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School Daze

Category: Mature
22.06.2024
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During my final year of high school my English teacher, Miss Jacobs, became pregnant. This alone is not so remarkable. The problem, however, was that Miss Jacobs was a miss and not a missus. Once the members of the school board found out about Miss Jacobs’ pregnancy she was given the option of pregnancy leave (firing her was only an implied threat), after which she was shunted off to another school. Those who banished her probably thought it magnanimous of them to not sew a red A to her blouse before sending her off.

Back then, in the late 1970s, an unwed, pregnant teacher offended the moral sensibility of the small, conservative community in which I grew up. It was as though Miss Jacobs might teach her perceived lower moral standards to us young, impressionable students, or we might somehow become infected with her so-called ‘loose behavior’. The fact that the father of the child was our school principal was of equal concern — although that was only whispered in corners by local gossips at Historical Society meetings and Garden Club shows.

I was born in late October. That meant that on the year that children in my age range began school I stayed home, having missed the minimum age requirement to enroll by mere weeks. My parents argued that there was no logical reason to make me miss an entire year of school simply because my birth date fell less than a month too late. They lost that battle. Rules were rules, and if an exception was made for me then it would have to apply to everyone and anarchy might ensue — or so went the logic of the by-the-book school board.

At first I minded being the oldest kid in my class. Then as I grew older it was no longer an issue. I was perceived as being older, although it hardly mattered to me. I just wanted to fit in. By the time I began high school I was the tallest boy in our class and the first to begin shaving. As a teenager these things really mattered to me. As we all began our final year at Elston High I was eighteen — weeks shy of nineteen. There was another guy in our class named Jason, so I eventually became known as Tall Jason to differentiate us, since I had hit six feet by then.

It was after we returned from Christmas break in January that year when Miss Peters arrived. Sometime later I found out that her first name was Lana. None of us were given any forewarning that Miss Jacobs would be replaced, or why — although we all knew the sordid details from having over-heard our parents discussing it. We only found out about our new English teacher when we wandered into class one Monday morning and saw her sitting behind the pine desk in front of the chalkboard. After we all took our seats and settled-down Miss Peters introduced herself and informed us that she would be teaching us English from then on.

The first time I laid eyes on Miss Peters was one of those clichéd moments that everyone seems to have at least once in their life. I almost expected the world to shift into soft focus and hear violins playing as everything began moving in slow motion. At least that’s how it felt to me. I was in a daze. My cock began to stiffen as I gazed upon the beautiful teacher standing at the front of the class.

For years, a friend and I had been secretly looking through his father’s collection of Playboy magazines. The women I saw on those pages became my standard for beauty: blonde, thin, buxom; the stereotypical Barbie doll type. Miss Peters was the antithesis of all that, yet she was equally as gorgeous, if not more so. She was only about seven years older than me, having just graduated with her teaching certificate. This was her first teaching job and I found that her sometimes nervous demeanour made her endearing and sexy. I hoped that she would never take on the stern, jaded characteristics of my older teachers. She made English fun and interesting — something that I would have previously thought impossible. She was also far prettier than Miss Jacobs, or any other teacher at our school for that matter.

Miss Peters was rather short, just a few inches past five feet, with thick brown hair that hung down a few inches past her shoulders. Her brown eyes seemed to radiate whenever her full lips formed into a smile or she laughed. Miss Peters was thin, yet not skinny. She was svelte and lovely. Her vibrant personality and cheerful disposition made her even more enticing to me. She was anything but a Barbie doll. Usually she wore skirts or dresses, but on the rare occasions that she wore slacks I barely heard anything she said in class because I was too preoccupied with staring at the graceful curves of her firm, round ass and slender hips, or the outline of her thighs through the taut fabric covering them.

Something I noticed almost immediately about Miss Peters was her breasts, or the seeming lack of them. They appeared very firm and conical, yet barely a handful. Russ Meyer would have never looked at her twice, but I could have stared at her all day long. It was only when she wore sweaters or slightly tight blouses that I was treated to the sight of her exquisitely shaped breasts rising from her thin frame. Had she been born in another era her breasts would have been considered the epitome of how a woman’s bust should look. I was reminded of how Napoleon supposedly modeled what became the standard for wine glasses based on the breast of one of his sisters. Had he known Miss Peters, people today would be sipping from glasses whose size and contours were based on her enticing orbs.

English was always the one subject I struggled with throughout school. I tried to comfort myself with the fact that I always did well in other subjects such as math, chemistry and physics. I wanted to study engineering at college, so kept reminding myself that I would never need to know anything about poetry or great works of literature as an engineer. Still, I needed to pass English in order to graduate.

My lust for Miss Peters soon developed into a major crush. That helped cement my enjoyment of English and things that I had never cared about before. Still, my test scores were low. I had thought I was doing quite well in Miss Peters’ English class, until the day I got a term paper back that I had written on Romeo and Juliet. I slumped in my seat, glaring at the red D that Miss Peters had written on the cover page of my essay.

“Could I see you after class for a few minutes, Jason?” Miss Peters said as she handed me my essay.

I scowled and let out a sigh. I looked up at Miss Peters standing beside my desk. I nodded. For the first time ever I dreaded the thought of seeing her later.

After English class ended that day and my classmates headed off to their next classes I trudged to the front of the room holding my term paper. Miss Peters was flipping through a book, preparing for her next class. Her hair was pulled back and held in place by a gold coloured barrette. It accentuated her pretty face. For awhile I forgot about my term paper as my cock began to harden. She looked up at me and smiled. I noticed that she was wearing a bit of dark eye shadow and ruby lipstick, which made her even prettier.

“Now let’s see that paper, Jason.” Miss Peters reached across her desk and smiled at me.

I stood on the opposite side of the desk, feeling shy and nervous while she looked my paper over. She was wearing a long blue skirt and a pink blouse. The top two buttons of her blouse were undone, allowing me to see her upper chest, just below her collar bones a ways. Her skin looked soft and smooth. When my eyes moved further down I noticed that I could see the faint outline of her nipples pushing out at the pink material of her blouse. Up until that moment I had been hoping to think of other things in an effort to quell my erection. Suddenly it was harder than before. Now I feared that my teacher would notice a bulge in my jeans.

“What hurt your grade a lot was careless spelling errors, Jason. Come here and see what I mean.” Miss Peters pushed her chair over, motioning for me to stand beside her to review my paper.

As I made my way around her desk I could feel my cock throb. I stood beside Miss Peters, my thigh brushing against the arm of her chair as I looked over her left shoulder. Her slender hand was resting on my paper. It was then that I noticed her light pink nail polish, which matched her blouse. When I shifted my eyes and ran them over her back I noticed how her blouse was taut and smooth against her body. It took me a few moments to realize that she wasn’t wearing a bra. My heart raced and sweat formed on my palms.

“Now, look here, Jason,” Miss Peters said, pointing to words that she had circled with a red pen. “Look at all your spelling mistakes. Do you know how to use a dictionary?” Her question was out of concern, not sarcasm, judging from her gentle voice.

I nodded. “Yeah,” I mumbled.

“Well, if you’re not sure about how to spell a word, look it up. Or get your parents to proof read your work. Okay?” she recommended.

“Okay,” I said with a nod.

Miss Peters flipped through the remaining pages of my term paper, scanning it for errors. I looked down at her, wishing I could stroke her back and slip my hands around her to cup her firm breasts. When my eyes returned to the neckline of her blouse I realized that I could see down the front of it as she leaned over slightly. It was then that I saw Miss Peters’ right breast, sloping gracefully from her torso inside her blouse. I nearly let out a groan in surprise and pleasure as I stared at her perfectly shaped peak. It looked as smooth and firm as alabaster. It appeared to definitely be a good handful, I surmised. Her bronze-coloured nipple was hard and surrounded by an areola about the size of a quarter. My heart pounded and my cock throbbed as I ogled her.

“Jason, pay attention. I’m trying to help you,” Miss Peters said, looking up at me. She sounded annoyed, a rarity for someone with such a pleasant disposition as her.

I had been oblivious to whatever it was Miss Peters had been saying since I had noticed her bare breast down the front of her blouse. She looked up towards me and caught me leering, then when she noticed the spellbound look on my flushed face she looked aghast. Her jaw slackened a bit and I heard her issue a faint gasp as her pretty brown eyes fell to the front of my jeans. She quickly gathered up the sheets of my term paper.

“I… I think that was all I wanted to point out to you, Jason. Try to be a little more careful about silly mistakes from now on.” Miss Peters handed me my term paper without looking up from her desk.

“Ah… okay,” I mumbled.

Students had begun filtering into the room for their class and I was eager to leave. I hurried back to my desk to retrieve my books and belongings, then dashed out of the classroom and down the hall towards the chemistry lab.

For the rest of the school year I had as little interaction with Miss Peters as possible. My feelings for her had not waned, but I was so ashamed and embarrassed about what had happened that I desperately wanted to avoid her as much as I could. Her demeanor towards me never changed, but I assumed that she must have thought I was a lust-crazed pervert and wanted as little to do with me as necessary.

Ironically, one fortunate result, if any, of all of this was that my grade in English got much better. In an effort to avoid another meeting with Miss Peters after class I studied a lot more. I also worked much harder on subsequent papers and assignments that I handed in to her. My endeavors paid off and I passed English that year with the highest grade I had ever gotten in that subject. My achievement had not escaped the notice of Miss Peters.

On the last half-day of school before graduation I went in to pick up my grades and clean out my locker. While I was standing at my open locker she noticed me and stopped. I felt anxious, but the warm smile on her lovely face put me at ease.

“Congratulations, Jason. I knew you could do it,” she said, seeming as pleased for me as I was.

“Thanks,” I said with a modest smile. “But I had a great teacher. You deserve a lot of the credit, Miss Peters.”

“Thanks. I don’t know if I deserve it, but I’ll take it,” she said with a laugh.

There was a lull in the conversation and I felt nervous. Miss Peters seemed anxious too because I noticed her eyes dart about and she began fidgeting with her wristwatch.

“So, what are your plans for the fall? College?” she asked as her eyes met mine once again.

I nodded. “Yes, I’ve been accepted at Elston Tech. to take engineering,” I said.

“Congratulations! Your parents must be glad that they’ll still have you home while you go there,” she said.

I shrugged. “I don’t know about that. I think they were sort of hoping I’d go to a school further away. But I’m glad. It’s a good school and staying here will mean Mom will still cook for me and do my laundry,” I said.

Miss Peters laughed, then gave me a lingering smile. I loved how she was looking at me; no girl had ever looked at me like that before. But it made me a little uneasy and slightly turned-on.

“Are you going to the prom?” she asked.

“Yeah, if I can scare-up a date,” I said, then shrugged.

“Oh, I doubt you’ll have any trouble with that,” she blurted out, then seemed to be embarrassed by her remark. Her eyes shifted about once more. “I’ve been pressganged into being a chaperone for a few hours for it, so maybe I’ll see you there,” she added.

“I hope so — if I can find a date, I mean,” I stammered.

“Well, congratulations again on doing so well in my class, Jason. Bye for now.”

“Bye…” I sighed, watching Miss Peters walk away.

Finding a date, for the prom or otherwise, had not really been a priority for me that year. I think my unrequited feelings for Miss Peters had rendered me blind to other girls. I had gone to a few parties and met some pretty girls– even had a few intimate encounters with a couple — but it never went beyond that. The truth of the matter was that I was still a virgin, and probably the only one in my class.

Over the next day I thought hard about who I might ask to the prom as my date. Having a date was actually less important to me than simply attending and being able to see Miss Peters there. One potential prom date came to mind: a girl named Krystal I had met months ago. She was friendly, pretty and had given me a half-hearted blowjob in the bathroom during a party one night at a friend’s house a few months previous. When I called Krystal she was surprised to hear from me, but seemed happy about it. Luckily, for me anyway, she had not been asked to the prom yet and accepted my offer. I hung up the phone feeling relieved.

Once prom night arrived I was nervous. I had wanted to look my best because Miss Peters would be there. I had spent the money my parents and other relatives had given me as a graduation gift and bought myself a new black, double-breasted suit. Krystal seemed to like how I looked when I picked her up at her house, so her reaction boosted my confidence. Hopefully Miss Peters would feel the same. I had borrowed my dad’s car that night and as we drove to the hotel where our prom was being held Krystal’s freshly manicured hand inched up my thigh towards my stiffening cock. She gave my balls a squeeze and smiled at me as she caressed my shaft through my pants.

After we arrived Krystal and I made our way over towards a group of classmates gathered around the punch bowl. From the corner of my eye I saw Miss Peters talking with a few other teachers off to one side of the room. She didn’t notice me, which gave me the opportunity to stare at her a while. She was wearing a black knee-length dress with a plunging V neckline and black high heels. Her hair was done up on her head, with ringlets falling down around the side of her face. Up until that moment I could not have imagined her looking more beautiful than she already did, but that night she was absolutely radiant. The stars in the sky must have been jealous of her. I wanted to go over to talk to her so I could take in her beauty up close, but feared that would seem too obvious.

Krystal and I mingled with friends and danced a little bit over the next hour or so, but my thoughts and my eyes were mostly on Miss Peters. She had noticed me a while after we arrived and beamed me a friendly smile and waved. My cock throbbed as I admired her from across the room. I smiled and gave her a nervous wave.

When Krystal announced to me that she was going out to the parking lot to have a cigarette I was surprised. I had not realized that she smoked, not that I cared. I found an empty chair at the end of a long wooden table and sat down, watching the couples dance and wished Miss Peters and I were one of them. I noticed her look my way a few times, then quickly turn her head when I made eye contact.

I had not really been keeping track of the time, but after a while I began to wonder where Krystal was. Bored and curious, I decided to got out to the parking lot to look for her. I followed the sound of a car stereo blasting Led-Zeppelin’s fourth album. I found Krystal sitting in the back seat of a red Mustang with two other girls. They were passing a bottle of wine between themselves and two guys sitting in the front. I could tell from her speech and boisterous laughter that she was well on her way to getting drunk.

I went back inside and sat back down alone at a table. The DJ who had been hired to play records that night had chosen a good selection of songs. I listened to the music for a while, then grew bored. I was contemplating going home early when I saw Miss Peters approaching. My spirits lifted and my pulse quickened. I could feel my cock begin to stir.

“What happened to your date?” she asked, turning her head left and right.

“Right about now she’s probably either puking up cheap wine in the parking lot or making some guy in a Mustang really happy,” I said with a sneer.

“Oh… Jason, I’m sorry to hear that,” Miss Peters said. She reached out gave my hand a brief squeeze.

It was the first time that she had ever touched me. Her soft skin on mine was electric. My cock reacted instantly and I smiled at her.

“Mind if I sit down?” she asked.

“No. Please…” I said, pulling out a chair.

“Thanks. These shoes are killing my feet,” she sighed.

The music was loud, so it was difficult to make conversation, which did not bother me too much. I was nervous, but more than happy to just be able to sit with Miss Peters and bask in the glow of her beauty. About a half hour later the DJ began playing Nazareth’s cover of “Love Hurts”. Nazareth was one of my favourite bands and this power ballad of theirs was better than most of it’s ilk.

“Would… would you like to dance?” I asked Miss Peters. I felt like I had nothing to lose since we might not see one another after that night.

Miss Peters looked almost as surprised as she did the day she noticed the bulge in my jeans as we looked over my term paper, but she smiled.

“I… I don’t know, Jason. It might not seem proper, since you’re my student.” She was hesitant, but at least her answer wasn’t an out-right refusal.

“I’m not your student anymore,” I reminded her.

Miss Peters thought for a moment, then smiled. “Okay then,” she said and stood up.

I followed Miss Peters out on to the dance floor. My cock was throbbing even before I placed my hands on her slender waist. She seemed nervous and hesitant at first. Several times I noticed her give a wary look over towards the other teachers. Once I lead her into the crowd of other couples dancing she soon relaxed. I pulled her closer until our bodies were touching. Her eyes met mine and she smiled as my hand slid over her lower back.

“You look handsome tonight,” she said.

“Thanks. You look beautiful, but that’s nothing new,” I told her.

Miss Peters smiled. “You don’t need to flatter me, Jason. You already passed the course,” she said with a soft laugh.

“I mean it,” I said. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life, Miss Peters.”

“But I’m almost old enough to be your –”

“Older sister,” I interjected with a smirk.

Miss Peters laughed and wrapped her arms around my neck. It was then that I felt my hard cock press against her soft stomach, just as I had feared might happen when we began dancing. She let out a gasp when she felt it, then flinched slightly.

“Wow… I guess you really do mean it.” Miss Peters smiled and moved her hips, rubbing the soft curve of her tummy over the bulge in my jeans.

“Sorry… I can’t help it when I’m around you,” I said.

“Like that day at my desk, when we were going over your paper?” she asked with a foxy grin.

“Yeah…” I sighed. “You looked so good in that pink blouse.”

“There’s nothing special about that blouse,” she said, sounding perplexed.

“But when you leaned over I could see down the front of it,” I confessed.

“You could?” She looked up and met my eyes.

I nodded, giving her a wide smile.

She laughed, then frowned a bit. “Well, I’m afraid there’s not much to see down there.”

“There’s enough for me. Besides, your nipples are really cute,” I said.

“You saw my tits?” she asked with a wide-eyed expression.

“Well, just your right one,” I said.

Miss Peters gave me another look of surprise, but seemed bashful. “So that’s why you were so… worked-up,” she concluded, giving me a wily look.

“Yeah,” I sighed.

I wasn’t sure how to react to that,” she said. “It surprised me so much.”

“How did you want to react?” I asked.

Miss Peters giggled, tugging me closer. “I wanted to do something that would have gotten me fired, or arrested, or both,” she admitted.

“Well, I’m nineteen now and I’m not your student anymore,” I reminded her.

Miss Peters leaned away from me. Her dreamy eyes met mine and she gave me a coy smile. “What are you suggesting, Jason?” she asked, now sounding as turned-on as I was.

“No one would miss us if we left now,” I said.

Miss Peters took one final look through the throng of dancers amongst us, over towards the few teachers in the opposite corner. She gave me a teasing grin, then took hold of my hand.

“Come on,” she said as she pulled me towards the exit.

Miss Peters and I never spoke as she drove towards her apartment. I stared at her, running my eyes up and down the body I had desired for so long. I reached out and ran my hand up her right thigh. She turned her head and smiled, then parted her legs, allowing me to slip my hand under her dress. I stroked her soft thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. She sighed and smiled at me.

“You’re making me so wet, Jason,” she said, almost moaning.

“It’s only fair, since you’ve made me so hard for months,” I told her.

Miss Peters let out an impish laugh. “Well, this isn’t the first time you’ve made me wet though,” she admitted.

I looked up at her as I stroked the soft inside of her thigh. “Oh… when were the others?” I asked, surprised and curious.

“Well… that day at my desk. Then on the last day of school, at your locker. I wanted to give you a hug then — sort of a farewell hug, but I was too scared to. I was afraid someone would see us or… or it wouldn’t stop there.”

When I began rubbing her pussy through her damp panties Miss Peters moaned and slid forward on the seat, pushing back against my fingers as I massaged her swollen clit.

“God, that feels so good,” she said with a clenched jaw, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “But you better stop for a while, please. You’re going to make me have an accident.”

I laughed as I slid my hand from under her dress.

When Miss Peters turned in to the parking lot of an apartment building I was glad we had reached our destination. I jumped out of the car and followed her inside. During the elevator ride up I pulled her to me. I gave her ass a hard squeeze and pulled her soft mound against my thigh. She held my shoulders and moaned softly. I kissed her cheek. Her skin was soft and warm on my lips.

My hands were still on Miss Peters as she fumbled with the key to her apartment. Her ass felt wonderful and I couldn’t wait to pull her dress up around her waist to see it. We hurried inside and she locked the door. I pulled her to me and kissed her as she kicked her shoes off into a corner. She moaned as her tongue teased mine. I sucked at her moist lips and tugged at them with mine as I ran my hands over her, feeling her curves and soft body through her dress.

“Remember you asked what I wanted to do that day at my desk?” she said with a sexy glint in her eyes.

“Yeah,” I said, breathing hard as I caressed her ass.

Miss Peters never replied. She unbuckled my belt and pulled at the zipper of my pants. She slid my pants and my underwear down past my knees, smiling. My cock swelled and rose towards her glistening mouth once it was free from my underwear. Miss Peters smiled and ran her fingertips along the underside of my hard shaft and fondled my balls. I felt it twitch as precum leaked from the slit.

“Mmmm… oh, Jason… if I had have known this was what you had, things would have been different with us months ago,” she sighed, tilting her eyes up to me.

Seconds later I felt Miss Peters wrap her lips around my cock. She squeezed the base and sucked hard, taking as much as she could deep into her warm, wet mouth. I moaned, almost feeling dizzy. I held onto her shoulders as her lips glided up and down my cock. Her soft fingers rubbed my balls and she squeezed them as she continued to suck and work her tight lips over my rod. It may have only been a few minutes, although it seemed longer before I knew I couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Oh shit… I’m gonna cum…” I groaned, gripping her shoulders harder.

Miss Peters kept her lips wrapped around my shaft, stroking it while I emptied my load into her mouth. I was still hard when she pulled her mouth off of me. I noticed a bit of my cum glistening on her lips and running down her chin. She looked perfectly wanton as her tongue darted out, licking my cum from her lips. She smiled, still caressing my cock as it began to soften.

“How was that, Jason?” she asked in a breathy voice.

“Wow… oh, god, Miss Peters,” I gasped.

She pressed herself too me, still reluctant to stop rubbing my spent cock. “Call me Lana,” she said, then kissed me.

“That was wonderful… wow, Lana,” I said, unable to stop smiling. “I… I came so quick though… sorry,” I said, feeling embarrassed.

“That’s okay, Jason. We’re just getting started,” she said.

Lana pulled my suit jacket off and hung it on the doorknob. She pulled my necktie off and began unbuttoning my shirt while I fondled her breasts and rubbed her nipples through her dress. She pulled my shirt off and tossed it aside, then looked down to my pants and smiled.

“You better get those off,” she said.

Once I was naked Lana ran her eyes over me. She smiled, then slid her hands down my chest and around to my ass. She squeezed it hard, pulling me against her until my limp cock rubbed over her. It left a damp spot on her dress as she swayed her hips, grinding against me. I reached around her and found the tab to the zipper of her dress. I pulled it down, then slipped her dress off of her shoulders. It slid down her body till it was on the floor. She was wearing matching black panties and a bra. They looked very sexy, but I wanted to remove them. When I pulled at the left strap of her bra she folded her arms over her chest, giving me a bashful look as her eyes locked on mine.

“They’re small… you might not like them,” she said, almost sounding frightened.

“They’re not small, Lana — they’re average size and very nice. I’ve already seen them, remember?”

“You said you only saw the right one,” she countered.

“Yeah, but I know I’ll like the left one too,” I said with a laugh.

Lana gave me a taunting grin and pulled the right panel of her bra down to reveal her breast. It looked as nice as it had the day I’d seen it down her blouse, if not even nicer. She ran her fingertips over it, stroking her stiff nipple. “Maybe I’ll just let you see this one then — since you’ve already seen it and like it,” she teased.

“No,” I pleaded, giving her bra strap a tug.

Lana giggled and darted past me. I chased her into her bedroom. Her bare breast shook as she climbed onto the bed, still laughing. I pinned her down and tugged at her bra while she giggled and wrestled with me. She rolled over onto her stomach. I straddled her, pressing my cock against her firm ass through her damp panties. She bucked her hips, pushing back at me. I slid my hands up her soft back and unhooked her bra, then pulled the straps aside. I leaned over her and kissed her neck, then nibbled at it. She moaned and writhed beneath me.

“Turn over, Lana,” I whispered in her ear.

“Uh-uh,” she refused with a grunt, sounding playfully defiant.

“Okay…” I said.

I tugged at her panties, sliding them over her hips and down her smooth legs to expose her lovely ass. I ran my hands over it then squeezed it hard, kneading it and pressing my fingertips into her pliant flesh. Lana moaned louder, moving her hips under me. I ran my fingertips over her pussy, spreading her juice over her soft petals and feeling my finger slide between them and over her clit.

“Mmmm… that feels good,” she moaned into the blanket beneath her. “Play with my pussy, Jason.”

When I began working a finger into her pussy Lana raised up on her knees. She was tight and wet. I felt her grip my finger as I pushed it deeper into her. Her bra had slid down her arms and her breasts shook a bit as she bent over for me. I reached up and squeezed her left breast as I began fingering her dripping pussy faster and listening to her moan louder.

“Turn over,” I said, slipping my finger from her. “I want to see your face.”

Lana rolled over onto her back. She smiled up at me and pulled her bra the rest of the way off and tossed it aside. I pulled her panties off and dropped them to the floor behind me.

“God… you’re beautiful, Lana,” I said as I ran my hands up her legs.

Lana bent her knees and spread her legs wide for me as she played with her left nipple. Her shiny wet lips peeked out through the patch of dark hair. I bent down and ran my tongue up them. Lana shuddered and pushed up towards my probing tongue.

“Oh shit, that feels good…” she cried out.

I began licking her soft lips, pushing my tongue between them and flicking the tip over her hard clit. When I pushed a finger inside her and began sucking on her clit Lana twisted her hips and moaned, then grabbed two fistfuls of my hair. I began working my finger faster and teasing her clit with the tip of my tongue. She was breathing rapidly and lifting her ass up from the bed, grinding her clit against me. When she gave my finger a hard squeeze and let out another long moan of ecstasy I knew he was cumming. I laid down beside her, still stroking her soft, juicy lips.

“You’re amazing,” Lana sighed, then kissed my mouth. She licked her wet lips and smiled.

“Thanks, but I’ve got a good teacher,” I said.

Lana chuckled. “I can’t imagine being able to teach you anything. You probably taught half of the girls in your class everything they know,” she said.

“No,” I said as my smile vanished.

Seeming concerned by my dour expression, Lana raised up on her elbow and looked at me. “What? Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry, Jason.” She held me by the back of my neck and kissed my cheek.

“No. It’s not you, Lana. It’s me,” I explained.

“What? Is something wrong?” she asked, sounding, nervous.

“If I tell you something, do you promise not to laugh?” I asked, looking into her eyes.

“Yes, of course,” she promised, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I’ve never actually gone all the way with a girl,” I confessed, frowning.

I could tell that Lana was surprised by my revelation, but she showed little emotion. “Oh… well, there’s no shame in that, Jason. I can tell from what we’ve done so far that you’re a wonderful, caring lover.”

“Thanks,” I said, giving her a feeble smile.

Lana ran her fingertips over my thigh, stroking it while she looked down at my cock. I could feel it respond to her loving touch. It began to slowly thicken and swell. She caressed it, coaxing it to life.

“This time I want your thick cock in my pussy, Jason. Fuck me like you wanted to that day in the classroom when you were looking at my tits.”

Lana’s dirty talk was all the encouragement I needed to get rock hard. I rolled over and began squeezing her left breast and sucking on her right nipple. It was hard and thick as I pinched it between my lips. Lana stroked and squeezed my shaft while I played with her tits.

“Just one thing, Jason: I’m not on The Pill, so… you know… I don’t want to end up like Miss Jacobs. So be careful, okay?” Lana looked into my eyes and let out a nervous laugh.

I cupped her jaw in my hand and kissed her tender lips, smiling. “If I get you pregnant, I’ll marry you, Lana. Hell, I’ll marry you even if I don’t,” I told her.

Lana chuckled. “Seriously… just be careful where you cum.”

“I am being serious. I love you, Lana.”

Lana drew in a sharp breath. “I… I don’t know what to say, Jason,” she stammered.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. Just let me love you.”

Lana gave my mouth a soft kiss as she coaxed me between her silky thighs. She tugged at my hips, then reached down and took my hard cock in her hand. I felt the swollen head slide over her wet lips as she guided me inside her tight, wet pussy. I moaned as my shaft sank inside her. She held me tight inside her, then pushed up with her hips. She wrapped her silky legs around mine and held onto my arms.

“Love me, Jason, please,” she breathed into my ear.

I began pumping my hips. The feeling of being inside Lana’s velvety walls was like nothing I could have imagined. She stroked my back and thighs while I pumped in and out of her. When our breathing grew rapid and she began moaning louder I began thrusting harder.

“Mmmm… yes… that’s it… god, you feel so good inside me, Jason. Fill me with your hard cock, Lover.”

Lana’s eyes were closed and she had a look of bliss on her face. Her breasts shook as I pushed her down onto the bed with each stroke.

“Harder, Jason… fuck me… please,” Lana moaned, clenching her jaw.

“God… you’re beautiful,” I said, looking down at her.

Lana grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me down further. She kissed me, sucking on my tongue and thrusting her hips to meet my cock. She was gripping me, stroking my shaft with her tight pussy. When I felt myself getting close I slowed down and looked at her.

“I’m so close… I better stop,” I said.

“No… cum in me…” she said.

“But you said…” I was still moving my hips while she massaged my cock inside her.

“Did you mean it, Jason — about if you got me pregnant?”

“Every word,” I told her.

Lana shifted her hips and wrapped her legs around the small of my back, locking us together. She began thrusting harder up at me.

“Fill me with your cum, Lover,” she said.

I pumped my cock harder into Lana. When I let out a loud groan as I came she gave my throbbing cock a hard squeeze, milking my cum from my shaft so it filled her. She hugged me tight with her arms and legs, holding me to her soft, quivering body until I felt myself beginning to soften. I slipped out of her dripping pussy and laid down beside her.

“You were marvelous.” Lana rolled over and rested her head on my chest, running her fingers over my stomach.

“That was unbelievable, Lana. God, you’re an amazing woman,” I said, still breathing hard.

“You bring it out in me, and it’s been building for months,” Lana said. She wiggled closer until she was pressed to me. “I’ve wanted you for a while. I just knew you’d be a wonderful lover.”

I stared up at the ceiling, holding Lana to me and stroking her back.

“So, how do I rate as a prom date?” she asked, looking into my eyes and smiling.

“Great. But I bet you’ll be an even better wife,” I said.

Epilogue

When we’re young we’re told that our school days are the happiest days of our lives. If that’s true for anyone, I pity them. My best days only began after high school. I got my degree at Elston Tech., then soon after that I began teaching there and consulting part-time for a few companies. Life for me had turned out better than I could have ever dared dream of.

One Thursday I was driving home after I had finished teaching for the day. The radio was on in my car but I was not really paying attention until “Love Hurts” came on. I turned the radio up, smiling to myself as my thoughts went back to Lana and me on prom night. I could feel my cock begin to harden as I recalled that glorious night, years previous.

After pulling into the driveway and parking the car I hurried in to the house. Lana was home, waiting for me, just like she had been every day since we had gotten married. She looked as beautiful as she did the day I first saw her in English class nearly ten years earlier. When I pulled her to me and kissed her moist lips she felt my erection pressing into her stomach, which was now very round as our second child grew inside her. She looked down at the tent in my pants and smiled.

“You’re happy to see me,” she teased as her brown eyes shimmered.

“I’m always happy to see you. I love you so much,” I said, then kissed her forehead.

“I love you too,” she said as she kissed my cheek and ran her hand up my back.

I began tugging at the buttons of her blouse, not waiting to get her to our bedroom.

“My… you’re horny today,” she said, rubbing my cock through my pants.

“I’m always horny when I see you,” I said, pulling at her blouse.

“Mmmm… feel like being a little naughty?” she cooed.

“How naughty?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“How about we get out your Nazareth CD and you call me Miss Peters tonight…”

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