Old High School Teacher  PG 




How could this be happening?

I pushed, bucked, squirmed, strained...I planted my feet on the floor and
used all the strength in my legs, bridging my legs and back upward...but no
matter what I tried, how much energy I used, I couldn't unseat her.

Yes, her. Her. Mrs. Lewis. My 9th grade English teacher.

Not that I was in 9th grade any more. No, now I was a grown man.

Twenty-three years old! And not a little wimp...I'm 5'10", 170 pounds, and I'm
athletic to boot. But somehow this fifty-year old woman was sitting astride my
chest, her shins pressing into my biceps, and holding me helpless.

Perhaps I shouldn't have been such a jerk in high school. But come on, I
was a high school boy! Of course I was a jerk! It didn't occur to me that
eight years later I would meet Mrs. Lewis again in the gym. She looked so funny,
wearing a pink sports bra and tight pink spandex workout pants, that I
couldn't resist teasing once, just for old times. I was amused by her middle-aged (and
ample) breasts bouncing up and down in her thin pink bra, amused by her big
rear end jiggling inside her spandex.

She was not amused by my jeers. But she got a sly smile as she pulled her
blonde hair back into a pony-tale, showing her flabby triceps.

"Matt, there are a few moves maybe you can show me over in the yoga room.

Nobody else is in there. I need some help with my workout."

Why wouldn't I go to help her? But as soon as I entered the room she closed
the door behind me.

As I looked at her I noticed a wily smile on her face.

In a swift motion she grabbed my shoulders and slammed her knee hard into my
groin, nearly lifting me off the floor.

An explosion of visceral pain rushed from my balls through my body and I
opened my mouth in a silent scream.

"I've wanted to do that for years," she giggled as I sank to the ground in
agony.

Mrs. Lewis pulled me upward by my hair, until I was nearly upright, though
gasping for breath. She couldn't have been more than 5'3", so I towered over
her. Then she swung a punch to my stomach, slamming her small, hard fist into
my solar plexus.

The punch knocked my wind out and made me gasp for air.

"And I've definitely wanted to to that," she said as I doubled over once more.

Falling to my knees I held my belly as I wheezed for air.

Mrs. Lewis grabbed my right wrist and twisted it hard into a hammerlock,
then forced me to my stomach while painfully forcing my arm high between my
shoulder blades. Mrs. Lewis straddled my back and sank her full weight onto my
lower back.

"AAAAAHHH, MY ARM, AAAHHH!"

I squealed in pain until she covered my mouth with her left hand.

"Don't make a scene, Matt. I told you a thousand times in the 9th grade to
stop talking. Today, I'm going to shut you up once and for all."

"MPPPPHHHH! HLLLMMMPPHHH!" I moaned but my screams were smothered in the palm
of her hand.

I kicked my legs in vain as she tortured my arm and pulled my head back
painfully. Finally she released my wrist and stood up.

I began to rise to my feet, hoping to escape, when Mrs. Lewis easily tripped
me backwards.

I fell on my back and saw Mrs. Lewis look down at me with a wicked smile.

Standing astride my torso, she winked and then let her full weight drop on my
stomach. "Ooooffff!" I gasped as her ass knocked all the air out of me.

I was in no position to resist as Mrs. Lewis slid forward onto my chest,
her fat bottom on my chest, and pinned my arms down with her shins. I tried to
push her off but she grasped my wrists and forced them slowly to the floor. I
saw the look of victory, of vindication, of vengeance in her eyes as she
watched me squirm helplessly beneath her.

All I could do now was stare at her dangling cleavage, her lipsticked grin,
and regret that I had been such a jerk in her class in high school.