Smoking with Miss Franks

(Ma/Fa, Consensual, Teacher/Student, Oral, Pot Smoking)

Miss Abigale Franks was pleasant enough looking, even though she wore glasses and didn’t seem to have much in the chest department. Her reddish-brown hair was always pulled back into a ponytail or a braid. Although she is young and single, the guys don’t pay her the same attention they do Mrs. Barbieri, the French and Spanish teacher. Mrs. Claire Barbieri was the hot teacher. No one would be surprised that most of the guys and a couple of girls in her class are masturbating to fantasies about her.

Although Miss Franks wasn’t a popular fantasy with the schoolboys, Roger Cummings admired Miss Franks. He thought she was nice and a great teacher. Roger always enjoyed her class. He found her written remarks on his papers to be fair and enlightening.

At a Friday night school dance, Roger got to know Miss Franks a little better. Roger had gone outside and went around the back of the building. He took a joint out of his shirt pocket and lit it up. He had just taken a couple of drags when he heard, “I thought I could smell skunk weed.”

Roger’s head snapped around. It was Miss Franks. Roger started to flip the joint away when she said, “Don’t waste it. Give it here.”

Roger handed her the joint, thinking she would use it as evidence, and he was in trouble. To Roger’s surprise, she took a drag, closed her eyes and held it in her lungs for a moment before exhaling. She handed it back to him, “Don’t worry, Roger, I’m not going to report you. After all, it is legal now.”

“Yeah, but they still frown on it on school grounds.” Roger took a drag before handing the joint back to Miss Franks.

They shared the joint three more times before Miss Franks said, “See ya, Roger,” and walked away.

Miss Franks was not the prettiest teacher, but right now, as far as Roger was concerned, she was the coolest.

The weekend went by quickly. Roger attended Miss Franks’ class and expected some acknowledgment that she had smoked pot with him: a smile, a wink, a greeting. But there was none.

It was a little after 9:00 on Friday night at the high school dance. Roger had just escorted Polly Banner back to her friends when he spotted Miss Franks looking right at him. She nodded toward the exit. Roger nodded to let her know he had gotten the message. Roger headed for the exit. When he got outside, he went around to the back of the building and waited. Five minutes later, Miss Franks came around the corner. When she was standing next to Roger, she opened her purse, which she wore with the strap over her left shoulder, with the purse on her right hip. She took a joint out of a plastic sandwich bag and lit it. She took a drag and handed it to Roger.

“So what do you think, Roger?”

“It’s better than the stuff I was smoking.” Roger took another drag and handed the joint back to her.

“It’s hard to get good stuff on the street. It’s all going to the dispensaries now. I have a supplier that doesn’t mind sharing some of the good stuff he brings in from California before it goes to the dispensaries.”

They quietly leaned against the building, sharing the joint. When Miss Franks dropped the roach and stepped on it, they headed back to the dance.

Just as they rounded the corner of the building, Miss Franks said, “Whoa, I have a pretty good buzz on. Maybe I shouldn’t go back in. Do you want to go for a ride? I have a couple more.”

Roger hesitated. He wasn’t sure what he was getting into. Teachers don’t smoke joints with students, and they certainly don’t ask them to go for a ride. “Won’t they miss you if you leave?”

“I’ll just tell them I went home sick.” Miss Franks stopped walking toward the parking lot and turned to Roger, “You coming or not?”

Not having any real reason for going back to the dance, he decided he wouldn’t mind another taste of free weed. “Yeah, sure.”

“Okay then.”

Roger followed her to the parking lot and got in her Toyota RAV4. She drove for about twenty minutes before turning off the main road onto a dirt road that led to a farmhouse. The lights were on. Five other cars were parked out front.

“Come on, Roger, it will be fun.”

They went in without knocking. Music was playing, and there was a distinct smell of weed. As soon as Miss Franks walked in, she was greeted with, “Hey, Abby, it’s about time you showed up. Who’s the guy?” That was Roger’s first indication that Miss Franks had a first name.

“School function, I couldn’t get out of. This is Roger. He’s with me.”

“Well, glad you could make it.”

Abby lit a joint and handed it to Roger. She introduced Roger to the four men and four women attending the party. There was beer and wine set out on a table with snacks. Roger didn’t see any hard liquor. The other guests were all about Abby’s age, mid to late twenties. As Roger was to learn as the night wore on, these were not just a bunch of potheads. There were four teachers, a med student, two engineers, and an accountant.

Two couples were dancing when Bill, the med student, asked Abby to dance. She returned the joint they had been sharing to Roger, walked over to the middle of the living room with Bill, and started dancing to a ballad. Much to Roger’s surprise, Bill had his hands on Abby’s ass, and she didn’t seem to mind. She kept her arms around his neck as they danced and talked.