One of My Teachers

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One of My Teachers
By BillieBob
audrey-hepburn_1.jpg
Ever get a crush on one of your teachers in school?
If you’re lucky, you only make a fool of yourself!
Another tale that’s a ‘little different’. Like me.

Contains references to sexual activity between consenting adults. If you are an adult you can’t read it.
I mean if you aren’t.

Chapter One
In the beginning, there was Man…. Oops, sorry wrong story.
My name is Phillip Wright. Or rather it was up until starting my freshman year in High school. Then things started to change on the first day in English class. I saw her, my English teacher, Miss Faith Simonson. She looked like Audrey Hepburn a little, but with red hair. Same hair style, but the most gorgeous red hair I ever saw. I still turn to jelly just looking back and remembering. It didn’t take long for me to realize she knew or sensed how I felt. You know, that all-knowing little grin, perhaps a little smug. Looking back that look said, “Welcome to my web, said the spider to the fly.” Yes, I most certainly felt like the fly. Immobilized wrapped within those high tension silken threads, tightly bound, unmoving. Every day was pure torture in her classroom. It was a wonder I earned a passing grade. I believe she graded me on a curve. So enraptured was I with her overpowering beauty and charm. Her 6 foot height towered over my meek 5 foot 8 inches. I wonder if I looked as foolish to her as to the rest of the class. Slowly I survived till the summer break between Sophomore and Junior year when I turned 18. Yes, 18 because of being held back in Grade School.

Then I saw her. It was in a large town in the next county in the parking lot of a supermarket. There she was, as beautiful as ever. I was drawn to her like a moth to the flame. We started talking about things. To this day I don’t remember what we said during the conversation. I can only guess my age was one of them. I forgot why I went there before seeing her. Maybe to shop for groceries since it was a supermarket.

I remember we went out to dinner someplace, and ate something. After that we ended up at her place for dessert and some wine. At some point we ended up in her boudoir. There I had received my first shock. When our clothes were discarded I saw she was a fully functioning hermaphrodite! Well, maybe it wasn’t a shock. Just a surprise! Then began my education in earnest! I went from a fumbling virgin who didn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground to an accomplished sexual partner. It was truly a religious experience giving and receiving pleasure. We were very discreet during all that time.

Then during my junior year a week before Halloween she seemed to grow cold. She wouldn’t see me. She wouldn’t talk with me. And all that time I thought that she cared as deeply for me as I did for her. I begged and pleaded and groveled, finally wearing her down.
“Oh my dear sweet boy, it’s not safe for you to see me at this time.” She said.
“Is that what I am? Just a boy, not even a man?” I asked. “What do you mean it’s not safe, is there someone threatening you?”
“No, it’s me. I’m the one who’ll endanger you if you see me at this time.” She said.
“I don’t care. I love you. If you turn me away you may as well cut out my heart, because I’ll be just as dead.”
She started to cry at that point, leaning on my shoulder. I gently guided her inside her home and took her into her bedroom. There, I gave her comfort.

The next morning I woke up, and saw how peaceful she looked still sleeping. I think I fell in love even more. As I laid there watching her gently breathing I realized I needed to use the bathroom. I rolled over and got an overpowering shock. The sensation of two rather large breasts on my chest! What was my next reaction? Well, to scream you silly goose! Of course that woke her up and she spent the next half hour calming me down. Sure she calmed me down! By carrying me into the bathroom and not too gently dumping me in the tub/shower and spraying me with ice cold water! I finally stopped fainting and or throwing up. She then climbed in and lovingly cleaned the both of us up.

Later after drying me and then brushing out my now red hair in her boudoir, stood me in front of a full length mirror. There we stood. The same as far as equipment goes. Redheaded hermaphrodites! Granted, she was still a couple of inches taller than me, but we were alike enough to be related.

“Phillip, now do you see why I said it wasn’t safe for you?” Faith asked.
As I stood there with tears still streaming down my cheeks and splashing against my breasts, I nodded my head. As I looked down I saw I was the same there too! I guess I forgot for a moment. Perhaps wishful it was thinking instead. What was I going to do? What about my family? She must have read my mind as to a solution.

“Well it looks like I gained a niece.” Faith offered.
“What?”
“Do you have a better idea or notion?”
“No, I don’t have any ideas. But what about my family, and the fact of Phillip disappearing?” I asked.
“We’ll take one step at a time. Things have a way of working out on their own sometimes. Have a little faith.” She giggled.
“You’re a riot, Alice. How do I go back and finish school? What about identification and everything?” I asked.
“Don’t you worry you pretty little head, I have ‘connections’.” She said. “But first things first we have to get you dressed and to my doctor.”
“Why?”
“To get you on birth control pills, or you’ll end up pregnant you silly goose.”
“Oh. Are you saying both my ‘innie and outie’ are functional?” I asked, blushing.
“Yes, you win the prize. That’s why the birth control pills. In theory you could possibly knock yourself up. Also we get you your identification all sorted out. And then we get to go SHOPPING!” She enthused.
“Okay.”
“Cheer up, it could’ve been worse.”
“WHAT? HOW WORSE COULD IT GET?” I screamed.
“Well, you could’ve ended up looking like a troll or maybe like Medusa.”
“Whoopty-fucking-doo-dah-day.”
SMACK!!!
“As my niece I’ll expect better behavior out of you young lady!”
“Yes Auntie.”
“That’s much better, Priscilla.” She said while kissing the hand print she left on my cheek. Right where she bitch-slapped me.
“What? YOU HIT ME!” I said still a little slow.
“Well are you still going to call yourself Phillip? You look a little too girly for that name.”
“I guess so.”
“Now let’s get all made up and dressed. You need to meet your public, you know.” She giggled.
“I suppose so.” Gag me with a fork.
“ALRIGHTY THEN, LET’S GET TO IT!”

Chapter Two
I wasn’t enthused. I was still in shock. Make that catatonic. Something like a zombie, but without the smell of rotting flesh peeling and dropping off. First was the most embarrassing part, the lingerie. Her panties, hell her thong had fit okay I guess. Damn thing riding in my crack. I kept trying to dig it out. Her giggling and slapping my hands drove me crazy. We almost came to blows. Then her bra came next. I think I’m a bit bigger than her. She stopped giggling. Serves her right! The Damn Bitch! Oh no, I think I’m having PMS, or hormonal overload! Then a garter belt under the thong. It’s still digging in my ass! I don’t know how women wear this crap. Then nylons and a skirt were next. Don’t ask what colors. I was still sorta zoned out. Then some 3 inch heels that were a little tight on her, but fit me just fine. And then a bunch of jewelry and perfume to finish me off. I felt finished alright!

She guided me out to her car. The rest was a blank. I think at some point we dropped our purchases off at home. The next thing I’m aware of is sitting in a restaurant with my new auntie and two men! They kept buying me drinks. Not just the men, auntie too! I fought a valiant battle to empty those glasses, but at last, I went down defeated. I don’t remember if I ever ate anything that night. The last thing I do remember is the restaurant and then waking up the next afternoon in bed naked with one of those men!
BARF TIME! Ewww!

I barely made it to the bathroom to pray before the porcelain god. And pray. And pray some more. I must have looked like a Muslim or Buddhist bowing and such. I almost banged my poor little head too.
Now for the embarrassing part, I won’t tell you what other mess I found! Sorry, you guessed.

My next thought was hoping I wasn’t pregnant. That’s all I need right now. I have to remember to ask Auntie about the morning after pill. Better safe than sorry.
Since I was in there and almost feeling human, I figured I may as well get cleaned up and start looking the part. Afterwards I snuck back into the bedroom and got a nightie and robe on. As I looked over to the bed I noticed big dark and hairy was still sawing logs. Add ugly and smelly to that too! I must have been blind and paralyzed drunk to end up in bed with that! I wonder if his name is Mongo or some real intelligent name. I know, Roto-Rooter! With that thought I made my way out to the kitchen for some coffee to get the taste of last night out of my mouth. I’m glad I don’t remember last night, and sure as hell don’t want to! Never again will alcohol touch these lips! I swear, never again! GAAAAHH! Shut up about famous last words and such drivel.

I decided to let everyone else sleep in. I still need to figure my life out. Make that my future life. I’d go wake up Auntie with a cup of coffee, but with her still bigger than me, no way! One ass-whooping was enough! I think I’m going to look into taking a self-defense class. Hmm what do they call it? Take a wacky or some such stuff. God, I got red hair less than a day and I think I’m turning blonde! Could it get any worse? Yes, I just realized it can. My other, ‘Auntie Flow’! After I managed to keep down my second cup of coffee and those gnomes stopped beating on the inside of my head, I tempted fate and try a piece of dry toast. Soon I heard signs of life as the slackers stumbled into the kitchen obviously hung over.

(“One of my teachers” will probably be continued if possible.)

Authors Notes: I have to lay blame where it should go for the trigger that caused this story, the author of Choices, Dorothy Colleen. One factor is true. I did have a red headed English teacher in the ninth grade, and I was in lust with or for her, being a horny teenager. And I did see her in the supermarket parking lot years later, but I wasn’t alone. I was accompanied by the one who became my wife. Ahh… she really was a looker. And single too!

So what do you think? Drop me a line, good, bad, or indifferent at:
[email protected]

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Comments

YES! I WANT MORE!

I liked this, and it needs more story. You left it at a very tempting point, and I want to to know where it goes from here. Please!

Wren

Light and funny

that's what was intended. No real graphic stuff. PG-13.
I stopped there to get it posted. Thought it was a good place to stop, before I tried
to put in puns Like writers Piers Anothoy and Robert Asprin.
Glad you like it.

taking the blame

"I have to lay blame where it should go for the trigger that caused this story, the author of Choices, Dorothy Colleen." I am totally blushing. I have never inspired anybody before, i am speechless! Good story too!

DogSig.png

taking the blame

"I have to lay blame where it should go for the trigger that caused this story, the author of Choices, Dorothy Colleen." I am totally blushing. I have never inspired anybody before, i am speechless! Good story too!

DogSig.png

You are most WELCOME!

What triggered the memory of my teacher was I think chapter one where the teacher in your
story does the striptease. Combine that and the horny memories of a teenager, or is that
the memories of a horny teenager?
Froedian slip if there ever was one. Too lazy to backspace.

One of My Teachers

very good story. please continue.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine