Part 1

It was an early spring day in Maine. Ms. Malone, my English teacher, had just completed her lecture on contemporary American literature. Throughout her talk, all I could see were her boobs bouncing up and down inside her blouse. I tried, but failed, to decide whether they were enclosed in a bra or not. Sometimes they appeared to act independently, other times they appeared to work in tandem. The indecision did not really matter -- regardless of what contained them, they looked great from my seat. Every move she made added to my growing imagination of what I would like to do to her. Not only her tits, but her ass -- how it flowed beneath her dress. And that slight hump just above her crotch, promising delights beyond my imagination if only they would all be exposed. But I was only 15, and she must have been 27. There would never be such a chance.

The period bell ended my imagination. Class was over, and another day ended. Scrambling to pull myself back to reality, I knocked over the books on my desk. By the time I had picked them all up, I was the last to leave the classroom. Ms. Malone, looking at me in a strange manner, drifted over to my desk.

"I noticed how engrossed you were in my lecture today, Steve," she said. "Mind sharing with me what was so fascinating?" As she said this, she seated her self lightly on the top of the desk next to mine. There was just the hint of a smile on her lips as she waited for my answer.

I didn't have a clue as to what she was talking about during class. All of my attention had been on her body, taking in every move and greedily soaking up every hint of the body under her dress.

"It was the, aw, the great way in which you presented today's material," I stammered. "Your presentation, your organization of the study material just bowled me over."

"You sure it wasn't something else? All semester I've noticed how much attention you pay to my lectures, yet you barely pass your tests. And today, well, today I was sure something else was on your mind." As she said this, her hand moved her dress upward, dragging its edge just over her knee and revealing a little of her lower thigh. "Are you sure that something else wasn't on your mind, like this?"

With that statement, her hand moved upward very quickly, lifting her dress clear off her legs and revealing a glimpse of her entire leg, all the way up to her panties. As quickly as she had lifted her dress, she dropped it back again.

I could feel my face flush over with excitement and embarrassment. Here was what I had been dreaming about, happening right in the classroom! "Well, ugh, I guess you sort of found out about my secret. I was watching your body, not listening to your lecture."

Ms. Malone smiled. I noticed that her face had a curious glow about it, as if she, too, had been thinking about something.

"What about my body were you watching so closely that you could not remember my lecture, " she teasingly asked.

"Well, to be honest, all of you. Your boobs, your ass, everything. I'd watch your movements, and think about what you looked like if you were undressed. I concentrated so much on your body that I can't remember a thing that you talked about in your lecture," I blurted.

Not knowing what else to say but the truth, I continued. "As you would walk, or move your arms, I could see your dress stretch against one part of your body, then another. Each time some new part of your body would be exposed, and that would even more to my daydreams."

"Stay right where you are!," she said sharply. "I think you need a lesson in manners, young man." With that said, she got up, walked straight to the door, locked it and pulled down the shade.

Walking back to the middle of the room and stopping where she normally would give her lectures, she turned and looked me straight in the face. "Come up here, sit in the first seat right in front of me," she commanded.

I quickly moved to the front desk and sat down. What else could I do? I knew that I'd said enough to get me into a lot of trouble.

"Ms. Malone, I didn't mean to get you angry! You asked me what I was thinking about, and I told you! Please, if you won't say anything to anyone about this, I promise not to stare anymore."

"This has gotten far out of hand, young man. It cannot go on any longer. We're both going to work this out now, today. When I get through with you, you'll not fantasize any longer!." With that, she moved closer to my desk.

"I think it's about time that you were taught a few lessons in life. And I'm going to teach you." She lifted one leg and placed her foot on the top of my desk. She pulled her skirt back, almost to her waist, exposing again her leg all the way up to her panties.

"These," she said, as her hands lightly moved over her leg, "are nylons. They are held up by this, a garter belt. Now -- watch closely -- they are removed first by undoing this clip. Then you gently roll the tops down, like this, until they are down around the knee. At that point, you grasp the rolled top in both hands and pull the nylon off, like this." Deftly, she removed the nylon from the rest of her leg, leaving it dangling over her shoe.

"Please, take my shoe off and remove the nylon from my foot," she commanded. I did exactly what she requested. My heart was throbbing so hard, I thought it would explode. This was the first time I had ever seen a woman remove her nylons in person. And it excited me, all over. I could feel my dick starting to swell and put pressure on my pants.

She switched legs, exposing the leg with the remaining nylon on it. "Now, let's see if you learned your lesson. I want you to remove this nylon from my leg without tearing it."

I stretched over and took hold of her garter belt. My hands were so shaky that I had a hard time taking hold of the clasp on the garter belt. When my fingers touched her thigh, all I could feel was the silky smoothness of her leg. She placed her hand gently on top of mine and said, "Easy now, don't get nervous. Just take your time. We have all night. Remember, be gentle and don't put a run in the nylon."

I finally released the nylon from the garter belt, rolled it exactly as she had demonstrated, then pulled it down her leg. My hands tingled every time they touched her leg. I took her other shoe off, and removed the second nylon completely.

"That was excellent!," she exclaimed. "You've earned yourself some extra credit." With that, she moved over to the side of my desk, turning so her back was to me and undoing her belt on her waist. Bending down slightly, she directed me in my next task.

"Now, take the zipper and pull it down to my waist." I did as she asked. Turning back to me, she next told me, "Stand up and put your arms around me. Take the tops of my dress, and slide them off my shoulders."

I stood up and put my arms around her. As I did that, I could feel her tits dig lightly into my chest. Did they feel good! I pulled the dress off her shoulders and held it as she removed her arms from the dress.

"Pull the dress down over my hips, then let it fall to the floor," was my next instruction. I did it exactly as described, and was rewarded with a full frontal view of her bra, tummy and panties. My gauze locked onto her boobs, switching from one to the other. I took in every detail, from the full shape of her boobs which were just barely contained by the cups on her bra to the two tits trying so hard to stick out through the shear material encasing them. I moved my eyes downward, glancing at her smooth, flat tummy, and noticing the little white hairs, just barely visible, which ever so lightly covered her stomach around her navel.

I stopped the downward movement of my stare when I reached her panties. More specifically, when I got to her crotch. I could see her cunt hair pushing up against the very thin panty material, curly and dark. On both sides of her panties, close to the tip of her clit, I saw that several black hairs had escaped the elastic of the panties, and were exposed directly to my view.

Before I could look anymore, she stepped out of her dress. As her legs moved, I watched in extreme fascination as her panties rubbed against her crotch, and noticed that, right between her legs, there was a wet spot which seemed to grow as I watched. My own love tool was now throbbing against my pants.