A 15 year old drama student forces his teacher to fix his grade.
You know, things were okay until I got Miss Jedson for my sophomore stage performance class. I had heard rumors about her. She was a real looker, but over the top in bitchiness. So you can imagine my immediate attempts to switch or drop the class in favor of the less hot, but still nice Mrs. Hans. And my deeper dismay, nay, my anger, at the denial for a class switch. So I go, unwillingly to her class every day. No surprise, about halfway through the semester, I’m failing her class. So I try talking to her to let me drop it, and…well, I guess things went from okay, to grin-worthy.
“So, I think it would really benefit us both if you would talk to the counselors and let me drop this class. That way, neither of us is wasting our better spent time here” I thought it was a pretty logical appeal to her sense of time management, until she gave me that look, and folded her hands under her chin with a sigh.
“I’m sure you had all this planned out before coming to see me?” she paused her to observe my slight nod and cocky smirk I used for everyone, “But the simple fact is, I’m getting paid to keep you in this class, and pass you. So no, I will not allow, or help you to leave my class. You will be here every day for class, and starting today, you will stay an hour after with me to bring your grade to par. Is that clear, or should I call Coach Meader to let him know you quit the baseball and track teams?” GOD what a bitch!
I shook my head slightly, and left her room. Show up after class…yeah right! Boy was I steamed! But Coach would kill me if I had to quit the team, so I finished out my day and trudged back out to the Fine Arts center to deal with Miss Bitchy.
In a record breaking five minutes of the first time I stayed after, she had killed my boner, and all thought I might have ever had of wanting to pass her class the easy way. Grading papers is the most tedious, pointless, self inflicted hell teachers could ever come up with! Add to that her coming up with all sorts of worksheets that talked about dead theater fags that I had never heard of, and you have what I spent the rest of my Wednesday afternoons doing. By the end of the semester, I was still failing, mostly due to my inability to concentrate on my work when she was in the room. But Coach Meader had been running us hard in track, and keeping me nearly every night for softball practices, so when it came time to meet with her for our final afterschool session, I was so exhausted, and short tempered, I didn’t want to exist anymore, much less deal with the Queen of Bitches.
She was stretching to write the Final Exam date and place on the top of the white board. It really gave me a good chance to ogle her, so I did. She was still young, as teachers go, probably about twenty-five, putting her ten years my senior. Her hair was a golden blonde and it waved perfectly down to her mid shoulders, framing the face that still showed her youth. Her eyes could pierce steel with the sharpness of the blue, and she had a petite frame. She had to be at least a C-cup, with legs that went all the way to heaven. She was the object of many a boy’s fantasies, my own included, so it wasn’t really surprising that I had to fight to hide a boner when she turned to me and narrowed those soulless pits that she called eyes. Her white blouse had been unbuttoned a bit more to show a bit too much cleavage for school, and a red cami peaked out at me. And that skirt could do men harm from blood loss in the brain! She wore a set of navy thigh high stockings and brown Doc Martins, making it look almost like a school girl uniform. Wouldn’t it be just like her to dress to tease us poor kids who could only jerk it off to her sneer?
“No doubt, you will blame you dismal performance in yesterday’s improve assignment was due to someone else’s fault, but the fact remains, with the scores on your tests, and performance, the only way you will pass this semester is if you score 230 percent on your final exam” she was so smug, I just about lost it, “So the question is, should I go ahead and record your failing grade and notify the Coach, or would you like to waste more of our time so splendidly?” With that, she turned and bent over her desk to record my failing grade for the semester, and my temper broke as the blood rushed to my southern head. Closing the distance between us in a few long strides and shoving her against the desk, I was rewarded with a gasp and slight cry laden with shock.
“You are going to pass me, and that’s the final decision” I growled, my torso lying along her back.
Her voice was soft and squished; no doubt her tits were making it hard to breathe. “What are you going to do? Rape me? I’ll scream and you will be arrested like the perverted delinquent you are!”
“Scream. There’s no one here but us. And I like screams.” I yanked my jeans down to my knees, my cock head teasing her silk covered cunt.
“Don’t! Let me go!” her voice gave it away that she was actually starting to think I really would rape her, and by this point, I had dragged those silk thong underwear down to her knees, one of my hands kneading her ass roughly.
I flipped her mini up onto her back and forced her knees open, then lifted one onto the desk, positioning at her hole, whose glistening wetness belied her protests. With one swift drive, I buried my teenage cock into my bitch of a teacher’s twat. It was heaven, and I almost didn’t want to move for fear of losing the bliss of her surrounding me. But move I did, and I was rewarded tenfold as her pussy tightened around me and sucked at my shaft, her body begging to be violated. I pulled almost all the way out, listening to her tiny protesting moans, holding her hips with one hand, her wrists with the other, and drove back into her, harder and deeper than before, starting up a rhythm of slamming against her.
“Oh God! Oh God! Please! Stop this!” although her pleas were futile, they were still nice to hear, punctuated by moans and the slapping of my hips against her full ass cheeks. I pivoted my hips to get a different angle and just about blew my load when she screamed in obvious pleasure and her attitude changed completely. “Ohhhhh!!! FUCK yeah!! Right there! Harder! Ah! Ah! Ah!” I guess I found the right button to make my grade. I pounded along hitting that magic little G-spot until her voice cracked and she shoved back against me, her insides rippling in a most sensational fashion, in what I presume was her first orgasm of the night. She shuddered and moaned and gasps and squeezed around me so tight I slid right out! The danger had passed, so I stood to the side, sitting on my desk.
“Oh…my god…” she finally stood, her skirt covering herself, but not hiding her cum shine drooling down her leg. She stared at me for a moment, and then looked into my still ready lap. “You aren’t…you didn’t finish? “ She sounded hurt.
“No…I jerk off before I come here. So it will take more than that to finish me.” I was smug, and I think I had every right to be! But it was my turn to cry out in shocked pleasure as she dropped to her knees and impaled her face on my twitching cock. Oh shit could she suck a cock! She must have been a pro. Her tongue worked magic as it swirled around my crimson head, making me shiver and jump with every move.
“Oh fuck….” I rested my hands on the back of her golden head as she set to bouncing along my length, sucking better than anything I had ever felt, aside from her cunny. Her lips dragging along my shaft, and her tongue working its magic all around my cock head drove me nearly to the edge and I shoved her head down until she made a small noise and I felt her throat pushing against the tip of my cock as she gagged, trying to force my dick out, and I lost it. I shot my load right down the throat of my gorgeous, bitchy teacher.
“Mm…mmmm…you naughty boy you. How can you have so much cum in those balls? They haven’t even dropped completely yet!” She swallowed every drop of my sperm and that nearly brought me to erection again. She stood and moved behind her desk, pulling her thong back up with a smile. “I will see what I can do about your semester average, but you will have to retake the class. I cannot fix every grade you flunked.
“Thanks Miss Jedson. I’m uh…sorry about the rape.”
She laughed, clear like a bell, “You silly boy. Run along before I call the cops.”
I pulled up my jeans and grabbed my bag, smirking to myself as I passed the doorway. Things would not be the same next semester. That much at least was certain. “I expect you here every Wednesday still.” She called after me. GOD what a bitch!