Bad teacher_(2)

I’ve been an English teacher at Border High School for almost ten years. It’s in a small town in northern Missouri that sits on the border of Kansas. The name stands for some misguided leftover pride from the civil war. I have no pride in it and really never thought I would end up in a town like this. It was my husband John that talked me into coming here, and lately I’ve been finding myself very bored.

It wasn’t always this way. John and I used to go to Kansas City to see shows on the weekends and go down to the lake on vacation. We had a great sex life and were pretty adventurous about where we would fuck. But something happened a few years ago when we pushed our way into our thirties. John became an old man in a lot of ways. We stopped going to K.C. and I was lucky to get some action once every two weeks.

Being a high school teacher, one of the first things you realize is that teenagers are kind of assholes. It’s a weird thing to rediscover after you get out of college and you’re finally becoming an adult and leaving your own teenage self behind you. Even at 24, when I first started teaching, I had forgotten what it was like, but my first week on the job I realized just how much of an asshole I had been growing up. After that first week of teaching I called my parents up and apologized; they laughed.

Another thing you realize your first year on the job is: it’s o.k. that they are assholes. What else can they do? They’ve got these crazy hormones racing through their bodies and have no control over their lives. So I always give them the benefit of the doubt.

And for the record, I had never once considered sleeping with one of my students — never. They were just kids to me; I mean, I taught sophomores and seniors, but they were still just kids to me. It’s not like you wake up one day and say, “I’m going to fuck one of the students today.” No, it’s a long slow burn, and it took me ten years of teaching and a lazy husband who would rather watch the football game than fuck me. And who would have thought Andrew Docking would be the one to change everything.

Andrew Docking was a nerd in the classic sense. He was tall, pale, and skinny. He had short black hair and thick glasses. The first semester I had him in my Sophomore Lit class, only two things really stuck out about him: one was that he was a straight A student and he wrote great essay papers, the other thing was that he would always have a great work of literature tucked under his arm when he walked into the classroom. He would look at his shoes as he walked by my desk and say “Hello, Mrs. Collins.”
My first thought was, he kinda reminded me of myself in high school. I was kinda nerdy and loved to read. He was very quiet and didn’t talk much that first semester. But I did notice that when he did talk, his voice was getting much deeper as the semester went by. This was pretty common for boys his age; I had seen it a hundred times before, but for some reason I was a little more intrigued about Andrew hitting the later stages of puberty. I wasn’t sure why. Then the semester was over and it was Christmas break.

My husband didn’t touch me once during the two-week Christmas break and I fell into a small depression. When my husband was at work I would just lay around the house masturbating. It was the only thing that saved my vacation. But at the same time I couldn’t wait to get back to school and get out of my house; I felt like it was sucking my soul. It’s like that Green Day song I liked back in the 90’s — but you know, for a chick.

The new semester meant a new schedule. I had Andrew for 8th period, the last class of the day. Over the first week I realized that most of the guys and gals coming to my class were freshly showered, so I figured they all had Gym class the period before. Over the weeks Andrew seemed to become more confident and it sounded like his voice had finally changed to a nice bass. Now when he would walk into the class room he would look me in the eyes as he said “Hey Mrs. Collins.”

That’s when all the talk started. Teenagers will just talk and talk. Teachers probably know more about these kids then their parents do, but as a teacher you learn to block it out. Half of it is just high school gossip and the other half you wish you hadn’t heard in the first place. But this was undeniable. All the jocks were being nicer to Andrew, calling him “The Babe” or “Louie” or “Slugger;” all the girls would giggle when he walked by. But it seemed nicer for some reason. It didn’t seem like they were making fun of him but were in awe of him somehow.

I couldn’t figure out what was going on until one day Andrew wasn’t in class. The late bell rang and everybody sat down I asked, “Is Andrew here today?” Lance, one, of the jocks laughed and said, “Mrs. Collins, I think he’s at the doctor’s.” “Oh.” I said. All the jocks laughed and Lance said, “Yeah, I think he had to get a cock reduction; he kept tripping over it.” The whole classroom roared with laughter. “Lance!” I shouted. “That is unacceptable, go down to the office right now.” Everybody kept laughing as Lance walked out of the class room. When Lance opened the door Andrew rushed into the room, hair wet from a shower and a late slip in his hand, he looked at me and said, “Sorry I’m late Mrs. Collins.” He handed me the late slip. “Coach Williams made me stay after and help put the baseball bats away.” The whole class lost it and started laughing again. Lance fell on the floor in the hallway, he was laughing so much. I shouted for everybody to stop and walked over to the door and told Lance to get off the floor and get down to the office. Andrew turned red and took his seat, but at the same time he seemed to love the attention.

That’s when it all came together for me; the nicknames were baseball references or baseball bat references, and right before my class all the boys would be showering together naked. My face flushed with the realization that this nerdy kid must have a big cock. Just thinking of these kids as having cocks was a new thing to me; I had never thought about them that way. But for some reason for the first time thinking about all those naked teenage boys walking around the locker room with their cocks swinging around seemed hot, and the fact that this skinny-nerdy kid might have the biggest cock of them all really got to me.

That next hour of teaching I got so wet that I thought my students might smell me in the air. I didn’t know what was coming over me. I had never thought about a student this way before. And really, I hadn’t thought about big cocks that much either. It seemed like all the guys I had slept with where around the 5 inch range. My husband was only around 5 ½ inches long, but it never seemed to bother me. But now I couldn’t get Andrew’s cock out of my mind.

That was the turning point. It was a long slow burn, and then it was that one thing that flipped the switch for me. All I could think about was taking a huge cock in my mouth, or rather Andrews’s huge cock.

After the last bell rang and all the students left for the day I did something I had never done before. I locked my classroom door and sat at my desk and slowly put my hand up my skirt. My panties were soaked. I got my fingers wet as I moved the damp cloth to the side and started to rub my burning clit. I orgasamed harder in my classroom then I had all of Christmas break.

A few things happened over the next couple of weeks: the first was that I became obsessed with seeing Andrew’s cock. I knew that could never happen without me crossing a huge moral and ethical line, but that didn’t stop me from checking Andrew out every time he came into my class room. I would watch the front of his jeans just so I could maybe catch a glimpse of the outline of his mysterious meat. I even found myself looking up “penis size by age” on the internet, thinking that Andrew might just be big relative to other 16-year old boys; if that was true he wouldn’t be much bigger then my husband. That didn’t add up to my fantasy so I blocked it out of my mind.

The second thing that happened over those weeks was that Andrew seemed to be more distracted in my class, and his grade dropped from an A+ to a B-. This was not like Andrew so one day I asked him to stay after class.

After the bell rang and all the kids filtered out into the hallway I closed the door and locked it for effect. Andrew stayed sitting at his desk in the fourth row with his face in a copy of The Godfather. “How perfect is that,” I thought, as I walked back to my desk and leaned against the front of it. After a moment I said, “Andrew maybe you should move up front so we can talk.” He looked up at me with a red face and timidly said, “Uh, I need a minute, uh, this is a good part of the book.” Then he looked back down at his book.

I was confused by his defiance. “Andrew, we need to talk about your grade and I think it’s best we do it now.” He looked back up with shame on his face and said, “Uh, yeah, sorry Mrs. Collins.” Before he got up he adjusted his crotch with a nervous laugh. I realized where his defiance was coming from: the need to hide his hard-on. When he stood up he tried to hide his erection with his books, but lucky for me, it didn’t work. I lost my sense of self when I saw the thick outline of what looked like an 8-inch hard-on pressed up against his jeans. My pussy seemed to twitch as it got hot and wet. I was transfixed on Andrews’s cock so much; it took me a minute to realize he was talking to me as he sat down at the desk in front of me.

I snapped back to reality and said, “Sorry, I lost my train of thought. What was that Andrew?” He turned even redder and lowered his head and said, “Oh, I was just sayin’ I was sorry about my grade. It’s just been a real strange semester and, uh, I guess I’ve just been distracted in your class.”

“I’ve noticed.” I said, “But I also know you’re a good student.