My material, completely original, you steal, I come to your house and bash your skull in with a lead pipe. 
Capish? Good. As a fore note, I'd like to state that this story was inspired by a picture by Gideon, who 
happens to be one of the best artists out there. Thank god or whatever deities there are for the internet.


					An Apple for the Teacher,
				   And A Whole Lot More in Return
					         by ASH

	School. The children forced to go there call it prison, while the adults who run the establishment 
refer to it as a center to promote the mental well being of all developing young minds. Yeah whatever.
	A bright and cheery day in spring. The semester is almost over and summer is near. It's a day that 
makes the kid in anyone want to run outside and just enjoy life. Unfortunatly today Alex had to view the 
wonderful blue sky and brilliant sun light from within the confines of a poorly air conditioned and crowded 
class room, with uncomfortable desks and chairs, most of which were ready to fall apart in the first place.
	Armed to face the rest of the day with only his notebook and pencil, he waited for 5th hour to start. 
With lunch over he began to feel sleepy and generally depressed. A 45-minute break from the grind was nice, even
if you did end up spending it eating the crappy food that the nearby fast food restraunts wouldn't feed to their
regular paying customers, or surfing the internet on the horribly outdated computers in the library, where 
everyone was on the same 56k modem, so that the connection ran like molasses in winter. Aside from  things like 
that, jeez school could be just dandy.
	5th hour was Alex's favorite, because it was his favorite subject, English, specifically, Literature & 
Creative Writing. He always had his notebook and pencil around so he could write whenever something particularly
creative popped into his head, and now he had a class where he could actually get credit for doing it.
	As a high school junior, he was still going through all of his prerequisites. He'd already gotten P.E. 
out of the way...yeah, P.E. as a requirement, like they'll check that on your resume or application to college 
("Let's see, first in your class with straight A's...but you never took Racquet Sports and can't do a pull up!? 
I'm sorry sir we have no place for you here."). He personally hated science and math, sure they were interesting
at times, but they were so, set in stone. There was no life to them, they were bland, black and white 
mathematics and facts. History, while not to different from math & science, held a certain appeal because you 
obviously can't write too much good material if you don't know about any history or past events to base it off 
of.
	But now he was in a class where he felt he could let his mind go in a creative river that could run like
the Mississippi on a good day. However the class didn't feel complete until the teacher arrived.
	There was no mistaking her entrance.
	"Ms. Johnson..." He sighed to himself.
	She was very tall for a lady her age, a good head taller than some of the football players, with long 
brown hair that fell down past her shoulders, and glasses which perfectly framed her beautiful face and deep 
forest green eyes. Despite her size she always had a graceful stride and an aura of pleasentness that always 
seemed to draw quite abit of attention.
	She was dressed in the usual today, thin-fabric beige button down long sleeved shirt, and an ankle 
length blue skirt. He had no idea why fortune had smiled on him and the system had put him with this specific 
teacher.
	Ms. Johnson, was not only tall by the way, but also, well, well endowed. Her bosom could almost be 
described as near collosal. They didn't even make bras to fit things like that, so everyone could often see the 
outlines of her nipples and areolas through the material of what she wore on top. She also looked very strong, 
like she could very well wrestle any one of the boys in the room. There was also one thing, some thing only Alex 
knew of.
	He had only felt it by accident one time. Getting from place to place during passing time was insane, 
the hallways were packed like Communist China during rush hour, with idiots standing in the middle of the 
hallways, and others walking too slow, while some of them blatantly walk on the wrong side of the hall way 
making things ever more complicated. Well, one day he was on his way to Ms. Johnsons classroom, and he happened 
to bump in to her, quite by accident, it was more like he was shoved toward her by an over agressive teen who 
probably hadn't gotten his nicotene fix that day. Well when he bumped into her, his hand accidently brushed 
against something that didn't quite feel like her leg. It felt thicker, warmer, and seemed to pulse for a bit 
before he was giving Ms. Johnson her space, apologizing for bumping in to her, then dashing off to class trying 
to figure out just what he'd stumbled upon there.
	Ever since then he couldn't help but remember what he'd felt, especially when Ms. Johnson would somehow 
sneak up on him and check what he was working on. His heart would pound so loud he could swear everyone else 
was hearing it. She would sometimes even lean forward just a bit, and one wrong move would result in taboo 
physical contact. It was very stressful and at the same time naturally arousing. A beautiful woman so close that
you can feel her breath on your neck and the heat from her body, you'd have to be dead or gay not to start 
sporting some wood.
	He sighed again, hoping that he didn't have to go through any of that today. It was hot, he was tired, 
stress wasn't something he wanted to deal with.
	The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch and the beginning of fifth period, the last of the students 
entered and took their seats.
	Ms. Johnson then got up from her desk and sauntered to the front of the class and began her usual 
lecture. This week they'd be looking into romantic fiction. He personally detested the way romantic fiction was 
written. It was always either boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back, blah blah melodrama crap crap, 
or it was tragic stuff that could just depress you beyond all norms. Still, he had to go through with it. They 
were to read several chapters of books from a list she designated, write a response, and then write their own 
romantic short story.
	He decided he'd read the book and write the response later. His wrist was getting that 'itch' and he had 
to begin writing. Problem was, while he wanted to write, he had no idea what to write while staying within the 
assigned subject. This was another reason he hated romance, he had no experience with it so he didn't have the 
slightest clue how to write about it. Sure he had written his fair share of 'adult' material, but that was just 
for the heck of it. He was curious about his capabilities and where his talents were. But romance was just 
beyond him.
	He sat there chewing on his pencil and looking down at his notepad wracking his brains trying to come up 
with something. He was ready to tear his hair out until he noticed a shadow looming over him.
	"Having some trouble Alex?" Her voice was soft and kind. He could tell that she was very close, and did 
his very best not to bump her by moving back in ayway.
	"N-no Ms. Johnson I'm fine, I'm just waiting for an idea..." He said apprehensively.
	"Really?" She said as she leaned closer to look at the blank page in his notebook. "Maybe if you read 
one of the books I suggested it would help." She was almost intimately close now, he could notice some of the 
other students staring, a few of them snickering at the uncomfortable situation he was in.
	"No offense m'am..." He replied, "But I'm putting that off as long as I can, most of what you suggested 
looked like drivel or Shakespere."
	"Hmmm? You have something against Shakespere."
	He nodded. "When suggested as reading material yes. Shakespere isn't meant to be read. Some stories can 
convey their emotions through simple text, but the language of Shakespere is so complex that it has to be 
recited, performed even, in that passionate display where the actor bears his soul for the audience. You can not 
read Shakespere, you must do it."
	Ms. Johnson stood up and crossed her arms infront of her chest (not an easy task by the looks of it) and 
nodded. "You make an excellent point. Hold on, I think I have something better for you to read." She walked over
to her desk and produced a red leather bound book. She then took out a sticky note and wrote something on it. 
She placed it between two pages, obviously advice on what parts to read. Then she walked back over and placed it 
infront of him.
	"I'll be eager to hear your opinion on it." She winked at him and walked back to her desk.
	Once again he could hear the snickers of the kids. Well it was a rather large looking book, but it was 
hard back so of course it would seem big. They probably were thinking he had been stuck with an extra work load 
or something.
	His insatiable curiosity kicked in and he immediatly opened it up to the book marked page. To his great 
surprise, the pages were blank. He flipped through to be met with nothing but blank pages. He then flipped back 
to the marked page and took a look at the sticky note.
	'See me after school' it read.
	His face instantly went incredibly red. He wasn't sure if he was in any sort of trouble or if this was 
something else. He shook his head, he had to be in trouble, after all, who ever heard of a female teacher 
hitting on a male student (don't laugh), especially a social outcast like himself.
	He spent the rest of the class period thinking about what the note said and what he would do after 
school. He could just very well not see her, but what would happen then. He was starting to think that maybe he 
couldn't afford not to see her. He trudged out of the class room holding the note, unable to get his mind off 
the four words that might as well have been set in stone.
	'See me after school.'
	His last class for the day was math, which he tended to sleep through. Despite his immense laziness he 
was still passing the class with a C and wasn't very concerned with it at the moment. He continued to look 
through the book, trying to find some meaning in the blank pages. Unfortunatly half an hour of flipping through 
the book gave him nothing new.
	The final bell rang and Alex stood up, his nose into the book, trying to perhaps pick out some kind of 
incredibly small text. It was completely beyond his comprehension that he was simply given a blank book. To him, 
it had to mean something. He was running on autopilot at the moment, headed straight for Ms. Johnson's 
classroom, not even aware that he was doing so as he tried to hold the pages up to the light, looking for a 
water stain like you see on the latest dollar bills.
	By the time he was in Ms. Johnsons room, not even aware that he was, he was sprinkling sand on the pages 
and blowing it off to look for traces of some sort of adhesive, and looking like a total ass in the process.
	Ms. Johnson's voice killed his never ending curiosity, "I'm glad to see you've taken such an interest in 
the book, but it's just a bunch of blank pages."
	He looked up to see her sitting at her desk. He looked around and realized that he had indeed come to 
her room. He closed the book and tried to pretend he hadn't been doing anything.
	"Uh yeah well I just uh..." He felt really damn stupid at the moment.
	She let out a light chuckle, "Don't worry. I was just curious how you would respond to a blank book. I 
guess you really do have I thing for the written word, yes?"
	He nodded, "Yeah I guess. I hate to be rude Ms. Johnson but I'm going to miss my bus, why did you want 
to see me?"
	"I was curious if you'd like to schedule private tutoring sessions." She spoke with the utmost of 
seriousness.
	He quirked his eyebrow, "Pardon? My grade isn't bad in this class, I had an A the last time I checked."
	"I'm not concerned about your grades Alex." She adjusted her glasses, "I'm concerning myself with 
forwarding your developement outside of the system. You just wrote a play, I can tell your passionate about 
writing and acting, and yet I get the feeling you feel...disenchanted with the school system?"
	He tried to speak in his least sarcastic voice, "Jeez, you think?"
	"Well, I'm sure that I could give you the one-on-one attention that someone with your talent deserves. 
I've already informed your parents about this, and they are very interested. All I need is your go ahead. Before 
you ask, you and I will be spending a lot of time together. I'll be asking you to recite quite abit of 
play-write material, as well as reading excerpts from several different books and making analyses. Along with 
this I'll be expecting something along the lines of a micronovel by the end of the semester, maybe a whole one 
by the end of your senior year." She looked directly at him and awaited his answer.
	It was a tough call honestly. He enjoyed just giving about seventy-five percent of his effort. Not going 
all the way meant he always had an ace up his sleeve to dazzle with when necessary. Yet as he looked into her 
eyes, he started to pick up something. He couldn't quite tell what it was. A mutual attraction. No, he knew it 
wasn't that, something else perhaps.
	"Hell, why not."
	She smiled warlmly, "I had a feeling you would say that." She sat up and slung her purse over her 
shoulder. "We'd better hurry, or we'll miss the first act."
	"Pardon?" Things were happening so fast he honestly had no clue what was going on.
	"We're studying romance, so for our first session you and I are going to see Romeo & Juliet. I bought 
the tickets ahead of time." She walked out and he quickly followed after.
	"What would you have done if I had said no to all of this, just out of curiosity." He asked.
	"Oh, I wasn't really prepared for that, but I knew you wouldn't say no anyway." She answered.
	"Really..." He replied.
	By this time they were already out in the parking lot, infront of her car. It was a rather nice ride 
for a public high school teacher, a BWM 328ci with a jet black paint job and clear coat. She opened the door for 
him first and he stepped in. It was a very nice ride from the inside. Leather seats, warmers for afforementioned 
seats, a nice looking stereo system with MP3 Hard Drive.
	Though it was against his better judgement, he had to say it, "Are you a drug dealer? Because no teacher 
in the public education  system should have a car like this."
	"I'm actually a novelist part time. I save all the money I make from that and use all of my teacher 
salary for the necessities. But my latest best seller bought me this baby." She petted and caressed the wood 
finished dashboard the way a man would with his woman.
	Though they both remained silent as the car pulled out of the school parking lot, she broke the 
awkwardness about half way to the performing arts center.
	"Do you have a girlfriend, Alex?"
	His face went red and he chose to remain silent.
	"I guess that's a no."
	"That obvious?" He remarked sarcastically.
	"Not so much in the way you are, but the way you write. I can tell you obviously feel lonely, and quite 
angry at times. It's almost depressing to read the work of someone with such a strong sense of cyncism in them. 
You're probably one of those kids who was stuffed full of ritalin and anti-depressants when you were younger, 
yes?"
	He shrugged, "My parents said it helped balance me, I try not to remember stuff like that, my childhood 
was far from bright and cheery outside of my own home."
	"Do you wish you had a girlfriend, Alex?"
	He sniffed, "I could care less, I don't need any emotional involvement, I just need to take care of all 
these pent up hormones that are racing through my blood telling me to fuck like an animal, pardon my french, 
it's all rather frustrating and confusing."
	She giggled, causing him to frown indignantly, "You're really a horrible liar Alex. I think you know 
very well that sex is just a small part of it. Well, I'm not sure if Romeo & Juliet is the best way to help you
understand the concept of romance, but it's a good start."
	The rest of the drive was accompanied by silence. As a matter of fact barely a word passed between them 
even as they took their seats for the performance. It wasn't a big crowd, probably because it was a week night 
and the show had been playing for quite some time. Him and Ms. Johnson had the whole row to themselves. Despite 
the amount of free space, they both sat together. As the lights dimmed Alex started to get that odd feeling 
again. No not THAT feeling you sick bastards, more like the sort of premonition you get before a life changing 
even happens, or before you pass gas.
	It was an impressive play, the actors weren't half as lame as the ones you tend to see in a hollywood 
piece of crap. But it was rather slow to him, up until Mercutio made his speech before the party. All of the 
cyncism and anger Romoe's friend displayed was something he could easily relate to.
	He had read the stage play before, but he had never seen it acted out. He was very sad knowing that 
Mercutio would die, he was his favorite character.
	It was around the time that Romoe & Juliet first saw each other that he felt Miss Johnson put her arm 
around him. It was not only awkward, but she pulled him closer to her until his face was nearly pressing against 
the side of one of her gorgeously gargantuan breasts. He could notice them rise and fall with each breath she 
took. Quite frankly, all of his attention had been taken away from the performance, now fixed on the tempting 
situation before him. He could see her nipples stick out like goddamn billboards in the desert, and he had to 
exercise every bit of will not to start groping and fondling like the hormone crazed teenager that he was. His 
heart was ready to pound straight out of his chest making noise like a drum machine with the base on full blast, 
while his brain and his balls fenced for control of his feeble body.
	"Does it make sense, Alex?" She asked him.
	He replied with a, "Huh?", trying to make eye contact so that he wasn't staring at her chest as she 
talked.
	Her voice had an almost dream tone as she spoke "Does it make sense? These two have never met before and 
yet the instant their eyes meet something just clicks, they know they're ment for each other, even though nobody 
else can understand it. To everyone else it doesn't make sense, but they know better. That's what romance and 
love is, knowing that it's right." 
	"I think I get it, sounds kinda melodramatic, but I can understand it." He started to relax. The more he 
thought about it, the more he enjoyed being this way with Ms. Johnson.  Her arm was strong. but he felt no force 
in her hold. He probably could have slipped out if he wanted, but he felt safe, passive. It was odd in his 
logical mind, but as she had put it, it felt, 'right'. He felt his heart beat slow down, and soon it was back 
now normal, but now he noticed he could hear hers, it was practically in synch with his. Something about that 
was incredibly calming and wonderful.  He was honestly surprised at himself when he rested his head against the 
soft flesh of her massive mammary. It yieled and supported him so well he almost felt like he was resting on a 
cloud.
	"I believe you do understand." She said softly.  Then she took his hand and placed it against a bulge in 
her skirt. He swallowed loudly and felt as his blood rush to his face. "Didn't forget about this now, did you?"  
She spoke with a sultry tone.
	He shook his head, "N-no m'am." He could feel his body tense up, except for his hand, god what would she
think if he started to grasp it. He didn't need that.
	She whispered softly in his ear,  "I remember when you bumped into me in the hallway and touched it. You 
know why I was late that day? Just touching me made me so horny I had to get to the bathroom and cum or I'd have 
walked into the classroom with a huge hard-on. But let's just keep it our secret, okay?"
	He nodded.
	"Good boy.  You don't have to take your hand off,  I don't mind, let's just enjoy the rest of the show." 
With that she turned her head and pretended that his hand wasn't currently on the pulsing bulge beneath her 
skirt.  But it was, he could feel the warmth and movement as it obviously swelled, and he was honestly paralyzed 
trying to think of what to do.
	She made a deep sound of approval, "Mmm that's nice, you wouldn't mind squeezing it a bit, would you?"
	Without thinking, he complied, he could hear her moan softly and feel the bulge swell even more, with 
every last muscle and vein prominent in his mind through the material of her skirt.  He could feel himself 
getting quite, shall we say, bothered?
	He should have seen the look on his face when she returned the favor by placing her hand between his 
legs and rubbing softly at his groin, eliciting a stiffled moan.
	"Hmm, I can see the feeling is mutual. You're really getting turned on by this.  Never been touched by a 
girl before Alex?" Her voice was sultry and seductive.
	He nodded. He always believed that he was far from attractive. A skinny 130lbs, 6ft tall, gangly (his 
parents just said he was slender), somewhat pale, with glasses, he felt that no one could possibly find him in 
anyway good looking, especially considering he had never had a girlfriend, much less been touched in this 
manner.
	Urged by her sensual petting, he began to rub along the covered length of her massive bulge aswell, and 
he could notice her arousal even more, her cheeks were red, and her nipples protruded almost ridiculously 
against her top, he could even notice a damp spot on her skirt.
	In reaction she leaned her head over and began to kiss the side of his face whispering, "I really am  
*smooch* enjoying this, but I think we should  *moan* move it to a more appropriate, ooh..locale." With that 
she took her hands off his most sensitive parts and took his hand, leading him out of the theater and back to 
her car.  With a speed that he couldn't believe she drove back to what must have been her home.
	It was very awkward, he couldn't even explain to himself why he was letting this happen. But he felt 
almost happy. It might have just been hormones coupled with some odd deviant tastes, or it could have really 
been 'right', if you had asked him he couldn't have told you. He just was happy, with the idea that this woman 
actually seemed to want him, and he wanted her.  It was a new experience and it practically intoxicated his 
mind.
	When they skidded to a halt infront of her simple duplex he was relatively back to normal, and quite 
aware of what was going on. She stepped out and then walked around to the other side of the car where she opened 
the door for him, and even offered her hand to help him out, which he accepted.
	"Ms. Johnson...I think I know what's happening here...but it's not..." What? Legal? He didn't have any 
problem with what was going on here so why should there be a real debate about legality? He was 17, he could 
make decisions as well for himself as someone who was 18, does nine lousy months really make a difference?
	"Not what? Go on?" She said curiously.
	He shook his head, "Nevermind." With that he followed her, led by the hand, into her home.
	It was a quaint place for a single person to live, upon entering he could hear the sounds of two cats 
meowing, calling out to their human for food. He saw them come out of the shadows, as Ms. Johnson hadn't turned 
the lights on yet, but he could see there eyes glowing green and gold as they stalked in the darkness. He always 
had a thing for cats, so beautiful and elegant, and of course, quieter than dogs, less messy, and not in anyway 
as pathetic as a dog that couldn't be without it's MASTER for more than five seconds.
	"Welcome to my little crash pad." She said as she flicked the lights on. The pair of cats were now 
completely visible as their big dark eyes narrowed to adjust to the sudden change in light. Both average, one 
orange tabby and one calico, but he still couldn't resist the urge to try and pet one.  The calico was quick to 
scamper off but the tabby leaned toward his hand and sniffed for a bit before it decided he was okay and started 
to rub it's face against his palm and the sides of his fingers.
	"So you're a cat person too? Seems like Rachel likes you. Of course she's alittle more of a people cat 
than Mimi. Why don't you get comfortable while I go upstairs?" She winked and walked up the stairs and 
disappeared from view.
	His curiosity to follow her was surpressed and he decided to take her advice. Walking further into the 
house past the staircase that led upwards, was a humble little lounge room. Couch, Laz-E-Boy, coffee table, lamp 
desk, and a decent TV. He put his backpack on the ground and found a place to hang his coat up, and layed 
himself back on the couch.
	It finally occured to him again what was happening, and he was very curious at his own behavior. From 
what he guessed, this wasn't going to be the usual 'man-on-top get-it-over-with-quick' deal. Yet he still had 
come along with her, why? She probably had a cock twice as big as his arm from what he saw under her skirt.
	"Either I'm going crazy or the shock from what I experienced has still numbed my brain..hm I wonder 
which it is." He wasn't able to explain it. The more he thought about it, her wonderful hips, her beautifully 
buxom chest, and her strong facial features, something about imaging her naked with a massive member didn't seem 
to disturb him in the least bit.
	"What did DiNero say?" He mumured. "'I go fag and you die.'" He snickered at himself. "I really must be 
imagining all this anyway, no girl, much less a grown woman would be interested in me."
	Suddenly he felt something land on his chest and looked. It was the orange tabby, apparently getting 
comfortable on his chest. At first he motioned to shoo it away, but decided against it. He waited about five 
minutes before he started to get anxious.
	"As long as this is a dream why can't my dream hurry the hell up?" He said as he stroked the fur on the 
purring tabby. It was about then that he heard a door open upstairs, and the floor creaking under the stress of 
someones weight and movement. The tabby was quick to leap and beat feet somewhere alittle quieter. It wasn't 
until she was at the bottom of the steps that he could see her clearly.
	(I would like to say now that I am very sorry for the large amount of plot and developement that has 
taken place up until this sex scene. Please forgive me...NOW ON WITH THE SMUT!)
	It was almost exactly as he imagined. Everthing she wore in polite society did very little to hide most 
of her naked features. She still had her tinted glasses on, and a smile that spoke volumes of lust and want.
Over her bosom she wore a black bra made of sheer material that made it possible to see the dark skin of her 
erect nipples, like hersey's kisses on the surface of an giant smooth melon. Suffice to say his jeans were 
starting to feel very crowded at that time, but he didn't know the half of it until he looked lower. It was just 
about as big as he had thought. Cripes he wasn't even sure if she was aroused yet. It hung down past her knees, 
which signaled that either it was to heavy to be supported by the muscles in it, or things were gonna get hairy 
the second she really got going, and he didn't even want to think about how much cum she could put out by the 
size of her balls. The dimensions and sheer mechanics of such an appendage were mind-boggling 
(thank you Austin). What's more he suddenly realized that he might just have to deal with that in ways he didn't 
even want to consider.
	She giggled and reached down to rub it abit, "Hehe, you like it hmm?"
	His face went flush and he looked down and started to fiddle with his thumbs. "Uh well uhm..." He was 
really starting to feel the pressure in his pants to, like the denim would squeeze his balls till they popped if 
he didn't get relief soon.
	When she walked up and sat next to him on the couch he felt his heart beat jump to what would be 
considered far beyond a healthy pace. It climbed as she put one hand on his head and another on his groin. At 
the rate things were going, this was either some kind of fume hallucination or he wasn't dreaming. When she 
squeezed tenderly on his hard-on through his pants it was confirmed that he wasn't dreaming. By now he'd have 
woken up with stained boxers if he was.
	When she pulled his head onto her naked breast that was it, every single bit of restraint cracked under 
the sexual auto-pilot. Simply one of those fleshy orbs was a daunting task to undertake but his teenage sex 
drive was quite ready to give it a go. His right hand immediately reached around and felt for her swollen nipple 
under the silky bra, and he began to squeeze it, having to use his entire hand on the huge thing, while his 
other hand went lower, softly rubbing along her pulsing length. Guessing by the moan he heard, he was doing a 
good job so far, but he was afraid that he could only do so much with his size.
	In response Ms. Johnson unzipped his fly and got a closer feel at his own throbbing erection through his 
white boxer shorts (what kind of freak wears briefs anymore? It's like a vice). Her touch was soft and warm. 
Then he felt her tug his jeans and boxers down so that his member was fully exposed, jutting out like the tower 
of Piza, without the lean. Her fingers wrapped around it delicately and she began stroking. He could only return 
the favor by rubbing her length more, trying to stimulate her as much as she was stimulating him. Then he got an 
idea. Craning his head a bit, he was face level with her gorgeously protruding nipple. He opened his mouth and 
began to lick at it, dragging his tongue across the surface of it through the shear material, and once he saw 
that she more than enjoyed it, he did his best to force the rock hard nub of flesh into his mouth and suck on it 
with the best of ability.
	This went on for about five minutes before his mental struggle buckled under the building pressure in 
his loins. He let out a moan and felt his mind fill with a blinding light of bliss. When he recovered and opened 
his eyes he looked up and saw Ms. Johnson licking his cum off her hand in an almost feline fashion.
	"Mmm, tasty." She said in her low sultry voice. "Now I think it's time for the real fun to begin."
	He couldn't help but flinch noticeably.  When she giggled it didn't help anything.
	"Ah I think you knew this was coming and I know you want it." She reached behind and gently caressed his
rear. "I promise I'll be gentle."
	_Gentle?_  He thought.  _With that huge thing?_ Yet he sighed and nodded, turning around and placing 
himself on his hands and knees, grasping the end of the couch. He was going to have Monty Python beat for silly 
walks after this was done.
	First she pulled his pants completely off - being that they were currently just pulled down to his hips 
- and tossed them away. He was glad her apartment was warm, as he didn't feel any uncomfortable 'draftiness' as 
entire lower anatomy was exposed.
	He wasn't even sure how she was going to manage to squeeze her tip inside until he felt her fingers 
spreading cool slick lubricant along his posterior. He couldn't help but moan at how it felt. He knew that the 
pleasantness of the moment would change anytime now though. He heard her moan aswell and looked back to see her 
spreading the ever well known K-Y petroleum gel along her length, making it glisten wetly.
	She then moved up to mount him, he felt her bulbous tip pressing against his backdoor and he shuddered. 
She spoke softly. "The lube will make it easier, but it won't take away all the pain.  Just try and relax and 
maybe push back okay?"
	He nodded and braced himself.
	She pushed in. How to describe the sensation? It was indescribeable to him. He felt like he could split 
in two any second but he didn't care. She was so warm and hard and huge. He slowly pushed back, trying to make 
it easier as he accomodated for her girth. In the meantime she was moaning and wraping her arms about his waist. 
He was honestly surprised when she actually lifted him up, and let gravity drag him down over her massiveness 
until he was sitting in her lap stuffed like a thanksgiving turkey.
	She hugged him tight against her chest, practically enveloping him in her bosom while she began to pump 
in and out of him with the strength of a steam driven jackhammer.
	He yelled out in a mixture of pleasure and pain the likes of which he had never encountered, "Oh god 
Miss J..aagh!" He wasn't sure if he wanted to cry in pain or beg for more.
	In return she rubbed her hands all over his body and tried to soothe the pain and focus on the pleasure, 
but it would be quite awhile before the splitting agony subsided for him.
	Still his cheeks were flushed red and his own member erect as a flag pole. His painful groanings began 
to switch for pleasant moanings as she filled every cubic centimeter of his insides. What's more he felt as if 
suspended on air and wrapped in soft warmth buried in her soft and massive breasts. To him the pain became 
mearly a rite of passage and soon pushed into the back of his brain as the pleasure became more and more 
prominent.
	It was indeed as if the two bodies became one, it was almost hard to make out where one began and the 
other would end as they thrashed about in throes of quite wanton sexual passion. To put it more crudely, they 
were at it like animals.
	Posistions switched several times and things got very very sticky (quite literally). There was even a 
point where he eagerly tried to take her into his mouth, but that proved to be rather futile, however he did 
find the proverbial tip of the iceberg to be very tasty.
	By the end of the evening they were basking in an afterglow that could be described in lofty terms 
often found in ancient poetry, a near Xanadu as one might say.
	As he layed against her body, hearing her heartbeat and steady breath, she spoke to him.
	"I'd say this is a very good start."

	Six months later,  Alex took the test and earned his GED, after having made a successful series of 
movie to stageplay conversions and original productions that had earned him and the school quite a large amount 
of money and prestige. After this he saw very little need to remain in school and instead opted to get out, and 
indeed move out of home to live on his own and write his first novel, and his first screenplay.
	It was interesting to note that a certain Ms. Johnson retired from her job as teacher for quote 
'personal reasons'. Suffice to say that both Alex and Ms. Johnson pooled their talents to create many works 
that were, to put it in a proper tone, labors of love, and of course there were many other late night 'labors' 
that the two made aswell.