Me and Mrs. Madison’s private time at school

I stood in front of Mrs. Madison’s room door, hesitating.

I had asked her if I could stop by after the evening orientation, and find out what I’d missed at the group meeting. I was the only student from our team who had entered both a team and individual event and advanced to the national level competition in both. Now the time issues that arose from competing twice were starting to catch up with me.

It was after 10:00pm. The other two chaperones had rooms in the same hall as the team, but Mrs. Madison had gotten stuck on the other side of the common area. I had never anticipated I would be so late getting out of my meeting – or I wouldn’t have dreamed of asking to come over this late. We had three adult coaches for our group, two teachers, and one parent. I guess I could have asked any of them for help, but hey, it was Mrs. Madison – the best looking teacher at Heritage High.

At least the light in her room was still on. I guess it wasn’t too late. So I got up the nerve and knocked.

“Just a second.” I heard her voice softly through the door. Then the curtain beside the door pulled back a bit, and I saw her peer out at me. She released the curtain, but didn’t open the door right away. Then she opened it just a few inches, speaking to me through the door crack.

“It’s a little late. I thought you’d changed your mind.” She said with a bit of irritation in her voice.

“I’m so sorry. I swear the meeting just got over. I hurried over here as fast as I could.” I explained. I had stopped long enough to change out of my stinking clothes, throwing on sweat pants and a t-shirt.

She seemed to think about it a second, just standing there, looking up at me.

I, on the other hand, tried to just look repentant, but I couldn’t help but let my eyes slowly wander down. She had a fluffy white bathrobe wrapped tightly around herself, with bare legs and feet poking out the bottom. She usually dressed pretty conservatively for class, but nothing could really hide her knockout body. Even this big bulky robe, tied tightly at the waist, only emphasized her hourglass figure.

“Alright, Josh. I can give you about 15 minutes. Let’s just go over the instructions as quickly as possible, and get your forms filled out.”

The forms were the heart of the issue. Each team member had to have the forms filled out and countersigned by a coach. But I was competing at 8:15 am in the morning, then had to rush to the team competition, halfway across campus. I had missed the group orientation when everyone normally did their paperwork, I had been completing my individual competition papers. Now I had to get my group papers done before I competed in the morning.

We had been late arriving at the competition, because of a flat tire on the mini-bus. We’d gone to put the spare on, and found out the spare was flat. Calling AAA, getting our flat temporarily fixed, then buying a tire in Memphis put us way behind schedule. We were all exhausted and frazzled and really looking forward to some rest. I imagine Mrs. Madison was more worn out than most, she’d spent the majority of the time driving, much of it in the rain and dark. I was feeling a bit guilty already.

Mrs. Madison opened the door and gestured to me. I looked around her tiny room. We were all in campus housing, and the rooms were tiny. Each room wasn’t much more than 10 feet by 15 feet, with a single twin bed, and a small desk and chair. She gestured toward the desk.

“The papers are there, along with directions. Start filling them out, and let me know if you have any questions.”

I sat at the table, my back to her, and started filling in the 2-page form. I heard a rustle behind me, and my eyes looked up into the mirror on the wall. Mrs. Madison had removed her robe and was easing under the covers, with the blankets pulled up high, almost to her chin. She had a book in her hand.

My teenage imagination started to run wild, and I had trouble breathing. I was instantly hard in my sweats, and knew it would be a while before I could turn around and face her. The tent I was pitching would be pretty obvious.

The first page was pretty easy, but the second question on the second page threw me for a loop. I decided to skip over it for the moment, and continue filling out the form, between lascivious thoughts of what I’d really like to be doing, here, in Mrs. Madison’s room. When I completed all but that one question, I reread it yet another time, then read the directions again.

I looked up and saw that Mrs. Madison was reading her book, and was wearing glasses. I hadn’t even known she owned glasses. While I looked at her, she suddenly glanced up over the book, and caught my eyes. She held my gaze for a moment then raised her eyebrows.

“I’m not sure I know what to answer for this question.” I explained.

“Bring it here,” she said, with a sigh of exasperation.

I stood up and was immediately aware that my trouser buddy was still standing tall. I held the papers in front of me and walked a few steps over to her. I stood beside her, not knowing what to do. She reached out for the papers, so I passed them to her, nearly dying of embarrassment, and quickly crossed my hands in front of my crotch. She rolled her eyes as she took them, then settled back to read the question. I saw a puzzled look on her face.

“I thought at first they were talking about the first entry, but then I thought it might be more likely they’re asking about our first competition.” I explained. At my words she reread the question again, then set the paper down.

“Josh, grab that pile of papers on the end of the desk and bring them here, would you?” She pointed out a stack of paper sitting on a manila folder which I dutifully retrieved. I was more embarrassed than ever when I passed them to her, once again exposing my raging hardon, made even more apparent by a wet spot the size of a silver dollar, at the crest of the tent.

She flipped through a couple of pages, pausing here and there, looking for more information. After a minute or so she saw I was still standing there, trying to avoid being obvious as I did my best to look down at her top. She had a lot going for her up there, and the sheer slip she was wearing as a nightshirt left little to the imagination. She pulled her feet up under the covers, leaving some more room on the bed.

“Sit.” She said, Then a few seconds later, “You’re right, this could be taken both ways.”

She turned sideways on the bed, pulling most of her body out from under the covers. She was holding one of the pages out under the lamp sitting on the bedside table. It had a smaller font than most, and was a bad photocopy. She peered at it, through her reading glasses. I had no idea that people in their 20’s even needed reading glasses.

“I took my contacts out already,” she explained, “and I can barely see through these old glasses. I need to get the prescription updated. Can you make out what this paragraph says?” She asked, pointing to a paragraph on the page, but still holding it under the light.

I slid up next to her, my leg pressing against hers, as I leaned over. I slowly read the paragraph out loud, verbatim, not sure why it mattered.

“Hmm, that’s what I thought.” She flipped over to another page, and pointed again, “How about here?”

I leaned even closer, partially across her body, my shoulder touching hers, and this time I had to lean close, as I read the text on an image of a completed entry.

“Shit.” She mumbled. I’d never heard her say a curse word. Not the perfect and oh-so-proper Mrs. Madison. Not even a “gosh” or “heck”. She leaned back in the bed, still sitting sideways, and let her head loll back, sighing. “I think we filled out every form wrong. This could have been a disaster.”

We were a first year team, and really didn’t have much experience at this kind of stuff. First year teams rarely went to State, and never went to Nationals, but here we were. And we were way over our heads.

“Be a dear, and grab me a pencil out of the desk, ok?” She asked, sitting more upright and criss-crossing her legs, Indian style, with the manila envelope in her lap. Her top barely reached her upper thighs. That damn manila envelope was the only thing between me and that mysterious “V” between her legs.

I grabbed the pencil, and sat next to her again.

“I’m certain they’re asking about our first competition. We’re going to have to rewrite these answers. You remember each of the roles, right?”

“After 5 long months or repetition? I hope so.” I told her.

She passed me a couple of the completed forms, and then went to work erasing one of the answers. She lifted the pile on her lap to blow off the eraser crumbs, so as not to get them in the bed. When she leaned over I caught my breath. I could see her panties which had been covered by the papers, and they fit her tightly, outlining unimaginable mounds of delight. Her breasts stuck straight out, and I could see that her nipples were hard, poking through the silky material. I quickly went back to my work, correcting Marcia’s form.

“I can’t write like her.” I explained stopping.

Mrs. Madison looked over and realized the problem. “Hold up a minute.” Now she sorted through the papers, pulling out the three guys from the 4 girls. “You fill out these, and I’ll fill out the girls,” she explained. “Try to write something similar but a little sloppy. It’ll have to do.”

I had filled in my own form, and was working on Kyle’s when Mrs. Madison chuckled. “Listen to this,” she said, then started reading Alicia’s form. Alicia was such a ditz. We both ended up laughing harder and harder, leaning into each other so we could read the form together.

Me and Mrs. Madison’s private time at school will continue in the next page.

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