tagLoving WivesTeacher Allie Ch. 01

Teacher Allie Ch. 01


It was day one back within the walls of what I had once considered solitary confinement. The school had always been filled with students yet I'd always felt it to be a lonesome place. It had felt like there was a conspiracy to ignore me. Being ignored can feel like not existing. Four years later there I was, in charge. I stood in the front of a classroom I had sat in as a student and stared at the empty seats. My seat had been in the second row, on the left.

I worked for four years to get through college to start this part of my life, the part where I return to fill a gap in me that high school had left entirely vacant. This time, I'd be noticed. I made it to the front of the classroom. Would that be all it would take? I'd dressed like my roommate had taught me in college. Maybe standing here, with my curves showing, would be enough to finally get eyes on me.

I had expected to feel confident but I felt nervous. I remembered what it had been like to sit in those seats. My parents were professors at St. Mary's and had taught me to dress conservatively, in ways that hid the curves of my body. They had taught me to dull the features of my beautiful face with makeup fit for a grandmother and by wrapping my hair into a bun every morning. To assure my virginity they had ensured that my braces not come up until high school was over. It worked. All it takes to turn a radiant smile into an awkward, nerdy one is the tiniest bit of metal. I found my way to science club instead of friends houses.

Bullied would be too harsh a word to describe my experience, more like unnoticed or, maybe sometimes, ignored. They I knew that now they would notice me, standing as the focal point of the room with clothes that displayed every curve. The key to having big breasts is finding shirts that hug your stomach. Otherwise, you just look fat. This shirt hugged my torso so well that you could see the outline of my bra. Where the shirt ended, my pants took over. They framed my ass and thighs and I'd make sure to wear a material that'd show the outline of my tiny thong. Looking the part is half the battle.

In my last moments of quiet reflection I could only continually mull over one thought: What would it be like? Would they see right through me, into the insecure girl that's still desperately seeking approval? Would they again ignore me and not even look up from their books and cell phones?

The bell rang and the students piled in. First in were a few girls that were almost spitting images of my earlier self. They looked studious and responsible, the type to always be on time. They had dorky glasses and ugly shoes, which is how I usually sum up my youth. They may not have had the interest of a single guy in the school, or the athletic ability to illicit cheers in field hockey matches, but they had their six figure incomes to look forward to as doctors and lawyers and accountants. Unless, seeking to heal an old wound, they became teachers and returned to their hometown to teach.

Next a few guys walked in, short, undeveloped, gangly, pale. They were future programmers of the world, I assume. More piled in now, the kids smart enough to not be first to show up. These students had friends at their sides, laughing and chatting. Then a few pretty girls walked in and my heart dropped. They were everything I remembered them as.

When I had been a Daddy's girl, those glamorous bimbos had already learned social common sense and knew how to make men bend to their will. As seniors in high school they were the ones that dated the quarter and running backs on the varsity team or even older guys out of college. Yeah, they slept in their parent's houses and still had to bend to their parent's rules, but when they were out in the world they could easily be mistaken as adults. They had beautiful, adult faces, full busts, high heels, and short skirts showing off their legs. I cursed my younger self for being so oblivious at that age. I was smarter now though, I knew what they knew, and more.

My brown hair was down, showing off my natural waves. For years now I'd kept my hair long, reaching almost to my breasts... almost. I made sure to not cover what I'd learned to be my best physical asset. My top was summery and left little to the imagination. A tight V-neck shirt with very short sleeves, it let as much show as I thought I could get away with. I'd tried on four different bras until settling with the one that pushed my C cup breasts up to fill the V as much as possible while still leaving a small gap between my breasts for eyes to follow their curves into the recesses of my shirt.

My knee length skirt was tight as well but I'd bought this particular one for its form fitting material that allowed my full, heart shaped ass to be fully admired. I'd also tried on four pairs of heels until finding the pair that pushed my ass up to its fullest. I knew the guys were too young to understand what heels could do for an ass and was going to use it to my advantage. I'd be noticed today. They couldn't ignore the curvy images I was offering them, could they?

Then it happened. A relic of my past walked in, a faceless symbol of what had laid out of my grasp. A marble statue of masculine athleticism walked through the door and into the back of the room. Then the tall tall, chiseled, hunk of stone took his seat in the back right of the class and my knees nearly gave out. He was followed by several buddies all of whom were of better than average looks but still, inferior. They looked years older than the pale, skinny male classmates that had piled in minutes ago. I returned my gaze to the chiseling work of art sitting in the corner. This is it, I thought to myself. This is what you've been needing for all these years.

The boys smiled and said their hellos to the pretty girls, that were now sitting in the back corner. The classicly handsome young man was dazzling the mares with a timless grin and heroic eyes. I stood unnoticed. The guys didn't even look forward, they were all smiling, laughing, flirting. It was just as terrible as I remembered. The seats were all filled and I wasn't going to be a wallflower. I walked over to the door and slammed it shut. The resulting boom even caught me off guard. Turning back toward the class, all eyes were on me. I immediately scanned the back of the room and noticed a few wide-eyed looks of interest and shock. Good, this is a good start.

I walked back to the center, put my clipboard on the center of my desk and leaned over to "view" the list. No harm in playing dirty. Leaning over a little further, I began taking attendance. I knew my tits were in full view and that the nerdy guys and girls who had arrived first and taken the front seats were going to get the privilege of being very familiar with my breasts over the semester. Hopefully they were in full view from the back corner as well.

"Good morning. I'm your history teacher, Mrs. Fuller. We'll go through all of the formalities in a few minutes but for now lets start with attendance. Bethany Bouchard."

"Here," a young, quiet voice answered after a moment's hesitation. My eyes shot up and scanned for the voice. A young redhead, sitting five feet away in the front row, her eyes firmly on my exposed breasts and her mouth slightly open. I'm up here sweetheart.

"Stacey Balkner"

"I'm Here." This tone I recognized. It was that of a confident, good-looking girl who knew how to add sex even to her voice. I looked up, noted the pretty face in the back left corner and put a check next to the name.

"Kailyn Palowski."

"Here". I followed the voice to the back left. Blond with waves like mine, big puppy eyes, an average face and wearing what looked like an innocent, long summer dress... except that the top was a V and her large breasts, I guessed Ds, were hardly contained. The spaghetti straps left her shoulders as bare as the tops of her breasts. Her skin was bronze. I'm sure she'd spent almost everyday at the beach. Maybe even a few nights getting fucked in the backseat of her boyfriend's car.

Finally I let my eyes look back to where the athletic guys were sitting. Their eyes were on my breasts. Every one of them was staring straight down my shirt. A few quickly tried to avert their gazes when they noticed I was looking in their direction.

I went through the rest of my roll call, which revealed that the statue of David was actually named Joseph, but he preferd Joe.

After going through the first day formalities I started the lesson. The class was "Twentieth Century War" and so we'd be starting by talking about a few of the world leaders in the early 1900s. I taught a lesson on Winston Churchill. It went far better than I had expected. No one appeared to learn anything about Churchill but my ass and tits received lots of interest.

I thought my well thought out methods for display would pay off but I was surprised by the size of the dividends. I noticed the boys were doing lots of seat shifting, waistband fidgeting, and a few still couldn't hide their hard cocks. Almost every guy in the class seemed entirely unable to do anything but stare and awkwardly glance away when I caught them.

I had a few of the pale, nerdy kids go into the closet and get the textbooks. We all read through the first chapter together and then I passed out a quick recap worksheet for them to do. I decided to have my first bit of fun. As everyone had their heads down doing their work, I walked around the room checking everyone's progress.

I had to cut off a few side conversations but atleast pretending to be trying. As I walked past the group of guys in the back right I brushed one of their desks, knocking over a half full water bottle. It rolled toward the wall. "Sorry I said softly" and walked over to pick it up. I bent over slowly, making sure to push my butt out as far as possible. When I stood back up and turned around, every guy in the corner awkwardly looked away. I guess they enjoy a good view.

It's funny how little work young men can do once you prime their minds with sex. In college I'd learned a lot about men. Once you start teasing them, the sex switch flips on and their minds obsess over it. I went on dates where the conversation was great. Some of the guys were genuinely smart and interesting. Invariably though, if I unbuttoned the top few buttons of my shirt, their side of the conversation would slow. If, as we walked, I ran my hand along their thigh and close to their crotch, elaborate answers turned into one sentence respones that showed no sign of intelligent life.

I wondered how dirty their young minds were. Were they picturing what I'd look like naked? Worse? Picturing fucking me? I could judge them for day dreaming what I knew was either one dirty thought or another. But, the truth was, I could feel the heat in between my legs.

I went back to my desk and pretended to read the next chapter. Instead, my mind raced. It seemed wrong to be so aroused from the attention. Still, I couldn't deny my racing heart or the wetness between my thighs. Curiosities were plaguing my sanity. What did Joe look like shirtless? Did he have a ripped chest... a huge cock? Or was he just a normal guy? A part of me wished I was alone, in bed, with my vibrator. I looked at Joe and studied his gorgeous features. A part of me felt like this whole thing was a mistake. My eyes dropped to the pen in front of me and I began to fidget.

Jesus, you need to get it together, I told myself. On my first day I was daydreaming about sex and was so horny I couldn't wait to masturbate when I got home! What had I got myself into?! A year of flirting with temptation couldn't be a good idea. This was going to be a yearlong act of playing with fire. Ugh, my poor vibrator, I'll be going through batteries on a weekly basis.

I was too nervous to sit still. I popped up from my seat and began to walk up and down the rows. The students were finishing their worksheets. Between the desks what should have been walking space was littered with bags and purses. I paced the aisles, careful not to trip, while trying to judge if any of the jocks were still sporting hard-ons. A voice in my head that I'd been ignoring tried to tell me that all these thoughts were messed up.

Maybe... I should quit. This might have been a mistake, to let myself drool over tall, athletic guys all day. I could teach 1st grade and the kids would say funny things and draw stick figures. No temptation, no chance of getting myself into trouble. For a few minutes, that thought was a real possibility. I circled the class a few times and promised myself I'd think on it seriously after I got home. Of course, that never happened.

I gave them a few more minutes to finish their work, then collected the assignment. Glancing at the papers and the answers given, clearly none of the kids in the back rows were capable of scanning their textbook for blatant answers. Reading independently had never been a pretty person's skillset, this I already knew. Adapting, I had the students take turns reading the second chapter aloud. Listening to jocks butcher a name or place every few sentences brought back vivid memories of high school. I looked to the nerds in the front row and watched them wince in response to hearing common names in history sounded out syllable by syllable. I'd sat there four years ago and made the same faces.

Quietly, I thanked my parents for bringing me up to be oblivious of my own beauty. I was a hypocrite for thinking it. I'd cursed them a thousand times for tying cinderblocks to the feet of my social life and pushing me into shark infested waters. I'd always assumed they'd done it because they were traditional people, naive to the ways of the real world. Maybe, though, they purposefully stuck me in ugly clothes and thicker glasses than I needed.

The blonde now reading about London in 1944 closely resembled what I imagine an eastern block hooker to look like. As she read, I surveyed the class and by that, I mean Joe. He'd been stealing glances at me the whole class but now he appeared to be staring directly at my tits. Given the deep V cut and the form-fitting shirt, I felt a bit naked beneath his gaze. Before the eastern block hooker could finish her poetic reading, the bell rang.

The students began packing up. "Can a few students please volunteer to put the books back in the closet?"

Joe answered for them, "sure, no problem". He tapped two of his buddies on the shoulders. The three of them started walked around picking up the books. I stacked a few and brought them into the walk-in closet. I was halted by my shirt catching on the door handle as I walked in. Balancing the books with one hand, I unhooked my shirt from the handle, check my shirt wasn't ripped, then proceeded into the closet. As I put them away, Joe's two friends came in, and I pointed to the appropriate shelves. They dropped the books in the wrong place and left. Joe came in with the last pile.

As he walked past me his eyes went straight down my shirt. I pointed to an open space on the shelf and he set the books down on a different shelf. He was starring at my tits without the smallest attempt to hide his gaze. I looked down only to the shock that the door handle had pulled my shirt completely out of place. The V was now inches low and stretched open. My hands shot up toward my chest to fix it, then I grinned to myself. I left it as it was.

I slid past him to get his books and place them in the right spot, letting my bare breasts brush against him as I did so. Then I turned around and grabbed his friend's books. As I tried to back up past him, I 'accidentally' backed into him. I had better aim than I knew and my butt went right into his crotch!

"Whoops!" I let out as I teetered backward. As my body collided with his, his cock pressed into my ass cheeks. I was shocked to feel a rock hard dick suddenly right against me. As we collided, he grabbed my hips to steady me. Then there was a pause. That pause would ultimately change everything. His hard dick was pressing hard into my curvy butt and I didn't pull away and neither did he. Maybe he was thinking. Maybe trying to resist his urges. If I had been thinking 'oh, this isn't right, you've got to stop it', my life would be quite different. Instead my eyes closed and enjoyed his strong hands on my hips and my only thought was 'oh my god, his cock is gigantic.' Then the short moment was over.

Then it happened, a slight hump. His instincts were kicking in, however slight, I could feel his hips pushing into me harder and his grip strengthening. Then he stopped... another pause. My mind was racing, What is he doing, did he just hump me?! I could hear his get deeper. His grip on my hips tightened... my heart rate doubled. Then another slight hump. The fabric of his jeans slid, every so slightly, against my cotton skirt, his hard shaft sliding a few inches up my bottom and back down. Oh my god, I want it. Oh my god, I can't believe this, I want him to fuck me!! His grip on my hips tightened more and he was pulling me into him hard.

There wasn't a lot of clear thought in that closet. Neither of us said a word. We were both breathing deeply. Both not resisting what we wanted. I could feel my arousal from my head to my toes. I knew he wanted me, wanted me bent over. I wanted me bent over. I wanted him to fuck me with complete abandon. Please take control... no one's going to come in, we've got time. Please fuck me, I thought. It seemed worth the risk.

Without actually consciously deciding to, I started grinding my ass back into his crotch. I could feel every inch, every centimeter of his long penis pushing into the cushion of my round ass. That was all it took. His hands slip around my body from my hips to my tits. His palms over the fabric but the tips of his fingers falling into the V of my shirt and finding the bare curves of my natural breasts. His body was completely against mine. His shaft now vertical, pushing in between my ass. He clutched my breasts in his hands and it felt like arms of metal had wrapped around my body. He squeezed me, groped me, explored me. My mind clouded with ecstasy, my body tingled with arousal. It was the closest I've ever come to cumming without so much as touching my pussy.

He slip his hands back around to my backside. Then my eyes shot open. His hands were at the clasp of my skirt!! Oh my god. Jesus, he's going to fuck me! I was shocked, wanting it with every fiber of my mind and body. I wanted him to undress me and feel each curve. I felt the waistband loosen and suddenly my skirt slid down my thighs and pooled around my ankles.

Rough hands fell upon my ample ass cheeks and took full handfuls. He grabbed them, kneaded them, and then pulled up so hard that it brought my to my tip tops. He started humping again but this time he'd found my pussy. His jeans pushed up, between my legs. 'Why the fuck is he teasing me!! Fuck me!!' Irrational, crazed thoughts were all I had. He lowered his bulge from my pussy, then raised it back up even harder. The denim rubbing against my warm pussy pushed me to the edge. My muscles contracted and loosened, contracted and loosened. I wanted to cum but with his dick in me.

His fingers continued grabbing at my butt. Each grab seemed to take more and more of my ass into his palms. The tips of his fingers seemed to get closer and closer to the entrance to my. Every inch of my body was screaming for him to plunge his fingers into my cunt and finer fuck me to the orgasm that at the moment, I needed something in me, desperately.

He paused again. I heard him unbuckling and unzipping his pants. Thank god, I though with relief. I need to cum, I need him to fuck me.

I heard his jeans slump to the floor and the rustling sound of him pulling his boxers down. Then I felt it, a big, hard, warm dick against my butt. His hard cock fell against my lower back and the distinct feeling of skin on skin overwhelmed me. Relief washed over me. He was going to fuck me. He needed to fuck me! Then he began rubbing his hard dick all over my ass. He was slapping my cheeks with his hard cock! Then teasing my ass crack, running the tip of his dick up and down it. It was kinky and dirty and not what I needed. Fucking fuck me!! I screamed in my head. Shove your cock into me, fuck me, make me cum.

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byTimRailing© 27 comments/ 46344 views/ 41 favorites

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