Chapter 2

The Motivated Student

Brenda Winter worked as a teacher's aide three days a week at the parochial school that was adjacent to, and affiliated with, the church she and Jonathan attended. She arrived that day (as she did every Monday, Wednesday and Friday) at 11:30, just as the students were breaking for lunch. This gave Brenda an opportunity to grade papers before their studies resumed.

Brenda sat alone in the dim, quiet, mahogany-trimmed classroom and waited for her favorite student's knock. She had plenty of papers to check, but was anxious to find out how Jimmy had fared on his geography test. Jimmy's geography teacher had confided in Brenda that the boy needed some encouragement in that area, and Brenda had promised to help.

A few months younger than Brenda, Jimmy had always been one grade behind her. The two had attended the same schools for years, but now, Brenda, the educator, was in a position of authority over this high-school senior. After years of calling each other Brenda and Jim, the two now knew each other as Mrs. Winter and Jimmy.

Brenda had been tutoring the restless student for weeks, and had promised him a special surprise if he passed the test with a "B" grade or higher. She was well-aware that all the agitated boy wanted was to sink his little dick into her, so Brenda was not the least bit doubtful that Jimmy would present her with the score she demanded of him.

And she knew it was possible that Jimmy had another significant motivator as well: If the rumors about this geography teacher were true, he was not above allowing his male students to "convince" him to raise their grades, and the method available to these failing students was a certain act which most heterosexual guys would tend to find... distasteful. In light of this rumor, Brenda was not at all surprised that Jimmy seemed to be studying hard to pass that particular class.

Jimmy knocked timidly, and Brenda waited a full twenty seconds before calling the schoolboy into the classroom.

"Lock the door, Jimmy," she demanded, without looking up from the papers she was pretending to examine. "You've come here either for a treat, or for a sound thrashing, depending on the grade at the top of that paper in your hands... so we're going to want some privacy, regardless of your performance on the geography test."

Jimmy held the test paper up for Brenda to see, also revealing the bulge in the front of his corduroy trousers. He smiled, proud that he would soon be having his way with this stunningly-beautiful slut, and said, "You helped me get that, Mrs. Winter."

Brenda saw what Jimmy was referring to: the "A+" grade at the top of his geography test. But Brenda also noticed the student's excited hardon pressing stubbornly in his pants, and she roughly flicked the bulge with the tips of her index and middle fingers, deriding him:

"Did I help you get this, too, Jimmy?"

Brenda stood up, took Jimmy by the hand and led him behind the teacher's desk, between her swivel chair and the blackboard. "Pull your pants down, Jimmy," she instructed the pupil, lying down on her back on the cool, hard, dusty floor.

Jimmy did as he was told while Brenda unbuttoned her blouse and hiked her tight skirt up around her hips, revealing her white bra and panties.

"The undershorts too, Jimmy," Brenda admonished the student, her sing-song tone of voice both reproachful and encouraging. Jimmy pulled them down around his ankles while Brenda slid her silk panties off and tossed them into a corner.

Jimmy's fully-inflated penis was only four inches long, and much too thin for Brenda's tastes, but what could she expect? She had promised this virgin a fun, entertaining fuck - not if his hardon was big enough for her, but if he performed well on his geography test - and Brenda was determined to follow through on her promise, even if it meant being frantically poked like some sort of over-inflated sex doll!

"Climb on, Jimmy, and let's get going," she whispered.

Jimmy got on top of his sexy tutor, grabbed a bra-bound breast in each of his smooth, young hands, slid effortlessly into her and began pumping Brenda's pussy with his desperate little dick.

"Ugh... ugh... ugh... ugh..." Brenda grunted, a little disgusted with herself, as the boy slickly jabbed away inside of her. Jimmy's small cock slid in and out with piston-like precision as he masturbated himself with the sopping twat of the cushiony young lady beneath him.

Brenda hiked the heels of her pumps up to her rear end and rammed against her flopping male toy, relieving the poor thing of some of the effort. "My, my, Jimmy, you're really good at this!" she lied generously, smiling up at his shocked, exasperated face.

"C'mon, you horny bastard - fuck... fuck... FUCK!" She gripped him by the hips and helped him pump her, working and fucking and grunting, knowing the whole time that there was no way in hell she was going to get to have an orgasm with this punk.

"Mrs. Winter..." Jimmy began, wheezing and choking as he tried to figure out what was happening to him.

"Yes, Jimmy?" Brenda replied calmly, patiently, even though she knew full well what the problem was.

"Mrs. Winter, something's wrong!"

"You're doing it, Jimmy," she explained. "This is how it's supposed to feel at the end... the very end!"

"I need to stop," he claimed, panicked and out of breath.

"No. You need to go," Brenda insisted, smacking him repeatedly on his bare ass with her open palm. "Go... faster... you'll see!"

"Sonofabitch," the boy whispered, looking dreamily into Brenda's eyes, right before his own eyes crossed. Still holding onto the boobs of his seemingly-indefatigable fuck-bitch, he rammed her just as hard and fast as he was able.

Brenda felt Jimmy's penis begin to thicken slightly, and she could tell that he was dangerously close to spurting inside of her.

This would be completely unacceptable. She certainly couldn't have the boy gobbing-off his gooey little strands of fuck-cream inside her married quim!

Brenda skillfully pulled his spitting dick out of her hot, frustrated twat with her left hand, then quickly jacked him off into her cupped right palm. "Hold still, Jimmy; give it all to me," she coached, and soon her palm held a decent amount of the slippery white semen.

Brenda sat up. With Jimmy kneeling between her legs, staring, sweating, breathless and unable to believe what he was seeing, Brenda lifted her hand to her mouth and began lapping the load like a kitten. When she had ingested about half his wad, she licked her lips, held her open palm up to Jimmy's face and asked: "Want some?"

"Uh, gee, Mrs. Winter, thanks a lot anyway..." So Brenda finished her sticky treat all by herself.

As the two dressed, Brenda asked casually: "So, Jimmy, what was caused by the collision of the Indo-Australian and Eurasian plates, fifty million years ago?"

"Uh - I don't know. Why?"

"Tell me what the effects of Asia's monsoons are, Jimmy."

"Hmmm," he replied. "I'm not sure."

"Try this one: In what types of Asian vegetation regions does nomadic herding take place?"

"Wait - I know that," Jimmy lied.

Brenda sighed as she tucked in her blouse. "Jimmy."

"Yeah?"

"You answered all those questions correctly on a test you just finished taking this morning! I promised your geography instructor I would motivate you to learn the material, yet you haven't retained a bit of it. Are you sure you earned that A+, Jimmy?"

"Yes," he said weakly.

"I see."

What Brenda could see was that her pupil was having trouble looking her in the eyes, and that she had just thrown him an excellent fuck for nothing.

She sat down and returned her attention to the papers on the desk. "Well, that was kind of fun, Jimmy," the freshly-tousled brunette announced, purposely employing her most dismissive tone of voice as she kept her eyes on the work in front of her. "We should do it again sometime."

"Sure, Mrs. Winter! When?"

"Oh, I don't know," Brenda answered casually. "I guess the next time you suck off your geography teacher in exchange for one of his meaningless, artificially-high test scores... you double-crossing, faggoty little fuckface!"

Jimmy grinned sheepishly, then hurried out of the room.

The Sleazy Headmaster

Brenda finished grading the papers just as the bell rang, then stood up and began brushing the dust off the back of her blouse and skirt.

The intercom on the wall clicked on, and a male voice said, "Mrs. Winter, could you come to my office, please?"

Bob, Brenda thought, a little agitated. "I'll be right there, Mr. Kronick," she called to the box on the wall.

The voice belonged to Bob Kronick, the school's headmaster. Bob was eight years older than Brenda, and he had been her older brother's best friend for as long as she could remember. When they were children, Bob was over at their house several times a month, and it was an effort for Brenda to pretend to like him. She did so for the benefit of her older brother, with whom Brenda had always been especially close, but she had always secretly despised Bob... probably because he was a conceited, self-important ass who was not as good-looking, as smart or as witty as he thought he was.

Unfortunately for Brenda, the old headmaster retired a week after Brenda took this part-time job as a teacher's assistant, and guess who was hired to replace him? Bob. The worst part of the situation was, and always had been, that Bob had no clue that Brenda didn't like him! (If there was one thing Brenda would change about herself if she could, it was her inability to be uncivil toward those for whom she had no respect. But Bob's mere presence as headmaster drove Brenda a little bit nuts, since he was now her boss, and she no longer had the luxury of being rude to him... even if she could have mustered the courage to do so.)

As if that were not bad enough, Bob acted as if he thought she adored him! Brenda was, at times, so troubled by the situation that she had once considered seeking counseling in order to improve her self-esteem, but, unfortunately, the only psychologist in this small town was a golf buddy of both her older brother and Jonathan, and Brenda knew how men could be.

So she just tolerated Bob.

"Hi, Brenda," he said with a grin as she entered his office. Bob directed her to sit down, offered her a cookie (which she accepted, hating herself for doing so), folded his hands on the desktop and smiled sweetly.

"So how's my girl?" he asked in a smarmy tone of voice.

"What do you need, Bob?" Brenda countered evenly, ignoring his question as she crunched on her cookie.

"Well, Brenda, we have these random evaluations that we write up on our staff members every so often." Bob produced a sheet of paper with questions and boxes used to check the educators' performances. "We like to be sure our teachers are putting out their best efforts, if you know what I mean."

Bob leered at the tight-lipped girl.

"Okay, shoot," Brenda said.

"Oh, I will," Bob assured his subordinate with a chuckle. "Pretty soon. I'm convinced your performance will be sure to culminate in that!"