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From: Lou Moran <ellem@techie.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} Parent Teacher Conference (MF, reluc)
Date: Wed, 28 Nov 2001 17:10:05 -0500
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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.
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