After my fifth year of teaching high school, I had achieved tenure and could focus on getting my master’s degree and start making significantly more money. I was admitted into the state’s flagship university and decided to start summer school immediately after the school year was over.
I decided to take a full load of courses, so I did not want to be distracted by cooking or other tasks. I found a cheap room in a house near campus. It wasn’t great. Just a simple room with a bed, desk, and chest of drawers. Everyone shared the common bathrooms down the hall. The only good thing was the in-ground pool in the back yard.
I moved in over the weekend and quickly toured the campus to find my classrooms, cafeterias, and coffee shops along the way. It was going to be an intense summer, but I was ready for the challenge.
Upon returning from my tour, I noticed a familiar, smiling face sitting on the bench by the front door. It was Cary, who was my senior Social Studies student just last school year.
“Cary, what are you doing here?” I asked.
“Hey Mr. Forte!” she screamed as she ran up to me and gave me a hug. “I’m going to school here and am starting summer school. I live here! What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Well I’m doing the same!” I said. “I’m here for the eight week summer session.”
“Oh my God! That is so wonderful, Mr. Forte!” She almost was crying.
Cary was always a very expressive student who always spoke her mind. My colleagues and I joked that she had no social filter. If it entered her mind it immediately exited her mouth.
I told her I had a pre-assignment to do, so I had to get going. My plan was to be very serious this summer and get all A’s. I scheduled my classes so that I could get an early class in at 8:00 a.m., and then back to the house to go for a midmorning run through campus before my 1:00 p.m. class.
The first class was great. It was so inspiring. I loved it! Class was over, and I headed back to the house to change and go for my run. As soon as I could see the house, I could make out Cary’s figure back on the bench drinking coffee.
“Hi, Mr. Forte! How was class?” she asked.
“It was great. I am so energized. It is going to be a great summer!” I said.
Cary and I kept chatting about her classes, the weather, other small talk, and then finally I said that I needed to go for my run. Cary never missed a beat. She jumped up, followed me to my room and plopped herself on my bed. All the while she continued the conversation barely taking a breath.
Finally I said, “I really have to change now to go for my run.”
“Right, go on get changed. What are you waiting for?” she asked.
I laughed and said, “Well I’m waiting for you to leave so I can change.”
“Don’t be silly Mr. Forte. We aren’t in high school any more. Besides, it’s not like I’ve never seen a naked guy before,” she said sarcastically.
Cary made it very clear with that comment that she was expecting to see the man who was her teacher two weeks before now completely naked. I am not a prude, and am actually somewhat of an exhibitionist. Any chance I have to get nude I jump on it. And whenever I get naked in front of someone, I usually end up sporting a seven-inch hard on.
So, with Cary’s permission, or rather her invitation, I pulled my t-shirt up over my head and threw it on the bed. I untied each shoe and set them aside and threw the socks over them.
Cary just kept talking, but her pace seemed to increase a bit with anticipation.
I made sure that I stood directly in front of her, and then pulled my shorts down leaving me only in my briefs. Cary talked faster, never stopping, and alternating eye contact with staring at my briefs.
To heighten the anticipation, I stopped stripping and just kept the conversation going like it was the most natural thing in the world. A twenty-eight year old male teacher standing in his underwear talking to his female student. It was as if we were back in class and I was engaging a student in a lively conversation, except that I was in my very brief underwear.
I don’t know if I couldn’t take the suspense any more or if she was more excited, but I finally reached for my waistband. And I kept my hands there. For one full minute while I kept talking. Heightening the anticipation for both Cary and me.
Without further warning, I bent over, pulled my briefs down and off my ankles, stood up, and tossed the briefs in Cary’s face.
“What are you doing?” she laughed. “Are these mine to keep? Haha!”
“No you give those back to me,” I laughed. “No souvenirs.”
She kept holding them out from me as I was grabbing unsuccessfully for them with my growing cock swinging wildly from side to side.
