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Reaching the Teacher

By: mattwatt43



Carol Anne Anderson taught history and social studies. The job, the profession for her had placed her in the midst of a life time love. She loved teaching. She was fairly laid back with the high school kids in her classes and around the school but she was, for all of her basic niceness a 'no nonsense' type of teacher and was treated that way by her students. She was popular and was the advisor of the year book committee and the student council. 

At a lovely 28, Carol Anne was not particularly a lonely woman but, admittedly, had very little social life. She'd cared for her invalid mother for most of her adult life from her immediate post college days, when her strong willed but loving father had died in an auto accident, from which her mother never seemed to recover, nor wish to recover.

She lived with her Mom on a small farm outside of town, which had been her Dad's fancy. A successful businessman, he had left his wife and his college aged daughter well off, fairly independent. 

Carol Anne never complained about 'her lot'. She loved her mother and was eternally saddened by the fact that her Mom never seemed to try very much, after Dad was gone. She took care of her Mom until the time when the cancer, which had occurred in the past year and a half, finally took her too. 

Carol Anne was lovely, of medium height at five foot four inches, not over weight, though she thought that her butt was too big. In reality she was proportioned very nicely, with a 37c inch bust line and her generous hips. She never had a super abundance of 'romance' in her life, since the time when she began to take care of Mom. But Carol Anne never complained. She never really dated, although she'd had overtures from various married faculty men, which she never honored. A life as 'the other woman' was simply not what she was going to allow herself. 

She tended to dress in a conservative fashion, favoring straight skirts, keeping the pleated minis in the closet for days, when she was feeling braver than usual. 

Getting used to a 'free' life, a life alone in the lovely old farmhouse was taking some time for her. At first she tended to mope at home and her brightness was mainly found in her activities at work, at school. Time alone, as the first half year after her Mom's death passed, seemed to make her more at ease with herself at home.

One of the 'romantic' things that entered her life, and she began to allow, after she started to live alone in the family home alone, was masturbation. She was always ashamed to be 'pleasuring' herself, when her Mom was at home and sick, so she very rarely ever did it, though she loved the sensations of it. 

These days she would fill herself, her mind, with tales from online story sites, favoring, for reasons she'd not taken time to analyze or understand, those romantic kinds of stories where women would give themselves over to a man, to be 'used', as the stories called it, and be fulfilled by being someone's kind of property.

Those were delicious stories. She thought that she should take time soon to sit and think about this tendency within her, which seemed to go back, maybe, to the constant 'yes, Daddy' attitude of her teenage days and her college youth. 

She was, for all intents and purposes, ripe for life, which seemed to be passing her by: a fact that she didn't rage against and tried not to allow to bother her. 

Her bastion, her refuge, her place of freedom and joy, these days, was in subjects such as the Civil War, which this year she was teaching to a group of select senior honor students. It was a teacher's delight and Carol Anne reveled in this, almost as an alternative to a sex life. 

Having been 'missed' didn't seem to bother her, as she spun around herself this world of the joy of teaching, of making the past re-live, and the steamy sessions that her night time 'finger wandering times' were providing.

That changed for Carol Anne Anderson in a way that she simply never anticipated. It was a late in the day double period with her honor students. The first part of the hour was spent leading a discussion of General Sherman's war aims. The second part of the long period was then to be devoted to each student writing an essay on the subject. They all were busy with their laptops, and Carol Anne sat for a few minutes.

Then she got a message notification on her own laptop, sitting on her desk. It went this way:

Carol Anne Anderson,

I want you to know that you are the most gorgeous, sexy woman alive.

I've waited until I got past my 18th birthday to send you this message. I don't want it written off as the ranting of callow teenaged mind, which is not the case.

Please don't try to trace this e-mail; I've made sure that it's sent via blind addresses and is not traceable.

What I do want is for you to think of what I've said; think of it all week long. Let it be your mantra this weekend for silent, and possibly sweet personal moments.

On Monday give me your reaction. Make it known by the first thing that you say to our class on Monday. If you choose to ignore this, so be it. But I have made my statement, and I assure you, Carol Anne, that I've never been more serious about something in my life.

Think about this for the weekend: that is your task.

Me 

Her breath caught in her throat. She, of course, looked out at the students in the room but no one was looking at her in any way. There was no obvious hint about who it might be that sent the message. 

After the initial shock wore off, she tried to get her thoughts and, she realized, her emotions under control. 

Her first reaction was kind of a reality check one. She realized, almost right away, that she wasn't taking this as a prank nor as the work of an adolescent. Carol Anne thought that she detected some real adult emotion in what was said in the e-mail, which she made sure to print out and send along to her home computer, after which she deleted it from her school computer.

The very next thing that happened to her was the weight of what he actually said settling in on her. 

". . .the most gorgeous, sexy woman alive!" she whispered to herself. "It's what he said."

She stopped and thought about it; it had in effect stopped her cold, and she found herself mumbling with some wonder:

"No one has ever said that or anything like that; not to me!" 

She let it fill her mind, and knew that this compliment she'd keep with herself, even if this note was only a fluke and whatever promise there was with it went away.

Then her mind went on to his instructions for the following Monday:

"What. . .what am I. . .should I say on Monday?" she mused. "He said it needs to be the first thing that I say to the class on Monday. I need to. . .uh think about this and make sure that I say the right thing."

She laughed at that point and talked to herself:

"Girl, this little note certainly has you rattled!"

She laughed at the truth of it: "It sure does!" she admitted, the smile not moving from her face at all. She came to a decision, at least about her night, then:

"Up, girl," she said to herself, "Even if nothing comes of this, we're going to celebrate tonight."

She swept her stuff to take home into her brief case and left the room, putting the lights out as she went. There were still students in the hallways and she got smiles and nods from all sides; she was a popular teacher. She wondered with each intended greeting: "Is he the one?" At times she winced at the prospect of some of those she encountered being 'the one'. 

She also found that her constant asking the question had her giggling to herself, by the time that she was leaving the building. (Our Carol Anne is a giggler really!) Before she had arrived at her car, she had another world shaking thought:

"What if it's a. . .a woman?"

The answer came quickly: ""Now you're being just silly; it was certainly a man."

But the only reply to that thought was a moaned: "Oh my!"

Carol Anne Anderson was, to the best of her knowledge, a very contented woman. She loved her teaching. She had, had no time for romance, except for some torrid happenings during her college days. Her devotion to her Mom had combined with the teaching job to fill her time, her days, her years, her life. This message was a significant crack in all of that wall of self built protection and contentment.

The more she thought of it, the more she rationalized that it was precisely because she'd been so careful about her world and the parameters of the world that this 'assault', as she chose to see it at times, was getting to her. 

"Girl," she said to her self, later that night, sitting in the dark, wearing a floor length white nylon gown, that was slinky and clung to her hips, butt and breasts, "this is Mr Normal living knocking at your door."

She giggled at that thought, and once the giggle was over, she lapsed back into the mantra that 'he' had dictated for the weekend: '.the most gorgeous, sexy woman alive!' She allowed it to run through her mind, and capture her thoughts, imagination and emotions. 

"You must be really hard up," a nasty inner voice said to her, "If this is all that it takes to get you smokey hot!" But she pushed the voice away and wouldn't let that side of her be the dominant side. She was going to, determined to, spend her time doing what he'd told her: think about that mantra, '.the most gorgeous, sexy woman alive!'

She sat in the late dark night. She had a screened back porch-like, patio, an indulgence which she allowed herself. She loved the way right then that the nylon gown, with its spaghetti straps and all, made her feel, and she admitted to herself that, though she'd worn it before and felt good in it, this night was different, with 'his' mantra floating in her mind; this night she felt like pure sex appeal, sitting in a soft cushioned chair in her screened in patio and drinking a sweetish, lovely Rhine wine.

"If only he were here now," a tiny voice said to her. Then, of course, came that contrary, argumentative voice whispering also, seeking a tinge of malice in its thoughts and what it said, and not really achieving the effect, due to Carol Anne's message induced euphoria: "Or if only she were here now!"

Carol Anne's reaction to that was to giggle, and say to herself wonderingly:

"I've never done that, never actually even been tempted but I might, I just might."

The truth of the weekend and her life over the weekend was that she'd been taken by surprise and bowled over by the simple phrase: '.the most gorgeous, sexy woman alive!'

She constantly dismissed the insinuations from the dark side of her mind that it might be a geek or someone who is fat and ugly and all. This led her to do a mental ramble through that class and face the 'likelies', as she called them. It was one of her weekend projects, pushed by the mantra but it didn't work out because she found herself eliminating people based on intellectual criteria alone.

"This isn't working," she said and stopped the efforts. She'd gone inside to do the look through of her class book but then, when she didn't think that it was working for her, she went back to the screened in patio and sat with another glass of Rhine wine, just letting her mind wander with it. 

She was certainly angry with herself in the morning, letting the dark voice dominate her thinking about how much of a 'silly ass' she'd been with it, and what a giggly girl she turned into by one damn message on the computer. 

She put her sulking body into a hot tub of water and wallowed, discovering that the relaxing water washed away the morning fog that, she was sure, had been produced by too much Rhine wine on the patio the night before. The relaxed into the water and let the mantra sweep over herself again, and determined that she would enjoy having the message in her mind for the day, just enjoy it. 

It was that kind of day, without a lot of further inner debate. She did speculate, at times, on who it might be, and the possibility, slim possibility, she thought, of it being a girl still produced a spate of giggles from her.

The next day, however, the thought hit her that she had to decide to respond or ignore the request. She realized immediately that she liked this 'little adventure', as she termed it, and was certainly going to respond to the message. She used the balance of the day to try to think of how to deliver the message.

She went shopping in the afternoon and bought a few new skirts, and a blouse; on a whim, while in the store, she also bought a number of new panties and bras. She didn't 'need' those as much, but the struggle with the 'mantra' kind of determined her to 'spruce up' her wardrobe. 

"What if. . ." she said to herself, and giggled a response. 

On Monday she was ready. She wore one of the new sets of panties and bras, a beige set and, liked the way she looked. She had also worked out her message to the unknown e-mail sender.

She was nervous, when she was first in the class room. She had the same group for 'homeroom' that she had for the Civil War honors seminar. She said to herself:

"So, he will be there." (Or 'she' that voice chimed in and the giggles that followed that suggestion tended to settle Carol Anne down a bit.)

They were all there and ready for her to begin their day. She faced them and smiled and said:

"I want to thank you for the kindnesses I had from some of you, when my Mother recently passed away. I appreciate what you've done, and wanted you to know that."

It was her declaration. It was simple and held the message that she wanted to send to the 'sender'. (She no longer was even assuming that it was a guy.)

The day went fine for her. She felt at ease with the fact that she'd made her response, and was sure it would be understood. The last double period of the day arrived and they continued the discussion about General Sherman. Toward the end of that time period, she gave them an assignment and the class fell silent.

It came a few minutes later, the next e-mail message:

Gorgeous Carol Anne,

I can see that your weekend was productive, though, I assume busy. Having observed you and your ways for a while, I am sure that you had a debate about whether you're on the verge of making a fool of yourself. I assure you that you're not. Nothing that I do that 'we' might do or will do shall ever jeopardize your standing at this school. I promise you that.

As you can imagine, or have already decided, I am not a typical prankster teenager out to bait the teacher. So, dismiss that from your mind.

I want to assign you a task, or tasks that will show to me that you know how to follow orders. I am interested in plumbing what I think is an innate nature in you to do as you're told. It's that part of you that I wish to appeal to, but I need to know that you are serious about what is going on here and that you can indeed follow directions from me.

Think of this. Take two days to have your inner debate, and on Wednesday give a quiz. In that quiz make sure there is a statement in question number '10' that answers my question about your willingness to undertake the next task and do as you're told. I anticipate your answer.

Me

Carol Anne was stunned! Any stray thought that she might have had about this being a prank was simply gone, banished by the almost driving insistence of the new note. It caused her to sit back in her chair and sigh, although she knew right away that such a reaction was certainly showing 'him/her' that the message was getting to her.

Then there was another note:

Carol Anne, lovely Carol Anne,

You may now ask me one question. Only one.

Me

It surprised her, and what surprised her even more was the sense of relief that his permission about asking one question brought to her. She let that word sit in her mind for a moment: 'permission', and she discovered that she liked the word. She thought a bit and sent her message:

"Thank you for your messages, and for the permission to ask one question, one among my many, many! This is so strange! But my question:

Are you male or female!"

Carol Anne

She sat back then regarding the class but everyone was working and most were typing on their computers. It wasn't possible to guess who it was. She got a reply.

Carol Anne, Lovely Lady,

You are so delicious. What a marvelous question. I never would have selected it as the first thing that you'd ask. But my answer: I am male.

I will follow with one question of my own, and allow you to answer:

Would it matter?

Me.

She had t think about that, for that was part of her inner debate during the past weekend, and she decided to be totally honest in her reply:

I think it would but am not totally sure!

The next message came quickly:

Grand, simply grand! You are lovely beyond lovely and conflicted about bisexuality! I like that. With this note, this connection will be closed and dead. Think about what I've asked you to do. On Wednesday, during the class quiz, I will expect question number 10 to have your answer: are you ready to undertake the task that I will set and do as you're told?

Me

She didn't even try to respond to this one, indeed, it was obvious that 'he' didn't want her to. She tucked the question away in her mind for her next round of thinking.

She discovered that this one was much more difficult. "But he knew that!" a voice within said.

She had been happy to respond to the outrageous complement that he'd given but now this was different: he was, in effect, asking her for obedience. That made it a completely different thing.

She had an early dinner and retreated to her screened in sanctuary, limiting herself, on this occasion, to one glass of wine, which she sipped.

"Obedience!" she said to herself, enjoying the darkness that wrapped itself around her, as she sat there. She sat and let her mind wander a bit before taking up the issue seriously, and was jarred out of her reverie by an inner voice that whispered a soft: "Robe."

"Oh," she thought to herself but the voice went on, "Why else, my girl, did you bother to put the robe on, after your shower with only a pair of panties on?" Then it uttered another insistent: "Robe!"

Carol Anne obeyed and slipped the robe off of her shoulders, sitting back then on the swing but now wearing only her pretty panties. 

"Obedience," she thought, "I don't know." And then she giggled:

"Girl," she said softly to herself, "You were already obedient to that voice telling you to take your robe off, and isn't this delicious?"

The very word 'obedience' sent her back to those college days, before she left the two year college for the university. They were her 'reputation days', as she always called them. It was only in her later teen aged years, having lived in very strict surroundings, with a dominant Father and an insistent Mother, that she broke out in any way. It was all down to her friend Jackie Quinn, who was the one to introduce Carol Anne to 'oral sex'.

She'd been adamant with him that she wasn't about to give away her virginity to him, nor did she 'give it away' for another number of years. But he'd asked about oral sex.

It became a constant topic with them and one that she finally, almost to shut him up, but with a truthful growing sense of being ready, willing to do what she was told to do. It was just like the home environment slopping over into her 'sex' life, if those brief 'reputation years' could be called a sex life at all.

But yes, the truth of the matter was that she gave Jackie Quinn his blow job, her first, but not, he made sure, her last.

And the 'reputation' thing? Jackie had bragged to his buddies and for the rest of those two years at that local college, Carol Anne was the one to go to for a blow job. It was rebellion time for her, and this was the form that her rebellion from her Father's strictness and lack of any attempt to understand her took. 


Reaching the Teacher



"The reputation days!" she said out loud with a snort, "You blew them, when they told you to." 

That was how it was in those days. Tell Carol Anne Anderson, tell her to do it. Tell her to get her face in your lap, to put your thing in her mouth, to do the oral. Tell her to, and Carol Anne obeyed. 

The little voice was back speaking to her and her night: "You enjoyed it, doing it!"

"Oh yes," she sighed to herself, she'd enjoyed it. But she didn't want to go to the university with that kind of reputation hanging over her. It was the one place where her father came through for her. He allowed her to go to a university out of state. The 'reputation days' were over, and he died just after she finished college, and her mother began her long, long 'invalid' time. Giving blow jobs on demand was never a part of her social schedule again.

"What social schedule?" the voice rasped, "You don't have one."

She just sat and let the words sweep over her, and didn't try to deny anything, any of it. She shook her head then and got back to the topic:

"Obedience! Is what he wants," she mused, and found that this tingled even more than the pronouncement about her being so gorgeous had. 

And the voice, always the voice, was back again: "Carol Anne, you're going to do this!"

"Yes!" she said out loud, realizing that it was, for her, a final judgement on the subject.

"Be careful!" the voice said next.

"Yes!" she said again. 

Then she knew that she needed to go in, for already her hands, those clever fingers, were down inside the waist band of her panties. Then suddenly it was as though he sent her a new message and demanded, as part of her obedience, that she do it, play with herself here. 

Carol Anne obeyed. Her muffled cries were absorbed by the night. She even took her panties off and played with the hair and then her pussy lips and then the sought after clit button, she played and let the night watch her, thinking, in the back recess of her mind, that it was he who was watching.

The words that she accompanied her groaning orgasm with were simple:

"Obedient! Yes, I will be."

The next day in school was a blur. Carol Anne settled down that night to formulate the quiz that she was going to certainly give. She went over the information that they'd been dealing with, and she wrote out the questions. Then she got to number 10 and hesitated. Finally it came to her and she wrote it out:

10. Thought question: During the Civil War the attitude "I will be obedient to what you wish to have done" was the outlook of which of the major Union Generals. Tell why.

She found herself skating through her day the next day, anxious for the last double period to arrive. They were all there, all seated and she announced the quiz, to a chorus of expected groans.

"Come on, friends," she said, "We're trying to establish things about you here and this quiz will help that."

She gave out the quiz papers and waited. It was a few minutes later, when she got the message:

Carol Anne, Lovely One,

Excellent. Your message is clear. Here's what you need to do. Tonight at 9:00 PM log onto the chat room 'the panty drawer'. Log on as tea28. I will be stu18. I will give you your instructions now. 

I permit you to ask one question.

Me

Carol realized that the instructions themselves turned her on. She wrote back, allowing her fear to show:

"You won't brag about this to your friends?"

She sent it and waited, not sure if she should have asked that but it was too late. Then the answer came.

C.A.,

I've already told you that; I know you're apprehensive but trust is essential. In the fullness of time, I will need to spank you for that question.

Me

She looked at his answer and realized that he was correct. He didn't deny her the possibility of a reply, so she sent him another note:

Oh dear! I don't know if I am afraid of that or excited by it---being honest here.

His answer came quickly:

Always, always be honest with me, Carol Anne. And, yes, it was not merely my 'come on' to you. You are simply the most gorgeous and sexy woman that I know or have ever met.

Me.

P.S. Tonight at 9 PM!

With hardly even a thought, she sent off a reply:

Yes, sir.

His reply came:

You're turning me on, teacher! Good for you! 

This link will die with this note. Tonight.

Me.

It was then that the period ended. She watched them leave, very interested now in knowing who it would be and still not sure she'd be able to pick him out, but also afraid that this was the project of one of the geeky kinds. She was determined somehow to deal with that. 

She just smiled and nodded at them. She stayed for a bit, after school and did some grading work and planning that she needed to do. She also decided to go out for dinner. She treated herself to her favorite place and at 8 PM she was in the shower, getting herself ready for 'the panty drawer'.

She logged on and saw the nick name that she was supposed to go to. She noted that there was a switch to use to speak privately to people. She went to the switch and sent a message.

C: I'm here; as I told you I would be.

S: I never doubted it for a moment.

C: I don't. . .uh. . .know what to do here, now?

S: Of course not; that's one of the things that makes you so delicious.

C: Thank you. Would you please help me out?

S: Of course I will but first, it's almost necessary for the man in these situations to ask the woman what she's wearing. Tell me, all of it.

C: Oh dear! Well, I'm wearing a robe and my, uh,underwear now.

S: Not enough description at all.

C: Sorry, the robe is white silk and long; the underwear: panties and bra are blue.

S: Lovely, gorgeous Carol Anne; take the robe off and tell me when it has been done.

His latest 'order' went right through Carol Anne. She realized in a flash that she'd not been like this, engaged in this kind of emotion since those long ago days at the Junior College, when the boys gave her the name 'Carol the Mouth'. She shook herself and rose and did what he'd told her to do: she took her robe off.

C: It's done.

S: Carol Anne, until we chat like this with cameras, I need you to be very specific about what you're doing and have done.

C: Sorry, I didn't realize.

S: Of course you didn't, but you can learn.

C: Yes, yes, I can. (There was a pause here, as she thought again about it.)

S: Carol Anne, are you still there?

C: Sorry again; I was. . .was thinking. I guess, since we're chatting like this and not seeing one another, I can be honest with you.

S: Truth, Carol Anne!

C: Yes, uh, truth! You see, I haven't felt like this, or kind of allowed such emotions, I mean erotic ones, in years, not since one particular part of my life in school. It's so strange, as if a kind of beast were moving within me.

S: I like that 'a kind of beast moving within me'. You haven't taken time at all have you?

C: No, that brief part of my life scared me away from sex, and then my Dad died in an accident and my Mom got sick about six months after that and I developed my career and took care of Mom, until her death three weeks ago.

S: Then maybe it's time for Carol Anne.

C: Yes, maybe it is; but I'm not sure this is the way.

S: I know that and I have planned for it but for now finish what you were telling me. Do as you're told Carol Anne!

(With his last words there was another electric erotic surge within her; it pushed against her hesitance at talking with a student but she began to get involuntarily wet; she could feel the wetness seeping into her panties.)

C: Oh dear!

S: What?

C: I'm . . .I'm getting wet here.

S: Tell me why, Carol Anne.

C: Because of what you said to me, the 'do as you're told'.

S: I thought so! Tell me then.

C: My panties and bra match; they're sky blue. The panties are bikinis with lace at the waist and lace panels at the leg bands.

S: And they're getting wet!

C: Yes, they're getting wet. We're opening doors here that I thought were not only closed but firmly locked. This is fairly amazing. But . . .

S: I know the 'but' Carol Anne, and have planned for it also. We're almost done here, you see. I know that you are afraid of finding out which of your students is talking this way to you. I will say that I'm not one of the pimpled geeks, playing a trick on the teacher . . .

C: Thank you!

S: Don't interrupt, Carol Anne! That would cause a spanking.

C: I'm sorry!

S: Accepted. Here's what we're going to do: tomorrow give a quiz. Short quiz, five questions. Very easy. My paper will be the only one in the room with none of the questions answered at all. Give it at the end of the first period and then grade the quizzes. If you are satisfied, be here tomorrow night at the same time.

C: Yes, yes, I will do that.

S: And, Carol Anne, when I sign off here, I want you to play with yourself, and tomorrow night I want you to be naked in your chair. Am I clear.

C: Yes, clear. Thank you for doing this in this fashion.

S: Good night, Carol Anne, gorgeous woman, Carol Anne, lovely teacher.

C: Good night!

And he was gone; just like that. She sat in wonder for only a few seconds and her hand went down inside of her panties and pushed its way through her pubic hair, scrabbling and searching. She accompanied her efforts with loud sighs.

"Oh yes, it was always like this! Oh yes! In those times, in those dirty times, it was like this!"

She barely had time to get the last words out. She was so hot, so primed that she came quickly in response to the stimulation of her clever fingers. She fell into a kind of languor and merely unhooking and removing her bra, settled down, smiling, to sleep.

She was nervous the next day and forced herself to concentrate on her lessons. Gradually she got back in her groove and it was fine, until those last two periods. Toward the end of the period she announced a flash quiz, to the groans of the class. She laughed at them and told them to suck it up and they'd be fine. She passed out the papers with her five easy questions, about General Sherman's March, on them.

She was almost breathless, when she collected the papers. She had them in a bundle and gave the class an assignment, which they all bent to behind their computer screens immediately.

She began to go through the papers in the order that they sat in the class room. She quaked periodically, when she neared the paper of a particularly unattractive boy, and then she found it. The one paper with no questions unanswered. She looked up but no one was looking at her. It was Jay Wayne's paper. She glanced at his part of the room covertly.

He was fairly tall, dark haired and, she knew, wrestled for the school wrestling team. He seemed to be much of a loner was very smart but also very quiet. 

The thought, completely unbidden, surged through her: "Jay Wayne! I stripped to my panties last night to talk to him because he told me to!"

She shivered, and as the bell rang to end the period, she said to herself:

"But no panties for Carol the Mouth tonight."

As the students filed out of the room, she took the chance to look at him. He was well built and, she thought just then, beautiful. She shivered again. Just as he was about to pass her desk, while leaving, he nodded slightly. Carol Anne nodded also. 

That evening she put a towel on her desk chair, and settled down. She had a wicked thought and logged into the same chat room at 'teaCtheM'. She waited, and shivered, when she saw him log on. She went to private chat and got a note from him immediately:

S: Good evening, Carol Anne. What are you wearing?

C: Nothing! Or maybe it should be 'nothing, sir'. I don't want to call you Jay.

S: No, I hate that name. You may call me 'Jason'. I don't think that we're ready for 'sir' yet; I'll let you know.

C: Thank you, Jason.

S: Were you surprised?

C: I was elated! Truth!

S: And you are bare assed naked there?

C: (Giggle!)

S: Say it, all of it! I want to hear you repeat those words, which are so true about you right now.

C: Jason, I'm bare assed naked here. (Giggle!)

S: Explain the name that you used. 

C: It really refers to a me of long ago, at a time, when I pretty much scared myself. I came from a very strict home. Had a friend named Jackie. He and I were 'best buddies' for a bit. We talked about sex etc, very liberated. Well, Jackie convinced me once to give him a blow job. Just to try it, was how he put it. 

S: Ah! I see.

C: What I wasn't prepare for was how much I like doing it. I mean part of it was kind of defiance, finally, of my strict parents. But a part of me, somewhere deep within, liked the taste, the texture, licking the head, trying to capture all of a cock in my mouth. I couldn't get over it.

S: Lovely!

C: As a result, I did it for a few years every time that Jackie wanted me to, which was pretty often. But when I got to the jr college, one of Jackie's friends asked me out and on the 'date' told me that Jackie had told him of my ability. I have to admit that I was thrilled. I gave him a blow job that very night, and my career as 'Carol the Mouth' was established.

S: I see, I understand the name.

C: For those two years, I gave blow jobs all the time. One of the guys even talked his way 'into my pants' but sucking guys off was my main thing. I guess I was kidding myself about not being an all out slut. Not sure.

(She hesitated here to think a bit, and realized that with the memories, she had a great grin on her face.)

S: Go on!

C: Sorry, wool gathering! Actually remembering it and smiling. But you see, I scared myself with all of my activities. I worked in the library and I was sucking guys off in the stacks. It was almost a mania, I'll admit. It was so cool, every one was different; with every single male member that entered my mouth I was a new type of woman, the woman that was needed for just that blow job. I don't know if you understand.

S: Perfectly. But it must have gotten to be to much, after a time.

C: How right you are. It did. I went to the university and promised myself that I'd leave Carol the Mouth behind and get into my academics. And here I am.

S: Strength of character, will!

C: Thank you; I believe it was that. But life took a turn then. My Dad died, my mom got sick and I took care of her to the end of her life. I never had the time, even if I would have had the inclination, to go back to C the M.

S: Are you alright now? 

C: Thank you for asking. It makes me a little sad. It was like having my youth twisted and not really getting it back. That's why your note sparked my interest. You've been nice, gentle and perfect for this time for me.

S: I'm glad you say that. What I'm doing is trying to build a relationship; I'm not interested in getting my yobs by playing with a teacher, and, like Jackie of old, bragging about it. 

C: That makes me blush!

S: Probably all over, because of what you're wearing.

C: Or not wearing! (giggle!)

(There was a pause here and, having thought, Carol went on.)

C: Jason, I will say what I've already said to you: I don't know what to do here. It's been so long that I'm not sure of my sexual self any longer. I do know that what you've done thus far, the almost bizarre, demands--if I may call them that--have really gotten my attention. I have worked at, successfully, not thinking about C the M for a long time. You've at least revived her. I don't know if I'm putting myself in your hands or what but I need guidance. That's what I need.

S: You respond, Carol Anne, so well to guidance; I like that; it pleases me. I want, before we do anything, before we take 'C the M' out for a ride, you do do a few things. They will be designed to ease you into this relationship. Thus far, you've done everything so well, flying colors. I want to see you develop that kind of sense.

C: Yes, help me and I will. 

S: And let me repeat; nothing that we do will impact your reputation at school. Nothing.

C: Thank you, Jason. Please tell me what's next, and forgive my being so antsy and forward as to ask.

S: Forward? Not at all. Look at yourself, Carol Anne Anderson, what you're wearing there because you've been told and are responsive.

C: (Blush!) (Giggle!)

S: Here's what I want. For the rest of the week each day I want you to proclaim the color of the panties that you're wearing by the color of the stockings that you wear. Make sure they match. Questions?

C: No, Jason------I almost said a very satisfied 'no, sir', I have to admit.

S: That time is coming but first three days now to show, with your stockings, what color panties you're wearing. Also, each day tell me something that you think I need to know about you, and each day you can ask me a question.

C: I can do that! (This was said 'brightly', since you can't actually see me.) (Giggle!)

S: That's one of the next things on our agenda. I mean video chat. We'll do that soon. First, though, there are the hurdles of the next three days and your declarations, and questions. Please me, surprise me, I dare you.

C: Ohhhhhhhhhh! That turns C the M right on.

S: Good! When we disconnect tonight, I want you to use something to play with yourself. It can be a piece of fruit; it can be a vibrator, if you have one. But I want you using something. Am I clear?

C: Crystal clear, Sir!

S: Good night, lovely Carol Anne, my naked wonder: beautiful woman, excellent teacher, friend and conversationalist, sexy woman, Carol the Mouth!

C: Good night, Jason: KISS!

S: Hmmm! Where was that kiss placed?

C: (Giggle!) Anywhere you want.

She did exactly as she was told. It was so sexy for her. She actually got a zucchini from the fridge, warmed it up by sucking on it and used it to play with herself.

"I'll have to tell him!" she said softly, as she finished her play time. It was her final thought that night before sleep. 

But the next morning, as soon as she was up and around, she was thinking about the dilemma of panties and stockings. She was lucky in that regard, since she had lovely colored stockings. Today would be red, she decided and wore a regular skirt and blouse with a red scarf and red stockings and panties.

She was extremely pleased with herself all day long, anticipating the double period at the end of the day. The first part of the period went extremely well. When she gave them an assignment for the second part of the period, her computer indicated that she had some e-mail. It said:

"Red! Nice! What do you have to tell me? Tell me about those panties, Ms Anderson."

She wrote back:

(Giggle!) Red nylon; band of lace at the waist. I think that you should know that I always swallow! And I'd love to ask you if you wear boxers or not.

His answer was immediate:

"I'm not surprised about your information, though I am pleased. Answer to your question: I don't like boxers. Wear plain ones for PE but usually I wear colorful bikinis."

She shot back an answer: "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Wonderful!"

A pattern had been set. The next day her stockings were dark, almost smokey black. When the work was set for the last period, she got an e-mail:

"Black today? Exciting! Talk to me!"

She'd been thinking about it a great deal during the night. This was so exciting, especially since he'd set a pace with all of this and their e-mail exchanges were all that was happening that week. (She constantly dwelt on how to surprise him though.) She answered:

"Yes, black stretch lace today! I think that you should know that I am not shaved! And I'd love to ask you if you masturbate daily (Blush!)."

His answer followed in a few minutes:

"The girl is bad and bold! Why do women think it's so sexy to shave themselves to look like children? I don't understand. And my answer: Yes, I do, and I think of you always these days!"




Reaching the Teacher



She shot back her reply:

"Blush! Giggle! I love that!"

She spent a good deal of time that evening thinking about how to shock and impress him. She had a pair of white stockings or blue to choose from for the matching panties and stockings the next day. It wasn't until the next morning, just as she showered that she knew what she was going to do.

She waited nervously for his e-mail, to see if he knew, once the first part of the double period was done. It came at last.

"I can't tell exactly; your stockings are regular colored?"

It was all that she could do to keep from crowing. She'd done it. She sent him her e-mail immediately:

"No, sir, I'm not wearing stockings today!"

His followed directly:

"Wow! Bad girl!"

Then she answered:

"Naked girl, in some important ways. I think that you need to know that the quickest way to make me a slave is to kiss my neck! (Big secret!) And I'd love to ask you what you think of pantyhose?"

His answer was quick and definite:

"Hate them; utilitarian but not sexy, definitely!!!!!!! In my minds eye, you wear stockings, maybe garter belts. That's it. Unless you get really bad and wear stockings and no panties. 

The bell rang shortly after that, and the class filed out. A number of them wished her a good weekend. As he came up to pass the desk he spoke quietly:

"Naked girl!"

She blushed a deep shade of red and she giggled.

"That's right, uh, sir!" she said softly.

"Tonight I want to video chat with you. I'll send you an e-mail to tell you the details for it," he said and turned to leave, after she shook her head 'yes'.

"Oh, Jason," she called to him and he turned around to see what she wanted. She went to him and said quietly:

"I love your ass cheeks!"

"Bad girl!" he said to her, and she giggled as he walked away. 

He sent her the e-mail at home early that evening that gave her instructions for video chatting. She knew her way around a computer fairly well but he was quite obviously a whiz. As she did her dinner and showered after dinner to get ready for the video session, she formed a kind of plan in her mind.

They met exactly on time at nine PM. She was thrilled to be able to talk to him via the video.

"Oh, I like this!" she said.

"You seem to like lots lately, teacher!" he replied.

"You keep sweeping me off my feet, keeping me slightly off balance and I have to admit that I'm loving it, Jason."

"I'm glad," he replied with a special smile for her.

"Oh, and I have a confession to make," she went on, blushing.

"Speak to me," he said.

"I went last night to the chat room to see if you might be there; I know that you never said you would be but I wanted to talk to you, if you were there," she said in a rush.

"Anything special on your mind?" he asked quietly.

"No," she admitted, "Just the urge to talk to you."

""I like that," he answered. "So, what happened."

"Well, uh, that's the confession," she began. "You see someone named 'sluttamer' was there and wanted to chat. I told him that I was looking for my boy friend. He asked about you, and I couldn't help myself, I told him that I was your history teacher and that you were fucking me!"

He laughed at that.

She hastened on: "I know that we're, uh you're not, fucking me, I mean; but it was such a temptation and I just kind of gave in. After I told him that, which got a "Wow!" response from him, I just logged off."

"And?" he prompted her.

She blushed visibly, and he laughed:

"And you played with yourself!"

"Yes, I, uh did," she said.

"You're so special, Ms. C. A. Anderson! I have to say that," he said smiling.

"Thank you for saying that, Jason," she replied. 

"But there's something that I want to do now," she said to him, and he smiled and nodded 'yes' to her. She got up and left for a few minutes.

When she came back, she was wearing the same glasses that she sometimes wore in class for teaching.

"Oh dear!" he said, seeing her, as she sat down.

"Now, Mr. Wayne," she began, in her best teacher's voice. "I was surprised the other day, when you didn't answer any of the quiz questions. I know that you are really familiar with this material, and I'm going to give you a chance now to redeem yourself. Are you ready?"

"Yes, Ms. Anderson," he said softly.

She asked the first question, and he answered it immediately. She smiled at him and said:

"Correct," she got up and moved a little way off from the computer so that he could see what she was doing and she took her shoes off. She put them on a chair. He smiled a broad smile, suspecting what this was all about.

She asked him a second question, and he answered it easily.

"Yes, of course," she said and moved away from the computer chair a bit. This time she unbuttoned and removed her blouse. All the while she was doing it, she stared at him via the computer. He was grinning broadly now.

She asked the third question and again he answered it easily. She got up from her chair again and this time she asked:

"Do you have a preference here, Mr Wayne?"

"The skirt, Ms Anderson, if you please," was his reply. She moved immediately to unbutton the side button and unzip the skirt, shaking her hips and letting the skirt slither down her hips, leaving her with a pair of pearl gray panties on, matching her bra.

"Hey," he interjected, "I thought that you didn't wear panties today!"

"I didn't," she replied with a sly grin, "Not for school, not for my Jason! But for play time here I am."

He got the next two questions correct and Carol Anne finished by taking first her bra and then her panties slowly off. When she had them off and folded on the chair with the rest of her clothes, she put her arms up in the air and said brightly:

"Mr Wayne, honey, here's the teacher!"

"Absolutely, totally worth waiting for!" he said, shaking his head in wonder.

She sat down to the computer again and said softly:

"A request: can you, will you take your clothes off?"

He looked around and said: "My Mom's around here somewhere; she's really cool but I'd better not."

"Do you mind if I pout just a little?" she asked softly.

"Well, we can't have a pouting teacher," was his response, "So here." He stood up then and unbuckled his belt, and unbuttoned his jeans, unzipping them and pushed them down to his knees. He was wearing a pair of red bikini underwear, cut for a guy but made, it seemed of nylon.

Carol Anne involuntarily squealed and then blushed and giggled!

"Quite an eruption!" he said.

"Magnificent," was her only word. "Turn please, will you, Jason?" she asked politely and he did so, turning to show him his round, muscular ass.

"Ohhhhhhhh!" she said, "Kissable!"

He pulled his pants up and sat at the computer. He watched her for a few seconds, as she idly was playing with one of her nipples. She spoke them, her breath obviously coming in harder, quicker gasps:

"I haven't felt this way, this turned on, this sexy since my days back at the Jr. College! It's. . .it's amazing."

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"It's like a whirlwind; I'm being taken over; and I discover, when I think of it, that I love it."

"Good, then, naked girl, pull your chair back and play with yourself for me. I want to watch your orgasm," he said softly, in a voice that showed that he would l not take a 'no' answer.

"Yes, sir," she said, "This might be difficult."

"Think of what you just saw!" was his next instruction.

"Oh, yes, I can do that!" she replied, and moved her chair away a bit. She put her bare feet up against the desk and began to run her fingers through her pussy hair. She ran the fingers up and down just lightly on the outer lips of her pussy. It caused her to moan right away. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

"Eyes on me!" he said softly.

"Yes, of course, sir," she said and stared at him as her fingers began to penetrate the inner lips of her pussy. 

"Ohhhhhhhhhh!" she said, faltering a little bit, as her finger penetrated to the sensitive center of her pussy. "Ohhhh, Jason, yes!" she went on.

Her breath was now coming in ragged bursts and she was still staring at him, and constantly working her fingers farther and farther into the depths of her pussy. She was coming close and began to tumble into an orgasm with the words:

"This is. . .for. . .youuuuuuuuuuu!" It left her gasping and unable to talk at all. She shook, she gasped, she mumbled and moaned, making a good deal of noise. When she was finally finished, she looked at him with a smile and blushed.

"Teacher is loud," he said.

"Teacher is happy!" was her reply.

"Lick your fingers now, clean up," were his next words.

"Yes, sir," she said, and then: "Thank you, Jason for asking me to. . .telling me to do that. I really, really enjoyed that."

She paused then and he asked: "Yes?"

"Well," she began, "I'd like to see you do that too."

"Sorry," he said to her, "Like I said, my Mom's around here someplace."

"I know," was her response.

"Stand up," he told her, she did immediately, "Let me see you."

She put her arms up in the air and turned in a slow circle.

"Carol Anne Anderson," he said softly, "You are the most gorgeous, sexy woman that I've ever known."

She blushed at the computer camera: "Thank you, sir!" she said simply. "What. . .what shall I wear to bed?" she asked next.

"Exactly what you're wearing now," was his response and she giggled. 

She looked at the camera then and said softly: "Jason, I. . .I love what's happening. . .I. . ." she hesitated then and finished. "I really do!"

(She realized how close she'd come to saying to him 'I love you' but she needed to test that and think about it before she went or allowed herself to go in that direction.)

"Thank you, Carol Anne," he said to her in return. "Know that this is no game of 'seduce the teacher' for me. I'm not playing idly with you. I"m serious here."

"I know and I really, really appreciate that," she said.

"Go to bed tonight," he said, finally, "At 11:23 PM, play with yourself, and I will also!"

"Whoohoo!" she trumpeted, and clamped a hand over her mouth right away.

"Carol Anne," he said with a laugh, "You're a handful!"

She grinned and turned in another circle, showing him her nakedness. When she was back looking at the camera, she blew a kiss and said:

"Good night, love!" she blushed, when she said it.

"Good night, wonderful naked woman, special teacher, gorgeous lady," he replied, and then: "Good night, my love. Until 11:23 PM."

"11:23 PM!" she said.

She hardly slept, tossing and turning, and watching the clock as the hands moved slowly toward the awaited time, 11:23 PM. Finally it was time to begin and she did a repeat performance of the way it had been in the chair for her, facing the computer. She was sorry that he wasn't there. She thought of his ass, the way he looked in those sexy red bikinis, and wondered what other colors he had. When she came, her orgasm was almost as intense as the one that she'd had in front of the computer.

She sighed and settled back into the pillows. The phone rang.

"Did you like that?" he said, his voice soft.

"I loved that!" she replied, "Did you?"

"Yes," he chuckled, "Messy!"

"Too bad the clean up girl's not there," she said softly.

"You mean Carol the M?" he asked, his voice low and sexy.

"Exactly! That's me! Carol Anne the M!" she said.

"Been a long time?" He asked.

"Oh, yes," she admitted, "A long time; but you're waking something in me."

"Plans for tomorrow?" he asked.

"No, not really," she said.

"I have a tone of stuff that my Mom wants me to do this weekend," he said.

"Can I tell you something?" she asked.

"Yes, of course, Carol Anne, anything," he said.

"Oh, I like that!" she said, "I know it's true. But what I want to say is that I really want to get my hands on you!"

"I know, bad girl," he said, "I've been kind of planning to wait until I graduate. It'll be less risky for you at that point!"

"Oh," she wailed into the phone, "That's more than a month away! I don't know if I can stand the wait!" Then she was silent for a few seconds and went on:

"I'll be a good girl; it'll be okay."

"I didn't tell you to be a good girl!" he said with a laugh. "Carol Anne, I don't want you to get into trouble for sucking off one of your students. This is not a fantasy; it's not one of those kinds of stories where the student gets his jollies off and the teacher goes down in flames. I want you to know that."

She was crying by then:

"I do know it, and I'm sorry to be so emotional but I'm struck by how honorable and adult, sensitive, kind you're being about this. And I promise you, I promise, Jason, a totally devoted woman, when it happens; I promise stars, and banners, and earthquakes and the best that Carol Anne the Mouth can be. I promise."

"A lovely promise to sleep on!" he said. "Good night, Carol, love."

"Good night, Jason! Forgive my overwrought eagerness if I say that I'm beginning to love you," she said, the tears still in her voice.

"The plan all along!" he said. "Good night!"

She went to bed, her eyes plastered open and promised herself in the darkness to think about what she'd said. She went over it and over it. She was critical of the timing, the age difference and kept coming to the same conclusion that in speaking so, she was simply telling the truth for her. 

She pottered around the house the next day, wearing a pair of white shorts and a tee shirt. While she was in the kitchen and didn't hear it, a car pulled into the drive. She was surprised to hear the doorbell and went to answer it. There standing on the porch was a woman that looked to be about 45-50. She had graying hair but for all that was a very attractive woman.

"Yes?" Carol said.

"Ms Anderson?" the woman asked.

"Yes," Carol Anne said, becoming wary.

"Forgive me for barging in, my name is Claire Wayne; I'm Jason Wayne's Mom."

"Oh," Carol Anne said, "You'd better come in."

The woman followed her into the house and said, in passing, how lovely the house and land were.

"They were my Father's pride and joy," Carol Anne said.

"Ah," Claire said, "You live with your parents."

"No," Carol Anne continued, "He died in an automobile accident and my Mom got sick shortly after that and, after a long, long illness, died."

"I'm so sorry," Claire said, "I had no idea."

"I know you haven't; please forgive my manners; would you like some coffee?" Carol asked.

"I'm a kind of a tea gal myself," Claire said.

"Good," Carol said, "Me too, please come into the kitchen and I'll put the kettle on."

"You are a very lovely woman," Claire said to Carol, as they sat at the table.

Carol blushed and said 'thank you'.

"Ah, yes, Jason said that you blushed easily," Claire said.

"So, you know?" Carol asked softly.

"Well, yes," Claire said, "He and I are quite close and he has been honest with me about his, shall I say, designs on you."

Carol involuntarily giggled.

"Yes," Claire said, "He said that you giggled too."

"Oh dear!" Carol sighed.

Claire held up her hand and said: "Don't be alarmed, Ms Anderson,"

"Please, 'Carol'," Carol Anne put in, "Forgive my interruption."

"Of course, Carol," Claire said then, "But don't be alarmed. He has not told me the, shall I say 'gory details'." She laughed as she said it. Then she went on:

"But I know how very serious Jason is about this. He hasn't been very 'busy', shall I say, with girls but he is amazingly adult for all that."

"Yes, I certainly know that," Carol said.

"But I want to assure you," Claire continued. "I'm not here to root out a Mrs Robinson," she laughed and said: "You're too young and lovely to fit that role in any event. No, I wanted to meet you because I know that Jason is serious about his 'Carol Campaign', as I'm afraid he calls it."

"Ohhhh," Carol said, "How nice to be a 'campaign'!"

"You really mean that, don't you, dear?" Claire asked.

"Well, I do," Carol said. "Let me explain. When I went to the university, I devoted myself to my studies and had, allowed myself to have very little social life. It never bothered me. Then life kind of got in the way with my Dad's death and then Mom's illness. I had time for my teaching and for taking care of mom, for these past 5 years or so. It's just nice now to be Jason's 'campaign'."

"You certainly sound like you enjoy it," Claire said.

"I'm afraid that I do!" Carol said.

"I've gone my own way, you see. I don't know, men seem to sense that. I was busy with my studies, my teaching and taking care of Mom. There was no time for men. And the occasional overture from the married men around was what I'd pretty much gotten. And a home wrecker, I'm not."

"I appreciate that, sweetie," Claire said, putting her hand over Carol's. 

Then Claire got a determined look on her face and asked:

"Are you sleeping with Jason?" Claire asked. "Forgive my being forward, and I'm not trying to be confrontational. I lost Jason's Dad, much as you've lost your parents, and he and I are very close. I just decided that I had to meet you. I did kind of fear the worst."

"If I'd known you were coming," Carols said with a laugh, "I'd have expected the worst also."

"Well," Claire said then, "Are both of us girls delighted to have been wrong."

"No, Claire," Carol Anne said, "I'm not sleeping with Jason; as a matter of fact, we haven't even kissed. It's been the craziest, and loveliest 'campaign' that I've ever heard of, let alone been involved in."

"And you're pleased?" Claire asked.

"Totally!" Carol said. "It's been like a whirlwind; he's like a force of nature, and yet sensible, caring and very thoughtful."

"Yes," Claire said, "You certainly know my Jason. Do you two have plans? If you don't mind my asking."

"No, not at all," Carols said. "No, we really don't. Dating, getting to know someone with the new media tools is so different than it used to be, when I was, oh, dating and all. But no plans really. He has expressed the idea that we should kind of be cool until he graduates. He doesn't want to put me in a bad position with my job."

"Yes, he is thoughtful that way," Claire said. The she hesitated and Carol was waiting for what came next:

"Are you serious about, my son, about Jason?" she asked softly.

"Yes, I think that I am," Carol answered with a blush. 

"Good!" Claire said and smiled, "In fact, very good."

Carol at that point, launched herself at Claire and was enfolded into a huge hug.

"Thank you so much," Carol said, "For, I guess, being so thoughtful and kind about this. I can see where Jason gets his good qualities from."

"Now you're going to make me blush!" Claire said.

"May I ask?" Carols said then. 

"Yes?" Claire responded.

"Does he know you're here?" Carol continued.

"No, he doesn't, but I'll tell him; we'll talk about it. Tonight is our night out to dinner; I'll tell him then."

At that point Claire looked as though she'd just had a brilliant idea. She laughed and said:

"Why don't we do this; tonight I'm to meet him, after he finishes what he's working on today, at Regis' restaurant. Why not join us? We'll surprise him."

Carol giggled and said: "Fantastic; after all, I'm his campaign!"

"Exactly!" Claire said. 

By the time that Claire left, she and Carol Anne were like the best of girlfriends, laughing and giggling at things. Carol told Claire about her plans, that she'd finished her PhD work all but the final submitting of her dissertation, which she was working on, and wrapping up. She mentioned that she hoped to look for a university job for her future, and thought that there might be an offer coming. She was hoping.

They also talked about how they'd dress for that evening at the restaurant. They were going to dress up and present a kind of united front to Jason. Claire said that she'd pick Carol up and they agreed on the time. It would get them to the restaurant before Jason was due to arrive. 




Reaching the Teacher



They were waiting and having a glass of wine, each of them, when he arrived. He saw them sitting together and smiling at him and stopped dead in his tracks. He walked up to the table and said:

"I am so screwed!"

Both women broke into laughter. Claire got up and got a kiss from Jason. Carol Anne, completely aware of what was needed went to him next. He hugged her, held her to himself for a few seconds and she kissed his cheek.

They sat, and Claire said: "I guess that I should apologize for bringing your first kiss about that way."

"So, you two have been conspiring against me?" Jason asked with a smile.

"We girls don't, as you say, 'conspire," Claire said to him pleasantly.

"No," Carol chimed in "No 'campaigns' here."

"Mother!" he said with fake exasperation, gazing all the while at the brilliant grin on Carol's face. He laughed and leaned over and kissed her cheek. 

He continued to glance at Carol and she made eyes at him.

"Are you two going to behave," Claire asked, "Or do we need to adjourn you to a motel room right now?"

"Mother!" he said again, and the two women burst into a laugh

Then he said, as a mock complaint: "I haven't ever even properly kissed her; she's my teacher, Mom!"

"And I suppose that's the basis on which you've waged your, I guess successful, campaign?" Claire asked sweetly.

"Well, not exactly!" he answered and they laughed again.

"Okay, honey," Claire said then, kissing him on his cheek, "We'll lay off. But we thought it would be such a nice surprise!"

"Well, it is that," he said, "Me joining for dinner two outstandingly beautiful women."

Carol giggled and then Claire made eyes at him. 

They ordered then and went on to other topics. Claire asked Carol about progress on he PhD.

"I'm almost finished, thank heavens," she said with a sigh. "I am working on my dissertation now. Almost finished."

"At the university?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, "They're noted for their American history, especially the Civil War era."

"Gee," he said then, "We'll both be students at the university at the same time. I have a scholarship to go there and wrestle for them."

"Oh, yes, Carol," Claire put in, ,"You must go and watch him wrestle. He's good and it's very exciting."

"And I guess," Carol said with a gleam in her eye, "Sexy!"

Claire laughed and admitted: "Yes, it is that; I mean young men in tight clothes, grappling and all."

"You two are amazing," he said, "It's as though you grew up together and have been buddies for ages."

Both women gave him a blazing smile at that point, and nodded. Claire put her hand over Carol's and smiled with her. 

"But what is your dissertation about?" Claire asked.

"It's about Nathan Bedford Forest, the rebel cavalry commander," Carol said, "And I'm afraid that he's not going to get a very good report from me, because of the kind of man he was before and after the war."

Their dinners came at that point and they lapsed into a companionable silence.

The dinner was really a huge success. The three of them got along quite, amazingly well. They sat over a cup of coffee after they were finished. Claire asked Carol:

"Have weekend plans, dear?" 

"Oh, it's my spruce up weekend," Carol answered with some distaste. "You know, mow the lawns, trim the things. That kind of thing."

Claire then turned to Jason and said: "Jason, why don't you go over in the morning and help her out; I know that you don't have plans for the weekend."

He smiled at the prospect, and said: "Sure, I can do that, Carol?"

"Oh, how nice," Carols said, smiling at Claire. Then to Jason she said:

"About nine o'clock? Is that okay?"

"Sure, I'll be there," he said, giving her a dazzling smile.

Claire insisted on paying the dinner bill and they were filing out. Carol walked next to her and whispered:

"Thank you so much!"

Claire understood immediately:

"Don't break him!"

Carol giggled.

Carol was in a flurry the next morning. It was 8:30 Am; she'd showered and was wandering around her bedroom naked, wondering, wondering what to where.

"I don't have anything sexy or alluring!" she wailed. 

(An inner voice chimed in:"Then you need to do some shopping, girl.")

She ended up with a pair of white shorts and a tee shirt. She went downstairs, once she was ready and waited. She also, during the night, before drifting off to sleep, had laid some plans for herself for their morning. She was looking forward to those.

Jason arrived on time, looking, she thought, casual and scrumptious in his jeans and tee shirt. The tee shirt emphasized his broad shoulders and the lean muscles of his chest and stomach.

"Oh dear!" she said to herself, "Delicious." Then with a giggle she added:

"Have a good time, Carol Anne."

"I will," was the answer that she gave herself.

She answered the door as soon as he rang the bell and let him step in. But then it was time for her plan. She simply grabbed him, and kissed him. She kissed him with all the passion that had been building for all that time. And he was ready. He responded to the kiss and she discovered immediately that Jason Wayne was a good, good kisser. 

She was transported. She gave him soft lips, slightly open at the beginning of the kiss and then forced open, by his seeking tongue. She began to suck on his tongue, as soon as it invaded her mouth and she made little throat noises.

The kiss broke and she looked at him with undisguised love in her face. "Oh, it's been such a long time, and that was really, really fine!"

He kissed her again. It was another long and wet, passionate kiss. When they broke from this kiss, she was a bit out of breath.

"You take my breath away."

"I planned to!" he replied.

Then it was time for Carol Anne's plan. She smiled at him and began to sink to her knees. He regarded her with a smile and she said, cooing to him, as she simply swept down his body, never losing contact with hers:

"Please, please, please let me! I'm hungry for this! Hungry for you! Please don't say 'no'!"

"Teacher knows best!" he responded.

"Oh now she does," was her reply, and she was already unbuckling his belt. 

She had his pants down and off in a moment, shoes and socks gone too. 

"Oh, look at him with baby blue bikini underwear! I love your underwear."

She went for his tee shirt next. It caused him to grin at her.

"Naked?" he asked.

"The student gets to be naked," she said. "The teacher's going to teach here in a minute."

"Oh, good," Was his answer. 

With a fierce grin on her face, she grabbed his underwear waist band with her teeth and began to pull them down.

"Don't fuckin' believe it!" he rasped.

"Language!" she intoned, stopping her assault on his bikinis long enough to say it. 

"Sorry, Ms. Anderson!" he said with a smile, as she got the bikinis down to his ankles and had him step out of them.

"Naked, naked, naked!" she sang, in a sing-song voice. "This Jason is naked! The wrestler is naked! I've got him here naked! Naked, naked, naked, and now Carol the Mouth is back!"

As soon as she said it, she clamped her mouth on the head of his fairly large cock.

"Ohhhhhhh!" was his reply, as she made love to the head of his cock, paying close attention to the underside of it. 

"Quick maybe this time," she said, "More slowly next time!"

"Next time!" he echoed.

But his thoughts were cut off by a sudden movement of her head. With an adept movement, she plunged her head down and took his cock all the way into her mouth, down into the beginning of her throat.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhh gawwwwwwd!" he wailed.

"Master is pleased!" she asked, grinning at him from her kneeling position, and playing with his wet cock all the while.

"Master is being sucked within an inch of his life!" he said with another corresponding groan, as she assaulted the head of his prick again and then, after working on the head, performed the same head plunge as before. 

"He smells so nice and soapy clean, show showery!" she said, delighted. Then she went on:

"But I want him sometime sweaty, and funky and all kinky smelling. I want him smelling like a not recently washed Jason prick!"

"Language!" he said to her.

"Oops," she said, "I'd better just concentrate on my job here." And then it was back to the head of his cock and another plunge.

He was getting close to cumming from her lively sucking, and then she backed her head off, and said:

"Intermission, sir!" 

She moved his hips so that he was standing with his ass in her face.

"Lovely, lovely ass; my man has a lovely, lovely ass," she sang next.

"'My man', yes!" he said affirming what she'd said. 

But then it was lapsing into noises for him again, as she began to lick at his ass crack, eventually inserting her tongue in his ass crack and licking his star.

"Ohhhhhhh, teacher!" he wailed.

"Teacher is busy, sorry," she said, and she turned him around again with one final kiss to his ass.

"Grand finale now, big guy!' she said, going for the head of his cock again.

Only this time, when she plunged her head down and took all of his cock in her mouth, she reached around and maneuvered one of her fingers into his ass hole.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!" he groaned as he began to cum in her mouth. 

She sucked and licked at him and cleaned him but he was impatient and said:

"Get up here, woman!"

She stood up and waded into his kiss. He held nothing back and she was thrilled. She only broke the kiss long enough to say:

"Jason, I love you! I do!"

"Never let you go," he struggled to say, "A gorgeous woman, with tits and ass like you who can suck a cock that way! Never let you go."

"Good," Carol Anne answered with a giggle.

They held each other for a long time, when finally he said:

"I guess I need to be shown where the mower is."

"Oh, yes," she answered with a smile, "That's why you're here!"

"Well not really!" he said and she giggled.

She showed him the shed, and they agreed that he'd mow and then put the mower away, and do the trimming. She said that she'd have lunch for him.

She watched him, always smiling, from the kitchen window. He mowed with his shirt off, and she loved the look of it. She was also grinning about part two of her plan. 

He went from the back to the side and then around the front and finally the other side. Then he was finished and hosed the mower down, and took it back to the shed. He got off of the mower and opened the wide shed side doors and found her.

She was smiling. She'd put on a pair of hand cuffs and had them attached to a hook and chain that was suspended from a beam, standing on a kind of stool. She was naked. Written on her face were the words:

'Carol Anne Anderson, American History'

Then scrawled on her stomach were the words:

"Fuck the teacher, please!"

"Hi, Jason, sir!" she said softly.

"Well, well look at this!" he said walking toward her, her eyes big and wide and watching him.

"What do we have here?" he mused, running a hand across her naked belly to her hip and then sliding the hand around to her plump ass cheeks. "Ms, Anderson, is it? History teacher?" he said.

"Yes, sir!" she said.

"Well what are you doing, Ms Anderson, up there looking beautiful and vulnerable as hell?" he wanted to know.

"Oh, just kind of hanging around," she said, and broke out laughing, as did he, while she was saying it.

"Yep," he said, "Kind of vulnerable!" When he'd said that, Jason gave her a slap on the ass.

She let out a long kind of screech but ended smiling.

"Hmm," he said, "Very nice sound from a teacher, and he slapped her ass again and once more after that, getting a similar reaction.

She piped up then and said: "I'll get you for that, Mister!"

Jason laughed heartily. "What was that you said, Ms. Anderson, Ms hanging here naked with no protection Anderson, Ms Jason can do whatever he wants Anderson? What was that?"

"Oh nothing really!" she said in a tiny soft voice.

"I think that Ms Anderson, the teacher, needs a bite in the ass for that; don't you, Carol Anne?" he asked politely.

She answered: "Jason, Ms. Anderson this naked teacher needs whatever you say that she needs."

"Ah," he said grinning, "That's my girl. But you know what? You know what, Teach?"

"What, sir?" she asked, almost holding her breath."

"First of all, I'm sweaty, and you said that you like sweaty men," he said then.

"I like you sweaty! Tasty!" she said quietly.

"Well, I think that we can add another kind of flavor to my then before we let Carol the Mouth work her magic again," he concluded for them.

"Yes, sir!" she said meekly.

"But secondly, I think that right now, right this minute, this is what you need."

Once he'd said that, he grabbed a chair from the side and moved it in front of her.

"What?" she asked quietly and, then seeing where he was putting the chair, she said:

"Oh, Jason, are you really going to do that?"

"You bet teacher!" he said, grinning at her.

"I love you, Jason," she said fervently, "Not because of what you're going to do but because I do."

"I know, honey," he said, "This is just for you."

By then he was sitting in the chair in front of her, facing the curls of her dark pubic hair. He took a leg by the thigh and hoisted it over his shoulder.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh!" was her immediate response, repeated, as the other leg was hoisted over the other shoulder.

Then he leaned forward and kissed her pubic curls, taking the opportunity to run his tongue through the nest of curly hair next.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" she wailed. "What . . .whaaaaaaat?"

"Kind of noisy, teach," he said.

"Sorry, sir!" she said contritely.

"No, don't get me wrong, Teach, I like the noise; I love your noises! You make them; you have a party with them. We're way out here and no one will hear you. So, let me do this."

Saying that he stuck his tongue into the cleft of her vaginal lips, getting another loud response from her.

Then he looked at her, kissed her bare stomach and said:

"Okay, no more fooling, now we get serious."

He grabbed her by the ass cheeks and pulled her softly against his face, with his tongue repeating the action of licking the lips of her vagina. Then he was penetrating with his tongue, working it up one side of her pussy lips and down the other. He sucked one of her pussy lips into his mouth and worried it with his lips and tongue.

She was all but shouting by this time.

"Woman, you're loud!" he said.

"Yes, but . . .I'm being eaten so welllllllllllllllllll!" she said, ending with a loud noise.

He went back to the eating. "What's going to happen when I find your . . ." he said and then: "Oh there it is!" putting his lips on and around her clit.

Carol Anne shrieked her joy at that point and he worked on her lovely button with his lips and tongue constantly. She was shaking at that point, so that he had to hold on to her. She fairly bellowed her way into her orgasm, with him clutching her by the ass, holding her to his face.

"OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH GGGGGGGAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWDDDDDDDDDD!" she wailed, as she came. 

Nor did he let her rest. He had her down off of the hook in a trice, and her hands free. He turned her around and said. Grab the seat of the tractor and bend over.

"Yes, sir," she said, still panting. "Anything! Hear that word, Jason, I mean it."

She looked over her shoulder and saw him taking his clothes off until he was down to his baby blue bikinis, and these were quickly taken off.

"Here comes the student," he said, and she wiggled her ass at him.

"Target in sight," he said then and had her by the hips.

He got another loud screech from her as he sunk his stiff cock into her wet pussy. She wiggled against him, and kind of chanted at him:

"Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it!", as he began to fuck her quickly.

He came and held her to himself, bringing her along with him and then he slumped against her back. His sweat was dripping off of him and onto her back.

"Oh, yes, Jason, my love!" she said softly, kissing the back of his hand, still around her front. 

"One more thing, Ms Anderson," Jason said to her softly.

"Anything," she cooed at him.

"Well I can fulfill your wish for something sweaty now; sweaty and tasting of other things as well," he whispered to her.

"You're gonna play 'feed the teacher'?" she asked innocently.

"Take a seat here and the show will begin," he quipped.

She sat in front of him and to begin, once again, to use her fantastic talent at oral sex on him. She gazed up at him for a few seconds and seemed caught in a kind of dream state.

"What is it, Carol Anne?" he asked, concerned.

"Oh, Jason, it's me; I just never figured for this. I mean, never planned on being someone's love, and it was okay. I had other things for my time, and this is so nice. This is so wonderful. I have to say that I love you. I just have to. And I know, I know that I'm older and that's a problem. I don't forget that."

He said then in a gruff voice: "If you ever mention that again, which is no concern at all, I swear that I'll spank you."

"Really?" she asked.

"Really," he answered. "Work!"

She bent her head in obedience and took the crown of his cock into her mouth:

"Mmmmmm, Master's tasty!" she said, around the cock in her mouth.

"Tasty, tasty, tasty, tasty, tasty!" she sang them, licking his cock as she did.

She began to basically suck him off in the same way that she had previously. It was as good, if not better. He lightly put his hands on her head but discovered that he needed no coercion to get her to pull him frequently into her throat.

"Keep you around just for this!" he said, and then "Cumming nowwwwwwwww!"

She took it all from him, and then, to his surprise, spit it out onto his stomach, just so that she could lick it off again.

"Whoooo!" she said, out of breath for the moment, "Tastes even better this way."

He pulled her up to him and kissed her, putting his arms around her and holding her close. 

"Never gonna let you go, Carol Anne," he said, "Never gonna let the teacher go."

"I need to get dressed," she said and took her clothes and walked from the shed toward the house. She stopped in the doorway and, with an innocent look on her face, said to him:

"By the way, Jason, did I ever tell you that I'm older than you are?"

"Why you!" he wailed.

She grinned at him and bent over to wiggle her ass cheeks at him. She screamed because he was already moving in her direction. He caught her and was laughing full out, when he got her, struggling over his knee. He began with a significant whack to her naked ass. She squealed as though she were being killed.

"Quiet, woman!" he growled at her. "Or I'll continue."

"Yes, sir," she said meekly.

Then he began to spank her again. 

"But . . .but you said . . ." she wailed.

"I changed my mind, ass wiggler!" and he finished the spanking. But after the spanking, he lowered her to the floor and made love to her again.

"No work getting done now!" she whispered to him.

"Lots of work getting done now!" he countered.

He left after lunch, leaving her with a kiss and a hug. She held onto him tight and said:

"I do love you, Jason."

"I know and it fills my life!" he said, kissing her, "I love you too."

It was a little later, she was reading, that there was the sound of a car approaching and then the doorbell. It was Claire standing there.

Carol Anne opened the door and realized that she was blushing.

Claire laughed, "Hey, girl," she said, "I was going to ask how this morning was but your blushing tells me everything that I need to know."

"Ohhhh," Carol said and put her arms around Claire. She spoke into Claire's shoulder.

"I've hardly ever taken time or given thought to, you know, love, emotion, sex, passion any of that stuff. This is all so heady for me. Don't be angry!"




Reaching the Teacher



"Angry?" Claire said, kissing the side of Carol's face, "I couldn't be more pleased if I had picked the woman for him myself."

"I'm sorry to be such a weepy, poor hostess," Carol went on, "Come in for tea."

They sat and drank their tea. "He was okay, was he?" Carol asked.

"On top of the world," Claire said. "It's a wonder, I've seen him down and very silent often, this whole thing, you have caused him to blossom in a way that I only hoped would one day happen."

Carol blushed.

"And you blush!" Claire said, "Good for you!"

They talked for a while and genuinely enjoyed each other's company. Just before she left, Claire told Carol that she'd mentioned to Jason that she was coming over to see Carol that afternoon.

"He called me a 'conspirator'!" Claire said with a grin.

Carol grinned also, as she gave the older woman a 'farewell' hug. She said into Claire's ear:

"He doesn't stand a chance!"

"I guess not," Claire said, looking into Carol's face, and she said softly: "Smitten?"

"In love, I'm afraid!" was Carol's soft answer.

"Good! So is he!" Claire said, leaving.

It was a few weeks later that Carol told Jason, when they were together, that she'd been asked to be a chaperone for the up-coming senior prom dance.

"Oh," he said, "I was kind of hoping that you'd go with me!"

She squealed: "A date? You mean a prom date? Do you?"

"Well, yes," he said, smiling at her enthusiasm.

When he'd gone, she called Claire immediately. She was breathless, as she explained to Claire that Jason had asked her to the prom. Claire almost burst with enthusiasm.

"I thought he might not go!" Claire said.

"Well," Carol explained, "I told him that I was to be a chaperone and he asked me, I quite squealed with joy!"

"Shall we shop for a dress?" Claire asked.

"Oh, you are the very best!" Carol said intensely, "Can we?"

They made it a girl friend project for themselves, complete with luncheon etc. They ended up choosing a floor length pink dress, a bit on the tight side through the hips, with a scoop neck that showed some cleavage.

"Too much?" Carol asked Claire, as she modeled it.

"The others will be taking girls to the prom," Claire answered, "My Jason will be the one with the woman! I think you need to look that way!"

Carol grabbed her and pressed her into a hug. "I love you, Claire!" she said with unfeigned delight.

"I love you too, honey!" Claire whispered back.

On the day of the prom, again Claire showed up to help Carol dress. She indicated that Jason was doing fine with his tux and all but she'd thought that Carol might need a hand.

Carol was really grateful: "Oh, thank you, I am all in a tizzy here."

"Well, let's get you ready," Claire said. 

They worked at it, hair, makeup etc and had Carol ready on time.

"Dazzling!" was Claire's assessment. 

"We might be late tonight, Claire," Carol said, blushing.

"As late as you want, honey; I understand; just take care of our man," Claire answered with a hug.

"That I will, I promise," Carols said, returning the hug. 

They were the talk of the prom. He looked great in a tux. Carol Anne wore her floor length tight pink dress with its scoop neck to show some cleavage, and was a positive siren. Word got around that someone was taking a faculty member to the prom as a date. Everyone was buzzing about it. 

At the very beginning there was a formal introduction for the prom goers. It was styled so that the men came from the left and the women from the right. They then met in the center and walked together to their table. Because of his last name, Jason and Carol were among the last to be called. 

By then a lot of people knew that it was Jason who was bringing a faculty member. When it was their turn, the announcer made the announcement:

"Mr. Jason Wayne, co-captain of the wrestling team, letterman, member of the national honor society, planning to attend the state university on a wrestling scholarship, and this evening Jason is escorting Ms. Carol Anne Anderson, member of our history faculty.

Carol and Jason Came out and met in the middle. As everyone else had, they hugged, upon meeting, and he kissed her.

The place went up for grabs. The students were cheering and there were whistles and pandemonium. Carol Anne was a very popular teacher, and Jason, though quiet, was really well liked.

During one of the first dances, as Jason held on to her and and danced with her, she said into his ear:

"We've caused quite a buzz!"

"No, Ms. Carol Anne," he corrected, "You have caused quite a buzz with that delicious looking pink gown. And look at me now holding all this tits and ass in my arms!"

She giggled into his ear, and held him closer. 

After just a little the principal, John Dawson, came over to ask Jason's permission to dance with Carol. He gave it and smiled.

"Quite lovely!" John said, as they danced. "And causing quite a stir!"

"Oh, John," she said plaintively, "Please don't spoil it for me; it's being so nice."

"Carol, I wouldn't think of it. I've never seen you so radiant. I'm just sorry to lose you from our staff but I know that you're moving on to such great things. And what a bold statement; you've always been so quiet with your wall to wall competence, and now you come to the prom on the arm of one of our premier students."

She smiled at him and said: "Yes, isn't it grand?"

He laughed, and agreed: "Yes, Carol, it is that; it is grand." He laughed then and said: "People will be talking about it forever."

Carol giggled and kissed his cheek. Then she hastened to say:

"I've given Millie Brown his work and tests and quizzes to review for a grade. I'm not compromising anything, and this is really our first 'date'."

He stopped her at that point: "Carol, you don't need to say anything to this old man at all. Just enjoy yourself!"

Carol did. She enjoyed herself at the prom a great deal. When it was finished, she had Jason take her to her farm. They danced some more and then danced in the moon light, in her screen house. After a few dances, Carol stepped away and said:

"Do you mind terribly if we dance a little more?"

"Not in the least, lovely lady of mine!" he said.

She smiled at him and undid the zipper at the side of her dress, letting it fall and putting it on a chair. She was wearing a pink bra, pink panties and pink thigh highs. Then she went to him.

"Siren!" he said, enfolding her into his arms.

"We're going to have an 'anything' night for you, sir!" she said.

"Part of the 'anything' will be my telling you that one of these years soon, I'm going to marry you. You're not getting away from me! Just not!"

"Ohh," she said softly into his ear: "What a lovely thing to say. I think that I'm going to cry.

"Don't cry, teacher!" he said softly, consolingly. 

"I never, ever thought that anyone was going to come for me," she said into his ear, sobbing, and then there you were, and you were,well, perfect in approaching me and bringing me out."

She leaned back and looked at him then and said: "And, Jason, I'm not going to hurry you or be demanding of what you say. This is being so nice on a day to day basis. I just love being with you, especially this way." 

She licked his ear and said: "This teacher is caught!"

"She's also almost naked," he said, dancing with her, before taking her in and up to the bedroom.

He called his Mom later and said he'd be home in a bit but she told him to take his time. They spent some more time together on the screen porch, the two of them naked.

When he was leaving, she kissed him and told him that it had been one of the nicest nights of her life.

She had a date with Claire the next day to talk about it all, and they had a regular 'girlfriends' time about it.

Epilogue:

Carol Anne was finished at the high school. She'd been given a contract to teach in the history department of the university, now that her dissertation was submitted and accepted.

It was then only a short time 'til the end of school. A bright but a sorrowful time for Carol Anne. She genuinely liked her teaching there but saw the job at the university as a great opportunity. 

"And," she told herself. "He'll be there."

What he'd said to her about 'marriage' was never far from her mind from that day on.

Their relationship blossomed, as did the 'girlfriend' relationship between Carol Anne and Claire Wayne.

Jason went to the university in the fall, and she began her teaching there. She had the intense pleasure of watching him wrestle for the university team, and, joined by Claire, agreed with her assessment of how sexy it looked.

The two of them kept their relationship fairly quiet for a while, but only for a while. When Jason was a sophomore, he asked Carol Anne to marry him. In a loud explosion of emotion, she accepted. 

Jason lettered at the university in wrestling and majored in computer science. When he graduated, he was given the position as assistant wrestling coach. Eventually he started his own computer business with a friend, helping companies protect their computers from invasion.

Carol Anne's relationship with her mother is still one of the special things in her life, along with her Jason, and little Claire and Jennie. She still teaches at the university. 

The End.