Inspired by Hot For Teacher by 
I often stayed late after English Lit,
though I couldn't quite figure out why.
Was it syntax and gerunds and commas I craved,
Or Jack London's Call of the Wild?
"No, that can't be it," I uttered inside
from the place where the soft yearning stirred.
"As much as I love a good past participle,
I feel a warm tingling burn."
This ember, this flame, in a place I can't place
Where a part of me wants to burst free--
--Then it happened, the red-headed teacher walked by
With her tightly wrapped cardigan Vee.
The softness surrounding her nipples perked up,
The fuzz from her fabric jumped toward me
I tried to avert my delicate gaze
But this yearning inside over powered me.
How Principal Tanner allowed her to sport
Such tightly wound skirts up the thigh
And pinch her small feet in those leather strap shoes
Is a mystery. Wait...now I know why.
But I digress. Let's get back to the breasts.
And the ass, of this red-headed bird.
Did I mention her legs? The formidable missiles
Of muscle and power and ferve?
How I wanted to touch all the parts of her frame
With my fingers, my lips, and my core.
All I felt, when I sat for instruction each day
Was insatiable lust for more.
"I-N-G" teacher said, "at the end of a noun..."
became "please touch my titties you tease."
And "Look at the section-end quiz in your book"
became "Oh! Suck on my pussy, oh please!"
With the pulsing, the throbbing, the juicy wet squish
I could feel in my silky white panties
I looked down and saw with my very own eyes
That my nipples had formed little shanties!
They stuck out so far, despite padded bra
I knew in a flash I was in trouble
I tried to stuff down these emotions and throbbings
But the harder I tried I got double!
I shot up my hand, desperate look on my face,
Making signals I had to go number two.
With a nod of the head, and a twitch of the tit,
Teacher let me run out to the loo.
I rubbed myself silly, once safe in a stall,
Felt my nipples turn red, hair a-ruffle.
Felt a quiver go through to my nethermost place
Tugged my shirt with my teeth in a muffle.
"Make this last, or she'll come back to haunt me," I thought.
"Get this out of my system for good."
"I'm a straight little church girl, I'm saving myself
For my husband, myself, and the Lord."
But no matter the prayers, or the penitence beads,
No matter the Dear Mother Mary's,
No matter the years that have passed since that time
Or the number of Tom Dick and Harry's,
I will always want teacher so hard I can taste it
I'll yearn for her tits on my tongue
I'll beg for the moment I squirt to her pussy
And hear her say that I'm her favorite one.
