Chapter 1

"Mr. Walker!"

The voice of my English teacher caught me off guard. I was basically a shy guy, still not used to this high school stuff, and I tried to stay out of the limelight. Since my mom had moved into my grandparents' house following my grandmother's death, I had been forced to transfer from the all-boys military prep school I had attended to this public high school for my sophomore year. Now on Monday of my second week in school, this sounded like I was in some kind of trouble.

"Mr. Walker! That sort of prank will not be tolerated in this school. Come here, Mr. Walker!"

I turned to verify that she was talking to me, hoping that there was another Walker in the class but knowing that it wasn't so. Sure enough she was looking right at me. Slowly I headed up the aisle as the other students scrambled to their seats.

This teacher was, without a doubt, the most voluptuous, the sexiest woman I had ever in my life seen, including women on the silver screen at the local Metroplex. I didn't think she was yet thirty, she had flaming red hair, but she had a pair of world-class melons on her chest. Not that you could see them. She always wore dresses or blouses that buttoned right up to her neck. And while her skirts were hemmed above her knee, they were just fashionable and not high enough to show all that much. However the mere sight of her gave me, a pimply-faced sixteen year old, a hard-on every time. Every day I walked into her class, I had to walk with my book bag in front of me to hide my condition. It was to my dismay that I had forgotten this day.

Although I had gotten to my seat before I heard her call my name, I hadn't put my bag down and now I held it in front of me. I couldn't keep my eyes off her chest and my cock remained rock hard. I knew it was outlined where it lay at a left-pointed diagonal in my jeans.

I stopped a few feet from her as she stood in front of her desk. Her countenance was stern as she stared at my eyes with determination.

"It is neither funny nor right to make fun of any one's physical condition, Mr. Walker. And to mock the females of this class so blatantly as you have this afternoon is not only disrespectful, it is downright criminal. Do you understand?"

I had no idea what I had done wrong. I hadn't said anything or done anything... except what my body did that my mind couldn't seem to control.

"N... No, ma'am" I stuttered.

"I mean this, Mr. Walker."

Swiftly she strode to me, pushed my book bag aside and yanked my shirt up out of my jeans. She was still talking when she grabbed my prick.

"Stuffing socks into your pants to mock a woman is... is... uh... oh, Mr. Walker, I'm sorry." She immediately blushed a bright red all over.

Hastily she tried to pull my shirt back together but the two lower buttons had popped off. She tried stuffing the tail of my shirt into my jeans but it just wouldn't contain my member. Maybe the fact that the upper three inches were above my belt line and rested just above my navel made it hard for the shirt to conceal my condition. I looked at Mrs. Stanton and realized that she was now completely embarrassed by what she had done to me.

There were giggles and guffaws and whistles from all over the classroom. I pulled my shirt together, covered my middle with the book bag again and hurried back to my seat. I got propositions from several girls and lots of laughs from the guys, although I thought some of them looked enviously at me.

I sat down and tried to pull my clothes back together. Megan Styles, sitting across the aisle, waved two safety pins in the air. When Mrs. Stanton nodded, Megan knelt in front of me and pinned my shirt together but I noticed her fingers seemed to dawdle as they touched my implement. Or was it my imagination?

I thanked Megan for her help and tried to turn my attention to class work. If I let my mind think about Megan, who was a budding beauty in her own right, I'd never get rid of this hard-on. Mrs. Stanton shushed the class and said that she was sorry for having made a judgement call and that was the reason why people should not judge others on looks but what was inside them.

That brought laughs from several of the guys and I heard someone mutter, "Yeah, she'd like to have that inside her," followed by more laughs.

That fifty minutes was the slowest period of the day. When the bell rang ending my school day, I was deliberately slow packing up my bag so the others would leave and let me go in peace.

Megan rose and turning to me said "Hey, Kevin, if you'd like to get together to study sometime, let me know."

I smiled and nodded.

I was the last one to leave and tried to tiptoe out of the room but heard, "Kevin?"

I looked up to see Mrs. Stanton closing the door and beckoning to me. She moved back to her desk and sat on the edge. "Kevin, I am so sorry for what I did today. I thought... well, I thought you were making fun of me."

"No, ma'am. I would never do that. I just can't help... well, I'm sorry but I just can't help what happens to me when I come into your room."

"Will you forgive me?"

"Yes, ma'am. I... well, there is one thing."

"Yes?"

"Well, you've seen mine. I think it would only be right if you show me yours."

Her eyes widened. "Kevin! I'm a married woman! You think I should show my private parts to a man who is not my husband?"

"Well... you did put your hands on my private parts... ?!?"

She sat there seeming to contemplate my condition, licking her lips. Finally she said "Yes. Yes, I did. And I can see your point. I suppose turn about is fair play. Only... I didn't get to see it all. If I show you mine, you have to show me all of yours. Do you still want to play that way?"

I smiled. "Yes, ma'am."

"If you ever... EVER... tell anyone else that we did this, I will make sure everyone believes you are a liar. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

I put down my book bag and unfastened my belt and jeans, pulled up my shirt and pulled down my jockeys. My dong sprang out, grateful to be free, thrusting its head up and out eleven inches. I had no experience reading the expression on her face but lust was the word that came to mind. She stared at it, up and down, checked out my scrotum and then back up my shaft.

Finally she looked up and whispered, "Can I... do you mind if I touch it?"

"No, go ahead," I replied.

For the next several minutes, her hands roved over my spear, occasionally cupping and gently squeezing my balls. She ran her thumb over the eye of my Cyclops, spreading the drops of pre-cum around the purple helmet.

Finally she said, "I've got to stop."

She unbuttoned her blouse, unsnapped her bra and out tumbled the most unimaginably beautiful titties, big ovals of soft creamy white flesh that stood out like two oversized grapefruit topped by pretty pink areolas and centered by two rose-colored nipples in a slanted oval pattern that reminded me of Saturn's rings. While I watched mesmerized, she pulled her skirt up and pushed her panties to the floor, revealing a bikini-shaped stripe of white mound flesh with a small splash of curly red hair followed by the most intriguing folds of flesh along either side of a gash that disappeared behind her. I lifted my hands and looked for her agreement.

She nodded and I began to knead her titties. My breath began to come in gulps and as my thumbs rubbed over the nipples and they grew hard, I felt a hot flush wash over me. I noticed she had closed her green eyes and there was a smile on her face. I only hoped it wasn't the knowing smile of an experienced person recognizing the touch of an inexperienced one.

She was still holding her skirt at her waist when I dropped down and looked closely at her pussy. It was a magnificent sight and I would have loved to explore it. I tentatively put my finger on the mound and touched the curly hair.

I wasn't sure what to do or how long she would allow me to touch her so I stood and asked, "Can I see your booty too?"