Miss McCaffrey – a short story about a boy and his after school lessons…c’mon we all know where THIS is going. Now we are there.
As soon as we entered my English teacher’s bedroom she spun me about, stripped off my t shirt, and pulled me tightly to her lips again. Her breasts were pressed firmly against my bare chest. My hands worked her dress off her shoulders and on to the floor. I had caught on, as her hands deftly worked the buttons on my jeans, that we would not be needing costumes for the remainder of this class.
With a firm pressure on my shoulders Miss McCaffrey shoved me onto the king sized bed. Then she slipped my jeans off to join her discarded dress. “I think it’s time for phase two,” she said with a grin on her luscious lips.
As I worked my way up towards the head of the bed she was crawling up towards me. Stalking me like a tigress, pursuing me. Then she drew herself up and straddled me looking down, with lust heavy in her eyes. I grabbed hold of her soft smooth silky thighs. My confidence was growing, fueled by my own new found lust.
Miss McCaffrey lowered herself into me and I could feel myself crossing over that threshold to manhood. As she ran her hands through her hair, I looked up longingly at the firm breasts towering over me. I brought his lips up to sample the offered flesh.
The rest of the afternoon was spent with me learning many ‘ variation on a theme’. I was exploring all of Miss McCaffrey. I started understanding more of the passages I had been assigned to read these past couple of months. Her arms and legs, her breasts and lips, I was coming to learn and understand many new sensations.