March 16, 2006
I'm hot for teacher
I hated school. The best bits for me were watching the boys coming in from a P.E lesson covered in sweat and mud....and the piece de resistance: THE GORGEOUS MR PLUM..........
He taught History, but us young gels didn't give a stuff about The Great Fire, Guy Fawkes or The Crimea, all we knew was...when we had (whoopppeeee!!) a double class of History..... our navy blue knickers were so moist with adolecsent excitement, we practically had to wipe the seat with our the embroidered hankies (the only time grandma's Christmas present came in useful).
The man was a shambles...he had the gait of Herman Munster, and the dress sense of...of....well... a Historian, meaning NONE AT ALL.
He wore the same bottle green, oversized, handknitted (by his missus we found out)jumper. It was going baggy at the hem and there were one or two stitches which needed a touch of knit one and pearling two.
His shoes were a hightly burnished antiquey browny aubergine.......and they were so old (yet beautifully preserved)they squeaked and creaked as he strode into class.
I cannot remember the style of his hair, but he continually touched it and swept his hand through it distractedly. Fuck he was driving us girlies CRAZY!!!
It was JET BLACK.
His eyes were the kindest and most compassionate limpid pools of yumscrumptiousness (barring baby seals and bambi)...and i longed to bathe and luxuriate in them as his favourite pupil.
Any modern razor would find his stubble rising up a nano second after the sweep of a triple blade. He had a permanent brutish and thug like shadow. We longed for him to crush our delicate schoolgirl faces with his inbuilt 'please grater'..we would have worn our bruised lips and facial rashes as a badge of pride and a 'rite de passage'
And oh those rosebud lips....they soared and dipped with alarming aesthetic beauty. He licked them all the time and when he SPOKE...we all collectively keeled over with the honey/treacle/warmth effect.
His manner of speech was so soft and shy that we yearned to do well in our studies to make him more confident.
HE WAS SOOOOOO SHY!!!!
HE DIDN'T REALISE HOW BLOODY GOOD LOOKING HE WAS. And that is a killer combination.
My best mate Beverly used to purposely unbutton her summer uniform so that he could get a REAL good look. She was wasting her time...he seemed oblivious to the dreamy far away look that the female of the class wore.
We worshipped him. He was a 6' 5" (oh yes.....he was a tall mother fucker)..he was everything we wanted..TALL DARK AND HANDSOME AND OBLIVIOUS TO THE FACT.
We would have drunk his bath water, loved him in sickness and health, even SHARED him ..if it meant we could get close to him for a short while.
There was only 2 ways to ensnare him: TO BE A TOP PUPIL AND GET COPIOUS GOLD STARS----OR BE CRAP AND REQUIRE EXTRA TUITION.
I took the second route and was catatonic when he came so close i could smell his SOAP (it was Lifebouy).
He would put one arm on my desk, and the cuff of his grandad shirt would ride up to reveal the blackest shiniest and softest hairs creeping out of the pristine whiteness of his sleeve.
His whole body seemed to ENVELOP my 13 yr old frame....i was in a world of deep smit and i was about to freaking well EXPLODE!!
If i did not find something to stick up my school girl vagina..i was going to bloody well SELF COMBUST.
I think most fondly of the padded, satin covered coat hanger when ever i visit home and i feel so horny typing this that i will have to sort myself out right now......Oh Mr Plum, you beautiful hunk of manhood you!!!!!
Posted by Letitcia at 06:55 PM | Comments (1)
July 05, 2005
The youth of today eh?
It has long been a source of great amusement to my mates, family and passing aquaintences---the fact that i prefer much younger men-----I am always looking for a perfect fraction----someone who is at LEAST half my age.
I had a date with that very thing only the other day------this is how it panned out----------
All the signs were good, he rang to say he would be 10 mins late (good boy).
Though already i thought that it was slightly tiresome that his mobile was: a) out of order b) been nicked c) out of credit (due to the fact that he did not have a job), and therefore he had to go to a phone box to close the final details of my address.
So, the death knell of my buzzer rang eventually.
He was as advertised (from a dating site) 6'4", cute and with size 13 Timberlands---and we all know what THAT means don't we ladies?
'I see you arrived empty handed' i said
'Wot, you though' i wus gonna come wiv me overnight didya' he replied
This is where you know the age gap cannot be bridged. Sure older women fancy younger men and vice versa---but would it be SSssssooooomuch trouble for them to have by passed the JERK phase???
I had ensured fresh flowers, alcohol---and fluffy towels were available, and he, in is youthful arrogance had just rocked up.
Like i was suppposed to be grateful.
Within another 5 minutes his first brain numbingly gauche statement tumbled from his lips like a Pyreneean avalanche: 'Yeah, your-- like ---similar age to me Mum, --------ME MUM LOOKS YOUNGER THOUGH.
Resisting the urge to head butt him, i smiled sweetly as he slowly but surely hanged hinself with the misplaced swagger of the barely post pubescent.
'Wotcha pay for this then' he asked, surveying the view and opulent surroundings
I declined to answer.
'I reckon on a scale of 1 to 10, i'm 9 an'half' he beamed.
(Gee, aren't I just the lucky little possum)
I declined to comment on that too
Soon he was making the worst kind of social gaffe (where you are actually looking to get laid) every 5 minutes.
'Is that a hair on yer boob?' he asked
I couldn't see one, but he persisted: 'yeah, it IS' he exclaimed holding the 'ducks down' of a blond hair (which MOST women have on their breasts) between his thumb and forefinger.
''Ere, yer not a bloke are ya??' he exclaimed.
Through gritted teeth i assured him i wasn't.
Stumbling on through this less than torrid date, we reached a stroking, touching hands thing on my leather lounge.
'ow much longer have i got to keep doin' this for?' he whined.
If this young buck wanted pulverised knackers, he was going the right way about it.
He then proceeded to lecture me :'Ya didn' make it plain wot it was you wus lookin' for in yer ad'.
In short he wanted a zipless fuck withing 30 seconds of arrival, hell, even my PATRONS DON'T WANT THAT.
Were i to have lived at---oh, lets say number 100 in 'somewhere in Brighton road', he wanted to shaft me to within yards of 107. This was not a happening thing.
I questioned his M.O and his answer was: 'yeah but you only do THAT kind of soft lovey dovey stuff with someone you luv an' care abart'.
I really (i am being serious) MUST set up an academy of love making skills.
I couldn't help thinking of all the poor ladies and gents who are putting up with a perfunctuary time.
I personally will not put up with that kind of shit.If people are not inately doing it, then they will just have to be taught.
And i know the very teacher to do it!!
Step this way ingenues!!!
Posted by Letitcia at 04:53 PM | Comments (0)