I was in my senior year at college and working at a bar part-time to earn extra cash. The pay wasn’t so great, but the tips helped. I also got to hook up with lots of college girls and the occasional older woman.

One Friday night, a woman walked in who looked vaguely familiar. While I took her order, I tried my best to remember where I knew her from, but I just couldn’t place her. She had a great body, and I pegged her to be somewhere in her forties. I kept checking her out as I served other customers until it finally clicked. Her name was Mrs. Channing, and she’d been my seventh-grade English teacher. She’d looked good back then, too, especially to a class full of horny guys obsessed with tits and ass. She’d just about finished her drink, so I mixed a refill and placed it in front of her. That’s when I noticed she no longer wore her wedding ring.

“I didn’t order another,” she said, looking up at me.

“It’s on the house, Mrs. Channing,” I said. “It took me a minute, but I’m pretty good with faces.”

Whether she remembered me or not didn’t really matter. I was about to finish my shift, and I’d fantasized enough about her back then that I still wanted to know what it would be like to run my hands through her silky hair while sucking on her breasts. I wanted to kiss my way up from her gorgeous legs to her hot sex. I wanted to make her come and scream my name as I licked her senseless. Then I wanted to fuck her till she couldn’t take it anymore.

It turned out that she lived in the area, and her car was parked nearby. I could have caught the bus home, like I usually did, but I asked her for a ride, and she was quite willing to drop me off at my apartment. When we got to my place, I invited her up for a beer so we could catch up. There really wasn’t much to talk about, but the attraction was there and I didn’t have to do a lot of convincing to get her to come in.

When we were inside, I backed her up against the door and kissed her, slow and deep, as I finally got to feel those awesome tits that had me mesmerized years ago. My cock had been hard and ready ever since we’d left the bar, and I made sure she felt it pressing into her belly. She moaned into my mouth and began tearing at my clothes. I let her free my cock, then worked at getting her naked.

I led her toward my futon, and when she was lying on her back, I knelt between her legs while telling her how beautiful she was, how I’d always wanted to fuck her, how wet her pussy looked, and how I could come just from looking at her. If she had any reservations or second thoughts about fucking a former student, she didn’t show it. She dipped her fingers into her pussy, and when she pulled them out I grabbed her hand and licked them clean, enjoying her tangy taste. I was about to dive in for more when she grabbed my dick and pulled it right up against her dripping-wet sex. After sliding it up and down, coating it with her juices, she aimed it at her opening and guided it inside her slick folds.

I groaned as her pussy engulfed my dick, its warm, wet walls wrapping tightly around my shaft and bringing me a pleasure I’d never expected. I started fucking her pretty hard after that, and with each slam of my cock, she moaned and bucked, meeting me thrust for thrust. Her nails scored my back and shoulders as she clung to me, trying to fuck me harder, and I gave her exactly what she wanted, banging her with abandon.

When she came, she screamed — not my name, but something I couldn’t make out. It didn’t matter, though, because the viselike grip her pussy had on my cock was enough to make me lose my rhythm and shoot her full of jizz.

I got to know Mrs. Channing quite well that night, and we’ve been fucking on a fairly regular basis. The age difference isn’t important to either of us. What’s important to me is that we’re on a first-name basis now, which means that when I make her come, it’s clearly my name that she screams.