A teacher gets a chance to live out every teacher's fantasy and have his way with one of his students only to find out she's become an adult with a mind of her own.
"How can you not remember me?"
I looked at her again closely. Did she have any idea how many students I'd had in the 20 years I'd been teaching? Certainly thousands. Hell, I had several hundred students this year alone. She was seriously cute though, so I was a little shocked that I couldn't even remember having her in class let alone what her name was. Usually I tucked the names, faces - and bodies- into the back of my memory for um, later recall.
"George Thompson! Is that YOU under that blond wig?" I said with mock excitement. 'I always knew you'd come out of the closet eventually. Looks like the surgery was a huge success!"
She put her tiny hands on her tiny waist and glared at me with the biggest blue eyes I'd seen in quite a while. I glanced down at the low-cut 'V' of her blouse, but what she had in there wasn't 'tiny' at all.
"I'm Crissy Thomson!"
Holy shit, it couldn't be. "Wait, you're that scrawny little mousy-brown-haired girl that used to sit in the back and draw pictures of horses during my lectures?"
She used to draw pictures of horses having SEX during my lectures, but I left that part out. One of her drawings had stuck to her homework. Walking to my next class I about tripped down the stairs when I saw it. She was quite talented actually. The raw power, the energy and the sexual tension was all quite vividly displayed in her pencil strokes. I'd used that particular piece of paper for months for inspiration.
"Yes, that was me as an underclassman. But remember my senior year I got a make-over and made the Cheerleading Squad. Senior year was FUN!"
I bet it had been. It was all coming back to me now. She'd blossomed over the summer from wall-flower to sexual goddess. Everybody wanted to be her, to be around her. And everyone, boy and girl, wanted to get into her freshly made over panties.
"Well well well! I'm so glad you've come back for the 10 yr reunion! What are you doing these days?"
She blushed slightly. "Actually, I've become a successful artist! I have a small studio in Greenwich Village. And I have you to thank for all my success.” She winked at me slyly.
“You were the only one who believed in me as an ugly duckling. I was hoping you'd be here tonight so I could personally thank you. I’m sure you don’t remember, but I’d had this terrible crush on one of the football players – funny, I can’t even remember his name now – and when he brutally turned me down you were the one who told me to forget him, that he wasn’t worthy of my attention. Of course you were right; he got what’s-her-name pregnant the night of prom. If that had happened to me, and it probably would have, I wouldn’t be where I am today. So you saved me from certain doom!”
"I'm glad I could help you through a rough spot my dear! So what sort of art do you do?"
She blushed again slightly. "My studio carries erotic and sensual art and sculptures. I enjoy finding regular people and finding their inner sexual God and Goddess and turning that loose. Would you care to see some samples of my work?”
Would I want to see some erotic art painted by a to-die-for-hot little blond spinner? Duh…
"I would love that!"
She pulled out her cell phone and handed it to me. I scrolled through several. They were simply amazing. Somehow she captured the excitement, the thrill of the moment. Some were of people just sitting or standing but there was no question what they were thinking. A woman was standing at the end of a bed, in the process for undressing for her lover. Another was of a couple lying in bed just holding each other but you could feel the sexual tension between them.
There were sculptures too. I continued to flip through images but was completely unprepared for the last one. It was a painting of Crissy. She was lying on a flight of stairs, legs apart, head thrown back. One hand was tightly gripping the railing, the other shoved hard between her legs, fingers a blur. It made me instantly hard.
"Oh shit, I forgot that one was in there," she quipped and grabbed the phone back from me. There was a bit of awkward silence.
"No, It’s ok. It truly is an amazing painting. Thanks for sharing your work with me."
"Ok, so I have a confession to make,” she said. “I'm doing a series on inspirational people in my life. If you'd be open to it, I'd love to do a portrait of you. You were so influential in my life during those years. I'd be honored if you'd accept..."
I didn't know what to say. I'm in my 40's, getting older and flabbier than I've ever been in my life. Why would anybody want to see me naked, almost naked, or aroused? But still, her pictures were amazing. If she could make ME look like THAT...
"I actually have some ideas and have done a few preliminary sketches. Can I show them to you in your office? Probably shouldn’t drag those out here!” She giggled and looked around nervously.
I looked around too. The party was going slowly and there wasn't much happening right now. "I could probably sneak away for just a bit," I thought to myself.
In minutes we were in my office with her sketches on my desk. She leaned over to spread them out and I stood agonizingly close behind her. As she arranged her work her firm ass would occasionally brush against the front of my trousers. Soon they were pushing back and with each pass she squirmed gently against me setting my brain on fire with need.
"I'll be damned if that doesn't look a lot like me! Okay, 20 years ago maybe," I said wistfully. She'd been pretty liberal with the 'poetic license' on my body.
"And darling that bulge, while flattering, is a wee bit on the large size!"
She looked over her shoulder at me with those big blue eyes and whispered, "Maybe right now. But give me a minute here..." With that she stood up and turned around, wrapping her arms around my neck while giving me the softest kiss I'd ever received. She smelled like Lilacs and Lavender and WOMAN. God, did she smell good!
I backed her up against the edge of my desk and pinned her to the edge with my pelvis.
"Why, Mr. Stevens! Is that all for me?" She reached down and fondled my raging need. Her fingers flew to my zipper and in seconds had snaked me out. She pushed me back and dropped to her knees. "Wow, I guess I never suspected you'd be so nicely..." her words trailed off as her lips parted over the head of my tool and took me deeply into her incredibly warm mouth.
Luckily I’d been feeling frisky all day at school. If I hadn't taken a load off in the shower while getting ready for the reunion I'd have disappointed dear Crissy by blowing my load right then and there. Fortunately, I was able to control myself as her lips sank lower and lower down my shaft. Her eyes got wide when I hit the back of her throat, but she didn't gag or pull off. I ran my fingers into her thick blond hair and held her head, not letting her back off until she started to squirm from lack of oxygen.
She panted for a few seconds, and then glanced up at me with the Devil's own look in her eyes.
I willed myself to remember that look, the feelings I was experiencing right now – this is what I wanted her to capture on canvas for all eternity.
"Crissy! Remember this moment. Remember what you're feeling, what you're seeing. Can you paint that?"
“I don't know but I'll try. Her gaze locked into mine. “But I want you to remember this..." and with that she inhaled my meat. Taking me slowly into her mouth, she worked her lips all the way to my pubic bone, her tongue sliding back and forth against my aching balls. I let her take me to within seconds of the edge, but each time I held her head tightly, not letting her up for air until I’d calmed down. Only soon I wasn’t calming down anymore.
I pulled her face up to mine and kissed her deeply while shoving papers and projects off the back side of my desk. I effortlessly lifted her tiny body and laid her down across my blotter. I yanked down her skirt and panties to expose her cleanly shaven 20-something mound. There wasn’t a blemish or stretch mark on her perfect skin. I mentally recorded that view, as I would realistically never get another chance like this.
Lowering my lips to her quivering stomach, I took my time kissing and nibbling my way down to her gorgeous mound. Ok, to be honest some women aren’t terribly attractive down there. I’d been presented with a few in my life where I just had to grin and lick it but Chrissy’s was just the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. And it was on fire. For me.
My tongue against her mound made her gasp and arch her back against me. Fingers wound into my hair and held my face hard against her, much as I’d done to her just minutes ago. I went oh-so-slowly through her folds, setting every inch on fire. Retreating to her thighs and tummy, I tortured her by not going back down where her insistent hips wanted me to go. I ran my hands over her thighs, up onto her stomach until my fingers just grazed the swell of her breasts and then worked my way back down to her knees. With my thumbs on the inside my wandering hands ran northward again until both thumbs were resting against her outer lips. Gently tugging them in circles her gasps and shudders told me she was enjoying this as much as I was. Her need built until she was thrashing around on my table with desire. I cupped her entire mound in my hand, rubbing her clit hard against her pubic bone. She came, long and hard. Her tension built and built until she cried out so loudly I was afraid someone would hear. I clamped my hand down over her mouth, letting her muffled scream die against my palm.
Before she could recover I jumped up laid myself against her drenched opening. Her eyes got wide as I worked my tool up and down her lips, then slowly sank a couple inches into her steaming sex. God, was she tight! I had to thrust over and over just to get inside. Each stab opened her up and allowed another inch. Eventually I was buried to the hilt. I stroked her deeply, filling her tight little body until her eyes bugged out. She shrieked against my hand, then mouthed “FUCK ME!” against my palm.
I did, pounding her against my desk. I may be flabby in some areas, but my stomach muscles are pretty strong. I relentlessly hammered her, reveling in the expressions on her face. I got the distinct impression that nobody had gone that hard that long and not come before. I wouldn’t have lasted 10 seconds had I not already knocked one off in the shower. But she didn’t have to know that! I was going to show her the advantages of older men.
She came again, eyes wide and then tightly shut. She bit down on my hand so hard I knew it was bruising but I didn’t care. I just kept thumping her as hard as I could. Another wave washed over her and I thought she was going to pass out. I was close myself from the exertion so I slowed down almost to a stop. Gently stroking her with every inch, I leaned down on top of her and softly kissed her neck, cheek and finally her lips. Our tongues eagerly explored each other. Each thrust ended up with my pubic bone against her clit and the pressure was getting to us both.
“I can’t take much more,” I said. But it was more of a question and she understood.
“I’m not on birth control but I’d really like to taste you when you come. Will you come in my mouth for me?”
Like I was going to say no…
I took my time working us back up into a frenzy and then hollered it was time. I stood up and stepped back allowing her to get up off my desk and kneel in front of me. She grabbed my balls, looked up at me with that evil look in her eyes and without breaking eye contact sank her lips down over me. The world exploded around me and I emptied myself into her eager mouth. She held me still, refusing to let me thrust any more. Her soft tongue circling my head kept me in spasms for longer than I’d ever come in my life but Chrissy managed to swallow it all. I grabbed her head for support while I wound down.
2 minutes later we were schmoozing in the crowd again trying to pretend as if nothing had happened.
Chapter two
“Honey, the Andersons want to know if their paintings are going to be ready by Friday the 18th?” I was standing at the bottom of the stairs that led to Chrissy’s studio. Since she’d gotten pregnant at the reunion I had resigned from the faculty and joined her in New York. Turns out I was pretty good at business, and that freed her up to do what she did best, which was make me so happy I couldn’t see straight. She’d taken her art to an entirely different level and we were on our way to being decadently wealthy. She waddled over to the railing and looked down at me.
“Well hello to you too!”
“Sorry, where are my manners?” I bounded up the spiral staircase and planted a monstrous kiss on her fat belly. “Hi kids!” I said to the twins. Wouldn’t be long before they arrived. The kiss I planted on Chrissy was long, slow and deep.
“Wow, I know what somebody’s thinking.”
She was right. Pregnancy suited her to a “T” and neither one of us had ever been happier.
“Tell the Andersons they will be ready by THIS Friday so long as the twins don’t arrive early.”
Thursday evening we were standing in the driveway watching the Andersons drive off with their paintings when her water broke…
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