Must Be Something Wrong with Me

None of the girls in the school had ever been this bold, this blunt. Well, actually, Tracy Flick had been. But, he had never acquiesced to her flirtations, her suggestions. It wasn't worth the risk of losing his job, his reputation.

But, Emily had graduated. She was no longer a student of his, and she was eighteen. A little innocent fun can't hurt anyone. "Alright, but for just for one minute and then I have to finish my shopping. We go our separate ways."

"Oh goodie!" She had figured that her visit home was going to be rather boring. This was a nice little momentary dalliance before bringing home the milk.

He pulled the chips away, and Emily's eyes widened with delight.

Mr. McAllister felt really quite uncomfortable. He had never just stood there, like this, for a woman, displaying through his pants his erection for her, and certainly never in a public place. He wasn't sure if he was being punished or rewarded. On the one hand, it was quite flattering for such a pretty girl to enjoy looking at your erection. On the other hand, he felt terribly awkward and embarrassed for having developed it, and now having to display it for her, right in the supermarket.

Emily stared with amused delight at his embarrassment. It was amazing how long a minute will last when all you are doing is waiting for it to pass.

She started to reach out for it but a mother with her daughter turned down the aisle. Mr. McAllister started to cover himself up, but Emily shook her head. That wasn't the deal. No hiding himself for one full minute.

Mr. McAllister picked up the bag of chips again, but this time he brought the bag close to his face, pretending to be studying the ingredients, hoping that neither the mother nor the daughter would look at his pants or, more specifically, his bulging crotch. He tried to alter the context, the focus, by saying, "I don't think these will be good for you, dear."

Emily played along, but with a different spirit. "Do you know what I would like, daddy? I would like a big hot dog! No, a sausage, a big thick long one. Oh, and do they have bananas here? I love bananas. And, maybe a cucumber, or a pickle. A really big, juicy sweet pickle. Oh daddy, can I have a big one, please? Can I please?"

Mr. McAllister's face went deep red as she prattled on. The mother clearly found the dialogue to be confusing, if not oddly disturbing. The daughter was oblivious. The good news was that it did draw their attention away from him and toward Emily. By the time they cleared the aisle, the minute was long gone.

"Alright then, Emily, funs over, now let us finish our shopping."

"It was fun seeing each other again, though, wasn't it Mr. McAllister?"

"Yes, yes, it was nice."

Emily went up on her tip toes again, whispered into his ear, "I especially liked seeing your pickle," and gave him a peck goodbye as she lightly, briefly laid her fingers on his crotch. Mr. McAllister flinched at her touch, but he did not pull away. He found the little minx to be quite intriguing, if not pleasurable, but he was also grateful that it was over. She was definitely trouble, exactly what the principal had been warning him about.

He finished his shopping and drove back to his apartment. He felt good to have walked away. When in doubt, leave before any trouble develops, but he had to admit that the little nymphet remained on his mind as he drove home.

As he carried a couple of bags of groceries up to his house, he heard Emily say, "So, this is where you live, Mr. McAllister?"

He almost dropped the bags. "Emily, you followed me home?"

She had indeed. She did leave him alone through the rest of his shopping, but she also couldn't get him out of her mind, or at least the bulge in his trousers. He was one penis that she had longed for throughout high school, fantasized about, yearned for. She had restrained herself during high school, but seeing him once again in the market, or more accurately, seeing the outline of his erection through his pants, brought back such a flood of memories, memories of wishes and desires. Can you blame the girl for at least considering the possibility?

She had purchased her milk and waited for him in her car, outside the market, so that she could follow him home.

"I thought you might need help carrying your bags in."

That was a pretty lame excuse, to say the least. "Emily, I'm not stupid."

She smiled flirtatiously at him. "Well, of course not, Mr. McAllister, you're a teacher!" She reached into one of his bags. He couldn't hardly stop her, as his hands were full. She pulled out one of the fresh vegetables he purchased: a long, thick cucumber. "I should at least help you carry this in. It looks awfully big." She slid her fingers up and down its length. The imagery was rather obvious. "It must be hard to walk around with one so big and hard like this."

Mr. McAllister looked up and down the street. He couldn't imagine what a neighbor might be thinking if one saw him with this young lady, dressed in her uniform, masturbating a cucumber in his front lawn. "Please, Emily, the neighbors."

She ignored his plea. In fact, she shifted the cucumber to her left hand and boldly reached out to lightly slide her fingers up and down his crotch. "I bet yours is as big as this cucumber."

"Emily!" Mr. McAllister did step back, but she just stepped forward, continuing to caress and explore the front of his slacks, right in the middle of his front lawn. This would indeed draw quite a bit of curiosity from a neighbor, and most likely serious concern. Here was Mr. McAllister, a teacher at the local high school, being fondled by a petite girl, dressed in a school girl's uniform. There was no mistaking what was happening, yet in fact it would have been a mistake to have reached the obvious conclusion.

"Emily, please, please, somebody will see you. This isn't good."

"Well, Mr. McAllister, perhaps we should go inside? I would really love to see your home."

Girls from the high school would at times show up at his door, always with some silly excuse and usually hinting at the possibility of something else, if he let them come in. Tracy had been the boldest, requesting a private tutoring session. He had never let any of them in. He knew that if any one of them subsequently made an accusation of an indiscretion or abuse, whether true or false, he would not be able to defend himself, having allowed the girl into his home. But, Emily was not a current student. She was eighteen years old. And, besides, none of the high school girls had ever actually fondled him in his front yard! He really needed to get off the front lawn, out of the sight of his neighbors' eyes. "Yes, well, let's go inside and talk about this." He turned and proceeded to the front door, his growing erection pointing the way. As he fumbled with his keys, he further clarified with Emily, "Now, Emily, I need to talk to you. We are going to talk, and that's all."

Emily took the keys from his hand. He was having considerable difficulty, due in part to holding two heavy shopping bags with one arm, but there was another growing problem. "Let me help you with that, Mr. McAllister." He was grateful for that. Anything to get off the porch as soon as possible was appreciated.

As Emily bent over to insert the key into the lock, she pushed her bottom back into his crotch, as she had done earlier in the store. This time Mr. McAllister did move away. She looked back over her shoulder, smiled, wiggled her bottom, and turned the key. She opened the door for him to step inside. As he walked by she patted him on the bottom.

She followed Mr. McAllister into the kitchen, where he deposited the heavy bag onto the counter. He turned back to Emily. "Now Emily, we really do need to talk."

However, as soon as he caught Emily's eyes, he stopped. Emily now had the smaller end of the cucumber in her mouth, smiling through her fully stretched open mouth, her hazel eyes twinkling as she slowly slid the cucumber in and out of her mouth, like it was a cock going in and out, in and out. Mr. McAllister was speechless.

Emily pulled the cucumber from her mouth. "Do you think yours is as big as this, Mr. McAllister?"

He knew he wouldn't be using that cucumber in his salad. "Emily, please, this just isn't right."

"But, Mr. McAllister, that's what makes it all the more fun."

"Your parents would be very disappointed in me, and in you."

"Mr. McAllister, haven't you once had the fantasy of doing it with one of your students?"

Being now in his own home, secluded from prying eyes and ears, he was able to speak more freely. "Well, yes, of course, Emily. I suspect all teachers do."

She asked more softly, "Did you ever think about doing it with me?"

"Emily, please."

"But, all we're doing is talking, Mr. McAllister. You said you wanted to talk."

"I wanted to talk to you, Emily."

"I want you to talk to me too, Mr. McAllister. I want you to tell me if you ever had any fantasies about me."

For someone who wanted to talk, Mr. McAllister didn't know what to say.

"I bet you had lots of fantasies about Tracy, didn't you, Mr. McAllister. In fact, I bet she has even been in this house."

He could comfortably speak about that. "No, no, Emily, actually that's not true. I imagine that there were quite a bit of rumors about Miss Flick, but none of them were in fact true. I never did anything at all with her."

"Did you ever think of doing anything with her?"

"Yes, yes. I will admit to that. She was a very flirtatious girl."

"And a very pretty one?"

"Yes, yes. She was attractive."

She pretended to pout. "But, you don't think I'm at all attractive?"

"Emily, you are also a very attractive girl, you know that."

"But, you don't seem to have any fantasies about me. You know, that's a very hurtful, humiliating thing to say to a girl. You had all these fantasies about Tracy Flick and none about me."

"Emily, I did have fantasies about you as well. Of course I did."

Emily smiled in triumph. "Oh please, Mr. McAllister, won't you please tell me one of them?"

"Emily, I really don't think I want to do that. I don't think I should, or could, do that."

She smiled coquettishly at him. "If you tell me one of yours, I will tell you one of mine. All it will be is talk."

He really didn't think he could tell her one of his fantasies. One of them was that she got caught in the classroom window, the top half of her body was sticking out, and he came up behind her, flipped up her skirt and pulled down her panties, and then took her from behind, as she tried to keep her composure, talking to her friends down in the school yard while this unknown person fucked her from behind. Another one was less bizarre. She just had her hands tied behind her back while he titty fucked her. Perhaps the tamest fantasy was just that she came to him to ask him about what guys were like, and so he showed her his cock. But, these were really all too embarrassing to reveal. Nevertheless, his cock was now straining in his pants as he went through his list of fantasies.

"You're thinking about one of them right now, aren't you, Mr. McAllister." If there was one thing that Emily could do, it was to read men, particularly when it was sex on their minds. "You're getting even bigger and bigger in there."

He quickly covered himself with his hands.

"No, no, Mr. McAllister. I think you look even more handsome that way, showing me how big and powerful you are."

He pulled his hands away. His heart was accelerating, sweat was dripping down his side.

"One of my fantasies, Mr. McAllister, was that you squirted your big manly penis all over my face."

It wasn't a particularly elaborate fantasy. There was no context, no scenario. But, she felt the single image spoke a thousand words.

And, it certainly got Mr. McAllister thinking. Mr. McAllister had dated quite a few girls. He was good looking. He had his share of girlfriends. But no girl had ever said that to him before. He took a deep breath, his cock yearning for him to speak. He said, "Well, my fantasy was that you came to me to ask me about men."

Emily stepped forward a bit and clasped her hands behind her, slowly swinging her pert perky titties back and forth, back and forth. "And, what did I want to know?"

Mr. McAllister felt terribly embarrassed to say, but it did seem like she would not be offended. He said softly, his mouth dry, "What a man's penis was like."

Emily stepped up to him, reached out for his hand, and led him from the kitchen. She didn't know precisely where she was going, but she knew that the next room was likely to have a couch, if not a bed.

Mr. McAllister followed along, feeling now so pleased, so happy, that he had allowed her to enter the house. This was literally a dream coming true, as he watched her hips swing the plaid skirt left and right.

Emily led him into his living room, where there was indeed a couch. She brought him over to the couch, and directed him to sit down.

He did as he was directed, his slacks now jutting way out, like it was a tent with a big pole holding it up. Once he was seated, Emily said, "Mr. McAllister?"

"Yes, Emily?"

"I wonder if you could help me."

"Well, yes, dear, I am always here to help one of my better students."

"You're so good to me, Mr. McAllister. Mummy always said that if I don't know the answer to something, I should ask my teacher. Teachers know everything, and you are my most favorite teacher of all."

"Well, that's very flattering, Emily. Why don't you tell me what is on your mind."

Emily shyly cast her eyes to the floor, clasped her hands modestly before her, and said, "It's kind of difficult to talk about, Mr. McAllister."

"Emily, come here and sit on my lap."

"Oh yes sir!" She willingly complied, climbing onto his lap, her plaid skirt rising up on her lily white thighs, her soft little bottom resting on his more masculine, muscular thigh.

He placed a reassuring hand on her knee. "Now, Emily, you tell your teacher what is on your mind."

She leaned into his shoulder. "Oh, Mr. McAllister, you're such a wonderful teacher." She snuggled in closer and said most very quietly, "Mr. McAllister, I want you to tell me about a man's penis."

"The penis? You want me to explain to you about the penis?"

Emily wrapped her arms around his shoulders and looked him squarely in the eyes, pressing her young breasts into his chest. "Oh yes, Mr. McAllister, wouldn't you please? Pretty please?"

"But, honey, haven't your parents told you about such things?"

"Oh no, Mr. McAllister. Daddy says it would be inappropriate to show me his. He sent me to mummy, but she said it was all just so terribly disgusting. She didn't want to talk about men's penises. She said I should talk to daddy."

"Well, I don't know if I should talk to you about it, Emily. After all, I'm your teacher."

She returned to pouting, swinging her feet as they hung from his lap. "But, nobody else will. It's not fair! You don't want me to ask some silly boy, do you? And, well, who better to explain things than your teacher?"

"Are you really old enough to learn about this?"

"Mr. McAllister, I already told you, I'm a big girl now. I'm all eighteen and everything. I just never learned about this sort of thing. Won't you please let me see your penis?"

Mr. McAllister was enjoying this play immensely. He couldn't be happier, as was clearly suggested by his stiff protrusion. "Well, I will do it, Emily, for the sake of your education. But, we should probably keep this to ourselves. I'm not too sure your parents, or anyone else for that matter, will understand."

"Oh, it will be our secret. I promise, Mr. McAllister." She did eventually go on to tell Dr. Lowenstein, but that was understandable, and Dr. Lowenstein was herself sworn to secrecy.

"Alright then, let's see if I can be of some help." He let go of her back to reach down to his crotch to undue his belt.

"Oh no, Mr. McAllister, please, let me do it. After all, I need the practice and everything." She swung her body around so that she was sitting on his knees, facing him, each leg hanging down at his side. He leaned back and slid forward to the edge of the couch to give her more room.

It was clear that Emily didn't need any practice undoing men's trousers. "It's like I'm opening up a birthday present and it isn't even my birthday!" She almost tore away the wrapping to get to her new toy. It wasn't at all long before Mr. McAllister's stiff, hard cock was out in the open air. Emily pulled her hands away and said with considerable awe, "Oh, Mr. McAllister, I didn't think they would be so big? Are all men so big?"

Mr. McAllister was indeed a bit above average in size, but not deserving of any awards. "Oh yes, honey. Most men are as big as this."

She knew he was being rather modest. She tentatively reached out and wrapped a hand around the shaft. "Golly, I don't think I could fit something this big in me."

"Oh now don't be afraid, Emily. You will be able to get even bigger things than that in there. You could probably have even gotten that cucumber in there."

She playfully slapped him on the chest. "Oh Mr. McAllister, don't say things like that. That's a terribly naughty idea."

"Would you like me to explain all of the parts to you?"

"Oh yes, would you? I would be so grateful."

"I'd be glad to dear. Why don't you sit down next to me on the couch. Here, kneel down here, right next to me, and I will point out each part. And, to be sure that you're paying attention, I want you to kiss each part I tell you, so that I know you know precisely where it is."

"Oh yes sir, that's a wonderful idea." She crawled off his lap and got onto the couch beside him. She bent all the way over so that her eyes were just inches from his swollen red bulb.

Mr. McAllister then proceeded through aspects of the male erection: the crown, the sulcus, the shaft, the meatus, and each time Emily gave the spot a little kiss, smiling up at her teacher for approval, as well as letting him know how proud and happy she was to be his student. He emphasized in particular the frenulum. "This is where boys are most sensitive. You want to give him an extra special kiss there."

"Like this, Mr. McAllister?" Emily then leaned down, stuck her tongue out part way, and proceeded to give him little rapid licks on the underside of his crown.

"Oh my gosh, yes, yes," he gasped, "just like that, Emily, just like that." He leaned back in the couch and placed a hand on her upraised, soft, curved rump as the little vixen licked and lapped at his sensitive nerves like a kitten cleaning her mummy's teat. Her tongue felt so, so good.

"I wonder if I can fit it in my mouth," she exclaimed. She looked up at him with beseeching eyes. "Would it be okay if I tried? Could I, please?"

He pretended to be uncertain. "Well, I don't know, Emily."

"I promise I won't bite it or anything. Honestly, Mr. McAllister."

"Well, I suppose it would be good for your education, and everything."

"Mr. McAllister, you're such a good teacher." Emily then opened up her mouth as wide as she could, stretching her lips as far as they would go, and then lowered her face onto his cock.

It was in fact a rather tight fit, as Mr. McAllister's dick was really thick. "Hmmmmmm," she moaned as she brought her face deeper and deeper into his lap, slowly bringing the stocky, fat shaft deeper and deeper into her mouth, her lips stretching wider and wider the farther and farther it disappeared into her mouth.

She stopped with a good couple of inches to go. "Hnnnnnn," she complained, shaking her head, and his cock with her, communicating that it was simply too big and burly for her. She even choked a bit and quickly removed her face, coughing and rubbing her throat with her hand, her eyes a bit misty. "Oh my goodness, Mr. McAllister. I'm so sorry. I just couldn't do it. It's just so big and strong, and everything. It's much too monstrous for my little girly mouth."