deepundergroundpoetry.com
She Taught Me Well
Sitting in my class counting down the time for the bell to ring.
Admiring my teachers callipygian physique in her skin gripping skirt.
Her robust bust screaming to get of her white button up.
Her glasses adding a spicy effect to her sexy nature.
I have fantasized about her before, dreaming of sinful acts.
My mind wandering into a cliche act of erotica.
Several times she has caught me staring at her derriere, her bosom.
I don't care, she knows that what she wears she wears for men.
To turn the desire on in our mind, make us lust for her.
I don't learn much, either distracted by her or other things.
As I am now, distracted, thinking of all the things I can do to her.
"Turner, when the bell rings, stay after, I need to speak with you.", My thoughts broken with her statement.
Now I can only think of what I could have done.
Maybe I'm failing.
Tick, Tick,Tick, the sounds of the second hand on the clock pound my eardrums.
The bell finally rings, a sound of relief on my nervous heart.
She walks over, her heels clicking and clacking on the hardwood floor.
She raises her skirt a little to ease the tightness when sits on the top of my desk.
"Turner, I have noticed some inappropriate behavior from you.
I have caught you on multiple occasions looking at me in a sexual manner.
At areas of my body, for some reason only you give any attention.
I'm single, young and beautiful but you're the only guy who looks at me with such passion.
I know this is wrong, and I could lose my job for even asking a student this,
But I want you to have your way with me....will you?"
My mind is scrambled, trying to absorb her words like a sponge.
Digesting each word trying to shit out a single thought.
My mouth can't mutter the words my body want to carry out.
Arising from my seat, placing my hand on her thigh.
I feel the heat resonating from her skin.
Placing my lips upon hers, like a puzzle piece fitting them perfectly together.
Time to show teacher what I learned in Sex Ed.
Sliding my hand up her skirt, her smooth skin pressing against my fingertips.
They finally reach the fabric walls of her panties, thong, I have yet to find out.
Pushing my fingers into her soft squishy exterior through her underwear interior.
Getting a feel for what I will penetrate shortly.
I can feel her lips, and the little prickly hairs that have grown in from her shaving.
Almost as if she prepared for this day to happen, for me to show her educational discipline.
Her hand rubbing against my denim jeans, feeling up and down my length.
A good eight incher God blessed me with, now it's time for me to share Gods gift.
My hands still entrenched inside her skirt, I can feel the moisture start to seep through.
Pushing her skirt up over her hips and around her waist I reveal a black and pink thong.
I always knew teach was a little freaky, it's a common stereotype I'm glad exist.
Squeezing my hands between each string, and tugging until they're around only only one ankle.
Going good so far, I insert one finger inside her.
The moisture engulfs my finger, her insides so wet and soft.
In goes finger two, I feel how tight she really is now.
Her Walls the prison cells to my finger prisoners, escaping but going back.
Convicts that are always going back in the slammer.
Faster and faster, my fingers hitting her G-spot, named after the doctor who discovered it in the 50's.
Her moans are elegant sounds, soft and gentle.
They become quicker and more pertinent, I feel her tighten for a small moment.
Legs squeezing together, as she holds back her moan.
Like high tide her juices powerfully gush against my fingers.
The first orgasm created in response to my actions.
Pushing myself into her, filling her orifice with my rod.
I thought my fingers loosened her up, guess not.
It feels so good and my shaft isn't even all the way in.
Inch by inch it disappears into her black hole.
Her wet caverns a perfect fit for me to hide away.
Coming out for sunlight every second, then quickly retreating back in.
Her legs wrapped around my waist pulling me in deeper.
My hands entangled in her long brown hair kissing her neck.
Hot air escaping our gaped mouths, filling the room with a silent language of lust.
Each time I retreat, her legs capture me again.
I can't escape, I don't want to.
A prisoner glad to be imprisoned.
Faster and more melodic the thrust become, an upbeat rhythm.
Her hands clenching any part of me she can, her legs loosening their hold.
This time a tsunami releases upon my monument, trying to tear it down.
This extra lubrication, allowing me to slide in and out like a car piston.
"It's okay, I'm on birth control"
The words that allow me to cum in peace.
Releasing my semen inside her in one final thrust.
She moans because she has more of me then she can take.
I moan because to much of her has been released.
Sliding out, I see me desk covered in her flowery nectar.
I'll be smelling it all school year.
I pull up my pants. Her, her pink and black thong.Followed by her skirt.
She says I got an "A" on that test, passed with flying colors.
"Turner, Mr. TURNER!, wake up, I'll need to speak with you after class."
Another dream interrupted, and always with perfect timing for it finish.
Again she has asked me to stay after only to chastise me.
I await the day this cliché fantasy comes true.
Admiring my teachers callipygian physique in her skin gripping skirt.
Her robust bust screaming to get of her white button up.
Her glasses adding a spicy effect to her sexy nature.
I have fantasized about her before, dreaming of sinful acts.
My mind wandering into a cliche act of erotica.
Several times she has caught me staring at her derriere, her bosom.
I don't care, she knows that what she wears she wears for men.
To turn the desire on in our mind, make us lust for her.
I don't learn much, either distracted by her or other things.
As I am now, distracted, thinking of all the things I can do to her.
"Turner, when the bell rings, stay after, I need to speak with you.", My thoughts broken with her statement.
Now I can only think of what I could have done.
Maybe I'm failing.
Tick, Tick,Tick, the sounds of the second hand on the clock pound my eardrums.
The bell finally rings, a sound of relief on my nervous heart.
She walks over, her heels clicking and clacking on the hardwood floor.
She raises her skirt a little to ease the tightness when sits on the top of my desk.
"Turner, I have noticed some inappropriate behavior from you.
I have caught you on multiple occasions looking at me in a sexual manner.
At areas of my body, for some reason only you give any attention.
I'm single, young and beautiful but you're the only guy who looks at me with such passion.
I know this is wrong, and I could lose my job for even asking a student this,
But I want you to have your way with me....will you?"
My mind is scrambled, trying to absorb her words like a sponge.
Digesting each word trying to shit out a single thought.
My mouth can't mutter the words my body want to carry out.
Arising from my seat, placing my hand on her thigh.
I feel the heat resonating from her skin.
Placing my lips upon hers, like a puzzle piece fitting them perfectly together.
Time to show teacher what I learned in Sex Ed.
Sliding my hand up her skirt, her smooth skin pressing against my fingertips.
They finally reach the fabric walls of her panties, thong, I have yet to find out.
Pushing my fingers into her soft squishy exterior through her underwear interior.
Getting a feel for what I will penetrate shortly.
I can feel her lips, and the little prickly hairs that have grown in from her shaving.
Almost as if she prepared for this day to happen, for me to show her educational discipline.
Her hand rubbing against my denim jeans, feeling up and down my length.
A good eight incher God blessed me with, now it's time for me to share Gods gift.
My hands still entrenched inside her skirt, I can feel the moisture start to seep through.
Pushing her skirt up over her hips and around her waist I reveal a black and pink thong.
I always knew teach was a little freaky, it's a common stereotype I'm glad exist.
Squeezing my hands between each string, and tugging until they're around only only one ankle.
Going good so far, I insert one finger inside her.
The moisture engulfs my finger, her insides so wet and soft.
In goes finger two, I feel how tight she really is now.
Her Walls the prison cells to my finger prisoners, escaping but going back.
Convicts that are always going back in the slammer.
Faster and faster, my fingers hitting her G-spot, named after the doctor who discovered it in the 50's.
Her moans are elegant sounds, soft and gentle.
They become quicker and more pertinent, I feel her tighten for a small moment.
Legs squeezing together, as she holds back her moan.
Like high tide her juices powerfully gush against my fingers.
The first orgasm created in response to my actions.
Pushing myself into her, filling her orifice with my rod.
I thought my fingers loosened her up, guess not.
It feels so good and my shaft isn't even all the way in.
Inch by inch it disappears into her black hole.
Her wet caverns a perfect fit for me to hide away.
Coming out for sunlight every second, then quickly retreating back in.
Her legs wrapped around my waist pulling me in deeper.
My hands entangled in her long brown hair kissing her neck.
Hot air escaping our gaped mouths, filling the room with a silent language of lust.
Each time I retreat, her legs capture me again.
I can't escape, I don't want to.
A prisoner glad to be imprisoned.
Faster and more melodic the thrust become, an upbeat rhythm.
Her hands clenching any part of me she can, her legs loosening their hold.
This time a tsunami releases upon my monument, trying to tear it down.
This extra lubrication, allowing me to slide in and out like a car piston.
"It's okay, I'm on birth control"
The words that allow me to cum in peace.
Releasing my semen inside her in one final thrust.
She moans because she has more of me then she can take.
I moan because to much of her has been released.
Sliding out, I see me desk covered in her flowery nectar.
I'll be smelling it all school year.
I pull up my pants. Her, her pink and black thong.Followed by her skirt.
She says I got an "A" on that test, passed with flying colors.
"Turner, Mr. TURNER!, wake up, I'll need to speak with you after class."
Another dream interrupted, and always with perfect timing for it finish.
Again she has asked me to stay after only to chastise me.
I await the day this cliché fantasy comes true.
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