The Unassuming Mrs. Huxley

There have been women in my life that I fantasized about fucking. During my senior year in high school the woman I fantasized most about was my math teacher. Now there’s a rare high school fantasy for you. I wanted to be in between the legs of a little mousy middle-aged brunette. The teacher to whom no one would consider giving a second look. The unassuming Mrs. Huxley.

Denise Huxley stood at five feet two inches and weighed about 115 pounds. Her straight shoulder length chestnut brown hair looked so soft, I wanted to bury my face in it. Mrs. Huxley’s doe-like brown eyes, warm smile, and cute little petite figure would bring me a to instant erection every time I saw her. Don’t ask me why, she just did. When she walked by in the school hallway on her way to class I would take a deep breath so I could take in the odor of her perfume as she passed. She always smelled of vanilla musk. The slightest scent of it would have me reeling.

As she walked by I would sneak the opportunity to look at her shapely legs. They weren’t long by any means but I still found them sexy as hell especially on the days when she wore black hose and those conservative 3-inch navy blue pumps. On extremely cold days her nipples would protrude through her blouse. They looked like pencil eraser tips and I would just dream about pinching, nibbling, and sucking on them. In class I would always hope for a beaver shot on the days when Huxley sat on the corner edge of her desk. Sometimes the fates would be kind and I would indeed catch a glimpse of her panty hosed covered crotch. I don’t think she realized how far apart her legs were spread when she sat on the edge. Mrs. Huxley could be a space cadet at times.

Combine everything from the above then add that little sway in her ass as she walked and I would be ready to come right then and there in my pants. Deep down inside I knew it would only be a matter of time before I would get her in front of me buck ass naked and screaming in orgasmic ecstasy. At times I couldn’t believe the desires I felt for the 41-year-old divorcee. I wanted to fuck her for all she was worth. But how exactly do you get a middle-aged, educated woman interested in an adolescent boy?

If it weren’t for that faithful day at the local McDonald’s, Mrs. Huxley would just be another teacher with who I would have to contend instead as the object of my darkest desires.

Everything started out innocently enough. It was a bright, warm, lazy summer day, one week away from the start of my senior year in school and I was enjoying a Big Mac with my friend, Benny the Beaner. Beaner has been my friend all through grade school and now we were going into the last phase of public education together. We didn’t know what was going to happen to us as friends after we finished high school but we both knew we should make our time as seniors a memorable one. It happened to be the topic of our conversation on that day.

“We should do something that will make us both legends.” Beaner said through a mouthful of French fries.

“I couldn’t agree more.” I commented. “But we’re geeks and that limits us.”

“We’re geeks with brains. The possibilities can be endless.”

Now there was a comment I couldn’t argue. It was right about then I saw Mrs. Huxley walk in McDonald’s with Mrs. O’Connell, the science teacher from my junior year. From the packages they were carrying it appeared they were together shopping at the mall.

One of the things I noticed right way was the light blue cotton sundress Mrs. Huxley wore. With the sunlight shining from behind, her body became silhouetted in the dress to the point where I could image her naked. The soft curves and well-formed short legs came through the translucent material. That in of itself peaked my interest. Truly, I became mesmerized with her body. The spell was only broken by the groaning of Bennie the Beaner.

“Oh shit. It’s Dr. Death and the Mouse.”

I turned to Beaner and looked at him in a puzzled way. “Who in the fuck are you talking about?”

“Mrs. O’Connell and Mrs. Huxley. Doctor Death and the Mouse.”

“Okay, I can understand why Mrs. O’Connell is Dr. Death. I mean she’s a hard ass bitch science teacher. But why are you calling Mrs. Huxley the Mouse?”

“Because, David, my fellow geekazoid, Mrs. Huxley is the type who goes through life completely unnoticed. She lives a very quiet and unexciting existence. Look at her. There isn’t one thing exciting about Huxley. Not even her looks. She’s a mouse.”

I wanted to disagree with Beaner about Mrs. Huxley’s looks Seeing the sun shine through her light cotton sundress made my cock ready to rip through my jeans. After what happened next I was truly surprised it didn’t. Huxley and O’Connell put their packages in the booth across from the Beaner and me then went to the counter to place their orders. This didn’t please the Beaner too well. He was of the ilk that teachers and students should be on separate planets when it was summer vacation time. If it weren’t for the fact Beaner was starting on his second Big Mac we would have left.

As for me, I didn’t care one way or the other. As a matter of fact I was hoping for another sun shot of Huxley. My dick perked up with anticipation of the thought of seeing the silhouette of the hottest little middle-aged bitch I knew.

Huxley and O’Connell got their orders from the counter and returned to their booth. As they sat down Huxley reached over to get something out of her shopping bag to show O’Connell.

I guess she didn’t notice that the stretching action had caused a few buttons of her sundress to become undone near her thigh. The dress opened more as she spread her legs wider and it was then I saw what only could be interpreted as my vision of heaven. There, before my excited eyes was the crotch of Mrs. Huxley’s white cotton Hanes for Her panties. To make matters even more mouth watering delicious my eyes zeroed in on the tuffs of dark pubic hair poking from the leg band of her panties. My imagination worked itself into hyper-drive and soon I pictured myself between her legs licking and sucking on those hairs. Smelling the aroma of her damp hot pussy, tasting the woman juice as it oozed out of her wonderful crack.

“I have got to go.” announcing my intentions to Beaner.

In mid-bite Beaner looked up and asked, “Why?”

My pecker screamed to get out of my jeans and seek relief. It was the most amazing raging hard-on I ever experienced up to that point in my life. I had to get the hell out of there as fast as my legs could carry me.

“I’ll tell you later. Right now I have to get out of here.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s roll.”

I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I high-tailed it to my old ‘87 GMC S-15. The truck was beat up and a bit ratty, but it was my sanctuary on wheels. Beaner ran to keep up with my pace. I was trying very hard to keep my back to Beaner. I couldn’t let him see the super hard erection bulging in my jeans. Not until I could tell him the reason for my jumping teenage meat missile. As we drove back to my house I explained to him, in great detail, what I witnessed at Mickey Dees. He sat there dumbfounded.

“You fucking bastard.” he whined. “You saw pussy hair and you didn’t bother bringing it to my attention. What a prick.”

“I want to fuck her, Beaner. I‘m going to fuck her.”

“Have you lost your mind? You can’t fuck her.”

“Why not?” I asked indignantly.

Beaner, being the good friend, explained to me the numerous reasons why I couldn’t play in Mrs. Huxley’s pussy with my dick. I looked my chubby companion in the eye and threw back the very words he spoke at the McDonald’s.

“The possibilities can be endless.”

“When I said that, I didn’t mean playing pecker pogo in the Mouse’s pussy.”

“Instead of being a sarcastic asshole why don’t you help me?”

“What would you like me to do? Hold her skirt up while you’re pumping her poon?”

That was a possible scenario, I thought, but really I didn’t have an answer for him. All I could think of at the moment was Mrs. Huxley’s pussy.

Later that evening I went up to my room and whacked off to thoughts of Denise Huxley, the Hanes for Her panties, and the tuffs of luscious pubic hair peeking from the constraints of her panty crotch. The cum shot from my prick and hit the ceiling with a resounding splat. I lay on my bed and looking at the wad in total amazement and wondered how the fuck I was going to get it off the ceiling without my mom asking too many questions.

Three weeks into the new school year and I had to satisfy myself with an occasional up skirt view of Mrs. Huxley’s pantyhose covered snatch, (which wasn’t bad on the days she wore nude colored hose) or a peek down her blouse for a little tantalizing sight of her small well rounded titties with the eraser tip nipples. Slowly I was becoming a sexual wreck. The little monster in my pants hungered for some tasty Huxley cunt. Still, I was at a loss for a plan of action.

Then unexpectedly one weekend Beaner showed up at my house. There was a certain swagger to his walk, a look of arrogance on his face. Which meant he knew something I didn’t. I looked at him and asked the proverbial, “Well?”

Beaner smiled and then answered me with a most interesting story. He started by explaining in great detail how he looked up Mrs. Huxley’s address on the Internet to obtain directions to her house. I wasn’t too impressed with what he was telling me. After all I could have done that much myself.

Slowly I was becoming bored with that little tidbit. However, what he told me next did perk up my interest. Beaner followed the directions to Mrs. Huxley’s house and discovered it was located on a lone country road. The nearest neighbor in either direction was a few miles away. With the house being so isolated he decided to park his car and take a hike through the woods behind her house. He thought if he could spy on her for a while he may find something out that I might be able to use in my planned seduction. Little did I know his action would soon prove to be the correct one to take?

As luck would have it from his vantage point he was able to see down into her house. With the help from a pair of high-powered binoculars he was able to look directly into her bedroom. What he described next made my head pound with excitement. Beaner said he watched the house for what seemed to be about twenty minutes or so without a damned thing happening. At that point he was ready to leave and go home. Then Mrs. Huxley entered the bedroom. Beaner thought she must have been doing the housework because he watched her put away a vacuum cleaner in the bedroom closet. He also figured she must have been getting ready to take a shower because she began to strip out of her pullover sweater, bra, jeans, and panties. The visual of her stripping was enough to perk up my pecker, but then his story began to take a twist. It suddenly became even more juicer than I could ever hope.

Beaner saw her go to the nightstand by the bed and pull out a twelve inch purple dildo. The thought of her having a dildo made my heart pound to the point where I thought it would burst from my chest. He then relayed how she lay on the bed with her legs spread wide open showing a great amount of wild bushy pubic hair. He said she placed her hand over her pussy and spreads open her lips with two fingers. Her pink labia lips were glistening with her own juices as she shoved and pulled the phallic with wild abandon. The hand she used to open her cunt was now rubbing her clit furiously.

Beaner painted an erotic verbal picture of Huxley pushing her hips up to meet each downward stroke of the purple plastic dick she held in her hands. He told me how she was thrashing all over the bed and how he could hear yelling in self-gratification ecstasy. It took her about 10 minutes to reach an orgasm and a screaming one at that he said. My breathing was getting heavy and I could feel my dick getting slimy with pre-cum as my imagination ran wild.

“You got to see her play with herself and you never even thought of me. Some friend.” I chided.
“If I wasn’t your friend would I have gotten you this?”
With great flair, Beaner reached inside his backpack and produced, what had become in my mind already, the legendary purple twelve-inch dildo. Holding it up as if it were the Holy Grail. I swore for a moment there was an eerie light emanating from it.
Beaner told me in great detail how he waited for Mrs. Huxley to leave the bedroom and go into the bath to take a shower. He then crept down to the house and onto the patio where he found the sliding glass door to be open. While she was in the shower, Beaner snuck into the bedroom and stole Huxley’s little love toy and then made a hasty exit.
I appreciated the fact the Beaner risked a charge of breaking and entering to retrieve the sex toy but I had to look at him with a blank stare. “What the fuck am I suppose to do with that?”
“Use it as a key to get into the Mouse’s pussy, asshole.”
“How?”
“That’s your problem.”
With that Beaner tossed the dildo onto my bed and left. Later that night I sniffed it and picked up the aroma of Mrs. Huxley’s pussy. It aroused me to the point where all I had to do was sniff and cum. Thank goodness for economy sized boxes of facial tissue.
The next day I took the plastic cock to school with me. Keeping it hidden in my backpack I knew it would be easy to smuggle it in past the metal detectors. Even though I didn’t have a clue on how I was going to use it to get into Denise Huxley’s pussy, but I reasoned the best thing to do would be to make it up as I went along.
Luckily for me math was the last class of the day. Otherwise I would have had to do something extremely stupid to in order to stay after school so I be with Mrs. Huxley. But I thought it best to linger behind after the rest of the class left for the day. I reasoned if I did something really dumb she wouldn’t take me seriously enough. No, I had to be cool. I made up my mind this would have to be the day. The day I would pork the middle-aged pussy of my dreams.
When I walked into class, Mrs. Huxley was seated at her desk. She wore a charcoal gray business suit, matching pumps with three-inch heels and a mauve silk blouse. I particularly liked the blouse on her because it provided an optimum view of her titties when she bent down. I always took advantage of the view whenever the opportunity arose to look down. She sat at the desk with her legs crossed making the hem of her skirt push back enough to expose some luscious thigh. That particular day she wore the nude pantyhose I loved so much. I began to wonder what color panties she wore.
It was the longest forty-five minutes of my entire life up to then. I could hardly pay attention to the lesson being taught that day. All I could think of was Huxley naked on her desk with her legs spread and me pumping my teenaged pecker in and out of her bush-covered hole. I was slammed out of my fantasy by the loud clanging of the bell signaling the end of class and the end of the day. Sticking to my plan I lingered behind while the rest of the class filed out. As the last student left I rose from seat and closed the door.
Mrs. Huxley looked up from her lesson plan and turned her head to look at me.
“David? What are you doing?”
"I didn't want us to be interrupted.”
She looked at me with a quizzical look on her face.
“Is there something wrong, David?”
I slowly walked toward her. Reaching inside my backpack I pulled out the purple monster plastic cock and tossed it on her desk. It landed with a resounding thud.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she screamed at me, “Get that filthy thing off of my desk!”
“Don’t you recognize it, Mrs. Huxley? It’s yours. Don’t you miss it?”
Mrs. Huxley rose quickly from her seat. There was absolute anger in eyes. Her words were lashing out at me, “I’m surprised at you, David. You’re one of my best students. Now I just don’t know what to think of you! Tomorrow you, your parents, and I are going to have a meeting in the principal’s office!”
I moved closer to Mrs. Huxley. Standing almost toe-to-toe with her. I casually reached out my hand gently caressed her cheek, “I don’t think so, Mrs. Huxley. Not unless you want me to bring the photos of you using your toy.”
There were no photos, of course, but I thought, what the hell, since I was in it this deep I might as well go for broke. Then I took my index finger and touched her lips, rubbing her soft red lip-gloss onto my finger. My eyes locked onto hers and I could sense her fear and apprehension. By then I had her pressed against the windowsill.
My finger became insistent; I wanted to insert it into her mouth. Huxley tried to shake her head but I held it in place with my left hand. “Suck my finger”, I ordered.
Her tongue found my finger and she began to lick and suck on it as if it were a small erect penis in her mouth. As I pulled my finger away I noticed she was panting a bit. I couldn’t really tell if it was from fear or sexual excitement.
“What do you want from, David?” she asked with the slightest tremble in her voice. “Is it money? Do you want money?”
“No, baby” I said. “I just want you.”
My lips started to kiss the left side of her neck as she cowered against the hard windowsill. I could tell she was becoming totally frightened. By then my right hand was under her skirt rubbing the crotch of her pantyhose. The feel of the nylon material and the warmth of her pussy on my hand excited me to the point of no return. To my surprise and delight her crotch was becoming soaked.
I thought I heard her take in a deep breath as my left hand dropped to her chest. Quickly it was under and inside her silken blouse, flipping her bra cup over her right boob my fingers began searching for the nipple. Soon I found the nipple and began to put pressure on it between my thumb and forefinger. Mrs. Huxley’s nipple responded to the touch becoming erect and hard. I began to increase the pressure just to let her know I was in charge. She sucked in a breath of air hard as I pinched just a little more.
I planted small light kisses along the left side of her neck. Nuzzling it for second so I could take in the aroma of her hair. It smelled like lilac.
To my astonishment I saw a set of tears running from her eyes. Suddenly I realize why she was crying. After all here I was; an eighteen-year-old male student with a forty-one-year old female teacher shoved against the wall with me savagely twisting her right nipple while playing with her panty hosed covered pussy. That turned me on even more and fed my desire for full control even more.
My fingers tightened around her rock hard eraser tip nipple. She continued to cry.
"No, please don’t do that.” she managed to utter.
"Unbutton the blouse baby.” came my quick reply.
Her nipple was being cruelly twisted between my nimble fingers. Her eyes were begging me to stop the torment but my fingers continued to flick and pinch her nipple.
She hesitated a moment and then began unbuttoning her blouse. As it opened her lacey navy blue bra was exposed. Huxley let both the jacket to the business suit and blouse slide off her arms and onto the floor. By then I also had the skirt bunched up around her hips with my right hand cupping her left ass cheek. I was kneading it like dough for bread. My left leg was in between hers, my thigh digging into her snatch. She responded by bending her knees slightly to position her entire pussy on my thigh, then she ever so slowly began rocking and grinding her hips. I could tell she didn’t do it to pull away; she was becoming turned on by then. The crying stopped completely and her breathing became rapid.
My left hand reached around to undo the three clasps that held the bra together. She let it slide down her arms and like the jacket and blouse it landed on the floor in a heap. I admired her small round tits for a moment. They sagged just a bit and there were a few stretch marks on both boobies. I have to admit they weren’t the firm knockers I imagined she possessed; still they were decent for a woman her age. Her nipples were a surprise. The aureoles were the size of tollhouse cookies and they were a pinkish brown color. I placed my lips on the nipple I had been tormenting and began to suck on it.