MISS WALKER, MY FORMER TEACHER
CHAPTER 1
When I was a freshman in college I had a crush on one of my instructors. All the guys did. Her name was Ellen Walker. Of course we called her Miss Walker. She was fresh out of college and in her mid 20's. She was actually a teacher's assistant. And gorgeous. She had medium length jet black hair, legs up to her neck, and a set of tits we all drooled over. She didn't dress particularly sexily but she didn't need to. To a bunch of hormone driven young men anything she wore was sexy. She usually wore a knee length skirt and a blouse that didn't really show anything. But we could tell she had a nice set of tits underneath. Sometimes she wore slacks and that gave us a nice view of her ass when she was writing on the blackboard. And she always smelled divine. I did really well in her class despite the distraction of looking at her. I guess I wanted to excel to get her attention. And even did extra work for extra credit. And it worked. She always congratulated me on my grades and told me how smart I was. I had her as my teacher for 2 years. I had a different teacher, Mrs. Rosenblum, the next two years. I was disappointed but still did well in the class. We heard that Miss Walker had left but we didn't know where she went.
CHAPTER 2
Believe it or not I actually enjoyed English and Literature classes when I was in high school. I found it interesting, and I thought I might like to become a writer. So when I went to college I took Literature, History, and journalism classes.
I met a girl named Denise, fell in love and married her while we were still in school. We lived in my parents basement until we finished school and got jobs. We had 1 child, a boy we named Michael after my grandfather. By the way, my name is David. I am now 38. Denise and I were together 13 years then divorced. I did become a writer, albeit not all that successful. I have sold a few pieces but never made a lot of money. She wanted more and wanted me to find another line of work and I wanted to pursue my writing. After numerous discussions and arguments we decided it best to go our separate ways. We have joint custody of Michael. He is 16 now and lives with her and I get him on the weekends.
Michael is the typical 16 year old. Rebellious and hardheaded. Everything Denise or I tell him is wrong and he knows a better way. Can't say I was any different at that age. He is a sophomore in high school. He wasn't doing very well in school, barely passing his required courses. We had been told a couple of times that he was in danger of failing some of them. All but English. He was doing okay there, but not great. Like father like son I guess.
Denise called me and said that there was a parent/teacher conference scheduled and she was not going to be able to go as she was going to be out of town at a business conference. We normally go to these things together. So I was left to deal with it alone. Michael and I went to each of his classrooms and had a discussion with his teachers. They all said pretty much the same thing. Michael was a smart kid but didn't apply himself. He could do the work if he would only try, but he seemed totally uninterested. It was not that he couldn't do it, it was that he wouldn't.
We walked into his English classroom and I saw the backside of his teacher getting something from a desk drawer. 'Nice ass,' I thought. She was wearing a very conservative blue dress that came almost to her knees but it did nothing to hide that nice ass. I said, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Holloway?"
Without turning around she said, "Yes. Sorry. I'll be right with you. I just need to get a few papers ready here. There. All set."
She stood and turned around. Imagine my surprise when I recognized her. "Miss Walker?", I asked.
"Actually it's Mrs. Holloway now, but, yes, I was Ellen Walker. And you are David Stanton, I believe."
"Yes. Sorry. I knew your name was Holloway but when I saw you I immediately recognized you as Miss Walker. I'm surprised you remember me after all these years and thousands of students."
She was still stunning. Older of course. She would be in her 40's now. But still every bit as attractive as she was 20 years ago. She still had a fantastic figure. Her dress was conservative but it clung to her hips and breasts and showed her figure off nicely. She never did dress sluttily or even sexily. Not at school anyway. I don't know what she did in her private life.
"I remember you well. You were one of my star pupils. I see now why Michael does well in my class. He gets it from you. How have you been?"
"Okay. I am a writer as I told you in school I wanted to be. Not all that successful, but I get by. How about you?"
"Still teaching as you can see. I enjoy it. Anyway. Let's talk about Michael."
She sat behind her desk and Michael and I sat in the student desks. This was the only class that Michael was doing okay in. But she said he could do much better if he would only try a little harder. She said it seemed like he was distracted most of the time. 'Duhh,' I thought. 'He's distracted by you.' But I didn't say that. She showed me some of his papers. That's what she had been getting out of the desk. Some were incomplete, some were sloppy, some were very good. She said, "As you can see, he can do the work, and is quite intelligent, but sometimes it seems like he just doesn't want to."
We talked a while longer and I promised that Denise and I would try our best to help him get his grades up. I told her it was really nice to see her again and she said the same to me. I told Michael on the way home about my crush on her when I was in school and I could understand him being distracted sometimes. He denied it of course. We talked more when we got home and he promised to do better.
CHAPTER 3
In the next semester Michael didn't do any better. Denise and I both tried to help him but he just wouldn't do the assigned work and we were getting frustrated. I contacted the school and asked if they knew any tutors that were available. They said yes, they always keep a list of tutors. They gave me a list of names and numbers. To my delight Miss Walker, I mean Mrs. Holloway, was one of them. So of course she was the first one I called. She said she would be delighted to work with Michael. We arranged for her to come once a week on Wednesday evening to Denise's house. I kind of wanted her to come to my house but he was at his mom's during the week. I did tell her that Denise and I were divorced and that he lived with her and came to my house on the weekends.
His grades did improve a little in the next semester. I had called Mrs. Holloway a couple of times to keep up with his work. She told me he was trying a little harder and his grades were looking a little better. I asked if she was willing to continue working with him and she said she was. For as long as we needed her to and he was willing. I thanked her for all her help.
We were into the fourth semester now and it looked like Michael just might squeak by and pass everything. We had another parent/teacher conference at the end of that semester and Denise and I both went. All the teachers were happy with his improvement as were we.
Michael was staying with me the next 2 weeks as Denise was on vacation and went to New York with a couple of her girlfriends. So Mrs. Holloway came to my house for the tutoring session those two weeks. She looked quite stunning in a pair of tight jeans and a red blouse. A little more casual than what she wore at school. Her and Michael sat in the den and I kept myself occupied with some writing.
When the session was over I asked her if she would like a drink. She declined but said a glass of iced tea would be great if I had any. I did. I got her and I both a glass and we sat down to talk. She said Michael was doing very well. I thanked her profusely and told her how grateful we were for her help. She said she was glad to do it. And that she understood that sometimes kids from a broken family struggle with their work because they feel responsible. Then she told me that she was divorced, also. Had been for about 3 years. No kids. We talked for about a half hour and she went home.
CHAPTER 4
The next week she came to my house again. This time she had on a blue dress that came to about 4 inches above her knees. And clung to her curves nicely. Not slutty or provocative but quite sexy. I couldn't help but watch her ass as she went into the den for the tutoring session. After they were done studying Michael went out to help one of his friends hook up a game console he had bought. I offered Mrs. Holloway something to drink again and she said she would love to have a beer. I got her one and we sat in the den to talk. I told her she looked very nice this evening. "Why, thank you. But I didn't do anything different. This is how I dress at school all the time."
"I know. But you do look really nice."
I sat in my favorite chair and she sat on the sofa opposite me. She crossed her legs and I couldn't help but watch them, hoping for an upskirt glance. But I was disappointed. Our talk soon turned to our exes. Neither of us were bitter about our divorces. It was just that our jobs got in the way. And our respective spouses couldn't deal with it. Her ex said she spent too much time grading papers and preparing lessons. Mine said she needed a better provider.
I told her how I had a crush on her in school. "I know," she said. "I could tell. Several of you boys did. It's pretty easy to read young men."
"Oh. Yeah, I guess college age boys are not real good at hiding their, shall we say, lust."
She laughed. I did too. "Nothing wrong with it. Just growing pains. Girls do it, too. I had a crush on my English teacher, too. Mr. Harrison. Us girls drooled all over ourselves talking about him."
We both laughed again. "Do you want another beer? Or anything else?"
"I probably shouldn't. But what the heck? One more couldn't hurt."
"That's the spirit." I got us both another beer and sat on the opposite end of the sofa from her this time. She turned toward me. "So," I said. "Anybody special in your life since your divorce? Not that it's any of my business. Just making conversation."
"Not really. I've dated a little here and there, but none of them worked out. I see one man, another teacher, occasionally, but just as a friend. Actually I suspect but don't know, that he's gay."
