The Next day, skip every class but Mariah's.

You know you were dreaming, but you don't remember about what. You can figure it out, though, judging by the size of your morning wood. You look up at your alarm clock and see that it's already noon. After a quick shower and a bite to eat, you barely have time to gather your cum-pasted homework and get to school before Ms. Sullivan's class. You're at your locker getting your leather jacket put away when your pack of cigarettes falls out. The hallways should be empty, so it's no big deal, you just casually bend over to pick them up. When you look behind you, you see the pack of smokes on the floor, but unfortunately they landed between the sneaker-clad toes of Ms. Kappelle, the hard-assed gym teacher.

Your eyes ravish her body and immediately cause your cock to spring to full attention; you have no idea why you always skip gym class as you rake your eyes down her body while you bend over to pick up your cigarettes. The 5'4" brunette has a rock-solid body, every muscle toned but still somehow soft and sexy. She was a cheerleader at some University in the South and rumor has it she also stripped her way through college. Like Ms. Sullivan, this was her first year here and she was barely older than some of the students.

"Jake, is it?" she says, her foot starting to tap angrily on the floor as she spoke. It took a lot of effort to peel your eyes up to her angelic face and off her over-sized, probably store-bought tits. You couldn't help but notice two things before finding her dark brown eyes; she wasn't wearing a bra and her tiny little nipples were at full attention.

"Ms. Kappelle?" you say with some degree of seriousness but no less wood than you had before. Her eyes quickly lanced down to your erection and then back up as a curious smile crossed her lips.

"Cigarettes are not allowed in school," she said in total seriousness. "I can have you suspended for this, and I believe that would be enough to get your expelled," she added.

"You could," you say calmly, replacing the smokes in your jacket pocket.

"You smug son-of-a-bitch," she murmured under her breath. "You just don't give shit, do you?" she said with venom. You shrug and were about to say something but the bell at the end of class cut you off. Your eyes glance to it and then back to the ravishing creature before you. "You, my office, after school," she said and crushed the pocket with your smokes in it just before kids flooded the hall.

"Whatever," you say and head for Ms. Sullivan's sex-Ed class with your packet in hand.