"Stocking Tales": Face Full of Cum

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Sexy teacher and an ex-student fall for each other.
9.8k words
4.61
1.55M
373

Part 2 of the 3 part series

Updated 08/30/2017
Created 10/24/2012
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Summary: A teacher and an ex-student fall for each other.

Note 1: A special thanks to my beautiful girl next door model who is anything but the girl next door internet sensation both in photo and video Kelly Anderson (aka Housewife Kelly).

Note 2: Photos from the following sets were used to create this fantasy tale: "Office Slut", "Cock Break", "Working Wife", "Real Estate Agent Fucks for a Sale", "Working Wife", and "Sex Tax Lady" and were used with permission of HOUSEWIFE KELLY.

Note 3: Thanks to MAB7991, Robert and goamz86 for editing this story.

Note 4: This is a 2015 Valentine's Day Contest story so please vote!!!

"Stocking Tales": A Face Full of Cum

Kelly looked in the mirror as she finished getting ready for work. Although today's young teachers dressed casually, some even considering Lulu Lemon yoga pants as acceptable professional fashion, Kelly believed in the more traditional skirt, blouse, pantyhose or stockings, and heels. She strongly believed that to gain the respect of her very opinionated senior students, she had to earn it. A mixture of a strong personality, professional attire, and compassion for all, built that sense of respect or trust. She rarely had discipline problems and her students genuinely, for the most part, enjoyed being in her class, even if the students didn't always like the subject itself.

Kelly also wasn't naive...she knew that her big firm 36C breasts and her well-toned legs drew a lot of attention from the boys in her class, as well as some of the girls. She liked the attention. She also knew that many of the boys talked about fucking her in the locker room; Coach Walter had told her so many times. "You are killing my team, Ms. Anderson," he joked, "all they talk about is did you see what Ms. Anderson was wearing today or worse."

Kelly quipped playfully to the handsome but married football coach, "And what would the worse be?"

"It is not for the ears of a lady," the handsome coached smiled.

The sexy teacher smiled, "If you knew the real me you wouldn't call me a lady."

"Let's just say you are the star of many of the boys' wet fantasies," the coach revealed.

Kelly knew some of the boys noticed her legs, or her breasts, but she never had put much thought into them jerking because of her. It should have repulsed her, or at the very least had her dress less sexy, but instead it got her off. She started dressing more provocatively at school, not slutty by any means, but she would go without underwear, or wear thigh high stockings instead of pantyhose and had even recently purchased a pair of crotchless pantyhose. Dressing naughty underneath her professional attire was her secret rebellion against the prototype teacher stereotype.

Putting on her glasses, Kelly looked at herself one more time, her stocking tops just barely hidden by her skirt, and headed to work feeling sexy and beautiful, slowly forgetting the recent harsh break-up with her boyfriend of over two years.

Thinking about the break-up still made Kelly sad. She had thought she was going to marry Kevin. He was handsome, had a good job, was a great provider, and had a similar ferocious sexual appetite, at least at first. But as he climbed the corporate ladder at work, he was gone more and more and eventually his priorities shifted from Kelly first to his job first. Kelly didn't notice it at first, but as the shift occurred, the sex happened less, with much less creativity and passion than their first intense year. That said, Kelly was still surprised when he said it was over. He didn't give her a good reason, just the standard, 'It's not you, it's me' line which is just the chicken-shit way of taking no responsibility for the relationship.

Kelly hadn't had sex with a man in over a month, and although her large box of toys did the job in theory, it wasn't the same as the intimacy and touch of a man. The heat of a kiss, the warmth of a body on her and the thrill of a cock inside her was not possible to recreate with any toy and she missed it immensely. She had a ferocious sexual appetite and a month felt like an eternity to her.

Thus, the attention from Kelly's younger students was validation of her sexuality as she went through her depressing dry spell. At thirty, the biological clock was just starting to tick, a time bomb reminder that her window for starting a family was slowly getting smaller.

She shook her head to erase the sad memory when she arrived at work as if her head was an etch-a-sketch. Putting on her teacher persona, she took a deep breath and headed into school.

.....

Some woman eat after bad a break-up, others dive into their career, others get revenge, Kelly decided to renovate her basement, slowly attempting to eradicate any evidence of her past.

Kelly called a local contractor and was to meet with him right after school. A chaotic day at school had her five minutes late for meeting him. She pulled into her driveway and saw a truck waiting for her.

The pretty teacher quickly got out of the car and walked over to the guy leaning against the side of the truck. She stopped a few feet away. "No way, Chris Gunnerson, is that you?"

A handsome young man looked up with this trademark smile. "Yes it is, Ms. Anderson, long time, no see."

"Indeed," Kelly said, walking over and shaking hands with a student she had taught back in her first year of teaching seven years ago. "Well, what a pleasant surprise!"

Chris agreed. When he had gotten the call from her, a flood of memories had come flashing back to him as he reminisced about the daily stroke sessions he had back in his senior year. Besides being funny, beautiful and intelligent, she also wore pantyhose every day which was his personal fetish. The amount of times she dangled her heel while sitting on top of her desk had him constantly distracted, his cock constantly hard and his mind constantly creating naughty fantasies.

Chris flashed back to the most constant fantasy from his past, an after school rendezvous:

"Ms. Hamilton, I just do not understand how the motivation of Hamlet is believable." I said, just finding lame excuses to spend alone time with her, clinging to the long shot that she would be into me.

"What exactly do you not understand, Mr. Gunnerson?" she asked, her sweet, girl next door smile making me weak at the knees. I also loved how she always called me Mr., as if we were on the same standing.

"Well, he seems unrealistically weak," I explained, which I did believe.

"How so?" she asked, playing with her hair the same way girls my age did to hint they were interested in me.

"W-w-well," I stammered, "If my father was killed I would avenge his death instantly, not mope around like a pus..." I stopped catching myself.

"A what?" she teased, her smile widening with a hint of playfulness.

"A pussy," I finished.

"And a pussy would be?" she asked, uncrossing her legs in what felt like slow motion, her skirt riding way up.

I stared like the eighteen year old horny pervert I was, completely mesmerized by her black nylon legs. I gasped as I saw the top of her stockings and realized she was not wearing pantyhose, but thigh high stockings.

"What is wrong, Mr. Gunnerson?" she asked, her smile dripping with knowledge of what she was doing to me.

I babbled, "N-n-nothing, I-um-just."

"So if I am correct, you are arguing that Hamlet can't just go ahead and take control of his fate. Is that true, Mr. Gunnerson?" she asked, leaning back, revealing she was wearing a sexy bra.

"Y-y-yes, exactly, he doesn't go for the kill," I stammered, trying to look intelligent as I blathered on.

"Could you go for the kill, if the opportunity arose?" my pretty teacher asked, now revealing way more of her body than was socially acceptable for a teacher.

"I-I-I..." I stuttered, completely overwhelmed by my teacher's sexual innuendo.

"Could you take control of your fate?" she continued, as she leaned forward allowing her fluffy white breasts to almost pop out at me like a 3D movie.

"Y-y-yes," I replied, although I suddenly realized how Hamlet could be so indecisive. The apple was right there, ripe to bite, I could literally taste the juiciness, yet I couldn't open my mouth.

"How long have you been considering, yet not following through, Mr. Gunnerson?" my stocking-clad fantasy teacher asked. "Even though Hamlet took a long time planning, he eventually executed it, didn't he?"

Was she telling me I should take a big bite out of the apple? Was she challenging me to take control of this moment of intimacy? Was she willing to cross the invisible line of teacher and student?

Answering her question, trying to confirm without a doubt that we were talking about the same thing, like Hamlet did before following through with his full throttle revenge, I replied, "Since the first day of class and every day since."

Her smile dripping with sweet sexiness, her tone teasing with flirtatious fun, she challenged, "That is a long time to let things simmer below the surface. You know that is what Hamlet did and that didn't go so well for him did it?"

"No," I said, frozen in indecisiveness.

"Imagine if Hamlet would have been more aggressive, maybe he could have got everything he wanted, including the girl," Ms. Anderson continued, making it clear she was willing to cross the invisible line, as she leaned back in her chair, putting her feet on her desk and allowing her breasts to break free from their blouse prison.

I tried to make a joke. "Well, he did get Ophelia."

"He did indeed, and could have had her over and over and over again if he would have been more aggressive in taking what he wanted."

Building a bit of confidence I countered, "Ophelia always did what she was told, did she not?"

"Yes, she was a very good girl, yet she wanted to be bad," Ms. Anderson retorted, her tone dripping with implication as she stood up and sauntered over to me, her breasts like two headlights coming right at me.

Suddenly confident I wouldn't be rebuked, I replied with a question, "Is Ms. Anderson a lot like Ophelia?"

"Well I am a good girl," she smiled, her hand going to my fully erect cock. "But, I also can be a very, very bad girl."

Going for broke, I put my hand on her shoulders and gently lowered her onto her black stocking-clad knees. As hoped, she didn't resist but looked at me playfully from her submissive position. "And what does Hamlet want Ophelia to do?"

"Pull out my cock, Ms. Anderson," I ordered.

"I love a man who knows what he wants," she smiled, fishing out my cock from my jeans. My fully erect cock ready for action, my English teacher purred, "Hmmmm, you have a very impressive sword, Mr. Gunnerson."

"You know what to do with such an impressive weapon, don't you?" I questioned, my confidence growing.

"That I do," she purred, opening her mouth and extending her tongue around my cockhead.

Watching my fantasy become reality, I let out a moan as her tongue swirled around, a tempting tease.

"Can you deep throat my sword?" I asked, desperate to see my beautiful teacher bobbing back and forth on my fully loaded weapon.

"Is that a demand?" she smiled, sucking on my mushroom top and slowly moving back, a loud plop occurring as her suction-cup lips released my cock.

"Yes, Ms. Anderson," I said.

"Tell me, sexy, what do you want your teacher to do?" she asked, slowly flicking her tongue on my cock.

"Be a bad girl, Ms. Anderson and suck my cock like a hungry little slut" I ordered, pushing the boundary with some name-calling.

She looked up at me and asked, "You want your teacher to be your slut?"

"No," I said, tapping my cock on her lips, "You will be my cocksucking teacher, won't you my teacher slut?"

She moaned as she agreed by taking all of my cock in her mouth. After the early tease, this time she bobbed on my cock with reckless hunger. I watched in glorified awe at the reality I was living, having my beautiful teacher becoming my personal cocksucker.

Not surprisingly, I didn't last long as I moaned, "I'm about to come."

She pulled my cock out of her mouth and pumped furiously and opened her mouth wide. "Does Hamlet want to come on Ophelia?"

"God, yes," I grunted, shooting rope after rope of cum on my kneeling teacher.

"Oh yes, baby," she moaned, as I coated her beautiful face.

Once spent, she sat up and looked up at me, our eyes meeting. I couldn't believe I had just shot my load all over my fantasy teacher. Smiling, taking her cum covered glasses off, she naughtily scooped my cum from her glasses and face and slowly put it to her mouth. "Hmmmm," she moaned as if my cum brought her to orgasm. .....

"I thought it might be you when we talked on the phone, but I wasn't sure," Chris replied, pushing his recurring high school fantasy aside, even though she looked as radiant and sexy as she did all those years ago.

"Well it is me," Kelly shrugged, as she noticed just how well her ex-student had developed over the years. "Come inside and take a look at what we discussed yesterday on the phone."

Chris followed behind, watching his ex-teacher's ass sway so perfectly from side to side, being pulled in as if looking at a hypnotist's watch.

Once downstairs, Kelly explained what she wanted done. Chris took notes and gave a quick appraisal of the cost. "Ms. Anderson," Chris began.

"Please call me Kelly," the beautiful teacher replied.

"Kelly," Chris continued, "Because you were such an awesome teacher and an inspiration, I will give you my best possible rate."

Kelly smiled, wondering how she could be an inspiration based on her teaching English and him ending up in the trades. "No, no, you don't have to do that."

"I insist," Chris replied, writing down a number and handing it to her.

Kelly looked at the paper and said, "That's it? How are you going to make any money? That is a third of the price our construction teacher suggested it would be."

"Is old Mr. Hammerton still there?" Chris asked, always finding it hilariously ironic that the construction teacher was named Hammerton.

"Yep, it's his last year," Kelly replied.

"Well, he would be correct, but I insist on doing this for you," Chris said.

"But you will be doing it practically for free," Kelly countered.

"No, no, I will still be okay, but at that price I will have to do it in the evenings," Chris explained.

"Well, if you're sure," Kelly said.

"I am."

"Then you're hired," Kelly announced, offering her hand. "When can you start?"

"Tomorrow if you want," Chris said, eager to see her again and again. By doing it at night it would take longer and she would more likely be home then during the day when she would obviously be at work.

"Sounds great," Kelly said.

Chris would have liked to stay, but he had another job to estimate. "I would love to catch up, but I have one more estimate for the boss. I will be here around six."

"Sure," Kelly agreed, "but don't eat first. I will make you supper before you start working."

"You don't have to," Chris said, although he loved the idea.

"I insist," the beautiful teacher replied. "It is the least I can do. Plus, we need to catch up."

Plans made, Kelly hugged Chris goodbye and Chris couldn't help but notice the firm breasts against his chest; likewise, Kelly couldn't help notice the stiff erection that brushed her leg. Both left with just a planted seed of what could be....

.....

That night, Kelly lay in bed horny from a lack of sex and the realization of just how hot Chris had become. He was a handsome kid when she taught him, but he had grown into a startlingly rugged man with muscles everywhere. Her hand went to her needy cunt as she fantasized not about Chris, as he was her ex-student and thus off limits, but back to Craig, a college boyfriend, who first saw through her strong façade and pulled out her submissive side.

Although Kelly was a control freak and a no nonsense teacher with high expectations, she also had another side. The stress of teaching often caused her great tension, and once she got home she wanted to let go. In the bedroom, she was the submissive and her boyfriend the dominant. Although she loved getting fucked, there was nothing better than having a cock in her mouth. She loved the silent power she had when she was on her knees pleasing a man, while, ironically, still subservient to him. Although Craig fucked her sometimes, maybe once a week, (he loved to withhold orgasms from her; even though she was expected to suck his cock daily), he also loved to cum all over her pretty face before allowing her the privilege of tasting his cum.

As she rubbed herself, she recalled the first time he took control:

"Studying again?" Craig sighed, as he grabbed himself a drink.

"I need to get a ninety on this test," I sighed, always annoyed how he didn't understand that I was a perfectionist when it came to my grades.

"Well, dressed like that, it's obvious you're wanting some cock," he said, surprising me.

"Excuse me?" I asked, surprised by his aggressive tone. We had been dating a couple of months, and he had never said anything like that before, although he was a rather blunt person.

"You dress like a slut, I'm going to treat you like a slut," he said.

"I wore the thigh highs for you," I pointed out, knowing he loved the sexy lingerie.

"Dressing to please, like a good slut," he nodded before ordering me, "Stand up!"

Part of me wanted to slap him in the face, yet another part of me was turned on by his dominant behaviour...so I obeyed.

He smiled, "I thought so."

"You thought so, what?" I asked, his smug tone pissing me off, even as my pussy began to dampen.

"You're submissive," he accused.

"I'm not," I protested.

"Lift up that skirt and show me that ass of yours," he ordered.

"Really?" I asked.

"Now!" he firmly demanded.

I again obeyed.

"Now look at me," he instructed.

I did, feeling sheepish, humiliated and horny as hell.

"What are you?" he asked.

"Your girlfriend," I answered.

"My slut," he corrected.

"Please," I began, but he cut me off.

"Thigh highs, no panties, red fuck me heels and a mini skirt," he listed, "you're obviously dressed to please."

"Yes, for you, baby," I admitted.

"Knees," he ordered.

"Here?" I asked, all our fucking so far being in my bedroom, except for a blow job once in his car while he drove.