Written by exhibiguy

Fiction
22 Feb 2012


Chatting to someone about their memories of a sexy teacher brought back to mind some thoughts of my own teachers. I suppose it is inevitable that we have fantasies about some of our teachers – as we go through puberty, teachers are adults that are in our sight for extended periods of time. And in some cases, the teachers are attractive.

My memories focus on one of my high school teachers. Let’s call her Em – although, of course, we never got to call her that. Em was a slim blonde, average height, and probably in her early 30s. She had long hair, usually worn in a pony-tail. Our school was conservative, and the principal would have frowned on any of the lady teachers who wore short skirts or tight clothes. At first glance Em was always appropriately dressed – long dresses, never figure hugging. But after a few classes we learnt that there were hidden aspects to Em – mainly that she was a complete exhibitionist. Her tops were always loose fitting, and she never wore a bra underneath. As she walked we could see her breasts gently swaying, unrestrained by underwear or tight clothes. She had medium boobs, and the lack of a bra was not immediately obvious. When it did become obvious was when she marked our books – every few days she would go around the class, marking each person’s work individually. At each desk she would stop, bend low, and examine the books. Of course, in doing so her loose top would open enough for the person being marked to look in and see her complete boob – complete with nipple. I have lovely memories of her soft white breasts, with a light pink nipple, reminding me of a pale rose. There was no way she was not aware of the sight she was presenting – she seemed to take delight in asking us questions when it was obvious we were not concentrating on our work. She had one particular outfit, a green sundress, which allowed magnificent views as she bent down. And she almost always wore that dress on the days she marked our books – when we saw her walking to class wearing the dress, we knew we were in for a treat.

Like all the teachers in our school, Em wore a half-slip (petticoat) beneath her dress. Apparently it was part of the school dress code for the teachers. It seemed odd for her to wear it when she didn’t wear a bra, but in my mind I speculated on whether or not she wore panties beneath it.

Being a horny teenager in the old South Africa, a view of adult boobs was a rare thrill. Inevitably I’d end up sitting through her classes with a hard-on under the desk, and I wasn’t the only one. During break conversations some of the girls would complain about her, but secretly I think they envied the attention she got from the guys. No guys ever complained. Em was probably the subject of many fantasies – I’ll freely admit that many times she was in my mind as I stroked away. One night I was quietly stroking and thinking of her bending over, when I had a bizarre thought – how many other boys were doing the same, thinking of her. Imagine all the cum that was being squirted out with her in mind – I wonder if she thought of it, and if it gave her a warm feeling?

And what did I think of, laying there cock in hand, Em in my mind?

- It is just the two of us in her classroom – she’s wearing her green sundress. She bends over in front of me, the top opening enough for me to see her breast and nipple. I raise my eyes to hers, and say something like: “I like the view, but it’s in the shadows”. She smiles, and holds her top open wider. “Better?”, she asks. “It would be better without the dress”, I say. She stands up and slips off the dress. Underneath she has her half-slip on. She stands in front of me, hands at her side. I reach out and gently rub her nipples with the palms of my hands, feeling her nipples harden. I run my hands down her sides, and gently slide the petticoat down. Underneath she is naked, her neatly trimmed pussy dominating my view.

- Naked, she kneels in front of me. She reaches out and takes my hard cock in her hands. She leans forward, guides it into her mouth and starts sucking. I reach down, running my fingers over her head, taking her pony tail in my hands and guiding her head back and forth

- She has consented to pose for some pictures. Naturally she is naked. She faces the camera, legs spread wide, fingers spreading the lips of her pussy. I focus the camera, take some pictures. After a few photos I put the camera aside, lean in and start licking

- She has my cock in her mouth, I feel myself cumming. I warn her, but she makes no move to pull away. She holds my cock firmly between her lips as my cum jets in. As the spasms subside, she quietly swallows, and then smiles at me

I often wonder about her – Why did she do it? Did it turn her on? What was her sex life actually like? Where is she now?

It is so many years ago, but I often wonder how I would react if we were to meet again. Would I have the courage to ask the real questions? And would she still be in my fantasies if I saw her as she is today? Perhaps it is better if she stays in my fantasies as a slim, blonde girl with a delightful exhibitionist streak.


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