Me and Mrs. B.

Mrs. B. was a great teacher for 10th grade English. Funny, engaging, personable—and a bit flirty. She was in her late-20s, just a couple years out of The University of Michigan, cute, nice body and flaming red hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She knew the boys all lusted after her and she did nothing to discourage our interest. Students even gave her a nickname, “Bubbles.” The administration was not pleased, but Mrs. B. didn’t seem to mind. She liked the attention. Oh, and I think that we actually learned a lot of English Lit between the horsing around.

This was many years ago, back when teachers could lay an encouraging hand on a student’s shoulder without being labeled a sex offender. Teachers could sit close by a student to help them with a hard concept, and no one thought anything of it. The boys flirted back with Mrs. B. and the girls got valuable lessons in how to attract boys’ attention and drive them crazy. It was fun. And, Mrs. B was married with a couple of young kids, not that it mattered. It was all just innocent fun.

I had the worst crush on Mrs. B. It was in her class that I learned that I have a fatal weakness for redheads. I loved to watch her move through the room. She wore skirts and dresses that were too short for female students, but no one complained. It’s just who she was. She had lovely legs, no reason not to let the world see them. When she wore pants (they were just recently allowed), they were skintight, revealing a cute tight little ass. Tops were also tight, often with some cleavage showing between her pretty B-cup breasts.

Being a horny 15-year-old (almost 16!) with a bad crush I tried to hang around Mrs. B. as much as possible. I went to her office for help with assignments when I didn’t really need it. I took every opportunity to touch her arm to get her attention or sometimes give her a friendly squeeze or hug. She always reciprocated with a smile. I imagined she enjoyed my company.

Looking back on it, I think it was pretty clear that Mrs. B was sending me signals. At the time, I just thought I was imagining things, why would she be sending me signs? I was just a dumb kid. Sure, I was tall, not bad looking with a muscular body for the time. I got some attention from the cute girls but I was just a dumb kid with a stupid grin who was always hanging around stealing glances at her tits or her lovely legs and ass.

Still, she made me nuts. When the class would be working on an in-class assignment, she would float around the room, answering questions and offering advice. She always paused at my desk, squeezed my shoulder or rubbing it a little and ask if I needed help. I thought she kept touching me longer than she did with the other kids, massaging my shoulder or sliding her hand down to the middle of my hunched over back. I would break out in a sweat whenever she touched me, and my cock, which was in the teenage stage of always being semi hard, would become rigid and strain against the fabric of my underwear and pants.

One day she definitely knew the effect she had on me, even if she hadn’t before. I was writing an essay on The Grapes of Wrath and asked Mrs. B when she came by if a word was spelled correctly. She leaned over, her silky red hair brushing against my cheek and her breast lay against my left shoulder. My cock stiffened instantly—and uncomfortably. Without thinking, I reflexively reached down and maneuvered my throbbing dick into a more comfortable position. It did create a sizable tent pole in my pants that I tried to push down and hide, which only drew attention to my crotch. Mrs. B blushed noticeably, stood up while stifling a laugh and muttered an apology.

“Sorry…I didn’t…sorry…I wasn’t trying…”

“It’s okay,” I mumbled, trying to pretend I was back working on my paper. My face was much redder than hers.

After my boner mishap, either she was getting more daring, or my imagination was running wilder. One day Mrs. B. was wearing one of her short short skirts, no stockings, just muscular shapely legs. She couldn’t help but notice me watching her move around the room. She stopped at the desk of the student in front of me and bent at the waist to look at her paper. When she slid her hands between her thighs and bent a little farther, her skirt raised exposing her panties. They were red. And lacey. I thought she gave me a sidewards glance to see if I noticed. Maybe not. It really didn’t matter, though. As soon as I glimpsed those skimpy panties, I came in my pants. Right then. In class. I’m not proud, but I was only 15, I could cum at a good card trick. I had it bad.

Towards the middle of the semester, Mrs. B. devised an assignment where we had to act out a soliloquy from any Shakespeare play. I chose Marc Antony’s “Friends, Romans, Countrymen” speech from Julius Caesar. As we had to be in costume for extra credit, I brought a flat sheet to school to fashion into a toga of sorts. There was a supply closet in the front of the room where people could change. Boys would pretend to peek in the closet when girls were changing. There wasn’t much to see for the most part, as girls might throw a long night gown over their clothes to play Juliet. The door locked on the outside when closed completely, so the few kids with major changes could do so with some privacy.

When it was my turn, it didn’t really matter if the door was locked, as I was only going to take my shirt off before wrapping myself in my “toga.” I left the door ajar as I went into the closet to change. Outside, I could hear Mrs. B and some of the students joking about my costume.

“What did Romans have under those togas?” Laughter.

“If you have to ask…” More laughter.

“No, stupid, I mean did they have underwear or something?”

“That would be a good term paper topic,” I heard Mrs. B remark.

“I think they were naked. Underwear wasn’t invented then? I don’t know.”

“Is Jim getting naked in the closet?” Even more laughter.

Mrs. B: “He better not be! I’ll check!” Most laughter.

Mrs. B opened the closet door. I had my shirt off, but otherwise dressed of course.

“Are you naked, Jim?” she asked playfully. At this point, another student pushed Mrs. B into the closet and closed the door locking us in. Mrs. B stumbled into my arms. Outside the students were hooting, laughing and pounding their desks. Mrs. B looked up at me. Rather than stepping back, she pulled me closer. We looked at each other a little awkwardly. My dick strained against my underwear.

“Uh, yeah…um…” I tried to say something. Nothing came out.

Mrs. B smiled up at me. “Well…?” She put her hand behind my neck, pulled me closer and gave me the best, most sensual kiss I’d had to that time. Definitely in the top three kisses of my life. I pulled her closer and reciprocated as best I could. I felt her naked leg slip between my legs, and she rubbed her thigh against my tortured shaft through my jeans. I so did not want to cum in my pants at that moment. Mrs. B. saved me. While still kissing me hard, Mrs. B. ran her hand down my bare chest and moaned softly.

“Mmmm…nice…” she whispered as she broke from our kiss and captured my gaze in the dim light with beautiful green eyes I can still see in my mind. She watched my face as her hand continued down across my belt buckle until she could clamp her hand around my cock through the straining fabric.

“Mmmm…even nicer…it’s okay…” I reflexively flinched as she ran her hand along the outline of my cock.

“Sorry.” Mrs. B. couldn’t see me blush in the dim light. She grinned up at me. “No one ever touched me there.”

“Well, Jim, that’s about to change.” I could feel her hand searching for my fly. The zipper made a soft ripping sound as she slowly opened my pants and reached inside for my stiff dick. “I am going to take care of this problem for you. You can’t recite Shakespeare with a boner like this.” She kept her gaze fixed on me as she slowly dropped to her knees while gently rubbing my cock. Once she got face-to-face with my member, she swirled the head with her tongue.

“You have a beautiful cock. Has any girl sucked it yet?”

“Uh, no. That was only my second kiss ever.”

My cock is just under 7” but pretty thick, with a slight upward bend. Still watching my face, Mrs. B. cupped my balls in her hand and wrapped her lips around my trembling dick. I watched the head of my cock disappear into her mouth. Her mouth was warm and wet, and she rubbed her tongue along the base of the head. I’d like to say at this point I grabbed her hair and fucked her mouth for half an hour, but I was a horny kid. When her tongue touched the base of my cock, a thick stream of semen jetted into her mouth. I heard her swallow my cum, and I learned that a woman swallowing my load is about the sexiest sound around. Mrs. B. gulped down the next stream and the next as my youthful balls filled her mouth over and over.

“Oh God Mrs. B! Shiiiittt! Fuccckk! Mrs.B!” I exclaimed in a whisper, knowing that the students out in the classroom could hear anything louder. My cock kept spewing cum into her warm mouth, and Mrs. B. guzzled down every drop. When my cock stopped shooting cum, Mrs. B. swallowed my entire shrinking dick, and then gave my balls a lick.

“Yum! Delicious!” she said, licking her lips. “Are you okay?” she was looking at me, now concerned. My legs were wobbly, and all of my blood was in my dick, but my body was glowing like never before.

“I’m fine…sorry…that was quick.”

“Sweetie don’t worry. I wanted your cum and we don’t have all day in here. You’ll do better next time.” Next time? Did she just say next time? “Of course you can’t tell ANYONE about this.” Mrs. B. helped me arrange my toga and made sure my zipper was up. Students hooted when we left the closet.

“False alarm everyone,” Mrs. B. announced. “Jim has pants on. I checked.” More hooting and whistling. The rest of that class is a blur, but I must have done okay. I got an A for that assignment…

I don’t remember a lot about the next couple of days. I couldn’t shake the image of Mrs. B. on her knees gazing up at me while my cock pulsed a geyser of cum into her mouth. Not that I wanted to shake the image. I do remember beating my cock like it owed me money for days after the closet incidence.

Mrs. B. was very different, though. Our class only met once a week, but there were times when she and I would cross paths in the course of a day. I noticed that either she must have changed her path to avoid me or averted her gaze when we did cross paths. She did not appear to be her usual ebullient self. She was noticeably absent from her office during times I would usually drop in to say hello. I guessed the experience was not the life changing event for her as it was for me.

The next time our class met, I tried all period to catch her eye, without success. I dawdled after class to be the last one to leave. As I approached the door, Mrs. B. cut me off and closed the door, leaving the two of us face to face. She looked stern as she faced me. Still hot as fuck but stern.

“We have to talk,” she said sharply.

“I didn’t tell anyone!” I protested. “Promise.”

“Oh, I know,” she replied. “I would be fired or in jail or both if you had. We both know that shouldn’t have happened and can never happen again. I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me.”

“I’m sorry too. But I like you so much!” I said with typical juvenile lameness.

“Of course you do!” she hissed. “I just gave you your first blow job.”

“Well, yeah, and, well, damn. But we kissed too. You liked it too, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I liked it too much, and that it why it’s not going to happen again,” she said with perhaps too much candor. I stepped toward her and hugged her. She put her hands against my chest as if to push me off, but then changed her mind and let me hold her. Her fingers played with the placket of my shirt. I lifted her chin to face me. “We can’t…” She looked frightened but pressed her lips against mine as we shared another amazing kiss. I dropped my hand and cupped her pretty ass. She didn’t resist. I slowly lifted her short dress and reached inside her lacy panties and caressed her baby smooth ass cheek.

“Ohhh…” I kissed her neck as I ran my fingers along her crack. So soft, so smooth. I slid my hand around her hip and ran my fingers through her soft pussy hair. She pulled her head back and gave me a surprised look but didn’t stop me. I think she even spread her legs a bit as I slipped a trembling finger between her moist labia. Warmest, softest most heavenly place ever.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, eyes closed and head back. “We can’t do this.”

“I want to make you cum like you made me cum. Please let me.” She took my hand, and I thought she was going to pull my hand out of her panties. Instead, she slid her hand down my fingers and touched the finger in her pussy. Gently she guided the tip of my finger to her clit and used my finger to rub a circle around her button of flesh.

“Here. Like that. You’ll make me cum.” She withdrew her hand and began to paw at my belt buckle. She opened my pants roughly and plunged her hands through the waistband of my underwear, grasping my ball sack with one hand, wrapping the fingers of her other hand around my shaft, stroking me hard. If I hadn’t already jacked off twice that day, I would have cum right there. Mrs. B. was staring me in the face, looking stern, but her face was reddening and her breathing more rapid with her oncoming orgasm.

“Look what you’re making me do? I was supposed to stop this and now…Oh fuck!! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Yeah, right there…right there…just like that…just like that…just like…oh my fucking God!!” I felt every muscle in her body tense and then release in a rush of pleasure. “Ooooh…ooooh…oh! Yeah!” I pulled her closer until her body stopped trembling. I withdrew my finger from her pussy and licked her juices from it. Mrs. B. was smiling now as she pulled harder on my rigid dick. She started to pull my pants down over my hips and going down to her knees, but I stopped her. She looked up at me, surprised.

“What are you doing? I want to suck your cock baby.”

“I’m not done with you yet, Mrs. B.” I lifted her dress and pulled her panties off her hips. She looked at me quizzically as I dropped to my knees, but she wiggled her hips to help me remove her panties, stepping out of them when I got them down to her ankles. “Turn around. Bend over. Hands against the wall.”

“Jim, we can’t fuck here, not now,” she protested, yet turning to the wall and bending over cooperatively. For the First Time I was face to face with her very wet pussy and got my first look at her light brown asshole.

“I know. I’m not.” I grabbed her slim hips and plunged my tongue deep into her warm wet pussy, coating my face with her juices.

“Holy fuck! What are you doing? Where’d you learn about eating pussy?” This was long before the ready availability of porn that exists today. I pulled my face out of her tasty backside.

“I found a book my Dad has about sex and fucking and foreplay and all that stuff. You know I’m a good student!!” I joked. Mrs. B. laughed a bit then reached back and grabbed my hair and pushed my face back into her pussy.

“Show me what you’ve learned then!” With that, she ground her wet pussy into my face. I tongue-fucked her warm soft hole while massaging her clit with my thumb and finger. My nose was practically poking her asshole. It made me think of another section of Dad’s book, but I knew that would be too far. I was plunging her pussy with my tongue, and Mrs. B. was thrusting her hips, pushing herself back onto my tongue. Suddenly her head flew back and her back arched as she came hard in my mouth. Her long red hair tickled my forehead. “Yeeeessss! Fuck…Fuck…Jim…Fuck…” I could feel the goosebumps rise on her skin under my hands as her body trembled with delight.

When her vibration had subsided, I started licking up the copious amount of pussy juice wetting her labia and running down the inside of her muscular thighs. I spread her lips and ran my tongue back and forth the length of her slit, eliciting some soft moans of appreciation. I put my tongue on her taint and let the motion of her hips run my tongue from the edge of her pussy almost to her asshole. Looking back I really can’t believe I did this my first time out, but all thought, such as it was, was coming from my dick. On the next stroke, I spread her ass and ran my tongue across her asshole and the length of her crack. Mrs. B. froze but didn’t say anything. I ran my tongue slowly down her crack stopping to gently rim her butt hole. I remember being surprised that I liked the taste, and there began my lifetime of eating ass.

“Oooooh…” Mrs. B whispered, not pulling away, but neither joining in. “Really, I can’t let you do that. It’s too much.”

“Didn’t you like it?” I asked.

“Nobody ever did that,” she replied, not answering my question. “I have a class in 45 minutes and I’m a mess. And I still haven’t sucked your cock.” I was still on my knees behind Mrs. B., idly running my tongue along her taint. As I stood and grabbed my cock, I noticed that Mrs.