Oh...sarahhh

by

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Teenagers, Consensual, Coercion, Heterosexual, Slut Wife, Wimp Husband, Cuckold, Pregnancy, Cream Pie, Size, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: This story tells the tale of a frustrated young wife and teacher who discovers a long unsuspected sexual hunger in herself that her much older husband can't begin to satisfy. She revels when she becomes the sex slave of a big cocked student from the wrong side of the tracks. Will hubby accept his status as cuckold and be willing to raise another man's baby as his son? Will he accept it when other men threaten to take her?



"Aha, so you're the lucky one," I heard coming from above me.

"Lucky?" I asked, looking up at a smiling thirty something year old woman standing at my elbow.

"Hi, I'm Jill, Jill Cliburn," the woman announced, "English Department... you must be Mrs. Fisher."

"Sarah," I offered.

"Sorry I missed you the other day, I couldn't make the staff meeting," Jill answered.

It was the first day of classes at Hillary Clinton High in Daytona Beach, Florida and I, and many of my new colleagues, were sitting in the staff common room having a coffee after second period.

"Sit, please," I invited.

"Thanks," and then after settling down next to me asked, "Is this your first year teaching?"

"No, Bruno and I, Bruno's my husband... we lived in Syracuse... that's where I went to university. Anyway, I taught the last two years up there."

"Tired of the snow?" Jill asked as another two teachers I'd met earlier sat down at the table.

"No... well, yes of course... but the real reason was Bruno got transferred and..." The four of us continued to talk about the school and the city for minutes before I remembered Jill's original question.

"Why am I lucky anyway?"

"I hear you've got 'The Angel' in your homeroom."

"She does?" the other two asked, clearly interested.

I knew immediately who she meant but still asked, "Angel?" He'd been sitting in the second row next to the window when I'd entered my class at eight forty-five that morning. He was a young god.

"Tall... Long curly blond hair... Beautiful blue eyes... muscles... looks like a prince," Jill enthused. "You get wet about two seconds after seeing him."

"The gorgeous hunk?" I asked. Seeing the three teachers nod I added, "I thought when he introduced himself he was pulling my leg. About his name. He's..."

"He's perfect," Jill finished as the other two nodded their agreement. "And he's finally eighteen now. The thoughts we all have about him are now perfectly legal," she said with a laugh, looking at the other two at the table knowingly.

Months later I wondered whether, if Jill hadn't said what she said next, things wouldn't have turned out differently. But she did say those words.

"Apparently he's hung like a horse too," Jill said with a grin and immediately the image burned itself into my brain — this extraordinarily handsome god-like boy-man walking toward me naked, his thick, long appendage waving proudly in front of him, eager to fill me.

"He's also the smartest guy in math in the school, right up your alley," one of the other two added.

"Math?" I asked as I tried to clear the erotic image from my brain.

"He wrote his math SAT's last year, aced them all," the one called Abbey said.

"In his junior year?"

"Your predecessor, Bob Williams, couldn't keep up with him," the other, Nancy added. "He's like a genius or something. Computers too. Our young god apparently ignored poor Bob all year."

"And what about his..." I started shyly.

"His penis? It's famous," Abbey said laughing.

"The biggest in the school," Jill added, "at least according to our sources. Has been since he was a freshman."

Many people might think that school teachers only talk about academics and other serious topics, but I'd learned in my previous two years that the reality was that we were the biggest gossips in the world.

The goings on of their teenage charges seemed to provide the average high school teacher with a continuing vicarious entertainment that they couldn't stop talking and speculating about. The latest romances, who was sleeping with whom, drug usage, who was cute, who a slut, who they'd like to try, all that and more were the main topics of conversation when we met.

So I wasn't surprised at the gossip my tablemates continued to provide. Over the next ten minutes I got the condensed life story of the student everyone called simply 'The Angel'.

'Best math and science student in school'

'Biggest prick'

'Computer genius'

'Lives in the trailer park across the tracks (the one poor area in our affluent district)'

'Mother dead, an ex-prostitute or crack-head or both'

'Best dressed'

"A loner'

'Father in and out of jail, a gang biker'

'All the cheerleaders wanted him (but none had him?)'

'Worked as a male prostitute'

'Has a motorcycle'

'No one can figure where his money comes from — sells his body?'

"You three are terrible," I finally said as I interrupted the litany of information coming from the three.

"Some of it must be true," Jill said laughing. "But he is a mystery and it's going to be up to you to help resolve some of our questions."


There were only eight students in my introductory calculus class the last period of the day; it was an elective that all but the most serious math student avoided like the plague. My 'angel' of course was there!

His real name was Johnny Angel, and it turned out Mr. Angel didn't think he needed much help from a new and young teacher, especially a female one. He basicly spent his Calculus class and my seminars on advanced math and computer programming in the days that followed reading while ignoring everything that was going on around him.

"Mr. Angel," I finally shouted out at the end of my late day class the second week of the term as he trudged out the door.

"Miss?" he asked as he turned and looked at me as he hovered at the door.

"My name is Mrs. Fisher," I said somewhat crossly as I signaled him to return inside.

"Yes ma'am?" he said as he stood bouncing from foot to foot halfway to my desk.

"Please... sit," I instructed.

"Something wrong?" he asked when he'd finally sat, his eyes darting every two seconds to his watch.

"You don't seem to be willing to contribute to the class," I started, beginning to get pissed off at this little prima donna, even if he was the most handsome boy in school and had the biggest prick.

"I'm too advanced for this Miss... they told me... Mr. Williams, last year... he told me just to sit in class and do my own work. Not to bother the others. You probably wouldn't understand this..." he said, his voice trailing off as he noticed the anger growing behind my eyes.

"Let me see your book," I ordered as I pulled the text from his hands.

"But Miss, you won't understand."

"Do this problem for me," I said after opening the book near the back and finding a page of problems. "On the board."

"It's not like adding two and two," he almost whined when I handed him the chalk. "I haven't really got this far, its..."

"Do your best, everyone says you're the genius," I ordered.

For an hour and a half he worked, at first sullenly, but then as he got engrossed, as he started to recognize I understood what was going on, he became visibly happy, almost voluble as we discussed possible solutions back and forth.

"You're not like Mr. Williams ma'am," he said happily after we'd combined to find a somewhat acceptable approach to solving the problem.

"Can we do this again," he asked eagerly.

"Yes," I said smiling, elated I'd found a student with as much ability and interest as I in math. "But."

"But what?" he said interrupting.

"But I want you to be a more positive influence in class, contribute, help, teach... just because you're smarter than everyone doesn't mean you can't..."

"Okay, okay... now when can we get together again... tomorrow?"

"No, tomorrows Friday... Bruno and I, he's my husband, we have a dinner party"

"You're married?"

"That's why I'm called Mrs. Fisher," I said grinning at this handsome, excited teen in front of me.

"Oh... Well, can't you cancel this dinner?"

God, I was so tempted to say yes but simply nodded no.

"Saturday then?"

"It's the weekend. Don't you have things to do?"

"No."

"Well, maybe Saturday afternoon... I think Bruno's going fishing."

"Noon? What's your address?"

I gave it without even thinking, swept off my feet by his exuberant energy. Then he kissed me when I went to hand him the slip of paper, simply stepped into me and quickly brought his lips to mine, let me feel his moist tongue before he stepped back.

"Thanks ma'am," he said with a cocky little grin on his face.

"You're not supposed to kiss your teacher," I finally sputtered out seconds later, trying to sound officious even as I tried to recover from my surprise.

"Mr. Williams liked it," he answered back sassily, his teenage male arrogance all of a sudden in full view.

"So you're gay," I teased, not willing to let him walk all over me even if I was still shaking.

"Sure... that's why I find you so cute," he teased back. "Yeah, you're built sooo like a boy," he added as he pulled me against him, crushing my full, firm breasts against his hard chest.

"Johnnnnnny!" I cried as my eyes rushed to check the door.

"What's your name?"

"Sarahhh," I whispered as I felt him harden against my stomach. God, the girls hadn't lied about that. It was huge.

He kissed me again quickly on the lips, then released me, then as he moved towards the door, turned and simply said, "Thanks, I'll see you Saturday."

I trembled all the way home.


"Where've you been hon?" Bruno asked when I finally stumbled through the door at six fifteen.

"I had some work after school. I..."

"What's for dinner?"

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