My Mom is a Biology Teacher. Part 1

My Mom is a Biology Teacher. Part 1

It’s always not easy when your mom works at the same school where you study. Especially when your mom is an attractive woman of thirty-five, with size-three breasts, a perfect hourglass figure, moderately wide hips, firm buttocks, and who also likes to dress in rather short skirts and always unbuttons a few buttons of her blouses. And if anyone thinks I’m exaggerating, believe me, not at all. From the outside it may seem that there’s nothing to it, but in reality…

Although, as I remember, it wasn’t always like that. Roughly until the seventh or eighth grades, I didn’t react at all to the fact that my mom taught us lessons and worked at my school. I even liked it. It was always nice to come to her class, even though she tried with all her appearance not to show at work that I was her son. But one day everything changed.

I don’t know exactly when it all happened, but I remember because of what it happened. It was an ordinary school day. I was going up one of the school staircases when I saw my mom upstairs. Speeding up, I was about to catch up with her, but… I ran into two high school seniors who were standing in the stairwell and, like me, looking somewhere up. That they were also looking at my mom, I initially didn’t even think.

— Now we’ll see, — said one of them.

— Have you already peeked? What does she have on today?

— White, I think. Or light-colored. Through the tights it’s not very clear what color exactly.

— Too bad she doesn’t wear stockings. That would solve all the problems. And they would suit her very well. Tights aren’t for her. Although everything looks sexy on her.

— Look!

I stopped and looked where one of the guys was pointing. Only now did I fully realize what was happening. These two… freaks were peeping at my mom. They were trying to look under her skirt when she was going up the stairs, looking at her from the lower floor.

— Oooh! Nice!

I got angry. I wanted to rush at them to fight, but realized in time that I couldn’t resolve the issue with my fists. They were older and bigger than me. Even if I could knock out one, the second would definitely beat me up. And fighting at school… not a good activity. Then I’d also get a reprimand from the principal.

In general, I kept silent, but from that day something clicked inside me, and I started to pay more attention to what was happening at school with my mom. And when I started doing that, I realized that almost everyone was staring at my mom, and that those two were not the worst thing that was happening to her.

It should be said here that there was no father in our family. More precisely, he was, but he spent almost all his time at work on business trips and long-haul flights, so one could say that we lived with mom alone. So, one could say that the main man in the family was me. And therefore I felt that I should bear responsibility for mom, and should protect her from all sorts of… perverts who stalk her.

So a year passed. A year during which I diligently performed my role as protector, protecting my mom’s honor at work. I was pleased to do this; I felt the importance of what I was doing. Mom was very dear to me, and, as I understood later, I felt much more for her than just a son’s love for his mother. Precisely because of my not entirely correct feelings, most likely, I didn’t want anyone else to look at her except me. At least until the middle of the tenth grade, when everything changed.

Perhaps the reason for all the changes were the porn videos that I watched in huge quantities. Perhaps something else. But one way or another, with age I got addicted to the genre of Cuckolding (or Netorare/NTR, if we take the Japanese version). I don’t know how it happened, but I noticed that it is precisely the porn of this section that arouses and turns me on the strongest. Those dual emotions that betrayal causes. The struggle of love and lust… All this so captivated me that I more and more immersed myself in all this, I’m not afraid of this word, shit. And I understood that this is somehow wrong, that I should jerk off to something else, but I couldn’t do anything with myself. And in the end, my addiction to such porn changed me.

I began to fantasize about mom having sex with other men. At first these were just strangers whom mom in my fantasies met on the street, in the metro, or somewhere else in a public place. Then… then I switched to her colleagues (other teachers). Then, to students. These fantasies aroused me the strongest.

I came like crazy, imagining how my mom has sex with eleventh-graders. It was incredible. I even took a few photos of my mom in uniform (I’ll call her usual work clothes a uniform for convenience of presentation), to look at them when I would once again stroke my cock and imagine various erotic scenes with her. Her school work uniform… a skirt to the knees (and sometimes a little to the middle of the thigh), necessarily black, dark-colored tights, a white blouse or shirt. Sometimes she put on a jacket over it if it was cool outside. And she had a pair of office pants, but she, fortunately, didn’t wear them too often. However, even in pants she was sexy. After all, they weren’t just wide pants. They emphasized mom’s figure, emphasized the curves of her hips and buttocks.

This continued until my eleventh grade. With each year I became more and more depraved. My fantasies overflowed. And the looks of my classmates and male teachers at my mom only exacerbated my abnormal addiction to cuckolding and betrayals. Now I was no longer interested in any other genres of porn. I was only interested in this. Only betrayals.

But that wasn’t all. I also aimed at something abnormal, almost crazy. I wanted to see how my mom has sex. Has sex with one of the students or colleagues. Although, in principle, it could be with another man. The main thing is that she does it. And of course, I must see it all.

I was developing a plan. I thought for a long time about how I could carry out what I had planned, but couldn’t come up with anything. More precisely, I had an idea that I could get mom drunk with alcohol, which might relax her and make her less vigilant and protected, after which someone, perhaps, would take advantage of her weakness and do this with her. But then I realized that alcohol is an unreliable means. Besides, I wasn’t sure that I could somehow get my mom drunk. And where would I do it? In general, the plan was the stupidest. I needed to come up with something else.

And at this very moment, by a happy coincidence, I came across an advertisement on the Internet about aphrodisiacs. No, I had seen it before, especially several years ago, when this was all super popular, and there were a large number of scammers on the net who traded allegedly aphrodisiacs from which any woman would flow. But recently such advertising hadn’t come across to me, and I decided that this was a sign.

It was worth trying.

And yes, I still treated all this with suspicion. I still very much doubted that aphrodisiacs really work, and that a woman can experience at least something from them. And the price tag was still sky-high. But I had to try. Therefore, having collected all my savings, I still bought a couple of pills in an online store and began to wait for their delivery. Meanwhile, March 8 was approaching.

The pills arrived on March 6. On March 7, a concert dedicated to schoolgirls and teachers was planned at school, after which there was to be a school disco, in parallel with a corporate party for teachers. A better moment couldn’t be found. I decided to act.

At the concert everything went well. We congratulated the fair sex on their upcoming holiday, after which everyone went together to the disco. Here I was lucky again: mom was appointed as a supervisor for the schoolchildren. That is, she had to from time to time check that at the disco everything was going well, that no one was hooliganing and not committing anything illegal. In general, she controlled the course of the event.

And so, a whole hour had already passed, and mom still wasn’t there. No, by this moment I still hadn’t given her the pills. She simply didn’t appear in the large gym, where the schoolchildren were dancing in the semi-darkness to the beats and basses of modern club music. She was at the corporate party, celebrating the holiday. I started to worry.

And what if I don’t succeed? What if she never comes down to us? When will I have another chance to do all this?

But then I saw a familiar silhouette in the doors of the gym. The silhouette was clearly female, and it was clearly not a schoolgirl. It proceeded to the equipment: the DJ console and large speakers from which the dance music was pouring. It was her, my mom.

The pills were in my pocket. But of course I couldn’t just give them to her. I needed to dissolve them in some drink. I started scanning around with my eyes and saw a bottle of water. Grabbing it, I went to mom, on the way throwing the aphrodisiac inside.

«If only it worked,» I thought to myself. «If only it affected her.»

— Want a drink, mom? — I said right away, and only then realized that perhaps I should have started somehow differently.

— Oh, you’re still here. I thought you’d already gone home.

— No, I decided to dance.

— Well, and correctly, — mom smiled. She smelled of alcohol. She had clearly been drinking.

— Want a drink? I have water here.

— Water? I wouldn’t refuse water. Thirst has been tormenting me so much.

I handed her the bottle. Cold sweat appeared on my forehead.

Here she brought the half-liter bottle to her lips, painted with bright red lipstick. First sip. Second. Third.

Mom really had a thirst, as she drank almost everything. I rejoiced. I was worried that the amount of liquid she would drink might not be enough for the aphrodisiac to work. Now I was sure that there would be no problems with that.

— Are you going back? — I asked.

— Yes. But I’ll come back.

— Come back. It’s boring here without you.

— Hehe. Go, dance, dear.

After these words mom went to the exit. The clicking of her heels (yes, she was wearing heels and a not very long evening dress of dark red color) I heard for a very long time in my head.

It began.