Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 -- Teaching Linda - Chapter One - ~By Henton98
*Disclaimer: This story is fictional.
   Chapter One: Clay Teller
   "I will be expecting you tomorrow afternoon, Linda." I said to my
student.
   The eight grader hesitated.  "Yes, Mr.  Teller." With that, she turned
and headed out of the classroom.  As she walked, my eyes trailed down her
plump figure, lingering on her ass and the subtle sway of her hips.  I
began imagining, as I so often did these days, what she looked like beneath
the uniform.  Oh, I had caught a glimpse of panties now and then when the
green tartan skirt was skewed just right.  Now that it was summer, the
girls were often prone to take off their vests, revealing bras under the
almost sheer white blouses.  Still, in all my years of teaching, that was
all I did; peek and imagine.  Linda, however, would change all that.
   I started cleaning the desk and packing my bag.  Normally, I would stay
in school longer to take care of extra paperwork Thursday afternoon.  I
would be turning forty-nine this year.  Nearing fifty and still single, I
suppose it was inevitable that I felt a little dissatisfaction. 
Financially, I was more or less set thanks to good investments, savings,
and a bit of tutoring on the side.  In six more years, I could retire
comfortably.  If that had been all, I suppose I could have just resigned
myself.  A colleague of mine put in a good word for me recently and I was
offered a position to teach in a college.  The pay was a little better, and
the workload lesser, not to mention the maturity level would be
significantly higher; so I could hardly refuse.  However, one niggling
detail bothered me; it was a men's college.  This would not only be my last
year at Bernadine Academy, it would be my last time teaching female
students.
   I walked over to the windows and looked down on the school grounds,
watching the student body slowly scatter as classes were dismissed.  I
fancied I could see Linda somewhere.  A student-teacher affair was never
far from my fantasies, but that was all it was; a daydream in the teacher's
lounge, something to help relieve the pent up stress after coming home. 
High school and college are the prime picking grounds for such affairs,
after all.  I've stroked it to girls as young as eleven since arriving
here, but forming such a relationship with sixth, seventh, and eight
graders was both unlikely and unwise.
   So what was I doing here, standing by the window and contemplating
having sex with one of my students, a thirteen year old at that?  I shook
my head and prepared to head out of the classroom.  Contemplation was long
over; tomorrow, on a Friday afternoon after school, I would be having sex
with Linda, that was already decided.  The thought got me hard in an
instant, bulging the front of my crotch.  The door opened just as I reached
it and the middle aged woman standing before me got a good look at the tent
in my pants.
   "Is that for me or one of the kids?" She asked, shutting the door behind
her and locking it.  I offered up an enigmatic half smile.  Jeanie Beauman
was the only teacher in this school who I could call a friend as well as a
colleague.  "It's Linda MacLaren, isn't it?" Jeanie said, rummaging through
my supply closet until she found the old gym mat.  She had a mischievous
twinkle in her eye as she walked back towards me.  Leaning in close, Jeanie
placed her hand snugly on my bulge.  "You just tell me all about it while I
take care of...  this." With that, she gave me a fond squeeze.  That was
Jeanie, always willing to lend an ear...  and a mouth.
   I put down my bag while Jeanie placed the gym mat on the floor and
slowly knelt before me.  She gave me a rueful smile as her knees creaked a
bit.  I could only nod as I tugged my pants down.  It's been eleven years
since I came to this academy and met Jeanie; time had done a number on the
both of us, though we had held up well enough.  Jeanie Beauman was two
years older than me, plain of face, and apparently resigned to
spinsterhood. Her once black hair steadily turned steel gray over the
course of the seasons, though still worn in a tight bun.  It gave her a
somewhat severe appearance, enhanced by the black rimmed glasses she always
wore.  I suppose Jeanie just looked the picture of a typical, stern faced,
middle aged teacher.  Though to me, she was anything but prim and proper.
   "Does she know?" Jeanie asked, taking a hold of my erect cock and giving
a few quick strokes.  "I can just picture the look on the poor thing's face
when you whip this out." Circling the base of my shaft, she wiggled my cock
lewdly.  While I wasn't of pornstar proportions, I had a decent length and
formidable girth; certainly more than a handful for a thirteen year old. 
"Hmmm..." Jeanie murmured as my cock twitched in her hand.  "I bet you're
picturing it too, hm?  Give me all the details, Clay..."
   I groaned quietly as her best feature, a pair of ruby red lips, slowly
slid down my throbbing cock.  I placed my hand on her gray head.  "There's
not a lot to it, Jean," I said as she began sucking.  Her free hand cupped
my balls lovingly.  "But I don't recommend you visit me tomorrow, after
class.  I will be holding a private session with Ms.  MacLaren."
   "Mmm-hmmm." Jeanie murmured her approval, looking up at me while bobbing
her head up and down my shaft.  Her lipstick was smearing all over my
manhood, developing a greasy sensation that enhanced the feel of her lips
sliding down my pole.  I felt her fingers trail down my balls, slowly
reaching under them and heading towards my rear.
   "She's suspecting something," I said, stroking Jeanie's hair.  "But most
certainly not having her legs spread on the teacher's desk."
   With a soft 'pop', Jeanie got off my cock and raised an eyebrow.  "So
you're finally going to live the fantasy.  Good for you." Part of what drew
me to Jeanie was her open-mindedness regarding teacher-student relations.
In fact, one of her own fantasies involved getting railed from behind by a
favorite male student.  While such an event had yet to occur, there was
always next year, as she was fond of saying.  "Just be careful," Jeanie
added, sliding a finger between my cheeks.  "It's a big step, no matter how
close you think you are with that girl."
   "We do have some history, starting back in sixth grade," I replied,
pulling her head back down on my cock.  "You remember she became a bit of a
delinquent, all of a sudden.  I sat her down one day after class and we had
a talk to straighten things out..." I still recall that day very clearly in
my mind, the tears that were just on the verge of falling as Linda opened
up to me bit by bit.  She was a curvy girl, filling out well before her
peers.  While not obese, Linda was most definitely on the plump side.  The
combination of early puberty and extreme self consciousness about her
figure was more than she could handle at the time.  I suppose I filled the
gap left by parents too busy or callous to give her the support she needed.
While our relationship is hardly like father and daughter, there was a bond
between us.  Tomorrow afternoon, it would be put to the test.
   Jeanie began to suck me fiercely, almost throwing herself on my rigid
pole.  The head of my dick was constantly thrust deep into her throat.  I
clenched my cheeks tight as she continued fingering my anus.  "I've watched
them come and go, Jeanie," I said.  "For twenty-five years, never touching,
just looking.  Forbidden fruit, just dangling above me." Images of fresh
faced, young girls showing off their new curves, danced across my mind.
   "I can't leave, Jean, not until I've had a taste of that fruit..." I
grit my teeth as my climax hit.  My hips jerked powerfully, cramming even
more hard dick in Jeanie's mouth.  She was an old pro at this by now,
however, and expertly took the first spurt deep in her throat.  I filled
her with the rest of my ejaculate and watched her swallow all of it.  I
will never tire of this sight; the stern, gray haired teacher submissively
sucking me off.
   Once I was spent, Jeanie pulled away, wiping strings of cum dangling off
her smeared lips.  "Even if it means throwing away what you have with Linda
now?"
   Attempting to catch my breath, I didn't answer straight away.  Deep
down, I suppose I was...  fond...  of Linda MacLaren, in my own, aloof way.
Though I've had the occasional fantasy, I never seriously thought about sex
with her until the job offer.  "She'll be graduating soon," I replied. 
"Even if nothing happened, we'd draw apart anyway.  With this, at least..."
   Jeanie gave me a curious look as I trailed off, unable to find the right
words.  She fished out a handkerchief and began wiping her face first
before using it to clean my manhood.  "You like her." She said in a
matter-of-fact way.
   I could say nothing to that.  I wasn't sure myself of how I felt and I
didn't want any of these complex emotions to muddle the sheer lust that
possessed me.  That could wait until after I pulled out of Linda and left
her lying on my desk with blood and semen trailing down her thighs. 
"...I'll let you know how it turns out." I said, helping Jeanie up.
   "You'd better." She smiled and gave me a peck on the lips.  Jeanie then
proceeded to kick off her shoes as she walked over and sat down on top of
my desk.  While she began removing her pants and underwear, I took a seat
on my chair and watched as she spread her legs wide before me.  "I'm going
to be thinking about you two all day tomorrow," Jeanie said.
   Sliding two fingers slowly inside her moist folds, I looked into my
friend's eyes and smiled back.  As I went down on her bushy mound, the musk
of her arousal filling the air, I felt her fingers affectionately running
through my hair, or rather what was left of it.  "I'll be cheering for the
both of you..." Jeanie whispered.  Teasing her clit with my lips, I thought
it was an unusual thing to say at first; but it encouraged me.  I thanked
her with a wet flick of my tongue against her stiff bud and was rewarded
with a quiet moan.
   Knowing Jeanie was behind me, behind us, it gave me just a little hope
that tomorrow would not be the finale, but the start of a second act for me
and Linda.  As the sky gradually became ocher colored, Jeanie Beauman
arched her back and shuddered atop my desk, letting loose with a long moan.
Tomorrow, it would be Linda MacLaren's plump, pubescent body that would be
writhing on it.  I could hardly wait.
   
  
Teaching Linda