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Her Ears Are Sizzling (Mathim x Gasper)

Mathim

Star
Joined
Nov 10, 2019
Another year about halfway finished for the high school English teacher. Another conservative parent group forbidding their district from allowing the school to have the students read a certain overly sexual novel despite its literary significance. Another grey hair on that English teacher's head. It wasn't enough that at age 40 he was as many pounds overweight, single and with no dating prospects. He was living on such modest means that attracting a woman would be a real long shot even if she was able to find herself physically attracted to him. At least the students did like him, he had a great sense of humor, was lenient on grading and often let the class watch a movie instead of doing an assignment that would just bore them. Not that any of them would actually flirt with him, or compliment him on anything to his face.

Norman Billings had been teaching for nearly 15 years now, and would have to do something very untoward in order to get fired, so he was at least secure in his job. Sure, the young girls were amazingly tempting, they developed so early on now, many of them really filling out their bras, and of course wearing ridiculously revealing clothing as though there was nothing worth covering. He even saw tattoos on some of the girls that were too young to legally have them, and piercings in places he wouldn't allow himself to get even if he was paid handsomely. He didn't judge them, though, he knew he was from a different generation. They all performed well enough in class anyway, it wasn't as though they were entirely undisciplined. None of the other teachers seemed to care enough to remark on it, so why harp on it anyhow?

He did wear his own dark brown hair long, a remnant of his own wild days that no one had yet made fun of him for, so he saw no reason to cut it, keeping it in a ponytail nearly halfway down his back. The gray was mostly concentrated in the center of the ponytail, luckily, so his age didn't show too much yet; but the somewhat unflattering glasses framing his pale blue eyes weren't a great help to enhance his looks. All of the female teachers and staff were either married or in relationships so even having just a work companion to share a romance with was out of the question, not that any of them would likely find him appealing in that way. It just seemed like bad luck had followed him since he turned 30. So he kept mostly to himself, staying in his classroom office during breaks rather than going to the teachers' lounge. No one really expected him to go anywhere other than the restroom between classes, so anyone talking about him would never suspect him to be just around a corner, especially in an area far from his classroom, where few people congregated. But he felt like taking a little walk one lunch period, and overheard something that would come to change his life forever.
 
Anna Smith was short, pale, a little pudgy. Not conventionally attractive as far as teenagers were concerned, but the male teachers would look at her a second too long every now and again. She was developed for her age. Nice chest, nice ass. Something she would be mocked or terrorized for by people her age. She tried to stick to t-shirts and jeans, hoodies when it wasn't too hot, anything to keep herself covered from prying eyes. Due to the cruel comments from others, Anna was a little awkward. She was a virgin despite how many guys tried to forcefully change that for her. Even though she didn't have a boyfriend or anyone to flirt with, her mind was still on fire with one sexual fantasy or another. Writing was her outlet. Well, writing and her friend Sandra.

"Oh my God, you are such a little slut." Sandra jokingly made fun of Anna as the shy girl's face flushed. Sandra was a good friend. Anna and she had been friends since kindergarten. Even though Sandra was popular, had plenty of boyfriends (and a lot of sex for a 15-year-old, but that was just Anna's opinion) she still stuck by Anna's side. Anna would write a new entry in her "sex book" (as Sandra called it) and then Anna would drag Sandra to a private part of the school for a bit of storytime. It was therapeutic and even though Sanda poked fun, she never truly judged Anna for what she wrote. Anna needed someone who was non-judgemental, considering the kind of things she wrote about. It was nice that that person was her best friend. Still, Anna's face was burning with embarrassment as she read from her journal.

"I had a, uh, dream two nights ago," Anna started, brushing a piece of long brown hair from her freckled face, "Mr. Billings was in my house, I think it might have been for a parent/teacher dinner or something." she gnawed at her bottom lip, her bright green eyes darting around the silent hallway as she spoke in a hushed voice, "I went to bed but apparently he hadn't left yet. Suddenly he was in my room, his hand was in his pants while he watched me. I couldn't help but throw off my blankets and slide my hand into my own underwear." Anna looked up to see Sandra's expression. The other girl was engrossed. "We were both silent, neither of us said a word. Then he walked over to my bed and turned me on to my stomach. He took his-" she paused, always struggling with saying bad words when they were involved in her fantasies, "He took his thick cock and took my virginity in one hard, painful push. I remember I was crying, but I begged him not to stop. He told me to be quiet, that he would take care of me." Sandra's face was expectant, knowing damn well that wasn't where the dream ended, "He took care of me by... Blowing his load into my stretched pussy. He left me there, bleeding and leaking his cum. He told me he would see me in class on Monday. Then I woke up to my alarm." Anna slammed her journal closed, tucking it under her arm. Sandra seemed pleased.

"I can't believe you fantasize over that guy. You know there are hotter male teachers, right?" Sandra would always start this when Anna finished her stories. He's hot to me. I don't see why it matters who I think is hot. But Sandra would always drop it, forever the supportive friend.
 
"I had a, uh, dream two nights ago, Mr. Billings was in my house, I think it might have been for a parent/teacher dinner or something."

With his ears burning after hearing his name, Norman stopped, thankfully his shoes being very cheap had soft bottoms and so his sudden halt did not alert anyone to his presence. It sounded like the voice of one of his students but he couldn't quite place it. The open hallway doors obscured him from the view of whomever he was listening to on the other side, but the peephole window allowed him a slight view of the conversation partners that had mentioned him. He didn't know why but he had the pang of curiosity to eavesdrop. What could it hurt, right? It wasn't as though the students would be rude to his face so if there was anything that they had against him, it might help to find out and then try to change that about himself to get along with them better. Or that was what he told himself to rationalize why he was being so nosy and shifty there.

But it went in an entirely different direction from what he had thought before. What the hell was this girl's mind doing, dreaming of sexual fantasies about him of all people? He couldn't see her, only the friend who was listening intently, and recognize her but didn't know that Sandra was friends with Anna, so he didn't immediately connect that it would be Anna talking there. It just got more and more graphic and he couldn't help himself, he got an erection listening to the idea of deflowering a virgin. Even though he had started sex at about their same age when he was in school, he had never managed to find an actual virgin to claim, and while that seemed like a pipe dream at this point, it was actually rather flattering that one of the girls in school thought of him in a lustful way. He wondered if...no, that would be ludicrous. At least not until she turned 18, which was bound to be years off. But would she even be interested in him by then? Plus she'd have to have graduated in order for there not to be a problem with her being a student at the school he taught at, which could have added six months to that waiting time anyway.

He frowned when Sandra compared him to the other teachers. She wasn't wrong, he knew it, he'd not been one to lie to himself about any of that, but it still hurt hearing her tearing apart the story her friend had just told. Was her friend someone not classically attractive? There were a handful of obese girls at school but they were mostly already in senior year and preparing to graduate. He didn't dare make his presence known then, hopefully at least not until Sandra left. He only wanted to talk to the girl who had described him in a favored light. Even if she had been joking, that was a very inappropriate thing to be discussing while at school, and about one of her teachers, no less. He certainly didn't want there to be any written record of this kind of thing, anything that could potentially implicate him as a child predator when that was damn certainly not the case. With people so up in arms nowadays about pedophiles in positions of power like ministers and even cops, the mere accusation of guilt was enough to convict a person in the eyes of the public even if exonerated completely, and he could still lose his job simply due to the idea of a scandal surrounding his name.

Luckily Sandra did leave, and once she was far enough away, he moved out from behind the door and peeked around the corner to see who his mystery admirer was. It would have to be one of his students, he knew the voice and just couldn't put a face or a name to it. And who but someone that had to stay with him at least an hour a day would have the time to develop that kind of crush on him? He was usually good at remembering students' names but for some reason it did not spring to mind once he saw her face. And Sandra's insulting him did kill his boner, so that was a plus. But the look on his face as their eyes met would clearly communicate that he'd heard enough of what she had said to have it be quite an incident in the making.
 
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