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I love being a teacher (1)

Teen
2010-07-13





"I don't know Joanne, it's like the kids don't respect me" I shook my head and took another sip of the coffee in front of me.

"Maybe it's because you're so young, they don't see you as authority. This is only your second year teaching John, don't be so hard on yourself" Joanne patted my shoulder. It was times like these that I missed sharing a room with her. Though not having a shared room has its advantages, but I'll get to those later.

"Yeah I guess. You ever have that problem?"

She laughed, "I'm a mother John, of course I have those problems. You just have to stand your ground and make sure it's known that you wear the pants!" Joanne was in her mid forties with two teenage kids, so she was used to being around high schoolers. Me on the other hand, had only a year of teaching experience under my belt.

"Well lunch is almost up and I have to get the projector working again. . . damn thing never seems to want to work for me" she stood up and pulled her long blonde hair back in a pony tail. I admired her round juicy ass as she turned around and walked back to her desk. She always wore the tightest pants even though she didn't exactly have the body of someone that should, not that I minded, I prefer a bit of meat on the bones.

"You like the view?" Joanne's words brought me out of my trance.

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"Uh uh. . . " I blushed and looked away, not sure of what to say.

She giggled though. Was that good or bad? I couldn't tell. My cheeks grew redder. "Lunch again tomorrow right?" she gave me a small coy smile.

"Uh, right, yeah, talk to you later" I stumbled out of her room and down the hall till I came to my room, 203. I unlocked the door and walked in. Now, for the reasons I love having my own room. The setup was perfect. You walk in to the back of the classroom, all the desks are in the rows with my desk it the top left corner.

This way, I can rub one out any time I need, even if there are students in the room. I know that sounds risky, but I've only done it a few times, and besides, the risk is what makes it fun.

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I quickly jotted down my next class's busy work on the white board - read pg. 69 through 84 in the text book and answer questions 3-8. I usually don't assign busy work, I like to be more hands on, but I just wasn't feeling it today.

The next class was my worst class. It was lower level U. S. history, full of the most disrespectful little degenerates in the school. The worst one though, was Lauren Blakes. She didn't look like it though, she looked more like the perfect little angel. I'm guessing she was about five five, with cute little perky boobs and long thick brown hair. She was always looking up at you through her lashes, it was mesmerizing. Yet annoying. Oh yes, she was annoying as anything, as most teenagers are.

She was your average teen brat I guess you could say. She seemed spoiled, obviously had no ambition for school or work, was usually texting, talking loudly, or doing her makeup.

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   I hated girl's like her when I was in high school. . . but, of course, was also fapping to the very thought of them naked every night.

But I regress. My class filtered in within minutes and, as expected, sat down to socialize ignoring the instructions on the board.

"Class. . . class. . . . CLASS" I repeated a bit louder. Still, no one seemed to hear me.

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   Or cared. "Class! Your work is on the board" I tried to shout over the loud chatter. "HEY listen up!" I smacked the desk hard, finally able to get the class's attention. "As I was saying, your work is on the board. You don't need to talk for the assignment-"

"Oh my god, pleeeease shut up" I heard which was met with hardly covered giggles.



"But I will let you listen to your music as long as it's not disruptive. . " I tried to ignore it.

"Nope he just keeps going and going. . . like the fucking energizer bunny. "

More giggles.

I looked where the voice had came from, it was Lauren - as I expected. "Lauren, do you want to say something?"

"Your zipper is down" she said simply, batting her lashes innocently.

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   I looked down quickly, only to see that my zipper was indeed up. I looked up to the class laughing and eyeing my crotch. Fantastic.

"Thank you Lauren, maybe if you put as much attention into your work as you do my pants, you wouldn't have a 49. " For some reason I thought this would embarrass her. I'm a moron.

She laughed, "as if anyone cares about this stupid ass class. It's retarded. Just. Like. You" she emphasized the last three years with a sweet little smile. The class was in an uproar now. I was losing all the little respect I had. I would be forever known as the teacher that lets the students walk all over him. I needed to do something fast to shut this bitch up.

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"Think what you'd like. Class, start the work, it's due at the end of class. By the way Lauren, detention" I sat down at my desk, not entirely pleased with my rebuttal, but it would have to do. I glanced at Lauren, she was. . . smiling? Her blue eyes were twinkling, and I had a horrible feeling in my stomach. She was up to something.


-------------------------------------------------------


It was finally the end of the day, I waited patiently at my desk, wondering if Lauren would skip, or, worse, she would come. I let my mind wander at the thought. . . she. would. come.

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   come. cum. . . Was she a virgin? Doubtful. She seemed mildly popular with boys, but not the girl that was flirting with every guy in a 18 mile radius. Did she have a boyfriend? Not that I knew. . . couldn't see why she didn't though, she was sexy. I could see her lying on her back, her long hair swirled around her face, she cheeks flushed. . . there was sweat dripping down her neck to her chest. .

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  . her rosey nipples, oh how I'd love to kiss them, let my tongue flick across them. And then lower my head down her body. . . And she grab at the back of my head, and say my name. . .

"Mr. H?"

. . . the fuck? I opened my eyes.

Oh shit! How long had Lauren been standing in front of my desk?! I glanced down to see if my boner was apparent. It was.

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   I looked back up at her face. She was looking down at my crotch. . . and smiling.



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