All of the characters in this work of fiction are age 18 or older.
The plot of this story was given to me by zurustru. I have never tried to flesh out someone else's plot in this manner, so please be patient with the tale. This story contains reluctance, forced sexual activity and humiliation.
Thanks, as always, to my Beta Reader, FangsAnarchy, for remaining vigilant against my proclivities towards rushing the good parts.
Votes and comments are welcome. Please keep it polite. Thank you.
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The stories were legendary. There were descriptions from trusted sources. Students who used to go to Overbrook High School, but were now in college, had seen Mrs. Flick jogging near Clementon Water Park during the summer. Due to the heat, she wore very little. Despite being forty she was, according to the tales, slim with an amazing ass and enormous naturally firm boobs. All the teenage boys of the Pine Hill area prayed for the day they might catch a glimpse of Mrs. Flick's angelic body. They knew it would never happen where she worked. Mrs. Flick dressed so conservatively, she made nuns look like strippers.
Samantha Flick was an English Teacher at Overbrook High School. She had a firm reputation as a good teacher. She cared about her students. She never wore makeup to school, but anyone could tell she was beautiful. She rarely bared any skin. Her blouses were always buttoned all the way and topped with a blazer. Her slacks were always full length. Her shoes were always practical for a woman who spent the majority of the day on her feet. Her ebony hair was always in a tight bun and her thick rimmed glasses were always perfectly in place. If the rumors of how hot she looked when jogging hadn't wafted through the halls of the school, very few people ever would have thought of her sexually. She was certainly pretty, but she was far too covered up for most people to invest their imaginations.
Once the word goddess was used, however, the boys started paying attention. All the seniors at Overbrook knew where Mrs. Flick lived. Her son, Tom, was their classmate. Most of the seniors liked Tom. He was a regular guy and decent looking. Tom's friends often spoke about how sexy his mom was. They knew how angry he got to hear this, but they would say it all the time anyway. Tom did not want to think about his mom like that. She was Mom. She never acted sexy, Tom thought. She worked all day. She cooked. She occasionally helped Tom with his homework and she read a ton of books. Tom honestly could not understand what his classmates saw in her.
Tom was not in his mother's English class but his friend, Tucker, was. Tucker could never shut up about how sexy he thought she was. He was always talking about it to Tom and their friend, Jeff. Jeff was in the same English class as Tom.
"Man," Tucker would say, "she was writing on the board today and she had this little wiggle going on. I got so fucking hard watching her. It was unreal!"
"Dude!" Tom would shout. "For the last time, I don't want to hear about you getting a boner looking at my mother. It's sick. My mom is a dowdy teacher. Drool over the French teacher like everyone else, for fuck's sake!"
"Oh, come on, bro!" Tucker would retort. "Your mom is way hotter than Ms. Price. Ms. Price just dresses better."
Jeff usually didn't get involved in the arguments but he did spend quite a bit of time checking Mrs. Flick out. He was a frequent dinner guest since Mr. Flick usually ate before getting home.
Mr. Flick left early every day for his commute to New York City. He was a wealthy day trader on Wall Street. He loved his wife and son but felt determined to work hard and make even more money. He was never quite satisfied with his bank account.
Tom hated to hear his friends refer to his mother as a MILF. It was something that always got him angry. They knew it and yet Jeff and Tucker seemed to go out of their way on a daily basis to call her that. His classmates at school were even worse. They said MILF all the time when they referred to her. They would often wonder aloud if she was a nasty slut.
Male students from her English class loved to tell the story of the first day of class. She wrote her name, Mrs. Flick, in all capital letters on the board. The l and the i were written very closely together and to several students in the back it looked, instead, like a u. Those students, from that day on, began secretly calling her Mrs. Fuck. Soon, almost all of the male seniors were talking about wanting to fuck Mrs. Fuck.
Tom did his best to ignore all the scandalous things being said about his mother. It wasn't easy. His hormone-crazed colleagues seemed to get worse every day. Tom felt stress at school having to bear the remarks of classmates who didn't realize he could hear them. He asked his friends for ways to get his mind off the things guys said about his mom.
Tom, Tucker and Jeff started going out skateboarding at night. They would attempt jumps, rail grinds and other tricks. It worked at first, but Tom needed a bigger diversion.
One night in March, the boys broke into the school. They found an unlocked window on the ground floor and slid in. It was harmless fun. They went into classrooms and drew dirty pictures on the boards. They broke the lock on the trophy case outside the main office and ran around with the school's pride and joy: a huge football trophy for being division champions. Tucker was riding the trophy as though it were a horse when it slipped out of his hands and smashed on the floor. The boys panicked. They ran out one of the side doors, not realizing they would set off the fire alarm.
They jumped into Tucker's car and zoomed away from the high school. They were so shaken up, it wasn't until much later - when he was home and getting ready for bed - that Tom realized he was no longer wearing his ball cap. He shrugged his shoulders and concluded he had already taken it off without realizing.
The next morning, Saturday, Samantha got a call from the school. The three intruders were caught on the school's closed circuit television system and the Vice Principal thought that one of the culprits bore a striking resemblance to Tom. Abe, the Vice Principal, asked Samantha to come in to look at the footage.
What she saw appalled her. It was clear enough to her that Tom was one of the three individuals caught on the CCTV. She could tell by his posture and the way he moved. She couldn't tell who the other two were. They were all wearing ball caps and never looked up at any of the cameras.
Abe showed her something the perpetrators left behind. It was a ball cap. It was the same school logo ball cap that half the boys wore but Samantha was sure in her heart that this ball cap belonged to Tom. Samantha admitted that the boy on the video screen resembled Tom and she promised to ask him.
"It's too late for that," said Abe.
"What do you mean?" Samantha asked.
"I've already called the police," he replied.
"Why did you do that?" she asked, concerned for her son.
"Sam, it's school policy. We have a break in and we call the police. That's how it works. I just thought you should see this. I didn't want you to get caught blindsided by this."
Samantha thanked Abe and, shortly thereafter, returned home. She called for Tom who had slept in.
"Tom?!?"
"Yeah, Mom?"
"Where's your school baseball cap?"
"Uh, I'm not sure. I misplaced it before I went to bed last night. Why?"
"Did you possibly misplace it outside the school office last night after destroying the division championship trophy?"
