Uses of a teacher

It is a curse of all young teachers, thought Sandra, that they have to do all the shitty work the older hags wouldn’t do. It wasn’t as if she was being paid for doing extra time like her dad was. She didn’t even get a bonus.



Not that she could do much . It was her first year teaching and she knew very well she was on contract. if they liked her she would stay if not she would again find herself in the college part time job at the food station. She needed this job badly and that meant she had to impress the seniors. And impressing seniors entailed staying after school to help out the physical training department handle the unruly boys training for the games.

This particular day, it was particular irksome for two reasons, one, because it was the end of the month and second, because it was a particularly hot day. Sandra, dressed in a white blouse that did its best to hide her 34C bustline, and a plain brown skirt, (she tried so hard to appear conservative and so impress the real prudes that she was regarded as one herself )was nevertheless feeling sweaty. It didn’t help matters that the boys found her attractive (she wished this had been the case in college when she was a geeky teenager) and she had to be extra careful to avoid “showing ” herself. To add to her misery Ms Clarins had taken the task of overseeing the girls.

so now she had to go under the sun to see a bunch of guys fight for balls. Sweaty stinky guys who’d likely be high on testosterone and ogle at her 26 year old body. Boys who were difficult to control for the seasoned veterans, and tended to gang up on newcomers and part-timers, if what she’d heard was correct. Sandra almost wished she had stuck to the food station job.

However, she had chosen the teaching job, and was reminded of it rudely when a rather exhausted Mr Jacobs turned up at her class. “Ms. Roberts, you’ve got to come. It’s a nightmare handling the football and basketball teams together. I’ve already broken up two fights, and a third one’s brewing. Maybe you could make them see some sense.” Sandra doubted she could make 18 year old senior students see any more sense than the 6’3 190lbs Jacobs, but she knew it was her job. Closing her books, she got up, buttoned her blouse to the top and headed out behind the PE teacher towards the field.

Mark sat on a bench sipping an energy drink as he and the other football team members decided the practice team groupings. At 6’4 he was taller than Jacobs, and if the cheerleaders were to be believed, more handsome too. He was presently leading the team in the abscence of the regular captain, and quite enjoying the deference that came free with the job. Looking up, he saw that a minor argument had erupted between two players. Getting up, he stepped between the two and pulled them apart. Both looked surprised at the intervention, spat parting insults but didnt try to fight again – taking on Mark wasn’t the best policy for anyone willing to retain his teeth. Smiling, Mark finished off the team breakup and the members began to put on their gear.

Five minutes after this, Sandra saw the students head out onto the field, their helmets glistening in the sun as they playfully shoved each other and split up, Jacobs shouting instructions to them. She didn’t know what to do, never having thought her job as a geography teacher would entail such work, and not being too interested in games in general. Hence, instead of helping out Jacobs, she headed to the shade of a tree on the side of the field, and sat down, wiping her face to remove the sweat forming there.

Presently the game began, the two teams (to her atleast) wrestling for the ball as Jacobs jumped about waving his hands. For a while she found it mildly interesting, not because she liked the game, but because she found the boys, all 18 and above, to be rather attractive. True that she was far older than them, but she likely had half the sexual experience they or their girlfriends had, being a bookworm and a closet masturbator. Now, as the sweaty muscular bodies fought, tumbled and stretched, she found it hard to ignore their virile bodies or the fact that she was wishing (rather her body was wishing) she could be in one such set of burly arms, the strong muscles holding her like a vice and pressing her against the guy’s body.

In particular she liked the captain of the blue team, a guy she’d heard was called Richards by the coach and Mark by friends. Among the tallest, his physique was one she’d always longed for in college, but found her own plain Jane looks insufficient to get one. Likely he too had a hot slut of a girl for his lover, maybe even two, but what did it matter ? She sat there admiring the way he tackled the lesser boys, dodged the hulks and stretched full to score for his team. And it didn’t stop there. Barely had the whistle gone off that he was up again, adjusting his helmet and running off to fend off a challenge from the opposition, his face showing a steely determination that she loved and admired so much. Here was a guy truly after Sandra’s heart.

Heart and body it seemed. Unconsciously she’d started imagining him as more than just a tender lover. Looking on, she felt a slight dampness having developed between her legs, her snatch itching for some attention. if not from him, then from her own panties atleast. She cursed herself only to realize that her gaze was riveted on him, her body wanting him as much as her mind longed for his tender caress. She crossed her legs again, the feeling in her loins refusing to subside even as she shifted time and again, her cotton blouse suddenly very uncomfortable against her erect nipples.

Just then though, she was saved by Jacobs. He was apparently miffed at her lack of interest in the game, and felt she should shoulder atleast some of his burden. So when he declared a break in the game, he walked over to the semi aroused girl and asked her if she would mind helping him in ways other than enjoying the tree’s shade. Startled out of her reverie, Sandra had no option but to mumble a hasty apology and follow him to the edge of the field, the heat resuming its assault on her blonde head. Jacobs called off the break, his primary purpose achieved, and the boys gathered around the two teachers.

Sandra found herself dwarfed by the other boys, her 5’7 frame, by no means the shortest in college, appearing like a child’s between the heavyset boys. Jacobs quickly introduced her to the boys, and she was promptly greeted by a few polite and some openly lecherous looks from the group. Feeling suddenly unsafe and not so sure of her authority as she normally did, Sandra instinctively looked at Mark, the clear authority in the group. It was stupid, she knew, for a teacher to look at a student for support (support for what, a part of her mind asked) but she found it reassuring to see him smile at her with a twinkle in his eyes, the sweat framed face atop the muscular torso making the young teacher go weak-kneed before she controlled herself and suggested (for her own good) that the boys head off to play. Mark smiled at her again, and ran off.

Once the boys were gone, Jacobs gave her an odd look, one that suggested he’d not been entirely oblivious to her arousal, before heading off, asking her rather curtly to stand at the edge and keep an eye on proceedings. But once alone, Sandra again lost herself in her daydream, the figure of Mark dancing in front of her eyes in ways it definetly wasn’t on the field; dancing to a slow tune in a ballroom with her in its arms, looking deep into her eyes. She could almost feel his hot breath, her nipples pushing against his chest as he pulled her closer to himself and kissed her with passion, those manly lips grinding her feminine petals before pushing through into her….WHAM!

In her daze, she’d walked onto the pitch, and one of the boys had collided with her trying to catch the ball. Sandra found herself falling to the ground beneath his bulk, her legs collapsing and her torso being buried under him. Luckily for her, the guy didn’t land right on her, saving her from serious injury, instead landing beside her, even managing to roll away safely as he himself lost balance and fell. Stunned nevertheless at having to stare at the sky with a helmet partially obscuring it, she tried to get her bearings, pushing at the guy as she tried to get up.

But as it happened, her arm was trapped under him, and he had to move for her to rise. So she turned towards him, weakly pushing at his jersey, but to no effect. He seemed to be more dazed than she, and was just now turning towards her, his body rolling towards her as it tried to get up. Her arm came free, but now her gaze was completely filled by the helmeted face.Mark! Her gaze unable to adjust so fast, all she saw were a pair of penetrating eyes inches from her face, looking deep into her own in that moment when the rest of the world had become irrelevant by the fall. Mesmerized by his gaze, she moved closer, feeling his breath upon her lips, wanting to take off the helmet to reach his face, kiss him and fulfil all her desires. Instead, she felt him reach out his hand. She freed her own to meet it. He brushed it away. The next moment it clamped on her tit.

The grip was tight, hurting her, making her want to pull away, to assert herself and regain her rightful place in the world. But he held her there, his eyes keeping her transfixed as his fingers plunged into her soft blouse and the delicate flesh within. The look was no longer friendly, reassuring; it now had a primal hunger in it, a lust mixed with an urge to dominate, to bend her to his will. He was testing her, seeing how strong she was, how weak her lust had made her. she could not pull away, even if she wanted to: only he could let her go.

With a brutal twist, he let her go, rising up, letting the sun in again, ending the close encounter to reveal the team and Jacobs standing around, looking concerned and a wee bit amused by the collision. Her tit aching and her mind in shock, Sandra got up and mumbled another reply to Jacobs. Looking down at her tit, she saw that the cloth was more bunched up there than on her other side. She wondered if the looks of amusement stemmed from this, whether this chance encounter and Mark’s audacity would turn him into a folk hero and her into the stereotype of a slut.