"Kendra, why do you think you should have a higher grade?" I asked as she stood in front of my desk, holding her books against her under her chest so they pushed her tits up. It was the first indication I had that she was going to try to get a higher grade without any additional academic work. I was the fucking teacher, so I had to see where this would lead.
"Well, Ms. B.," she replied as she shifted her weight to one foot and leaned slightly forward. "I did add some freehand drawings to the assignment and even though Sara helped me, I did most of the work by myself. That should count for something. And I've handed in most of the homework. Besides, Jaime got a higher grade than I did and I looked at her work and it's not even as good as mine."
"True," I thought as Kendra kept rambling on with various bogus reasons of why her grade should be higher. Jamie did get a grade that was adjusted up after she came in after school and pleaded her case. It also helped that she massaged my shoulders and ended up eating my pussy as I leaned back in my chair with my feet on the edge of my desk. She was persistent with her massage technique and quite good. So good, in fact, that in no time her hands were inside my blouse on my generous tits.
"Jaime," I asked without any sense of disapproval. "What are you doing? Do you think it's appropriate to massage your teacher's breasts?"
"Ms. B., this feels so good when I do it to myself, I thought it would feel good if I did it to you. Does this feel good, Ms. B?"
"Yes, Jamie. It does feel good. If you unbuttoned my blouse, you could have better access," I encouraged, hoping she would take the hint.
Jaime moved around in front of me and unbuttoned my blouse and pulled it out of my skirt. She pushed both sides of my blouse outside my bra-encased breasts. She just stood there staring at my chest.
*****
Still in my early thirties, my C-cup tits were in fine shape. Nice, firm, and round with large areolas and prominent nipples that stiffened to more than a half inch with just the slightest provocation or touch. They were one of my defining qualities in my unending quest for fucking and being fucked.
Early on in our relationship my husband and I realized that I had an almost unquenchable thirst for sex. Understanding and accepting that, and taking advantage of available opportunities for sexual encounters, our mutually satisfying sex life included reliving my sexual encounters as we fucked. My teaching career afforded many opportunities which my husband and I relived.
My husband stopped teething my nipple long enough to ask "What did she do then?" I was naked from the waist down on the sofa in the living room. He had unbuttoned my blouse, unclasped my bra from the front, and was ravishing my tits. I had one hand pulling his head into my chest - god, I love it when he sucks my tits - and my other hand was struggling to free his eight-inch cock.
*****
"Jaime, you can touch them," I urged her.
She reached in and touched my lace half-bra, cupping each breast. Her breathing had noticeably increased. She rubbed her fingers over my tits above my bra.
"Ms. B. Your breasts are so nice - and so large! Can I see them?"
"Yes, Jaime. There's a clasp in the front. Just unclasp..."
