Message-ID: <33725asstr$1006985405@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <nntp-bounce@supernews.net> X-Original-Path: news.supernews.com!not-for-mail From: Lou Moran <ellem@techie.net> X-Original-Message-ID: <3d9a0u8f87216b6k778gjhmdrh0qa3g148@4ax.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-ASSTR-Arrival-Date: Wed, 28 Nov 2001 12:58:39 -0500 Subject: {ASSM} Parent Teacher Conference (MF, reluc) Date: Wed, 28 Nov 2001 17:10:05 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2001/33725> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: newsman, gill-bates Parent Teacher Conference By ellem@techie.com -MF, reluc- One of the biggest problems teachers face in this school, and probably in every school in the whole world is that parents don't get involved enough. I don't mean that as a cop out. It doesn't make my job any easier if a parent cares about their child's education. I can just clock in my 8 hours a day for 180 days a year and get paid all the same. I didn't choose teaching though, it chose me and I want the children I teach to learn. Help from the parents reinforcing what I say and do during the school year can only help the children. If they care, the kids will too. If the parents agree with the children that there's too much homework then when the children don't do it what recourse do I have? Well certainly I can grade them accordingly. This school was actually sued by a parent who insisted that we graded too harshly. Fortunately the courts saw things our way. Unfortunately our Principle was beaten severely by the child's Uncle. Needless to say despite the favorable ruling the teachers here began to grade far less realistically. Parent Teacher Conferences should be a time when the parent can catch up with the teacher and get insight on what their child needs to learn or study. For some parents it is just that. For others it is a complete waste of time that merely interferes with their favorite TV shows. It is a waste of time for me in that case. All I want to do is get the students to learn. I take a real issue with these parents. Thursday night was the last of this year's Parent Teacher Conferences. Needless to say my worst students parents waited until the last minute to show up. I had five scheduled. Three showed. The first woman, Mrs. Baker was dressed like a hooker. She sneered at me, and my assessment of her 11-year-old hoodlum of a son. I explained the little Steve needed to really concentrate on reading and that that was a skill he would always need. She told me that it was my job and if I couldn't handle it I could kiss her ass. She stood turned and put her ass in my face. She stood there for a minute with her shiny, black PVC clad ass in my face with he finger pushed into her soft bottom. She then loudly smacked it and sat. She leaned into me. "Look at you sitting there like a mouse. Did my pretty ass make you tingle? Are you a lez? Course you are. All you college bitches are. Lem'me tell you something sweetheart. I've been getting by with my body for 38 years. I've probably had more men give me their life savings for this ass than you've ever met. Shit look at my tits, bought and paid for by a man who wanted to kiss my ass. Literally. You ought to pretty yourself up a bit and stop worrying about what Steve is going to need." She rubbed my thigh. I was paralyzed. Her body was incredible. Her face looked like it had a few hard miles on it though. Wrapped in her skintight clothes though it was clear she could make men do things. "So drop the Winona Ryder look, honey and wear something that fits. That's my advice to you. Steve is an idiot; he's just like his father. Forget him." She walked away from me and I couldn't take my eyes off of her ass. It was mesmerizing. If I were a man she would certainly have her way with me. I had never felt like she had just made me feel. So charged. I was uncomfortably moist. She was right, I did look like Winona Ryder. I had been mistaken for the star several times. I think we may have even been the same height and weight. It worked well for me in college. I got a lot of dates based solely on the fact that I was the "Winona Chick." I was wearing a simple black dress made of a thin shiny material like silk, but on my salary it certainly wasn't silk. I fidgeted in my chair waiting for Mrs. Tanwoo. I felt the uncharacteristic urge to scream at her, "Your daughter is flunking math! I thought you people were good at that!" Then she sheepishly came in and sat down. She appeared frightened. Nervous. We spoke for a few minutes and I hated myself for having racist thoughts about her. She told me little verbally but her body language was loud and clear. Her husband had long ago decided that she and her daughter were not all that important. I pitied her and resolved to work harder with Mary, which was the closest approximation American children seemed to get to Miakioshu. Mrs. Werner was supposed to be next. I had waved good-bye to the last 6th grade teacher and last male on the second floor when Mr. Werner came barreling into the room. He was initially polite but he was sizing me up. I could tell he was preparing to let me have it for the grades I had given his son so far this year. He was large and imposing. He had very light hair and I could see him sitting at home in his easy chair swatting Michael in the head, ordering him to get a beer while he watched the game. He looked like he could be mean. I imagined he controlled his family through fear. I was nervous. I didn't like the way he was looking me up and down. I didn't like the way he kept looking at the door. I was beginning to fell trapped. He stood up and shut the door quietly. "Mr. Werner, we're done here." "You know what the problem is sweetheart? Let me explain it to you because you probably don't know." "Mr. Werner, please," I said raising my hands to him as he walked me backwards to the blackboard. "The problem is that Mike is probably having a real hard time concentrating on schoolwork with a delicious piece of ass like you wiggling around in front of him. I'll bet you shake your pretty little ass when you write on the board. And these pretty little tits ain't so little are they?" He said grabbing me and squeezing my big B cups. I opened my mouth to scream and he covered most of my face with his huge paw. For good measure he banged my head against the blackboard. I knew he could have crushed my head but he just left me dizzy, and speechless. He belt was off and his pants were down in a flash. I was across my desk and he was spreading my thin, pale legs. His strength was simply incredible. He held me down with one hand and tore my panties off with the other. I was still trying desperately to clear my head. He began fingering me roughly; lifting me off of the desk with two of his thick, calloused fingers. I was gasping as he probed me very deeply. He was hitting a spot inside me that was driving me crazy. My head was clearing as he moved on top of me getting into a 69 position. He pushed his thick sweaty meat into my mouth. It was salty and smelled but as he pumped himself to a full erection his tongue and fingers worked me into frenzy. I realized as my hips humped his tongue that a brutal man who might very well kill me was raping me. My body's response was wrap my legs around his head and grind. He held my ass in his hands and forced me to an orgasm. His licking became very insistent and I could no longer suck him as I was in the throes of an orgasm. He began sucking on my pleasure center with a great force I felt lightheaded again but this time from all of the blood rushing to engorge my clit and labia. He stood again, taking off his shirt revealing his wide chest. He pulled my mouth back onto his spike and then took my 100 pounds and began forcing himself in me. He spun around and put me on the desk. He hit me hard with his cock but it would only go so deep inside my mess of pussy. He did it again making me scream out, and again. Then my muscles relented and he sank into me deeper, stretching me out. He began easing in and out of me. Then he began to pound me. Wild, jarring thrusts, echoed by his deep guttural grunts and his sweet talk. "Oh bitch, your cunt is like hot butter. You're so fucking tight. Yeah, yeah, you love it bitch. Take it all, slut. I'm gonna fuck you bow-legged." I have to admit I was amused by his tough talk. Bow-legged, indeed, Mr. Werner would win awards for cruelty but not for size. He was certainly large but certainly not the largest I'd ever had. Still he did have a knack for hitting my spot. He could do it again and again. I don't remember when or how but my dress was completely off and only my shoes remained on as he fucked me in my chair. His mouth was as good on my tits as it was on my clit and he was driving the point home; he could make me cum at will. It was his will to make me cum. It wasn't long before I was fucking him back and holding on for dear life as he thrashed into my small body. He stood for a third time and I rode him in deep, exaggerated writhing motions. He was doing a great job on me. His tough talk was soon whispers in my ear. "Mmmm. Ms. Calendar you're real good fuck. I'm gonna blow, where do you want it? Come-on baby; where do you want it?" He slid me off of his massive body and I took him in my mouth and he immediately began to pump thick, hot cum in my mouth. I swallowed him. He was sweating and he stunk of old beer and musk. I began to gather my clothes but he took them from my hand and bent me over my desk. He pushed himself in deeply. He had full access to my body and he used it. I was amazed at his ability to continue hitting the spot. My tits felt good on the cold veneer desktop. Then it occurred to him as it occurred to me what would happen next. He yanked himself out of me and there was a loud wet smacking sound followed by my groans. No one had ever done what he was clearly going to do to me. The only soft part of his cock was his huge mushroom head and it snuck its way into my anus as the rigid shaft forced it in. As soon as he had breeched me he began to tear me apart with what now felt like the biggest cock in the planet. Within minutes I was full of his meat. He spread my cheeks to get the final inches of his pole in me. He was filling me so completely that his cock was pressing the spot in my sopping cunt against the bottom, literally squeezing it. It drove me wild. Wilder. I couldn't speak coherently but my thoughts were all on the driving cock inside me. My mouth remained agape as I panted like a hot dog, tongue wagging and all. It was an amazing feeling. The terror and rage of the situation, forced to fuck. The feeling of Mr. Werner's expert fucking with his big dick, the new sensation of being reamed and having my buttons all pushed at once was overwhelming. My concentration shattered, my body going numb and his body wracking thrusts all converging on me. Attacking my senses, my sense. The burn and release, the friction and the glide, my body filled with this man who took me so easily. It just kept coming at me. Relentless. I snapped. My body went limp. Everything got very quiet. My vision blurred. Like an avalanche it built inside me. My body exploded as I stabbed myself deeply onto his weapon. My mouth screamed, my eyes teared, my pussy spat thick, viscous cum, his and mine and I shook violently as my entire being came. He broke me. Mr. Werner pulled his softening cock from my ass and he rolled me over kissing my amazingly sensitive chest as I tremored from the orgasm I just experienced. Then his kissed my mouth deeply but I was too dumb fucked to respond. I lay, limp and exhausted on my desk, which was wet with cum, sweat and blood. I have never been so fully fucked in my 24 years. He slapped his now limp meat on me getting the final drops of cum out and he took my hand and rubbed it in. "See if Mikey can't pull an A this quarter; OK?" At least he was getting involved. -- Like this one? ellem@techie.com -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+