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“Well, Jim, that’s about to change.” I could feel her hand searching for my fly. The zipper made a soft ripping sound as she slowly opened my pants and reached inside for my stiff dick. “I am going to take care of this problem for you. You can’t recite Shakespeare with a boner like this.” She kept her gaze fixed on me as she slowly dropped to her knees while gently rubbing my cock. Once she got face-to-face with my member, she swirled the head with her tongue.

“Let me rest a minute. Put some more oil on that thing.” I poured the olive oil in the crack of her ass and watched it run down to where my dick was penetrating Carol’s asshole. I massaged it around my shaft. For the next ten years, I got a huge boner every time I cooked with olive oil. I started sliding back and forth and inch or so, working some of the oil into her anal canal. My cock began to slide easier.

This was many years ago, back when teachers could lay an encouraging hand on a student’s shoulder without being labeled a sex offender. Teachers could sit close by a student to help them with a hard concept, and no one thought anything of it. The boys flirted back with Mrs. B. and the girls got valuable lessons in how to attract boys’ attention and drive them crazy. It was fun. And, Mrs. B was married with a couple of young kids, not that it mattered. It was all just innocent fun.