My first thought was:That looks like Mrs. H.My second thought — as the woman approached the deli counter where I was working to put myself through college — was:That is Mrs. H.

She caught me staring. She always seemed to have a finely tuned radar, able to detect whenever she was being watched. I used to carefully observe her in class during my junior year in high school. I’d watch her tuck her reddish-brown hair behind the delicate shell of her ear. I’d watch her cross, uncross and re-cross her shapely legs. And I’d definitely, unabashedly, watch her heart-shaped ass as she walked down the school’s long halls in her clacking high heels.

She was my first honest-to-goodness woman crush. And suddenly she was walking toward me in real life as I did my best not to slice off my finger while I precut some honey-baked ham.

“I thought that was you!” she exclaimed.

I hadn’t seen her since high school graduation three years ago, but she was still as hot as I remembered. A perfect hourglass figure clad in tight jeans, a black sweater that showed off her tits and comfortable-looking sneakers. Her long hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. She wore barely any makeup, but her big green eyes and broad smile could stiffen any dude’s dick — even though she was probably pushing 50.

“It is me,” I said, my voice cracking from nerves. “Hi, Mrs. H.”

She rolled her eyes and told me, “Anita, please. You’re not my student anymore.”

“Anita,” I said. But it felt weird.

“How are you?” she asked, leaning against the deli counter. She smashed her boobs up against the glass display case, and my cock jerked in my pants.

“Fine. Busy. Working a lot to get through school,” I told her.

And she was off. Grilling me about classes, my GPA, college life, and finally, the inevitable — girlfriend.

“No girlfriend,” I admitted shyly.

“No girlfriend!” she repeated with surprise.

Was I crazy, or had there been a sparkle in her eye as she said that?

“Nope.”

“Hmm,” she uttered, checking the time on her cell. “I have to go. I have a tutoring appointment. Give me your phone.”

I didn’t question it. I had never questioned my favorite teacher.

She tapped away and then handed it back to me.

“My number’s in there. My husband would love to meet you. You always were my favorite student,” she said as her fingers curled against my wrist and I feared I’d come in my pants. “I’d love to catch up.”

“I’ll call,” I croaked.

“Soon,” she said, before hurrying off.

Husband? Soon? I planned to dial her after I got off work, but I wasn’t sure I was correctly interpreting her overture. But if I was, “catching up” would prove to be very interesting.

She didn’t seem surprised when I called. But I was surprised when she answered her apartment door wearing a pair of short shorts, an oversized sweatshirt and fluffy socks. Her hair was loose. There were flames flickering in the fireplace. Her husband sat silently in a chair in the corner. He gave me a friendly nod, but said nothing.

She shut the door behind me, then stood on tiptoe to kiss me. When her lips touched mine, I knew my hunch about that evening was correct. Feeling bold, I wrapped my arms around her waist and yanked her against me. Knowing her husband was watching us added a whole other dimension to the flirtatious moment.

Anita’s hand ran up and down the length of my cock, which had already stiffened beneath my jeans. I thrust against her hand instinctively. I wanted to feel her fingers on my skin, have them wrap around my girth. I raked my teeth down her neck and felt her nipples pebble against my chest.

“God, I’ve always wanted you,” I said.

She laughed softly. Then her mouth was on mine again, and her body pressed even harder against me. I jammed my hand down the back of her skimpy shorts and grabbed her bare ass, holding her against me tightly as we kissed.

In the corner, her husband released a soft sound of satisfaction.

“Get on your knees,” she said.

A wave of giddiness hit me.

This is really happening,I thought.

I obeyed her.

Anita shimmied out of her shorts and widened her stance. I groaned when I caught sight of her trimmed pussy. I parted her glossy lips with my fingers, leaned in and licked her clit. It was hard and swollen, a little knot of flesh beneath my tongue.

She grabbed a handful of my hair as she groaned with pleasure.

I licked her again, taking my time and drawing it out. I sucked on her nub gently, and when she sighed, I did it again. I kicked off a steady rhythm of licking and sucking, and when her hips bumped forward to thrust against my mouth, I pushed two fingers inside her cunt.

Her pussy was plump and drenched, and it gripped my fingers tightly. I nudged her clit with my tongue as I thrust my digits back inside her deeply. I hooked my fingers against the wet velvet walls of her vagina, and she trembled and came.

Once she’d caught her breath, Anita tugged my hair hard enough to make me sit back on my haunches and said, “Let’s go by the fire.”

She’d put down several plush blankets, and I sat down on them before the flickering flames. I heard a subtle sound that I equated with a hand dragging up and down a hard cock. Knowing her husband was jerking off excited me more than I’d anticipated.

I pulled off my sweater, suddenly bare-chested in front of the radiant heat and golden light. She undid my belt buckle and opened my jeans. The whole time I wondered if I’d come in my pants before she got to my prick. But I managed to hold out.

Once I was naked, she leaned over and ran her tongue around my cockhead. My hips bucked, and we both laughed.

“You’re hung,” she said admiringly.

I must have looked surprised.

“I’m a teacher, not dead. Anyhow, you’re a college man now. You can handle it. Can’t you?”

She cocked an eyebrow, but before I could answer her, she slid her mouth down my shaft. She took me all the way to the root, and I bit my tongue to keep my focus. She withdrew her mouth slowly. Then she sucked the tip again, giving my balls a little squeeze.

I half wondered if I’d died and gone to heaven.

Anita’s blowjob really blew my mind. I trailed my fingers through her long hair and thrust up into her wet and wonderful mouth.

“God, that feels good,” I muttered.

She pulled back to say, “Does it?”

“God, yes,” her husband hissed.

Anita nipped my thigh, and I jumped at the unexpected spark of pain. I nodded crazily in agreement with her husband.

“So you like this?” she asked teasingly before drawing on my shaft like a straw.

I groaned affirmatively, and she did it again.

“I’m glad you like it,” she whispered. Then she licked a hot line up my balls, and I quivered. I was helpless and at her mercy.

She sucked my nuts into her mouth, one at a time, and I gripped my hands into fists.

The raspy sound of her husband jerking his meat increased. He was getting off on this — and so was I.

“Do you want to fuck me?” she asked.

“Hell yeah!” I blurted out.

She smiled and whipped off her oversized sweatshirt to reveal spectacular tits: large, shapely, with tiny pink nipples that were surrounded by taut haloes of flesh. Straddling my hips, she brought her boobs to my lips, and I sucked one nipple into my mouth and bit it. When she yelped, I moved on to the other. My hands were everywhere, roaming, massaging and stroking her incredibly soft skin.

I was so fixated on her breasts, that when she suddenly lowered her wet pussy onto my dick, she caught me off guard.

“Ah, that’s good,” she whispered. “You’re stretching me, filling me up, hitting all the right places.”

I was stunned and overjoyed to hear her graphic talk. She started to move, rocking atop me with her breasts in my face. I nuzzled her tits as I started to thrust up from beneath her.

She was hot and tight and incredibly wet. She was perfect.

Anita sat back and wiggled her hips from side to side with me still buried deep inside her pussy. She pinched my nipples, and a zing of electricity shot through me. Usually, that did nothing for me. It must have been the magic of my favorite teacher.

She rode me slowly, resting her hands on my shoulders as she worked her cunt up and down my shaft. I held her hips as she moved and focused on the feeling of her pussy constricting and squeezing me.

“Are you going to come, sweetheart?” she cooed. I wasn’t sure who she was talking to.

“I am. Soon,” I told her.

A sound of agreement came from the corner.

“Hold that thought.”

She leaned over and kissed me softly. But the kiss turned into a nip as she used her teeth on my lower lip. Simultaneously, she tightened her cunt around me.

I gasped. I couldn’t help it. It was like being squeezed by a hot, wet fist.

“I see I have your attention.”

She did it again — and again.

I was thrashing my head, trying to hold on and hoping Anita would come one more time before I unloaded in her.

She squeezed me with her internal muscles once more, and I lightly slapped her ass. She purred like a jungle cat, so I let loose with a flurry of swats that seemed to fire her up.

I thrust up from under her, driving into that impossibly tight pussy.

She was sweaty, breathing hard and wet like a fucking river between her thighs. When she finally climaxed, she squeezed my shoulders painfully hard. But that didn’t stop me from driving up into her one last time — and that was that. The culmination of all my fantasies.

I heard a satisfied grunt of release from her husband.

Afterward, she formally introduced me to her hubby. They invited me to stick around for an encore, and I accepted, eager to advance my erotic education.