The Good Teacher Ch. 01

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Mar 25, 2021 // By:admin // No Comment

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::Thanks so much to Niqqi_6 for editing <3:: Note: story contains nonconsentual themes. * My wife woke me up that morning by wrapping me in her arms and kissing me awake. I opened my eyes to find her nose just brushing against mine. “Good morning, Mr. McPherson,” she whispered to me. I smiled back at her. “Good morning, Mrs. McPherson,” I said grinning back. She ran her fingers through my short, curly brown hair as I yawned out, “What time is it?” “Five forty-five,” she said. She’s a beautiful woman. Brown eyes and chestnut hair. She kissed me deeply. Her mouth wandered down to my right ear where she nibbled gently on the lobe. She knows this never fails to turn me on. “You’re frisky this morning.” She giggled and continued on my ear. I pulled the white comforter over our heads and she didn’t respond. Just bit slightly harder on my ear. “What’s gotten into you, babe?” The ticking of the clock on the wall was all that I could hear above the sound of her quiet breath in my right ear. “Honey?” I asked again. With her head hovering over my own holding up the blanket like a tent above us, her grin turned into a broad smile. “What is it?” I asked more seriously. She took a moment and then said in a loving whisper, “I want a little girl.” Her words were as delicate and as tender as though her tongue were the cradle and the idea the baby. This is what she had said to me two years ago and for an instant that happy scene replayed in my mind. Everything was bright and perfect with her in her white lacy night gown and the light of the morning sun coming in through the window. However, at the time we lived in a small apartment in another part of town. Now that time has passed and we’ve saved up, the room is bigger than before and the entire house is ours. It’s one story and smaller than I’d like for my wife and two-year-old Mason, but it’s only our first home. “Virginia,” I whispered slowly, putting my hand on her thigh. “Don’t you want to wait a while so we can settle in first? A month at least? We just moved in the day before yesterday, there’s still a lot of work to do.” I spoke into her beaming face. Already she was sure that it was time to have another baby and no matter what reasonable points I could make for waiting, she wouldn’t listen. So I stopped and looked at her for a long moment. “Ok,” I said at last. “I can’t promise a girl though.” “It’ll be a girl,” she said. “I know it.” * * * I was an English teacher at Eastside High School in Patterson, New Jersey. My first love was literature before I met Virginia and teaching is my passion. I had thought about writing books of my own but I was still waiting for inspiration to come. At that point in my life, teaching worked for me and I loved my kids. I think for the most part, they loved me too. Or at least they didn’t harass me which I was told meant that they liked me. In fact, I was told by several of my kids that I was their favorite teacher. Which I guess was simply because I could relate more to them. I was 34 so it hadn’t been too long since I was in high school. I had my favorites, too. I tended to appreciate the class show-offs who spoke out of turn and clowned around for the rest of the class. It kept the tone of the room informal. And on more than one occasion I had caught wind of certain rumors of crushes and the public opinion that I was “the hottest teacher in school”. Nonsense, but it was all in good fun. I never passed up an opportunity to laugh along with my students. On one morning the class was suddenly overtaken by the sound of book bags being zipped up and chatter erupting just after the bell rang for class to be dismissed. Over the noise I yelled, “And anyone who hasn’t turned in their critical essay yet should do so as soon as possible so I can grade them over the weekend. You have until 3:15 today, so let’s get those papers in!” I stood behind my desk, shuffling my papers and straightening up for the teacher of the next class. Some of her students had already started taking their seats in the room. A boy with blonde hair and bright blue eyes came up to me just then. “Hey, Mr. McPherson, I’m going out of town for the weekend and I was wondering if I could get my paper to you after the deadline.” Usually deadlines didn’t concern me that much. I remembered hating deadlines in high school and in college, so I had made an informal vow to mylsef that I wouldn’t be so strict about them with my own students. But I did want to get all my critical essays in before the end of that day so I could grade them over the weekend. “Can you turn it in before you leave?” I asked. “Well I’m leaving right after school today. My mom’s picking me up and then we’re driving to Wisconsin. I have it written up on my computer though,” he said. Matthew’s demeanor was subservient talking to me one-on-one. Typically in class, he’d be one of the boys I’d have to ask to quiet down several times. “Do you have it on disc with you or can you atalar escort email it to me?” I asked. The next teacher came in and greeted me with a smile.

“Yeah, I guess can get my mom to swing by our house before we leave town and I can email it to you.”

“Great,” I said. “You just email it to me, and here’s my address.”

I wrote it down on a sticky note which I handed to him as I spoke, “…and you have a great weekend.”

“Thanks, Mr. McPherson, see you next week,” Matthew said as he turned around and maneuvered his other arm into the strap of his bookbag and walked into the hall of crowded faces.

* * *

When I came home that afternoon around 5:00, Virginia was waiting for me. She kissed me when I walked into the kitchen.

“How was your day?” she asked.

“I hope you got your party hat ready ’cause it’s critical papers this weekend! Wooo!” I replied sarcastically.

“Oh, no.” she said, kneeling down to the floor where Mason stood in his red overalls.

“Well, Mason. You wanna tell daddy what we did today? Huh? Say ‘we’re learning colors on Nick Jr’!”

She got up from crouching and hugging the boy and walked by me to the stove where she nonchalantly stirred a spoon in a pot of noodles.

“Day care, teacher, and you have dinner on the stove?” I walked up behind her and put my arms around her. “Someone’s a domestic goddess.”

I smelled her perfume. The French brand that she always wore when she was ready for sex. And for a moment, I just stood there and smelled her hair. Then I kissed her neck, warm and starting to blush.

“Hold on, let me put Mason down for his nap,” she said quietly to me so that the boy couldn’t hear.

She squirmed gracefully out of my arms and scooped up Mason, disappearing down the hall and into the baby’s room. Meanwhile, I went to the room across the hall and unbuttoned my shirt.

Minutes later, Virginia came in to find me in my boxers, lying on the bed.

“You ready?” I asked her seductively.

She closed the door behind her and pulled off her sweater. Straddling me, still in her tight jeans, she ground against my pelvis. Her breasts swelled beneath her black satin bra. Pushing myself up with my elbows, I met her left breast with my mouth, lightly stroking the smooth material with my tongue. She reached behind her and undid the hook, letting the bra fall clumsily so that the cups hung loosely on each luscious breast. With a quick hand I pulled it out of the way and welcomed her left nipple into my mouth; sucking on it and softly squeezing her right nipple.

Virginia unzipped her jeans and dismounted me. As she kicked off her pants, I pulled down my boxers, allowing my cock to flip up as the elastic band went over it. Eight inches and a great width. In bed, Virginia worshipped my penis. She pulled off her black panties and thew them at me. I put the silky material around my dick and rubbed up and down as I watched her walk slowly towards me and lay on the edge of the bed. Her head was in my crotch now. She rubbed her smooth cheek against the silk-covered shaft and then bit softly into the panties, pulling them off of me with her teeth. I jerked at the sensation.

She went down on me, bobbing up and down on my manhood while I put my hand into her hair, moving it away from her face so I could watch her lips slip tightly around the shaft. Her tongue played with the underside of the head and with her hand she toyed with my balls.

Sex with Virginia was wonderful. I loved the smell of her and the way she would blush when she came. Always, it was the same position that got her off. Missionary. Fucking her deep and hard so that I reached her G-spot, (I knew by the blush that swept over her face and chest), and massaged her clit at the same time. She screamed during her orgasms.

After she got off, it was my turn. An hour had passed since we started and the baby monitor was still quiet. Virginia was lying on her back and I straddled her chest, feeding my dick to her mouth. I pulled away from her, scooting back a few inches and grasped both breasts in each of my hands, pushing them together and then sliding my cock between them. I slid faster and faster, enjoying the friction. I didn’t even notice Virginia saying my name.

“Brian. Brian, honey.”

I kept sliding back and forth, back and forth. I felt the surge within me. The climax was mounting and it was past the point where I could stop.

“Brian, wait! Not here,” she said.

I pressed her boobs harder together and pumped back and forth faster than ever until I felt the orgasm break upon me and threw my head back.

“No! Brian! Inside me!”

But it was far too late for that. I shot my load on her chin and neck. My cum lubricated her breasts so that the friction decreased and the slide was easier. I allowed each shot to be released before I slowed down and let go of her breasts. She reached over to the nightstand and opened the drawer to pull a tissue from the box inside. I grabbed one as well ataşehir escort and cleaned up my dick and her chest and neck.

“I wanted you to do it inside me, Brian, didn’t you hear me?” she asked disappointedly.

I smiled sheepishly and she couldn’t resist grinning despite herself.

“Well that just means we’re going at it again later. How long do you need to recoup?” she asked.

I put my leg on the floor and stepped off of my wife and the bed, “Fifteen or twenty minutes.” I replied.

“I’ll go check on Mason then. Don’t get dressed, I want to go again in a few minutes while Mason’s still down.”

“All right, woman, keep your pants on. Er, off.” I said, aware of how lame the joke was. “I need to check my email for a paper, I’ll be right back.”

I walked to my dresser and opened my sock drawer, pulled out some clean boxers and slipped them on. As I went down the hall to my study I heard Virginia in Mason’s room cooing at him and rearranging his stuffed animals in the crib.

My study is the last room at the end of the hall where my computer and work things are. Filing cabinets, folders, and papers everywhere, scattered and in piles. I sat down in my chair in front of the computer and turned it on giving it a minute or two for the system to load. I opened my browser window and went to my school email account, entered my password and found the email from Matthew in my inbox entitled, “Critical Essay, McPherson”.

The essay was in a Word file. After opening the document, my eyes skimmed over the essay, glancing at the length and the format of the paragraphs. Already I caught a few grammatical errors. I chose the “file, print” feature. As the paper slowly printed out on my rather old machine, I looked at the email address from which Matthew had sent the letter. His handle was “SoccerBoi1987”. I leaned back in my chair, waiting for all five pages to feed out of the paper slot and rest in the tray.

SoccerBoi1987. 1987. I did the math quickly in my head. 18 years old. He looks much younger than that, only about 16 or so. I knew that he had been on the soccer team since the beginning of class when I had all my students stand up, give their name and one thing about them. Matthew’s one thing was that he loved soccer and had been on the school team since his Freshman year. Being a fan of the sport myself, I couldn’t wait until Mason was old enough to start playing himself. I anticipated teaching him all my moves and best plays. I suppose the reason why I liked Matthew so much was because I sort of looked at him as what I hoped Mason would be when he was that old. Strong and honest. Matthew has blonde medium-length hair and brown eyes and a sweet smile. The girls loved him, too. His girlfriend, Lana, was one of the more popular girls, always sitting with the in-crowd in the cafeteria when I walked through.

It was then that I did something stupid. Innocent, but stupid. I got curious and my mind started to wonder what, if anything, Matthew did on the internet. I never really gave much thought to the fact that my students are online, talking to people all over the world and finding information that my generation was never privy to. Seeing Matthew’s email address meant that he knew enough about the web to set up and use an email account. So what else might he know how to do?

I highlighted Matthew’s email address, right-clicked and copied it. Opening a new browser window I went to where I pasted the address in the search field and pressed the search button. The results loaded quickly, and at the top of the list was a link to a geocities personal webpage. In the description for the link there was a fragment of a sentence, presumably taken from the actual page, which included the email address I had use for my search. I clicked on the link.

The site had no index. No front page or anything, just a few folders listed one beneath the other in the database of the page. The first folder was “favs”. I clicked on it and found a listing of various images, all of which were big names in professional soccer leagues. The second folder was called “index” but had nothing in it. And finally, the third folder, labeled “stuffforlana” was the only one left. I clicked on it and was presented with three pictures and a video clip. I clicked the video first. It was called, “webcam_July17_05”. Immediately my Windows media player opened and started to load the video. And that’s how everything in my life changed. This video was the spark that ignited the fire that consumed me and destroyed my life.

I was looking at Matthew, smiling at me from the screen.

“Hey Lana. I thought I’d, uh, make ya a new video. And I, uh, hope you enjoy it. Ok.”

Matthew pulled off his shirt. My hand darted for the mouse and clicked the ‘X’ at the top of the screen. The computer stalled. Ctrl, alt, delete, still stalling. Nothing happened on my computer. The modem emitted a strained buzz as it tried to sort out its processes, but the system was old. And still the video played avcılar escort in front of me. I couldn’t even turn the sound down. Mostly it was just the subtle whisper of silent air against the microphone, but every now and again the shuffle of clothes being taken off sounded within my little study. I got up and quickly closed the door so Virginia wouldn’t hear. I continued to try and exit out of the video and cursed at myself for my stupidity and curiosity. Matthew was in his underwear now. Tight white briefs that bulged out in the front, tenting with his erection. His upper half disappeared as he stood near the webcam. Then there was banging on the microphone and the boy took it away from his desk and positioned it elsewhere in the room, likely on a shelf or something high where he could angle the camera to get a good view of his bed.

Once the camera was in place, Matthew walked to the bed and laid down, putting his hand over the crotch of his briefs and rubbing it. With is other hand he pinched at his nipple. I realized that I was staring at it and forced myself to look away. I spun my chair around to face the door of the study.

“Ahhh,” I heard Matthew moan with pleasure and couldn’t resist turning back around to see what he was doing.

I faced the screen again just in time to see Matthew whip out his penis. It stood about five inches tall. He was uncut and his hand went slowly down and then back up his shaft. The foreskin collected around the head and then backed off with each stroke. To my horror and great surprise I found my own cock stirring.

I got up and walked around the room, pacing in the small space. I noticed then that the humming from the modem had stopped. Surely now I could turn off the video. But as I leaned over the desk and pointed the cursor at the ‘X’ again, my eyes fell upon the video as Matthew pulled off his briefs completely. He turned over and got on his hands and knees so that his ass was exposed to the camera. Oh, god what an ass. Smooth and tan and perfectly rounded. I could see the small puckered hole, like a rosebud imploring me. That small orifice. My mind instantly imagined something stuck into it. A pencil, a finger. No, something bigger. Something that would appreciate the tightness of this boy’s young asshole. My cock.

I was having trouble breathing. The situation was far too erotic for me to handle. I didn’t know what to do, so I dumbly followed my instincts’ lead, letting my hand go to my cock and pump it as hard and fast as I could. I stared intensely at Matthew’s ass. The boy’s shoulders were on the bed while his ass was still held up by his legs spread apart. His penis hung beneath that delicious butt and he continued to jack himself off. I was sweating profusely. I gasped for air and I almost felt like crying. I wanted the boy so badly.

In my mind I was shouting, “I HAVE TO FUCK HIM! I HAVE TO FUCK HIM!” I saw his body swaying back and forth there on his bed as I imagined fucking him. And within only a few seconds I let loose a stream of semen thicker than the one I had delivered just fifteen minutes before in my own bedroom with my own wife. Another load sprang from my cock. My balls tightened and my hand unrelented. I groaned loudly and pathetically, unable to resist Matthew’s beautiful naked body.

When it was done, I collapsed in my chair, still looking at Matthew on the screen with a long splatter of cum over his digital image, oozing down from where I just shot my load.

“Oh God… Matthew…” I whispered hoarsely.

I was exhausted. I reached for a tissue and brought it to the monitor. Lovingly, tenderly I touched the cum and Matthew’s body, wiping it carefully clean.

A knock at the door. Panicking, I tucked my penis back into my boxers and closed the video of Matthew. “C-come in,” I said.

Virginia poked her head through the door. She was back in her sweater.

“Mason’s up now and I don’t think he’ll be ready to go down again for a while.” she looked disappointed.

“Maybe later then,” I said reassuringly.

She smiled and closed the door again. I heard her banging around in the kitchen finishing up the dinner she had neglected and knew that I should just leave Matthew’s page and never go back to it. In truth, the experience scared the hell out of me. The feeling of wanting something, someone, anything as badly as I had wanted Matthew just then was frightening. It gripped me and I couldn’t control it. I closed the browser and went back to my room to dress and get ready for dinner.

* * *

Throughout dinner and the rest of the night all I thought about was Matthew. Running through my head, I saw him spread his gorgeous ass for me, just for me, over and over again. Around 9:30, Virginia wanted to have sex again. I was definitely turned on, but I longed to go back into my study to jack off to Matthew’s video again and look at the other pictures I hadn’t had a chance to view yet in that, “stuffforlana”, folder. But I didn’t dare go back into that study. Not only to avoid the temptation but because part of me was deathly afraid that Virginia would know exactly what I was doing, even though there’s no way for her to know at all. So I made love to her again that night. It was tedious at best. I fucked her and massaged her clit and she sucked my cock. But my skin seemed repelled by her, as if she and I were magnetically charged and pushing away from each other.

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