I gotta get me some of that!

You have played this scene out in your head hundreds of times throughout the years you’ve known Ms. Lovett. This may be your only chance to land the prize you’ve lusted for since you first met her.

Your mouth opens and closes a few times – a vain attempt to convey something coherent about how you feel at this moment, however your tongue is heavy as a lead bar, and your thoughts are running through your head a mile a minute. At this moment, your body decides that it’s time for instinct to take over. Your arms fly out from your body, and your hands start massaging some of the softest flesh it has ever had the chance to come in contact with. Your fingers make wide circles around her areolas, and then flip back and forth over her nipples through the fabric.

Ms. Lovett is clearly enjoying your ministrations. She arches her back in her seat, her large tits ready to tear open the top half of her dress. The idea that it's actually possible that her chest could do that makes your shaft throb painfully in your pants. You try to discreetly shift your leg (and by extension, your boxers) to get it into a more comfortable position. You're not sure such a position actually exists in your current rock-hard state.

Just when you finish maneuvering into a somewhat more tolerable position, you hear Ms. Lovett trying to stifle giggles. Damn, you think, this women doesn't miss a beat; no wonder she's such a good educator.

She softly pats the bulge in your pants, shaking her head slowly. “Silly boy. Clearly you don't have enough space down there. I think I might be able to help you with that.” Ms. Lovett gets up and leaves the room momentarily. She returns a minute later with a large, plush black pillow. With a determined look in her eye, she walks directly up to you, dropping the pillow on the floor directly in front of you. Very slowly, never talking her eyes off yours, Ms. Lovett descends to her knees. Once down, she unzips your pants with little ado. Reaching in, she purrs softly as she wraps her hand around your steely shaft. It takes her a moment, but she manages to wrestle your cock out of pants (hitting her chin in the process).

“See,” she says, eyes bright. “Much better, I think. Since there isn't any extra space in your pants, maybe I can fine a home for that pole of yours.” You grin wickedly as your eyes fly directly down to Ms. Lovett's crotch. You actually make her blush with your zeal. “I don't think,” she says with a sad smile, “that now is the time for that. But there are still other good places....”