EXTRACT FOR
A Shooter Double: Teacher Learns Her Lesson & Jenny
(Author Unknown)

TEACHER LEARNS HER LESSON - EXTRACT



CHAPTER ONE

    

    I have a driving need to tell this story. I've felt the need to tell it for a long time, but could not summons up the courage until now. I'll start by telling you about myself. I'm  Abby Collins. I was born Abigail Greene in a small middle American town. Growing up in Smallville, USA was wonderful. 

    As far as I know there was no reason for the absents of blacks in my hometown.  There just wasn't anything to attract them I guess. My point is I grew up without any interaction with blacks. Believe it or not, I saw my first real live black person up close and personal when I went to a small community college nearby. There were maybe half a dozen black students there. The black students mostly kept to themselves so there was not much interaction with them. 

    I got a degree from that college and decided  I wanted to be a teacher. My degree wasn't in that field so I went back to school at a large state university. There were  a lot of blacks there, but again I didn't have much to do with them. It wasn't some ingrained prejudice, it just didn't happen.

    At the university I met, fell in love with and married a great guy. A professor at the university as a matter of fact. John was several years my senior. That marriage went into the ditch after only three years. It's amazing in retrospect that it took so long to discover that we had nothing in common.

    I wasn't a virgin when John and I got married, but I was rather inexperienced in sexual matters. My previous experiences were mostly the backseat fumbling category. I discovered that I liked sex with John and he taught me a lot. As it turned out I discovered he taught a lot of young women about sex. John had a lot of trouble keeping his pecker in his pants. 

    After John and I divorced, I got a job  teaching in a high school not many miles from my hometown. There I met, fell in love, and married again. That time was for real, of that I was sure. My new husband was also several years older than I. Twelve years older as a matter of fact. Albert Collins was a high school guidance counselor at my school. The marriage was real for nearly nine years until I had to have a radical hysterectomy. Then it all changed for both Albert and me. 

    While I was recovering from the operation Albert jumped the fence and had an affair. I could have forgiven him his infidelity, but he didn't seem to care if I forgave him or not. I think, in his mind, that the hysterectomy had rendered me less than a real woman. He never said so in words, but I think it's the basis for his actions. Even after I recovered and returned to teaching Albert continued to be unfaithful.  I suppose that's where my story really starts.

    I was faced with a decision. Ignore his actions and continue on with my life or go through another divorce. I took the cowards way out. I simply ignored his affairs and pressed on.

    Then Thomas Cook entered the picture. Thomas Cook came to my school in the fall as a substitute teacher and assistant football coach.  Tom had to be noticed because he is huge. Six and a half feet tall, with a loud booming laugh. The fact that he is black just added to the...I don't know exactly how to describe it.  Attraction, interest, appeal? Maybe it was because Tom Cook was almost the exact opposite of Albert. As a matter of policy, substitute teachers are assigned to a regular full time teacher the first term of school. The idea is to get them used to policies, and procedures. By luck of the draw I was assigned to Thomas Cook as his temporary mentor. 

    I'll admit that there was something there and it struck me on our first meeting. When he took my relatively small hand in his huge one I felt a tingle. I dismissed it as just something that happened because he was the first black person that I had ever touched.  That wasn't it entirely because I felt the same tingle every time I got near him. I did anything to encourage Tom because I wasn't sure about anything. I knew he was single, but I also knew I wasn't. One adulterer in the family was enough, or so I thought. 

    One afternoon I had some papers for Tom and I took they to the Gym to give them to him  That was how James Berry came into the mix. Tom and James were friends and I met James when I delivered the papers. James and Tom were very much alike. Both big, both black. The only initial difference was that James was quieter, more reserved than Tom. Tom introduced me to his friend and I learned that James was a businessman who owned several local businesses. After a few minutes of small talk, I concluded my business and left the two big black men. I was nearly out of the gym when I realized I had forgotten to inform Tom about a teachers meeting the next morning. I turned and started back. When I got to the door of the coaches offices I overheard them talking and when it dawned on me they were discussing me I stopped and unashamedly eavesdropped. 

    "Man, that is one nice looking woman," James said. "Great tits and ass. Got a hot fuckin' body on her."

    "Fuckin' fine looking woman," Tom agreed. "Gives me a hard-on every time I get around her. I'd give anything to cram my cock in her little white snatch and fuck her." I stood absolutely still, my heart pounding and my face aflame. Part of me wanted to charge in and give them a piece of my mind. That other part of me felt all warm and glowing because a man, two men actually, found me attractive. The very idea that any man found me desirable was an alien feeling for me. 

    "You got a plan of attack, yet?" I heard James inquire.

    "Naw, not yet, but I'd sure like to spread her legs and get some of that pussy," Tom answered. "She ain't got any idea what all I'd like to do to her."

    "I think I'd have to eat her cunt first," James offered. "She's definitely table grade."

    Thomas Cook laughed, "Yeah, brings up that old question don't it? Eat up your fuckin' or fuck up your eating."

    "I'd have to do both," James said with a chuckle. It dawned on me that their voices were becoming louder because they were approaching my position. I turned and  ran from the gym. 

    I thought about their conversation all the way home. I was both disgusted and excited in equal parts. It was somewhat of a surprise when I discovered that I was wet. The crude talk between the two men had caused my pussy to become moist. I realized that it hadn't happened for a long time. Sex between Albert and I had dwindled and finally dried up to the occasional hurried groping once every couple of  months or so. Albert had other outlets for his sex drive, and I didn't have a sex drive. Or so I thought.

    I called Thomas Cook and got his voice mail. I left a message telling him about the early morning teacher's meeting. Just hearing his voice caused me to become even wetter than I was.  

    I couldn't hardly sleep that night because of the conversation I had overheard. I played and replayed it over and over in my mind. The idea that not one, but two men wanted me was hard to get a handle on. Finally sometime after midnight I got up and went to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the full length mirror. I wanted to see what had attracted Tom and James to me.

    Thirty four years old, natural blonde, figure still pretty good. My thirty-eight C cup breasts didn't sag very much. Nipples still perked up when stroked. I'm pale because I don't get a lot of sun. It dawned on me that I didn't even own a swimsuit any longer. I observed that my muscles could stand some toning and I resolved to get myself in better shape. I also noticed that with the exception of a few minor wrinkles and laugh lines I still would be considered pretty.  While standing there examining myself I suddenly got very angry. Angry at Albert and at myself. I was an attractive vibrant woman and I deserved more than I was getting. I started to go to Albert's room and demand he have sex with me, but I stopped before I even got out of the bathroom. No, that wasn't what I wanted. Not yet anyway. I had some things to do first.

    

***

    

    On the way to school the next morning I stopped at a gym and signed up. I also signed up for their tanning bed service. I stopped at a fancy boutique and bought myself a daring bikini. That last stop caused me to be a few minutes late for the meeting. I took the only seat available which was next to Thomas Cook.

    "Hey, Abby," Tom whispered, "Just show up when you can if you can't make it on time." For some unexplained reason that caused me to giggle. I'm not a giggler so it surprised me. It caused some of the other teachers to turn and stare at me.

    Not having children and a husband that came and went as he saw fit, left me with a lot of free time. I went to the gym right after school and worked out for a while. That made me so sore I could hardly move the next morning. I almost gave up on exercising as a bad idea, but I didn't. My natural stubbornness saw me through. Fortunately it got easier after the first few weeks. In fact after the first month I got so that I looked forward to going to the gym.

    Frankly my effort didn't appear to be doing anything for me that I could see. It wasn't until one of the teachers mentioned that I looked good that I noticed anything. In fact several teachers mentioned I seemed to have more spring in my step and that I had a healthy glow. Everybody noticed except for Albert. If he did notice, he didn't say anything to me.

    I assumed the glow came from the tan I was acquiring. I took it very slow in the tanning bed because being blonde I burn easy. I also tan nicely and when I looked in my bathroom mirror again I could see definite tan lines.  Abby Collins was beginning to look good.

    Over Christmas break I spent even more time in the gym. By that time I had a finely toned body. I didn't want a muscle builders body. I just wanted to look and feel good. I spent a lot of the gym time helping other women get in shape. It felt good to be able to help someone else.

    During all that time Thomas, not needing a mentor any longer, still called me nearly every day with some question. Because I'm not dim-witted I knew he was making an effort to keep contact with me. When we met he was always friendly and never even got close to being out of line.  A fact I both appreciated and resented. I wanted to yell at him that I knew he wanted some of my pussy.

    One day as spring was trying to make an appearance, I was walking from one building to the administrative offices when Thomas caught up with me.

    "Isn't this a great day?" he asked. I told him it was a very great day. "So what does Abby Collins do to unwind?" I told him I went to the gym and worked out. "That a good way to unwind," he said. "I do it myself sometimes. I was wondering if you would like to join me for a drink some time after work." I formed a 'no' in my mind, but found my mouth apparently had other ideas.

    "Sure, I'd love to," my mouth said. "Say where and when."  Abby Collins, what in hell are you doing?', I thought to myself. 'Are you out of your ever-lovin' mind'?

    "Great," Tom said in his booming voice. "The Shamrock club, today at five o'clock. See you there." He peeled away and took another sidewalk away from me before I could undo what I had done.

    The Shamrock Club, where I had not intended on being, was a nice little lounge catering to the young, the restless, and the up and coming from that part of the city.  I told myself I only came to tell Tom in person that this couldn't happen. At least that's what I told myself. Didn't I, at least,  owe him the courtesy of telling him in person?

    It never fails to surprise me the bullshit we can try to sell ourselves. Deep down I knew that I was there because I wanted to spend some time with the big black man. I told myself that at least he found me attractive and even desirable. I saw Tom sitting at a table toward the back. He got up as I approached him.

    "Name your poison," he said when I was seated. His big grin was infectious and I smiled back at him. He  laughed out loud when I told him I wanted a beer. I like beer. I prefer it over any other alcoholic beverage. Maybe it's not lady-like, but one could make a pretty good case that meeting a man who is not your husband for drinks isn't either.

    Over our beer I found myself giving Thomas Cook my life story. Over the third round and without realizing it, I even told him about Albert's cheating on me.

    "Man's a fool," Tom said shaking his head. "Out looking for a hot dog when he's got steak at home. Can't figure some people."

    "Thank you, kind sir," I said, realizing my tongue  was a little thick. "I'm assuming 'steak' was a compliment." He assured me that he certainly meant it as a compliment. I asked him why there wasn't a wife in his life.

    "Had one," he said. "Didn't work out. She wanted me to use my education to make a lot of money. I wanted to coach football and teach and we know there isn't any money there. When she figured out I was going to coach and teach she hauled ass out of town and out of my life.  I took a few coaching jobs here and there and I finally got here where you are."  

    Such a simple statement and yet it made my chest swell. I realized that it was partially the beer and partly the fact I was lonely and feeling neglected, but I was basking in his attention. When he suggested that we go to his place I didn't act coy or even hesitant. I said yes and followed him to his apartment. I went with him fully aware that we would have sex. I didn't even try to kid myself.

    To say that the sex was great would be an understatement. Tom proved to be an excellent lover and that coupled with the illicit act of sex with a man of another race made it all the better. In one two hour period he caused me to reach more orgasms than I had experienced in the previous several years total. By the time I got home I was still tingling and flushed from  the intense sex. My pussy felt alive useful, and real. 

    Albert was watching the TV and he didn't hardly look up when I entered. I had to wonder why he couldn't see that I had a well fucked look about me. I doubted that he would have noticed if I had arrived naked with sperm dripping from by body. At that moment I realized that there was no love between us any longer. I had been kidding myself on that. Albert and were simply sharing a house.  That thought made me sad, but the sadness quickly turned into indignation.  Fuck him and the horse he rode in on.