maybe she was just trying to decide what to do with him or, he shuddered to think, how not to break him.

"Well not much point in wastin' time. Since you seem to like my titties so much let's see if you can really handle them. Come 'ere."

Was she serious? Was he really going to get close to her huge tits? Was he really going to get the chance to handle them? His dick had already heard the invitation and was pulling him across the couch and soon he found himself sitting next to her. He stared at one of the large nubs in front of him, not sure exactly what she was offering.

He looked up into her eyes, ready to question what she wanted from him, what she was offering, but he never found his voice. In truth he really never had the time. As soon as he looked up at her she smiled; and then the force of her hand behind his head drove his face into her chest.

It was a sensation hard to describe. It was like someone had just taken a mighty swing at him with a large pillow. It was hard yet soft, and the fabric wrapped around his face. Unlike a pillow however it did not relent; the softness, the cloth, the covering remained over his face and with the surprise fading he felt a growing need to get away.

"You think a small thing like you deserves big black titties?"

The first contact as his face met her chest was a shock, but it was like a tease, similar to a dunking at a pool. But then he wasn't allowed up. This was more like having his head held under water. Was she even aware how tightly she held him? How much he needed some air, at least a little, before he could play her games?

And in the dark confines of cotton and cleavage, he discovered something else. Being pressed so close to her body, he became aware of her scent. It wasn't the light perfume of a gentle breeze or some small flower. No this was a thick scent, heavy with dark, earthy notes; a strong scent which threatened to overpower him.

Between the aroma and the lack of ability to take a proper breath, he was soon feeling dizzy. Some part of him was waiting for her to release him so he could take a gulp of air, but now that part had given up on waiting, survival instincts were kicking in.

When first he felt the push behind his head and the impact against her cotton covered flesh, he was surprised and his hands and arms hardly moved. Then knowing it would be unwise to grope and fondle his former science teacher, a teacher who held such power over him, he had kept his hands away from her as he waited to be released. But now he really needed to get some air, at least a little and it seemed the only way to do that was to let her know how badly he needed it.

So mind and body made a decision and he put his hands on her and gave a push to let her know he needed to be released, at least for a moment. But her body didn't get the message. Or maybe she didn't care. His body did care and his attempt to break free became more serious.

"Oh mister minute, minute and a half, it ain't been thirty seconds yet. You wasn't lyin' to me boy, was ya?"

Well that wasn't at all fair, he thought. She hadn't given him a chance, hadn't given him any warning. Was this why she wanted to know how long he could hold his breath? None of that mattered this instant. This instant he simply needed to escape; to breathe.

He pushed at her again. He didn't want to have an argument with her so soon. He wanted to make things a smooth as possible. But he simply had to get some air and now! Couldn't she tell he was suffocating down here! He tried desperately to break free.

"Oh not so fast, suga'. Take some time to enjoy dees titties."

She was mocking him. She was laughing. And now he was beginning to see stars. This crazy woman was going to kill him if she didn't let him go. And so he did the unthinkable. His hand swung out, smacking her hip. They could argue about that later; after he caught his breath.

But she held on. In fact she didn't seem at all deterred by his actions. She did sound just a little upset, but it wasn't that she felt sorry or wanted forgiveness. No instead she was irritated at his behavior, even if it was only to survive.

He felt her hand grab his forearm and pull it roughly behind his back. With her arm she pinned it there as she reached over to grab his other arm. He wasn't quite sure how she had managed it at all, much less how she had done it so deftly, but she had his arms behind his back and he felt pressure which made him fear she might dislocate a shoulder.

"Oh you can say hello longer than that. Let's count to ten shall we? One...two..."

She really wasn't letting him go. And now he struggled with pain as well as lack of air. He felt some fraction of relief when she suggested he only had to last ten more seconds. But then each second seemed to have a life of its own, and each dripped slowly by like the slow, slow leak of a faucet.

"Six...seven...eight..."

He really wasn't sure he could make it. It was only a matter of seconds, truly, and yet he was beyond his limit. Ten felt so far away. Amid the stars he felt he was falling deeper into her and somehow her scent was falling deeper into him. They were becoming one.

"...Ten!"

He heard his own gasp for air before he felt the filling of his lungs. His vision remained bright and blind, filled with stars and then slowly began to darken and focus once again. He had survived.

"You barely said hello. You gotta greet dem titties properly. Ready now? One, two, three."

He had survived, he was rescued, but what did she say? Greet them properly? Was she expecting...and then his face was once again thrust into her chest. If anything she had somehow managed a better hold on his arms and a simple squeeze would strain his shoulders even more, and still his hands were useless for any escape.

It was much like before. He wasn't caught quite as off guard but he really wasn't breathing steady before she put him back in his place. So it wasn't long before he was struggling once again, desperate for another gasp of air.

Knowing his arms and hands were of no use, he tried another tack. With one leg under him he tried to push himself up and off the couch, and thus out of her grasp. But he found he didn't have the strength. She barely noticed his efforts as she hugged him close to her.

Again her aroma invaded his nostrils, invaded his being. Again he felt the soft press of her body, both comforting and calamitous. And once again the stars began to fill his vision.

"Ah can't be spending every second worried about you. You gonna hafta learn to hold yo' breath; or breathe through yo' ears; sumpin'."

And he was breathing again. He wasn't sure how long it was this time, but he could feel his lungs expanding and contracting. Again his vision was returning slowly. But it never came fully back before he was thrust into that confining space once more.

He tried to struggle. Tried to let her know he wasn't able to do this. Tried to plead for mercy. But none of it worked. He never had a chance to speak. She cared nothing for his struggles. From somewhere he gathered she was timing him. Could she be holding him even longer? It didn't seem possible. And he was losing sense of where he was, much less how the seconds were ticking by.

And then, when she next let him up for air, he felt some kind of hood being pulled over his head. And then he felt her skin against his face. Her scent was even stronger, and there was a slight slickness to her skin. It took him a few seconds to piece it all together.

She had managed to pull him under her shirt. His head, and indeed much of his upper body was now under her shirt and against her naked flesh. And the slickness he felt was the perspiration of his previous smothering.

And now the hand at the back of his head had released its iron grip. It was on the other side of her shirt, on the outside, in the real world. And while it wasn't going to let him escape, it was now petting him as if to soothe a wild beast; a beast trapped within her shirt, and within her heavy, sweaty breasts.

"Alright now, just relax. You poor little titty baby. Momma's got you."

It sounded like motherly care, which contrasted from the distress he had just experienced. And he wasn't out of the woods yet. He was trapped within the makeshift tent of her top, and still had little room to move. At least it was easier to breathe now. Not really easy, but easier.

"Momma's little titty baby's got a lot to learn. But I know you can do betta."

She was still stroking his head, petting him, while he was held motionless and helpless beneath her shirt. His eyes had adjusted, though there was little to see beyond the dark skin, an inch from his face. He also shifted so he could breathe easier and not just through his nose.

She allowed that, but she clearly wasn't letting him go. Still in comparison to his initial ordeal, he was able to relax.

"Silly little baby. Thought you was ready for that nipple didn't you. Naw, you got to earn the nipple baby. You gotta earn it."

He had almost forgotten about them. The trauma of suffocating within her top and her flesh, the attack on his senses, the pain and restriction to his arms and shoulders, it had all been on his mind. But he hadn't even realized he never came close to contact with her nipples. Even through the shirt he was forced into her deep cleavage and never felt them at all.

He knew they weren't far. He could guess their location on either side of his head and perhaps lower. Maybe he didn't know just where they were, but he knew he hadn't really met them yet. And while it appeared he would meet them someday, she was suggesting it was a privilege he would have to earn. What could possibly be required of him to earn that right?

He was breathing easier now and more settled, if still trapped. But he still couldn't escape the musk of her body, and he felt the sweat of her skin on his lips. He wasn't going anywhere.

"Yeah baby, why don't you give Momma a little kiss. Go on. You gotta kiss for Momma?"

He was in no position to fight her. He couldn't even argue with her. So he did as she asked and gave her a kiss. He was kissing her skin, her bare skin, but not only that. He was kissing the skin between her massive breasts; and he was also kissing her sweat.