Author: Ramo Kye
Work kept me from going into college after high school. The scramble for rent money, groceries, internet access and all the other necessities kept me postponing higher education for years – until I was a man witnessing the last of his twenties.
That’s when I decided to hit night school in pursuit of a degree. I had to take all the basic courses. Worse, I had to get back into the whole learning swing of things. I took algebra again, a refresher course in English and a critical-thinking class. I turned out to be a decent student with a solid B average.
We were heading into spring when I decided to take an American History class. The class would become my favorite yet. Even better than 3rd grade art. And not because of the instruction, but because of the teacher.
She preferred to be called Ms. Plante. She was probably my age, but looked much younger. In fact, of all the class’s students, she looked the youngest and I was sure that it was a constant embarrassment for her. She was a brunette with blonde bangs. Her eyes were round, almost cartoonish, as though she were in a constant state of surprise. She had a petite shape, small breasts, and a tight little ass that made the men in the class moan every time she turned to draw on the blackboard. She always dressed smartly, with either a white or light blue top and black slacks or a black mini-skirt.
The mini-skirt evenings with Ms. Plante were the ones I most looked forward to.
I was the oldest student in the class, and the most mature as well. The rest seemed to think college was simply an extension of high-school drinking parties. This frustrated Ms. Plante to no end, as few of them did the homework and class assignments on time. It became common banter when she would ask the class a question that we all should have known, to have all of them but me start to cough and turn their eyes away. In the end, she would smile at me and say, “Mr. Ross, do you have the answer?”
I almost always knew. The other students began to shun me. Jealous little bastards.
It was a Thursday night, just beyond mid-terms, when Ms. Plante gave us a little break, spending most of the class time on a slide presentation of the Civil War. Ms. Plante look particularly superb that night, dressed in a tight, light blue, button up sweater and a black suede mini-skirt, no nylons. She didn’t need any. She ended the class forty minutes early, giving us an extra reading assignment to make up for it.
As the other students rushed to the door, I ambled over to the teacher. She was busily gathering together her paperwork and the slide projector. It looked like far too much for her to handle in one trip.
“Can I help?” The last student out of the room heard me, and snickered like I was some kiss-ass teacher’s pet. Which, I guess, I was.
“Would you Mr. Ross? It took me two trips to bring all this in from my car.”
We worked together gathering her items, me taking the heavier load. After locking up the classroom, we walked past the convenient teachers’ parking area to her car. She was parked in back of the school buildings, and though a longer walk, it would be shady during the day. It was darker at night as well, with half the street lamps broken. As we’d let out earlier than the other classes, we were the only ones around. She’d parked at the edge of the lot, by a thick strand of tress that separated the area from a highway.
Her car fit her well. A twenty plus-year-old, two seater, piss yellow Triumph. As sleek and slim as she was, though I’m sure the engine was louder than her she could ever be. She placed her load on the hood, then moved back to the car’s trunk which faced the trees. Popping the back open, she offered to take the things I was carrying. I moved to retrieve the items on the hood and handed those to her as well.
The trunk was small, already had neat piles of material inside which she had to shift around to get everything to fit. I watched as her skirt rode up on her, exposing a pair of light blue panties that matched her sweater. I didn’t tire of the view, but I could tell she was getting frustrated by the work.
“Here, let me do that,” I offered. She promptly backed away and I moved in, quickly fitting the items together like a 3-D jigsaw puzzle. Done, but still bent over, I felt her hand on my ass. I straightened up and closed the trunk and she kept her hand motionless as I turned to face her, allowing her fingernails to gently brush my cock through the cloth. Her eyes were as I’d never seen them before, dreamy slits. She began rubbing my cock to hardness as our lips met and played.
For weeks I’d wondered what her nipples looked like and I hastily, almost clumsily, began to unbutton her sweater while she worked on my belt and fly. Now exposed, I pulled her white bra up and over her small breasts. Her nipples, hard, were surrounded by a dark ring that took up fully half of her breast. My fingers moved to knead and grip them as my pants dropped and she grasped my hard-on through my underwear.
I spun Ms. Plante around and easily lifted her ass onto the trunk. I helped her drop my underpants and she quickly grabbed onto my erection. Using some of my pre-cum for lubricant, she rubbed my cock into her thigh. I hoisted her skirt and sent a finger in to explore her crevice. Slipping her panties to the side, I found her pubic hair and clit already moist. I doubled over as my dick started squirting hot sperm onto her leg. The powerful orgasm causing my thighs and stomach to cramp.
We kissed again as I took her panties by the sides and pulled them off of her with several uneven tugs. As she grabbed my ears and brought her spread heels up to rest on the car trunk, I moved my tongue down to taste her sweet pussy. She was tight, even for my tongue, and shook with each flick. I found her clitoris and gently stabbed at it until she gasped and shuddered in breathless orgasm.
Before the waves had subsided she was begging me to act again, “You have to fuck me, Mr. Ross.” Her words came as a prodding whisper, “You have to fuck me quick, before the other classes let out.”
I stood up and looked around. Lights in the school building were flicking off and, in the distance, I could hear adult talk. We both were pleased to see that my staff was ready for her. I grabbed under her thighs as her body squealed down against the hard metal of the car, her pussy landing on the tip of me.
Though she was moist and slippery, she was still too tight for me to enter easily. We ground against each other, hastily trying to complete the act before we could be caught. Finally, as I spread her thighs to the sides, I thrust hard and stuffed myself into her. She half-gasped as her mouth opened wide and stay that way, only allowing small pants to escape as I withdrew and thrust into her again. And again.
She came before I did, and the orgasm continued until I saw tall shadows dancing across the parking lot toward us. I knew that, if I wanted to mark this tight little teacher, it would have to be now. A final thrust, and I was sending streams of semen into her as she sobbed, “Mr. Ross… Mr. Ross…” over and over again.
We were dressed before anyone could see us. I think. Then we moved the party to her place. Eventually, I got an A in her class. Though she scored even higher as a fuck mate