(These events are from the viewpoint of Christine Johnson, High School biology teacher.)

I’m not that kind of person. I’ve always done things the right way. I’m a good person. So why did I do it. I could have just walked away and forgotten all about it. I should report it to the police, or at least to the principal. It was wrong. WRONG. Right?

I flopped down into my only cozy chair in my small apartment. I took of my jacket and laid it on the table, and flipped on the TV. I could just forget about it….

I’m not a prune, and don’t think the worst of me, but I’m still a virgin at twenty-five. I was an only child to some very reputable parents. They were members of the country club, and rotary, and did everything the ‘proper’ way. I went to dances and politely kissed boys the way Mother had shown me at the end of the night, but always felt that they wanted something more.

For the fact, I wanted more, but with my parents always just on the other side of the door, I never did anything more. When finally I got ready to leave for college, Mother pulled some strings and I got in the prestigious Ivy League college that allowed me to room at our summer home. I was dying to get away and live life, but couldn’t argue with my parents. Mother moved with me and every day was the same, just like high school all over again.

After that Mother wanted me to go to begin teaching university with Father, but I finally weaseled out that I’d need experience teaching at a more basic level first, like Father had, and he had to agree with her there. She almost got me a job at the local high school too, but fate had given me an out when this little town a few hours away had somehow gotten my transcripts and was searching for a biology teacher, and that I’d be perfect.

I don’t know how it happened, but I’d finally escaped. Escaped to a lonely small apartment, endless days of working, preparing tests, grading tests, then more reading and working; escaped. The first summer was just returning home and meeting friends of my parents, mostly older divorcees that I felt my Mother was trying to pimp me out to.

I’d hid in my room most of the time, just reading my romance novels I’d bought. It was the only escape I truly had. I imagined my Romeo holding me close, kissing me tenderly, then in the moonlight we’d make love…

DAMN IT! I shut of the TV as forcefully as I could press the button and unbuttoned the top few buttons of my blouse to cool off. OK, so I can’t stop thinking about what I’d seen. I started to replay the scene over once more in my head.

I’d always been friendly with Edward Font at the High School that we both taught at. He was a few years older than me, and I’d just started last year teaching biology in the room across the hall from his. He is not a real looker, but more a normal handsome and reliable type. I’d have asked him out if he wasn’t already married.

Well, if I wasn’t so damn shy. Ok, that’s a lie; I can barely speak up to quiet the class when things get rowdy. I always loved examining all living things and the wonder of nature, so becoming a biologist was always my dream. But I found field work was out of my league, I just wasn’t bold enough, so I switched to teaching in college. It was easy enough to get by most of the time, and when I was hired here I thought this would be terrific. There are only two weeks of class that I still have a hard time with, the frog dissection and sexual organs.

The kids are merciless, making wise-cracks, cat-calls, and writing dirty notes to each other and even in some cases to ME! I always just ignore them and focus on the science lesson and the work. Eventually that part of the curriculum is over and things are fine again.

Ed would sometimes share lunch with me since we both ate in our classrooms, and could see each other across the hall. He was the one who really welcomed her to the most to this school. It’d only been a few months into her second school year here when Ed had to take time off because his wife was giving birth to their first child. Twin girls the rumor mill said as one of the teachers was gossiping and she’d overheard.

Then two weeks later he came back today for classes. She wanted to say something between classes, but students were all crowded around him until the next class started. When lunch break came, I walked to the fridge in the teacher’s lounge to get her lunch, and planned to come back and have lunch with him.

While most of the student body was packing into the lunch room one pretty young blonde student, Becky Whitman, yea that was her name, was walking past her. She looked confident and sure as she walked by and entered Ed’s room. I didn’t think anything of it until I’d gotten my lunch and saw as I returned that the door was closed and the window shade drawn closed so I couldn’t see in.

As I approached I was about to knock when I realized that with the quiet hall I could actually hear faintly what was being said inside if I leaned close to the door. “Becky, you promised to keep this in your room.” Ed was saying a little loudly, like he was scared or upset.

Becky said something, but must be saying it softly, or not facing the door because I couldn’t make it out. Then it was deathly quiet inside. Moments slipped by, but nothing more was said so I quietly cracked the door open. All it took was a crack and I was suddenly given the shock of my life. Becky was on her knees in front of her Algebra teacher. Wet sounds quietly emanated out, and Ed had his eyes sewn shut, hit mouth gaping open as Becky bobbed her head in and out of his groin!

OH MY GOD! I’d thought to myself. This couldn’t be happening. I should walk away. I should report them. I should barge in and stop them. I should scream. Did I do any of those things? No.

I stood there, my lunch in one hand, the doorknob in the other, still as stone and just watched. After a few moments Becky’s sucking did something to Edward. He looked down at her, placed his hands on the top of her head, on grasping her ponytail, and then forced himself into her hard. He grunted muscularly and she started to make gagging sounds, but didn’t resist.

Now, reliving it in my head my hands roamed over my body, uncontrolled from the heat emanating from my skin that needed to be quenched. I undid the rest of my blouse buttons so I could cup my bra clad breasts and removed my glasses and set them up in my bunned hair.

I remembered as he held the blonde girl’s head as he pistoned his manhood deep in her throat and I reflexively sucked on two of my own fingers now, thinking about the feel of a cock in my own mouth and wishing that had been me instead. Oh how I wished I could have seen more than just the back of her head.

My other hand ran over my thighs and over my stomach before reaching down to find my crotch through my skirt. I was so hot I was dizzy. I’d never felt this way before in all the years I’d been reading those steamy love stories they never has such raw lust as I’d seen today. I’d always felt that creamy tingle, but watching true passion in front of my eyes seemed to set me on fire down there.

I had to pee I decided. I removed my skirt in the bathroom and then my panties, finding them sticky and wet. Sitting on the toilet in just my bra I released myself and it helped to ease the feelings I was feeling.

After cleaning up and having dinner I turned in and reached for one of my favorite novels, all stacked neatly at the shelf on the head of my bed. I relaxed and read, but when the first encounter between the hero and the damsel came, I imagined her kneeling down in from of him, extracting his ‘love’ from his pants.

Soon her hair was blonde and I found my hand was massaging my naked pussy and it felt great. I kept the memory going and remembered Ed’s guttural cry and Becky’s strangled gags until she could take no more and pushed him away. That was when she’d seen her first penis in real life. It was pointing up, long and hard, spurting out the last few spurts of his sticky white love into the empty air until is slowly started to sag down and shrink, leaking out more of his semen onto his pants and the floor.

Suddenly my finger brushed my clitoris and my vagina shook. “Oh!” I’d surprised myself with how good that felt, then slowly returned to touch it again, sending more earthquakes of pleasure through my body. I desperately visualized the cum lacking from his urethral opening at the end of his penis and the guttural cry as he expunged into the girl young mouth.

I know I must have had my first real orgasm then. It was strained and lacked the romance that her books always said it would be like, and while she had read enough essays on human reproduction they were always so clinical and bland that I really never knew it would feel so good.

Why didn’t anyone ever look at me that way he did just before I’d closed the door silently. After Ed had recovered he had looked at Becky with the same look all the guys on the covers of my novels did. It was pure and unconditional love. He may be a cheating man, but I just couldn’t endanger a love like that. I’d left to my room and closed the door, not hungry for lunch any more, and classes had started again shortly afterwards anyway.

I saw him later leaving school to go home to his wife and newborn children and then come home myself. Now here I am, lying alone in my bed, masturbating to my voyeuristic chance encounter. I cried myself to sleep, trying to roll the blankets around me to imagine someone, anyone, holding me.