The Math Teacher

Winter

"Terry J-dawg! Look who's back in the Creek!"

Terry looked up from his tea. "Al, dude. Look at yourself. I didn't know you were still around."

Al Sanders joined his old friend. He sat down and set his coffee on the tiny-ass wooden table, glad for any chance of conversation, in the hopes that it would drown out the tiresome Christmas music being played in the background. "No man," he said, "Pasture Creek is always gonna be home for me. What are you doing?"

"Got a job, finally," said Terry.

"No shit!" said Al. "People are saying there aren't any teaching open in the state!"

"Yeah, well, small private school. They don't pay well enough-"

"Never do."

"-but I can live off it, if I sell my car."

"What school? Wait...is it..."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes, my friend." Terry leaned back and smiled.

"So you are drowning in repressed catholic schoolgirls."

"Yes."

"That is so awesome."

"No...not really. They're underage. If I so much as touch one, I'd go to jail. And never teach again."

"Yeeaah. So what else is new?" asked Al.




Spring

Derivatives. Just...fucking derivatives. That all they had to understand. Not power series, or double integration, just some easy-ass derivatives. Terry erased the board and started over with an easier example.

"Mr. J, why is this room so cold? My nipples are rock solid," piped up the annoying one, yet again.

Thanks to that obnoxious comment, Terry knew he'd just lost all of the male students in his class. He ground his teeth, and continued facing the board in order to avoid an outburst and just said, "Cindy, stop. One more outburst and I'll write you up again." Terry drew a simple, linear graph: a nearly horizontal line that was 3 high on the left, 4 high on the right, and was about 5 long (so the rate of change was 1/5. 1/5!). Terry turned back around. "Cindy close your legs!" The student he spoke to was slouching in her seat, with her book shut and her legs open so far he could see white fabric underneath the edge of her plaid skirt. "If I had a nickel every time I said that..."

"You'd have eight dollars." The speaker was Kiesha. Kiesha was the smart one. She sat in front, wore glasses, and was mercilessly made fun of by the other girls for understanding math.

"What?" asked Terry.

"You've said 'Cindy close your legs' one hundred and fifty nine times. Times five cents, thats 7.95," said Kiesha. The rest of the class burst in to laughter, Kiesha's face went red, but for once, her classmates were not laughing at her. Terry let the matter rest.

"Can anyone..." Kiesha raised her hand. "...other than Kiesha tell me what the rate of change in this graph is?" asked Terry. Silence. "No one? Todd? Marcus? Abby? Cindy." Cindy rolled her eyes. "Cindy if you can tell me the rate of change of this graph, I will take back all of your pending detentions."

Cindy, wide-eyed, was caught off her guard. "Can you do that?"

"Can you tell me the rate of change in this graph?" Terry countered. The class was dead silent once again, with every student's fervent attention focused on either Cindy or the board.

"Ummm....." Cindy stared for a long time. "Pi?"

Some of Terry's students later swore that he visibly sank. He had, actually, thought she might guess it, or maybe just any answer with a '5' in it. "No...." Terry trailed off. There were many things he wanted to say to Cindy at that moment, and all of them would probably destroy the teenage girl's ironically fragile self-esteem and get him fired. Terry tried to go through the lesson again but was interrupted by the bell.

The students filed out. Cindy stayed behind. Terry hated this part of his day the most, when she stayed behind for some reason or another. Cindy was annoying as hell, but she was absolutely gorgeous: long, flowing, dirty blond hair, medium build, perfectly shaped c-cups and absolutely delicious hips. The blazer and skirt she wore did nothing to obscure her perfect curves. Cindy was the kind of girl that would make a girlfriend jealous. Terry had no such girlfriend, no avenue for distraction or relief. The temptation to stare, to flirt, to do something that would get him fired was only abated by her ever-fucking-annoying personality.

Cindy leaned down onto his desk. Whether she did this on purpose, to tease male teachers, or whether it was simply a part of her completely irreverent personality, he didn't know. What he did know was...well, she wasn't wearing a bra. "Mr J....Terry. Can I call you Terry?"

"Mr. J."

"I was wondering..." She moved her hips back a forth a bit as she spoke. "...about my grade...."

"You have an F."

"I need help. If I fail I can't go to college." Community College.

"And now you're coming to me for help? You show up late every fucking day, talk through the lessons, don't do your homework, and make fun of any of your classmates that do. You don't study for tests. You show me nothing but disrespect. I have given you an unfair amount of passes, I have curved tests, I have tutored you on my own time, and I've gone out of my way to offer you extra credit which you didn't even do, and now you 'want my help?' I hope you fail this class and have to repeat your entire senior year, but not that much, because I don't want to be stuck teaching you again." That's what Terry wanted to say to Cindy.

"You didn't even do the extra credit." That's what Terry J did say to Cindy.

Cindy argued with him as Terry packed up his things. It was the same stuff she always said. Terry was familiar with the kind of knockout girl that Cindy was. He had been blown off or occasionally outright rejected by many girls like her. He was a little annoyed that even after all this time, he hadn't changed. In fact, it was worse. This girl was like five years younger than him and he was constantly catering to her, going out of his way to help her to succeed.

"I will think about it," is all he would say. He headed for the door. "Go report to the office. I'm sure they have you somewhere nice for detention this afternoon. Maybe the cafeteria? Or the office? Right next to..."

"No!" Cindy darted in front of him and blocked the doorway, arms outstretched with a hand on either side of the door frame.

"Oh grow up." Terry tried to move around her but she stayed in his way, sticking her ass back towards him. Terry sighed. Then he smacked her. On the ass. Spanked is probably a better word. And it was hard. Cindy yelped and jumped. If she hadn't been clutching the door frame she would have sprawled out into the hallway. Instead, she ran. Terry stood in the doorway, looking down at his hand. "That was a very stupid thing to do." Terry sat down in one of the student desks and thought about his life. Cindy was probably running straight to the office. They would be back here, maybe the principle chick and a cop, and they'd escort him out. He'd just lost his job, and the expensive teaching degree that he didn't even need to get it--fucking private schools--but would still lose because of it.

Terry waited for quite some time, but no one came. He felt silly in the one-piece chair desk. He rose to his feet, slowly, and shuffled out of the door.


Later: Cindy slapped him. He pushed her against the wall--barked at her--made her hold her skirt up while he put his hand between her legs. He rubbed her there. He could feel her wetness...down...there. He told her to look at him. He watched Cindy's face, watched the reaction in her eyes as his fingers pulled the waistband of her panties away from her skin, watched her eyes as he slid is hand inside and started exploring her pussy. He asked her a question. She nodded, the pigtails on either side of her head bobbing. Oh, he be using those pigtails as handles in a second----suddenly, Terry woke up. He sat straight up in bed. His erection was visible, propping up two sheets and a blanket. Guilt washed over him. It was probably over, but even though he was at home and there was no one to see him, he still felt guilty about getting himself off at Cindy's expense. So...he tried to just go back to sleep. Yeah, that worked out real well.


The next day, Terry was a little rough around the edges, partly from lack of sleep and partly because any minute now he was about to be pulled out of class. On the bright side, Cindy was quieter. The absence of their repartee was a welcome change to his 8th period math class. Terry tried to avoid looking at her. When the class was over, Cindy glanced at him, and then followed every one out.

The day after that, he was still teaching, and the day after that one too, and so one. The last few weeks of the year passed quickly, but not before Cindy started mouthing off again and slow enough for Terry to realize that he had dodged a bullet. He failed Cindy. Maybe she would try to blackmail him, and maybe he deserved it, but there was no way he could pass her without doctoring her scores.


Summer

Terry was called into the headmaster's office. The principal, a moderately attractive woman in her 50s, ushered him in and told him to take a seat.

"Its about Cindy Boese," she said.

Terry nodded, trying not to shake.

"I understand that she has been a lot of trouble for you but that doesnt mean..." Terry tensed up. "...well, lets just say I'd like to give her one last chance."

"Pardon?"

"I'm talking about summer school," said the principal. Terry leaned back in his seat, let his arms drop to the armrests.

"Sure." Terry tried to keep the relief out of his voice.

"That easy? This will be a lot of time on your part--"

"I don't suppose I'll get time and a half, will I?"

"Actually, I'm afraid you won't be paid for your time, but this kind of thing does look good when a teacher comes up for tenure." And yadda, yadda, yadda, she went on. Sure it looks good, in ten years when he has a chance of getting it.

"Tell you what...I'll meet with her every day for a few weeks and go through all of the material, and if she shows up on time, every day, I'll give her the final exam again."

"That sounds good."

Terry left the office and only then started to think about what he'd signed up for.

Cindy showed up to their first lesson wearing sweatpants--the kind with big words spelled over her ass that Terry didn't dare read--and a low-cut sphagetti strap top. They met in the same classroom, and she sat in the same desk with the same slouch, and didn't even bring her book. The only good part was the fact that she showed up on time. Terry was more nervous going 1-on-1 with students, especially hot ones, and talked quickly, keeping his eyes on the board or in his book most of the time. They made no progress.

"Cindy, are you even paying attention?" he asked.

"No."

Terry's shoulders did sink that time. Three days of his life, wasted. "Sit up, open your book, and start paying attention, or..." Terry suddenly he realized he had no threat to end that sentence with. He couldn't give her a dentention. He could fail her. He already failed her though.

"Or what? You're gonna spank me again?" Cindy crossed her arms over the closed book.

"I would if it would make you learn something." Terry's voice was raised.

"You don't have the balls," she taunted.

"You already know that I do," he said. His voice was low again.

"Oh yeah?" She sounded excited. "Lets see you, huh." With more enthusiasm than she'd shown all year, Cindy bounded up to the front and leaned over Terry's desk. Terry stared at her for a moment. He walked around the desk and looked at her ass. There was no fit of anger this time. Nothing he could blame....

Terry came up behind her, pushed her face down to the desk, and pulled his arm back to swing. Then he hesitated again. Cindy looked back at him. Terry grabbed a ruler from the desk, as if that was better than his hand, and swung it like he was trying to hit a baseball.

"OOWWW!" Cindy screamed. Terry held her down and hit her two more times. The second and third hits were soft, but the first one had been so hard that they clearly inflicted pain.

Terry let her up from the desk and tossed the ruler on it. "Is that what you like, being the bad girl?"

Cindy started at him, mouth open, touching her ass gingerly. She winced.

"You like having all of these kids think your cool because you have the tenacity to talk back to an adult? I have news for you: that means nothing. Standing out in this sheltered-ass school for being bad is like being the tallest of the midgets. When you graduate, all of your friends that you work so hard to impress are going to go to college and discover the magic of vodka and drink more in one bender than you've ever snuck out of Daddy's liquor cabinet, and you're going to be at home, because you failed math, and the sad thing is you're smart enough; you're just not trying."

"Einstein failed math!" Cindy had tears in her eyes. That, or she was a good actress.

"Yeah, school was a lot harder then. And he went on to revolutionize physics. If that's what you plan on, you should know being hot doesn't get you published in the physics world."

"At least I'm not a pervert," said Cindy.

"Fair enough," said Terry. "I think we're done for today. You can come back tomorrow and make a real attempt to pass, or we can leave your grade the way it is. Your choice." Terry left. He left quickly; he didn't need to gather his things. He'd done the entire lesson from memory. He could feel Cindy's gaze on his back.

Cindy was there the next day. Her attitude hadn't changed, but she was there. That's got to count for something. She was also wearing one of her shorter skirts and a small t-shirt, hoping that a little T&A would distract Mr. Grumpypants from being so...grumpy. Cindy watched him chalk up the board, going on and on about angles and vectors and all kinds of crap. She had a great view of his ass, and his hairy arms with the sleeves of his Hugo Boss shirt rolled back. She imagined him rolling those sleeves all the way past his elbows, fold after fold, one arm at a time, getting ready to bend her over his desk and slap--oh shit. Cindy realized he was staring at her, expecting an answer to something.

"Um...what?" she asked.

Mr. J rolled his eyes. "Oh really? Daydreaming again?" No answer. "What's the last thing you remember?" he asked.

Cindy bit her lip. "Um....SOH CAH TOA ?"

Mr. J facepalmed. "That was half an hour ago."

Cindy tried to shrink in her chair. Maybe this was it--when he would finally give up on her for good.

"Come up here," said Mr J.

Cindy obeyed. She walked up to the front, avoiding his eyes. She bent over the desk again, bending all the way down until her head was on the surface, and reached back with both hands to hike her skirt up. Then she saw the chalk Mr. J was holding out to her, and the expression on his face. Oh. That kind of 'come up here.'

Terry watched the voluptuous teen lean onto his desk and pull her skirt up from her fine ass, revealing her large white cotton panties. He'd gotten plenty of glimpses, but now it was all out in the open. Terry could feel himself growing hard. He put the chalk down, slowly, and stepped around the desk. He stood there, just taking in the sight of her ass, and would have loved to stay there all day, just looking at it, but he forced himself to act before she moved. He smacked her left cheek, hard, but not too hard.

"Ow!" said Cindy. Mr. J slapped her again, this time on the right cheek. She winced but didn't say anything.

"Start counting," he said, and smacked her again, this time right on both cheeks. Cindy grunted.

"Three," she said. "Hmmmmpppff!!!!! Four." There was a pause. Cindy was about to get up when he hit her again, so hard the desk moved. She cried out, feeling tears in her eyes. "F-five." His hand lingered on her ass.

"Alright. That's enough. Let's call it a day," said Mr J. He pulled her skirt down and helped her up. Cindy looked at the clock. She'd only been there for like 45 minutes. Her parents wouldn't even believe he'd let her out. Mr. J walked back to her desk, opened the math book she'd been using, flipped to a certain page, and tore it out. Cindy's jaw dropped. "Tomorrow," said Mr J, "come back and know how to solve one of the problems, just one, correctly." Cindy took the page. It was the same trig crap he'd been droning on about. She looked back up at Mr J. "We're done," he said.

Cindy had to wait around the school then. Her summer "classes" were supposed to last two hours. She needed a more believable amount of time to go by before going home. She sat down around the side of the building, peeking at Mr J as he walked to his car. Mr J was different than the other male teachers. For one thing, he was young. He still reeked of the coolness of college boys. Also, he didn't seem afraid of her, like the boys in her class, and he never actually talked down to her. He chided and bitched at her, but he never took the tone of a grownup talking to a five-year-old, like the other teachers. Cindy watched him toss a bag into his convertible and hop in without opening the door. It's not like he jumped in...he just kind of leaned into the seat and swung his legs over the side, like he'd done it a million times. That was the first time Cindy thought of him as a real person, and not just a character, a figure, that decorated her life.

Cindy went home and plopped down on her bed, looking at the sheet. She started working on the problems. She rubbed her ass. It wasn't terribly sore--he only spanked her five times--but she could still feel it. Cindy kept rubbing her ass while she tried a couple problems. They seemed easy enough, sure. She understood them, but she kept blanking out on how to solve them, and when she got one, it always got screwed up. Cindy realized that she was still rubbing her ass, and was now, also, rubbing her pussy as well. Cindy rolled onto her back and abandoned the problems. She hiked up her skit and started rubbing her self through her white panties. She was not a virgin, but she was certainly not experienced, and didn't yet know much about getting herself off. She imagined Mr J was helping her. He would slide his expert fingers up and down her slit, tell her she was a bad girl.

Cindy tried to imagine what his hand would feel like, and then noticed the pillow near her head. She put the pillow between her legs, pressing it into her crotch with both hands. She started moving the pillow back and forth. She did this for a while, feeling the heat slowly build up. She imagined Mr J with his sleeves rolled up, his bare hands on her bare ass, spanking her, smacking her, pushing her face down onto his desk, her cheek dragging on the smooth plasticy surface as her face was knocked forward with every it. She felt the sting from the blows. His hands. Hitting her ass. Grabbing the cheeks. In between her legs...rubbing. Cindy was moaning now, in quick little breaths. She closed her eyes. She tried to picture Mr J, shirtless. Mmmm shirtless! Yes, Mr J, shirtless, rubbing her there. Not the pillow, but his right hand, the one he spanked her with. Suddenly there was a rising tide inside her body. She felt warm everywhere, from her head all the way down, all over her skin, to her toes. Cindy clenched her knees together, holding the pillow still in a vice grip with her legs as her first real orgasm rocked through her body.


The next day, Terry waited at his desk in the classroom. It was half an hour past their meeting time. Fuck Cindy if she wasn't scared of being hit by her teacher but quit because of one fucking math problem. Fuck her. Fuck--Cindy walked in the classroom. She was wearing her school uniform. Was this just to mess with him? Maybe she didn't do her laundry. Wait, no, she was still in high school. Her mom probably did her laundry. Whatever the case, Cindy walked right up to his desk and presented him with two sheets of paper. One was from the book. The other was lined notebook paper with one scratched and on real version of a math problem: the first problem in the first section on the page, the easiest. Mr. J glanced at it, nodded, but still opened with grumpiness: "I said be able to solve one, not actually do it." He dropped the paper on his desk, and wrote the first problem on the board. "Show me."

Cindy took a piece of chalk and muddled through the solution. The room was dead silent except for her breathing, his breathing, and the scraping sounds the chalk made. Why couldn't this room have whiteboards like most of the others? Mr. J looked at her work. He didn't smile, but he didn't frown either.

"Ok," was all he said.

"Did I do it right?"

"You have the basic method down." He started erasing it. "Ok, now draw me a graph."

"Of what?"

"Just make the axes. The horizontal one is days, so start from zero and make each tick mark a day. Do you know how to do that?"

"I'm not stupid!" Cindy drew a horitonal line, filled it with a bunch of ticks, and then wrote a number under each one, starting with zero on the left, and going up to 12.

"Now label it 'days.' If you learn nothing else from me, ever, just learn to label the fucking axes when you draw a graph."

Cindy wrote 'days' under the line.

"Now draw the y axis."

"What do you want me to label it?"

"Don't label this one."

"But you said-"

"Yeah I know. Label every other graph in the world, but not this one. This one is special."

Cindy stuck her tongue out at him and did as he asked. She drew the tick marks on the vertical line the same way.

"Ok. Now draw a dot for x equals zero and y equals 1."

"Here?"

"Yeah. Now do 1, 3. And 2, 5"

"Now what?"

"Now bend over the desk."

"What?"

Mr. J didn't say anything. He had his hands on his hips. He just looked at the desk, and then back at her. Cindy bit her lip, but then did as he asked. Mr J flipped her skirt up, revealing another pair of white panties. He slammed his hand into her ass. She winced. "Count," he said.

"One."

Mr. J smacked her again.

"Two." He smacked her again, and again, and again, hitting her harder each time. After five, she squirmed. After six, her whole body shuddered. After seven, he told her to get up again.

"Ok, now mark 3, 7 on the graph."

Cindy's mouth dropped open. He handed her a piece of chalk. She didn't say anything. The spanking seemed to have stilled her tongue for a while.

"Alright. Come back tomorrow."

"But I just got here."

"Well, go goof off for an hour and come back."

"Why?"

"Because I think you'll learn better this way."

Cindy left. She walked down the hallway and around the corner. Now what? She heard Mr. J coming. She ducked into a doorway. He passed right by her and walked into the mens room. Cindy waited. Apparently he was taking his time. Reeeally taking his time. Cindy walked up to the door and cracked it open very slowly. She knew from experience that this door didn't squeak if you opened it slowly enough. She leaned her head in. She could hear Mr. J breathing. Loudly. She could also hear something else. He getting himself off! Cindy slipped inside. She leaned against the sink, looking at his shoes under the stall, listening to his labored breathing, to the smacking sounds he was making with this hand.

Terry was picturing the way her ass looked, imagining it without the panties, with her underwear down around her ankles. Terry finally came into the wadded up paper in his hand. Sexual excitement waned and shame and guilt took over. Here he was, huddled in the boys room of a private school, jerking off to the image of one of his students. How far had he fallen? He tossed it in, zipped up, and flushed the evidence away with his foot. Then he opened the stall door, to the shock of his life.

Cindy was standing right in front of him, leaning back against the sink, smirking. "Have fun?" she asked.

"You shouldn't be in here."

Cindy shrugged, and glanced down at the floor, strangely shy. Terry washed his hands in the sink next to her. She didn't say anything. Then he dried them.

"Stand up straight. Face the mirror."

"What?"

Mr. J manoeuvred her into position. He stood behind her. She faced the mirror. He pulled her hands up, behind her head, and told her to keep them there. "You like it when I spank you, don't you?" he said. Cindy nodded. Mr. J smiled at her, probably for the first time. He gave her skirt a good yank, and it fell to the floor, pooling around her ankles. "I'm going to spank you again," he said. "You you have any idea how many times?"

Cindy shook her head. "Ten?"

"No." They held eye contact through the mirror until Mr. J smacked her right cheek, and Cindy closed her eyes, wincing. "Start counting."

"One." He hit her again. She winced, and called out "Two!" After a few more she kept her eyes shut. Her body swayed with every hit.

Mr. J spanked her nine times. Then he led her back to the classroom and had her graph it--4,9. "Ok, I get it now," she said.

"Do you?" he asked. "If I spanked you again, if I bent you over my knee and started spanking your bare ass, how many smacks would it be?"

"Eleven. You do two more every time."

"So the number changes, yeah? How much does it change by?"

"I just said, two."

"So what is the rate of change?"

Suddenly, Cindy's eyes went wide. "Two!"

"Every time?"

"Yeah, its always two more."

"Ok, graph it."

"What?"

"Graph 'two.' Graph y equals two. You remember how to do that from algebra, right?"

Cindy drew a horizontal line and wrote "2" next to it. It was a piss poor graph, but it did the job.

"Alright. That graph you just drew is the derivative."

"You kidding."

"No. Look at it. This graph is 2 for every day, so for every day--we'll count the bathroom as day four--I increased it by two, so this graph is always 2. Its a graph of how much that one changes."

Cindy stared at the board in amazement. Something had just clicked in her mind. "Omigosh I get it!"

Terry pushed her back. "Ok. Let's move on...." He didn't touch her the rest of that session. When they were done, he left the graph on the board.

"What if someone sees that?" Cindy asked.

"They won't have a clue what it is, because you didn't label the y-axis."

"Huh."


The next day, Cindy was sitting on Mr. J's desk, swinging her legs while she watched him explain something at the board. Cindy couldn't remember anyone ever trying this hard to teach her something, because she had forgotten about the entire year she had slacked off in his class.

"Ok, I think you have this section. What do you want to work on next?"

"I get a choice?"

"Uh, sure."

Cindy bit her lip. "The calc section."

"Ok." Mr. J flipped forward in his book. Then he looked at the board. Then he looked at her. "More derivatives, huh?"

Cindy nodded.

Mr. J smiled. "Are you sure? This is gonna hurt."

Cindy nodded again.

Mr. J pulled another piece of chalk out of his pocket. This one was pink. "We're going to put another graph on top of this one. The first point goes at zero, zero."

Cindy drew a pink dot at 0,0.

Mr. J sat down in his teacher's chair. There were no armrests on it. He patted his lap. Cindy laid down across it, with her hands and legs on the floor, and her stomach over his crotch. He reached around her and unzipped the fly of her jeans. She lifted up as he tugged them down below her thighs. Then he spanked her ass once. "How many was that?"

"Uh...one."

"That's day one. Go put it up." Cindy got up and shuffled to the board, and made a pink dot at 1,1. "Oh yeah, this is gonna hurt, huh?"

Mr. J didn't answer her. "You might want to just take those of," he said about her jeans.

Cindy shimmied out of her jeans and tossed them on the desk. Then they laid across his lap again. He spanked her three times. "Day two."

Cindy got up and drew a giant pink dot at 2,3. When she was back on his lap, Mr. J slid her panties down. Then he spanked her bare ass with his hands. These hurt. They hurt a lot. She yelled every time, and he made her count. There were six. When she got up, she tossed her panties on top of her jeans, and made a big dot at 3,6. Cindy went back to his lap. Mr. J tried to shift, but it didn't work: she could feel his penis on her stomach. This was turning him on. A lot. Well, she already knew that. He used a ruler this time. It was a blue, kind of see-through plastic. It hurt like hell. Every stroke made her cry out in pain. Her ass started to turn red. When he hit her, her knees would buckle for a second, and her ass cheeks quivered. He made her count, but she didn't need to. She knew how many there were going to be--10. She knew what he was doing. It all made sense now, and his hardon was rubbed against her belly with every hit. Cindy waited until right before the last one, then slid off of his knees. Mr. J froze for a second with the ruler still in the air. Cindy unbuttoned his fly and ripped it open. She had her hand inside his boxers before he could react.

Terry grabbed her arms to pull her away but the moment her fingers closed around his penis, he was helpless. He was already boiling over with a raging hardon, and her touch was something he couldn't resist. Cindy squeezed it, and smiled. She fished it out of his pants. Terry leaned back. He felt her lips on the tip, her warm, wet lips. Cindy gave head like she was just kissing it; kissing it and letting it slip in her mouth a little. She licked up and down the sides, and then licked the head again. She stroked him with her hand. She was no expert, but that made the situation even hotter. Terry came, quickly, quicker than normal, but Cindy already knew what that sounded like and put her mouth over the end. She sucked gently, taking every load of sperm on her tongue.

Then she swallowed.

"I like the taste," she said.

Terry looked down at her. She was on her knees, between his legs, smiling. He smiled back. "Put your clothes on. I don't think we're gonna get any more math done today."


The next few days they met, he didn't touch her at all. They just went through the math. Cindy couldn't stand it. "How come you haven't spanked me again?" She blurted it out in the middle of a lesson.

Mr. J's face went red. "I uh...think we got what we needed from that."

"You mean you got what you needed." Cindy reached for his pants.

"Woah." He grabbed her wrists. It was too late, though. He was already losing self control. He pushed her against the board, pushed her wrists against the chalky surface above her head. He kissed her. They made out, his lips on hers, hers on his, tongues dancing. Then he let go, and took a step back. "Lift up your skirt." Cindy grabbed the hem of her skirt and lifted it up. Mr. J grabbed her leg, slid his hand up to her underwear. He cupped her mound. "Is this what you want?" he asked. She nodded. He slid his hand inside her panties, all the way down her slit.

"Ughhh" she moaned.

"Does that feel good."

"Yes."

Terry slid is fingers all the way back up her slit. He found her clit and gave it a flick with his middle finger. Cindy jumped. He rubbed up and down a few times until she was wet. Then he rubbed a finger in a circle around her cunt. He pushed it inside. Cindy moaned loudly and bit her lip. Terry stuck his finger in farther. He slid it back out again. Then in and out. He added another finger. She was tight. He looked at her. She was staring up at him, mouth open, breathing fast. He slid his fingers back out of her opening. They were soaked. He started going up and down her mound with them, always making sure to brush her clit with every stroke. He kept doing it. His listened to her breathe faster. Her hips started bucking. He switched to a circular motion, then side to side, as fast as he could. She came in his hand. Her knees were weak. She leaned forward, into a hug.

"That was so wonderful," she said.

Terry pulled his hand out of her underwear. "I'm glad you liked it." She sat in his lap after that, and the talked, for once, about things other than math. Then he looked at the clock. "Time to go."

"Ok. See you tomorrow!"

"Yeah, about that. I think we're done enough. Tomorrow I'm going to give you the final again."

"What?"

"I think you're ready. And I'm having trouble controlling myself around you."

Cindy looked like she wanted to say something, something cliche but effective. She didn't, though. She just frowned and left. The next day they were all business, then. The magic was over. She walked in wearing jeans. Terry handed her the final and some scratch paper and told her to get to work. She glanced up occasionally but he didn't seem to notice, just kept reading some book. When she was done, she bounced up to the front and shoved it in his face.

"You're done?" he asked.

"Yup."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Ok. I'll take this home and grade it." Terry stuck the final into his book as a bookmard and stood up.

"So that's it then?" asked Cindy.

"Uh, yeah. That's it."

"Can't you grade it right now?"

"Well, I could. Why?"

"How about if I get a good grade, you...."

"I what?"

"One last time?" she asked.

Terry sighed. This girl and his self control: not an even match. Then he grinned. "Alright. I'll grade this right now, just for you, little miss impatient, and I'll spank you for every point you get. But that will be it. I've already gone way to far with you."

Cindy bit her lip again. "Ok." She watched him grade her test. He seemed to just skim it, making the occasional red mark. It looked like he was only grading the hard ones. Then he stopped and wrote at 48 at the top. "What!?!" Cindy was about to cry. "I only got forty eight? I know I did better than that. You didn't even mark anything wrong!" Cindy had worked harder in the past two weeks than she had in the past two years of school put together. She wanted to cry.

"Cindy. Its out of 50. You got a 96%."

"I got a what?"

"Yeah. 96."

"Wow. Wait, which one are you using for...."

Terry grinned. "Which one do you think?"

Cindy gulped.

Terry stood up. "Bend over."

She bent over the desk.

"Woah, jeans off. And your underwear. Lets see that ass." Cindy obeyed. Terry raised his blue ruler. "This is going to hurt."



Fall

Cindy got the call on her way out of class. It was that bitch of a principle from her high school, asking about Mr. J. The questions were very direct. Cindy froze in the middle of the walk, forcing irritated students to walk around her. Her heart sank as she told the bitch to fuck off, that nothing happened. But something had happened. How did they find out?

"What is going to happen to Mr J?" she asked.

"He has been suspended following an investigation," said the bitch.

"I'm nineteen!"

"Why would that matter if nothing allegedly happened between you two?

Cindy growled and ended the call. She couldn't concentrate in the rest of her classes that day. Then she heard the calc professor admonish the class about labeling their axis on their homework (which she had done, of course) and it make her think of Mr J. and it was too much. Cindy drove home for a surprise visit. She had to deal with her sisters and her parents, which was unpleasant, but she didn't care.

She left her parents house an hour later with her old uniform stashed in her book bag. She changed in her car. Then she drove to her old high school and charged in the office. The secretary was less than helpful, but failed to physically stop Cindy when she made a grab for the rolodex on the desk and fished Mr. J's card out.

When Cindy arrived at his house she found Mr. J's car in the driveway but no one answered the front door. She walked around to the back and found the back door. It was wood, with lots of little glass windows in it. She banged on it hard. Then, he appeared. Cindy had never seen him like this...so...normal. He was wearing jeans, and a polo shirt, and he had a thick five-o-clock shadow and he was barefoot.

Terry J was still riding a mild hangover when someone banged on the front door and then the back one. When he finally got back there, he found a strange sight indeed: Cindy, from last year, in her schoolgirl outfit. He wasn't sure what to do. He felt elated and guilty at the same time. Terry just stood on the inside of the door, looking at her. Was this some kind of game to her?

Cindy opened the door and came inside. Her eyes were red, like she had been crying recently. "I am so sorry!" she blurted out, "my sister saw the red marks on my but once and I had to tell her, and it just, it just...."

"I'll probably never teach again. But its my fault, not yours," said Terry.

They stared at each other for a few moments, neither one speaking. Then Cindy bit her lip, and looked over at the washing machine. She walked up to it, bent over it, and pulled her skit up, looking back at him. Terry sighed, and looked around, as if someone might be watching in his own house. He couldn't resist, especially not with that red thong that she had on instead of the white panties she used to wear. Terry walked up behind her and ran his hand over her ass, feeling every curve, each cheek and down and over her mound. Then she smacked her. Cindy winced. Terry smacked her again, hard. Cindy made a sound that time. Terry spanked her a few more times, and then tugged on the elastic waistband of her thong until it fell down to her ankles.

Cindy felt the next one on her bare ass. Then she felt a hand on her pussy. She was already wet. Terry rubbed her there, gently, while spanking her with the other hand. Pain and pleasure at the same time--it was incredible. He inserted a finger inside her and she couldn't help moaning loudly. Then he took his hands away. Cindy expected a sudden slap, but instead she heard the jingling a belt buckle, and his jeans. She looked behind her. He was naked from the waist down, and his cock was sprung forward. Terry pushed inside her before she could say anything. He took his length all the way back out and then pushed inside her again. It was incredible. He gave her another smack, on the side of her ass cheek, but it didn't really hurt. He pumped in and out, relishing the feeling of her tight pussy.

"Oooohhhh that feels so fucking good," moaned Cindy.

Terry didn't answer. He just grabbed her hips and kept fucking her, increasing speed until with every thrust he was rocking her body forward into the washing machine. Cindy was close to an orgasm. Then, suddenly, Terry started pounding her faster than she though possible, and then they both came and collapsed on the washing machine.

"Do you want to be my college tutor?" asked Cindy.