Move on to the next class

You sat in a middle-row seat seeing an attractive blonde hair older woman in the classic teacher uniform. A red blouse and a tight black thigh-high skirt showed off her aging sexy curves. From the spot where you are sitting, you could see her toned stomach. You couldn't believe a woman of her age kept everything so unbelievably tight.

The blonde cougar walks throughout the classroom with a suggestive symbolic saunter. Her eyes peer into the early twenties and late teenage students. She hops onto her desk crossing her legs to hide the sweet generation of pussy. She smiles a warm grin at her students.

"I'm Love. Ms. Love, or Bandi to you guys. I have been teaching and nurturing the hero of the future for years. If you need my wisdom or just need a shoulder to cry on about whatever. Come to me. You can tell me about your relationship, or your problems in any classroom if a man or woman advances on you in a way you don't want, or whatever. I won't tell you what we'll be doing in my class. But you can come into my room and discuss why you want to save people and be a great hero." The blonde teacher said heading off to her private office.

You decide not to talk with her as a few people departed to talk with her. A few with goals of getting better and a few went to gaze at the sexy blonde woman's rigid hot body. You look at the guys in the class seizing up the competition. You wonder why all of the teachers are giving everyone this much time to prepare for the final class of the day. Something big must transpire at the end of the class day.

You heard the Jewish girls in conversation with the petite girl with daring and darkness in her eyes. The Jewish girl in her night clubbing attire asks the question on everyone's mind. "Why are they doing this to us? Why are the teacher telling us that we are having relaxed studies for the day?"

The petite brunette shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe the next class is going to be the toughest. It's the only thing I can suggest."

A guy in jean denim overalls said a deep country twang. "Come on y'all. Y'all guys don't see it. Mmm people called me a sup-up redneck but I can see a paint of a truck getting thrown into the trash."

They both say in equally confusing voices. "What?"

You understood what he is saying, even in that hick tone. But you kept to yourself as you hear a few more conversations throughout the classroom. Nothing too important is getting said before you hear.

"Come on girl, you and I should go on a date. Hell, I'll even pay." Said an Italian man to the tiny ebony chick. He trying to lay out what he could offer the beautiful afro girl in a relationship.

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