I Had No Choice

I Had No Choice
By EFon

(This is a long story and has some build up, but I believe it’s worth it to really set the plot.)

What am I going to do now? I’m stuck in a no win situation, and the stress is killing me. I never wanted a complicated life, but I’ve got one weather I like it or not. Strange thing is that while I know it’s wrong, I cannot help but love it anyway. Now I had some wild times in college, but while I still was young, I fell in love and married my college sweetheart Rachel. We graduated and I became a Middle School math teacher, while she went to work at a Preschool Daycare business. Everything was going according to our life plans and I was completely happy.
Being a young male teacher teaching girls who were just entering puberty was difficult sometimes, but they were silly little crushes that were easily dismissed and forgotten. There was one particularly memorable one, a girl named Becky Whitman who was a gorgeous blonde with bright baby blue eyes. I was sure she would definitely be a boy-killer in a few years, and also very bright and unusually good at math for a girl. She was one of the first of her class academically, but also to have to wear a bra. You could tell her parents spoiled her rotten because she always got what she wanted.
When what she wanted was turned to me and was constantly drawing hearts and eyes near my name on the papers that she turned in for her homework. I ignored it kindly as these things seemed to pass after a few weeks, but it never stopped after six months. As the school year was coming to a close I asked her to stay after class for a few minutes and I explained that she was just going through a phase and she would outgrow it and move on to boys her own age. She took it poorly and cried so much I took her to the school nurse, where she spent the rest of the day.
I talked to the nurse the next day and she told me she’d never seen a crush that bad before, but was sure Becky would be fine in a few days. Sure enough she was out sick the rest of the week, but when she returned to class she seemed to have forgotten all about last week, and things went smoothly the rest of the year.
A few years later an opening in the High School opened up and I got a bigger paycheck and moved from teaching children to young adults, many of whom I’d taught years before. While much more adult now, the older girls were only interested in their class-mates who were finally realizing that girls were nice instead of icky. That was fine with me and it never crossed my mind at the time, but the year after that Becky was my student once again. I was right about my predictions of her. She had really grown up fast from the budding girl I’d known into the young woman she was now. Her long blonde hair shimmered, her cute face and long legs glowed, and her bosom had blossomed into quite a pair of life preservers.
I held my breath the first few days of class, but she acted like any other student and ignored me as much as possible. That was just fine, and I thought that was going to be the last I’d have to think about it. She proved that she was still at the top her class and made even the hardest problems seem easy and school went fine for the first month or so. Then Rachel, my wife, had finally told me she was pregnant and already three months along. We had been trying to start a family since I’d gotten the larger paycheck, and she’d been longing for kids ever since she started working at the Preschool. I was on cloud nine and it wasn’t long before the word spread and I was getting congratulations by other teachers and students.
The next four months seemed to fly by with my only real attention being my wife’s continuing pregnancy which did make her more moody and erratic. After we found that she was having twins and it was going to be a bit more work than a normal pregnancy, she took time off her job to stay home when she was seven months in, and we stopped having sex for the safety of the babies, and she was in no mood for it now anyway. I know this was just a phase she was going through, but it was still uncomfortable for me as well.
It must have showed on me more than I’d thought, because one day after class Becky came to talk to me. “How’s the baby doing?” she inquired.
“Good…good.” I sighed. “Babies actually; its twins if you can believe it.”
“I believe it.” She said with a muted smile.
“Well…just the labor pains of life,” I joked.
She smiled at me and left for her next class. After school I was heading out to my car a few minutes after all the school buses had left, when I spied Becky in her cheerleader outfit walking down the side of the road away from school. I pulled over to her, rolled down the window, and asked, “Not going to cheerleader practice today?”
She sighed, “It was canceled, but I must have missed the announcement, and after I’d changed I got locked out of the gym and missed the bus. So these are the only clothes I have and I got to walk home. My Mom won’t be home for, like, 4 hours, so I don’t have a ride.”
She sounded depressed and hopeless, and I just had no choice but suggest I give her a ride home. She didn’t perk up or freak out, just smiled slightly and said “Thanks Mr. Font” and got in and buckled up. I couldn’t help but notice that she had to adjust the seat-belt between her ample breasts that I now realized were quite a bit bigger already than my wife’s.
I felt a stir in my loins since I’d been celibate for over a month now, which I hadn’t done since my own days in High School over a decade ago. I took a silent breath and just asked for directions to her house and began driving. It wasn’t long until we were there. She got out and was about to say something, but then asked me, “Mr. Font, you may remember I’m living with my Mom since my Dad left, and since she’s going to be gone for a few more hours, I wonder if I could trouble you just a bit more. I’m supposed to mow the lawn, but the mower’s been making a funny sound and I don’t know anything about stuff like that. Could you just look at it? Pretty please?” She looked so honest and sweet that I had no choice but agree to help with what I could.
I parked and she led me into her garage where the mower was. She squatted down with me to look at the mower and while I checked it over I couldn’t help but see strait between her legs under her cheerleader skirt. It was just the white undershorts that all cheerleaders wear, but it still started cogs going in my brain that I had a hard time ignoring. I concentrated on the mower, checked the oil and fuel, all with her watching intently to my actions.
I stood start it and it did make a sound and wobbled a bit, so I killed it and turned it on its side. The blade was bent a bit on one side of the blade. “That’s the problem, you need a new blade.”
“Drat, I don’t think we have one. Is there any way to bend it back?” Becky asked.
“Well, I can hammer it strait and that will work for a few days if it doesn’t break first.”
“Great!” She stood and brought me a hammer.
I didn’t expect to get roped into this, but soon I was pounding away with the hammer. It took a few minutes, and while I do more of the housework every day since my wife is become more and more restricted in her condition, I’m no bodybuilder. I was a little tired after hitting the hardened metal blade with all my might for five minutes strait and wiped away the bit of sweet from my brow with the arm of my business shirt. “That should probably work fine.” I said, as I started up the mower again. It sounded a lot smoother and didn’t wobble any more.
“You’re the best Mr. Font!” Becky cheered, which again brought be to looking at her happy face and giggling breasts. I was about to say something when she continued quickly, “Here, you look like you need a drink. Please, follow me, the kitchen is this way.” She turned and opened the door into her house and waited for me.
I didn’t want to be rude and a drink did sound refreshing, so I had no choice but to follow her inside. She smiled and led me into her kitchen. She pulled out a soda from the fridge, opened it and handed it to me. It thanked her and took a long drink from it. It was a hot sunny day and it felt great and really hit the spot, until I began to feel uncomfortable noticing that Becky was just watching me drink. “I should really be going now that your mower’s fixed,” I said cautiously.
She looked like she’d lost her train of thought, but then came back and said, “Sure, right…wait here, I’ll be right back.” She ran out leaving me there for a few minutes, so I just drank and waited, not knowing what for, but just waiting. I looked out the window at the nicely manicured back yard and the refreshing looking in ground swimming pool. Her mother, I thought, must be hard working and have done well for herself and her daughter to live this well, and all by herself.
Suddenly there was a flashing light, and I turned around. There was Becky holding a camera taking pictures of me standing in her kitchen. “What? Becky, what are you doing?” I stammered.
“I just wanted to get a picture of you here in my house.” She smirked. “Thank you once again Mr. Font, here’s the front door,” she gestured toward the door down the nearby hall. “Please, have a good day and I’ll see you at school tomorrow!” She giggled like she was a kid who’d just gotten a joke.
I didn’t understand her, but said good-bye, left, and drove home. I sometimes have faculty meetings and papers to grade, so my wife didn’t think anything of me being home an hour after school ended. Many times I didn’t get home for several hours, so she was actually happy to have me home this soon anyway. We ate, did some house chores, and went to bed. With my heavily pregnant wife collapsed beside me, I had a hard time getting to sleep though. I couldn’t get Becky in her skimpy cheerleader outfit out from behind my eyelids, or make the throbbing stop in my hard Johnson.
Nothing else seemed out of the ordinary for the next few days, but on Friday when the student turned in their homework assignments on my desk at the start of class, Becky dropped off a purple folder. I didn’t know why she put her whole folder on my desk instead of just the few pages of paper like everyone else, but I went through the class and didn’t get to look at it until the bell rang. As the students left for their next class, I opened it up.
I saw her homework, but it was printed on a glossy photo paper. I inspected it and spotted why she had done so on the back. I saw myself, standing by her kitchen sink, just like I was, but added in was Becky on her knees, her naked ass and back visible at my feet, with the back of her head right at my waistline. You couldn’t see anything happening, because nothing was of course, but if anyone else had seen it they wouldn’t think that.
I gulped down a hot breath that had gotten stuck in my throat and just stared at the picture. I didn’t know what to do. I was just frozen with terror. Becky, making sure she was the last one out of class said in the sharp silence, “Mr. Font, I’ll need to talk with you about my homework after school, so I’ll see you at 3 o’clock.” She smiled, flitted her short skirt to show off her long smooth legs all the way up to her ass, and then breezed out the door into the throng of people in the hall. Students started coming in for my next class, and I quickly put the ‘homework’ back in the folder and stuck it in my desk.
It was a long and hard several hours until the end of the school day that day. Not only did I have to contend with my worry over someone somehow finding out about this picture in my desk, but I also had grown a raging hard-on that sprouted every time I thought about the picture. I tried to stay seated behind my desk, or hold a book or something over my groin as much as I could the rest of the day.
After the end of day bell rang and everyone else headed home, I pulled back out the folder and examined the photo again. It had to have been photo-shopped, but it looked good enough to get me hard again, even though I knew it was a fake. I still had no idea why she would have done this. She didn’t need to blackmail me for grades; she was at the top of the class.
“Having a HARD time understanding my HOMEWORK Mr. Font?” Becky’s remarks startled me and I again quickly closed the folder in nervous fright.
“Becky! I…uh…” I stammered trying to find the right words to resolve this dilemma.
“I think you should stop by and talk to my Mom. She’s home right now, so see you at home…” and with that she walked out and I my mind stumbled. Yes, that was the right thing to do. Her mother could give Becky a talking too and if he came to her with this she would realize what was happening. I got up and headed out to my car, seeing the buses file out one by one, and Becky in the window of one of them, kissing the window at me.
While I drove I knew then that this was all going wrong. Rachel was only a few months from giving me twin babies, and I hadn’t gotten tenure yet. Weather the photo was real or not, just the accusation would disgrace me, causing me to lose my job, and possibly even my family! I had no choice but to make this go away and prayed that Becky’s mother would be reasonable.
I arrived only minutes after the bus had arrived, because Becky was still waiting for me outside as I pulled up, got out, and walked in the door behind her. “My Mother is probably upstairs. I’ll get her while you have a seat in the living room. It’s right next to the kitchen. I trust you can find it there again.” She smiled evilly and I should have known something was wrong then, but she scampered up the stairs, giving me a look at her long smooth legs and tight teen ass clad in too tight and skimpy shorts.
I made my way down the hall and into the living room and looked around. There was a large television, a comfortable white leather couch with two matching armchairs. There was even a fireplace which is unusual this far south, and a heavy white fuzzy carpet underfoot. To the right I was forced to stare at the cursed kitchen where I was set up for blackmail the week before. On the mantle over the fireplace were pictures of the little girl I’d recognized from years ago, and back all the way to her as a baby. Along with her were pictures of her mother, who was also strikingly beautiful as well, but had deep red hair and emerald green eyes. I heard steps coming down the stairs and quickly took a seat on the plush couch.
In walked the woman I’d recognized as Becky’s mother from the pictures on the mantle place, although I was expecting her to look older than the thirty-something that was just a bit older than me. She was dressed smartly in a business shirt and skirt that went down to her knees. She was followed closely by Becky and I stood and held out my hand to her, “Hello Ms. Whitman, I’m Edward Font, your daughter’s Algebra teacher.”
She took may hand and squeezed it firmly, smiling and said, “Yes, I remember. What can I do for you today? I trust Becky’s doing well in her studies?” She sat into one of the arm chairs to my right, and Becky sat on couch with me, just on my other side. I nervously glanced at her smiling face as she sat, but quickly focused back on her mother.
My brain skipped a little at how relieved I’d be if only that was the problem. “No, I’m glad to say she’s bright, and always at the top of the class in school. I’ve come because I had some concerns over another issue.” I held the purple folder and gestured to it. “I don’t want to alarm you, but I was here last week because Becky missed the bus, and I offered to give her a ride home.” I paused to collect my thoughts take a deep breath and Becky’s mother simply nodded at me to continue.
“Becky invited me in and offered me a drink, and while I had my back turned she took some pictures of me. That was all, and I left. But today Becky turned this in to me with her homework.” I handed the purple folder over to her mother and stole a glance at Becky, who I expected to look horrified by what I was doing, or at least try to stop me, but she just looked smug and pleased with herself. This puzzled me, but I could only look back to her mother as she opened the folder and inspected its contents.
I expected and explosion or gasp or something, but instead Ms.