My eleventh grade English teacher was a short, full figured woman of 23 in her first year as a full fledged teacher. She had a classic hour glass figure, huge tits and a very full butt with wider than average hips. She was not the type that I was attracted to. I liked ‘em tall, lean and hard. Interestingly, her waist was tiny.
Martha was not beautiful, but she had a sexy, flirting smile that hinted at nasty. I was a straight ‘A’ student and she took an early interest in me and my college pursuits. I never had any thoughts about fucking her. She was a teacher, she wasn’t my type, and I certainly never felt that an opportunity would present itself.
At the end of the school year, just following my eighteenth birthday, my folks invited her to spend the weekend at our farm. My dad taught at the same HS and knew her from school. Her apartment lease was up; she was taking a summer job somewhere else and needed a place to stay for a few days.
My dad was working on his Doctorate and was gone that weekend. He was putting the final touches on his dissertation and was locked in a library at the University a couple of hours away. Martha took over the upstairs guest bedroom, sharing a bathroom with me. It was an odd arrangement; I actually had to go through her room at the top of the stairs to get to the bathroom. My parents slept downstairs.
As was the custom, I would give her a tour of the three hundred acre farm, to include the barns and other out buildings. I suggested that we could take a long hike the next morning to see the entire spread, which had numerous creeks and streams and pristine old growth forests. Having grown up in the city, she had never been in a barn, or visited a working farm.
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