Next day at School

Waking up, you were still pretty stiff from getting knocked over by Jennifer Marlow. After a long hot shower, black coffee, and a muffin, you stumbled out the door. After a quick 20-minute drive, you arrived at campus. Checking in at the office, Principal Smalley showed you to your classroom.

Four years of work, and here you were in your classroom. The previous teachers' personal items had already been gathered to be given to her next of kin, but the room still was more hers than yours.

Your daily schedule, until they could hire a qualified cheerleading coach, was four classes, then lunch followed by two more classes, then after-school activities.

The school day started off well. You called roll and then introduced yourself to your students. You then went over your expectations with the kids and your classroom rules. They, of course, had questions like what happened to Mrs. Rodriguez. Not wanting a lie, you told them she had passed away due to an accident, and they, of course, were shaken up.

By the time 4th period came, word had gotten out about Mrs. Rodriguez, so the kids weren't asking that question. You were looking at the roll book as the students streamed into class when you heard a familiar voice call out, "Hey, Mr. Clarkson."

Looking up, you saw Jennifer Marlow and two other senior girls stroll into class. Today, she was wearing a white button-down shirt that was slightly damp from the heat and humidity. Looking at her skirt, you could see it was definitely shorter than yesterday; if it wasn't bending the dress code, it was breaking it.

After putting their things down, the three of them came up to my desk. "Once again, I'm really sorry about yesterday," you nod, and she continues, "Yesterday, when I got home, I realized something of yours got mixed in with my things."

Opening her handbag, she hands you your ID. As much as you want to, you couldn't rightly accuse her of being a pickpocket, so you just say, "Thanks."

"Kat, Janna, from what I hear, Mr. Clarkson's our coach this year." The two girls smile at you. Jennifer continues, "Mr. Clarkson, these are my friends and cheer mates Katenya Ruchenko from Ukraine and Janna Torres."

Katenya Ruchenko was maybe an inch taller than Jennifer, so 5'9". She had almost white blond hair with high-arching eyebrows that gave her an almost elfin look. Her breasts were not as generous as either of her friends' and looked to be in the B range.

Janna Torres, like most cheerleaders, was not a tall girl clocked in 5'6. She has long silky black hair and the complexion common among Latinas. Her body, it was like, was custom-made to have babies. Her breasts were a gravity-defying D cup. Furthermore, her hips were wide, and her ass was the type that rappers would obsess over.

After returning your ID, the trio took their seats in the final row of desks. What came next for you was one of the most surreal 55 minutes of your life. Earlier you started by calling roll and introducing yourself.

Then, as you started to go over the syllabus and expectations. Calmly with a sexy little smirk, Miss Marlow undid the top button on her shirt and stretched. Not wanting to call attention to her behavior, you kept on with what you were saying.

Apparently, taking this as a challenge, over the next 15 minutes, two more buttons came undone on her shirt, showing off more of her cleavage whenever your eyes passed over her side of the room.

Getting to the point where you asked if any students had any questions. Kat raised her hand as you engaged with her question; your mind was derailed entirely. Miss Marlow, without you noticing, had managed to pull her skirt up to her waist.

All you could see was her well-toned cheerleader thigh; the slut wasn't wearing panties. Babbling what was hopefully a coherent answer, you walked around the desk, not wanting the student to see their brand-new teacher get an erection in front of them. Sitting down turned out to be a grave error, which Miss Marlow took full advantage of.

Still sporting that sexy smirk of hers, she spread her legs enough to give you a good look at her bare pussy. In a full mental panic you tell your class, "Listen, I want you all to read chapter one tonight, and I'll release you early to lunch this time. How does that sound?"

The class, of course, loved it and started to pack up. Miss Marlow quickly pulled down her skirt and rebuttoned her shirt. As your class started streaming out a full 10 minutes early, you called out, "Miss Marlow, a minute, please?"

"I'll catch up," she says to her friends.

The classroom door closes; it's just the two of you.