Margaret Dowler Is A Milf

Here is the story of Margaret Dowler. Please click on the links at the bottom of the page to view any part of this story.

Margaret Dowler stared at the school room clock over the shoulder of the student standing before her desk. It was late and she should have left school already to prepare for a supper date. But, as usual, she hadn't thought things out in advance and had again landed herself in an uncomfortable spot.
"Let me get this straight," John Stephan addressed the attractive but no longer young blonde teacher. "You want me to hang around after school sometimes and you want to make it with me. And if I do it you're promising that I'll get promoted."

The last statement was more like a question, showing Margaret that she had not been fully understood. She remembered all the times John had stared at her from the back row of the room, working her body up and down with his young, intense eyes. She was one hell of a milf. The boy wanted her certainly, but he was too suspicious and too hesitant in taking advantage of what should have been an irresistible proposition.

"You see, John," she continued, not meeting the boy's narrowed blue eyes, "I'm very concerned with your academic performance. You don't come to class prepared, you don't pay attention, yet you should be a good student. I want to help you, John. If we work together, I know you'll be able to pass."
Margaret allowed herself to look at her student as ho mulled over the offer. John was tall for an eighteen year old, slender but quite muscular. His blue eyes, short straight nose and flawless pale complexion combined in a face that was expressive, appealing and somewhat sensual without being classically handsome.
"I don't know, Missus Dowler," the boy mumbled. "I mean, about the school work part. I like you well enough the other way. But I got to pass that final examination and you don't have nothing to do with that, do you?"
"I can make sure you pass that too," Margaret answered, trying to hide her anger and impatience. "But I hope we won't have to cheat. You have a good mind, John, an exceptional intelligence. You could be a good student with my help, not just good enough to pass but to do very well in your studies."

It was a fact that John possessed all the requirements for scholastic success, verified by a series of standardized aptitude tests. Quite simply, the boy didn't care about his school work. Somebody had to take a personal interest in the lad even if that entailed a dangerous degree of emotional involvement.

Margaret struggled with herself for the next few minutes, trying not to blush under John's steady appraising gaze. The boy was looking her up and down as boldly as he had done during class, when he imagined she wasn't watching. His eyes stopped at Margaret's breasts, large and rounded under a tight silk blouse, slid down toward her narrow waist and flaring hips, then moved up again as the rim of the desk truncated his view.
Mrs. Dowler was all right, John figured, in a physical sense at least. She was probably closer to forty than to thirty, but her face was pretty and her body was the stuff of which adolescent fantasies are made, soft, rounded, full and voluptuous. There wasn't a boy in the school who didn't want to fuck her.

And she had come to him, John thought triumphantly, picking him out from all the others. There were rumors about Mrs. Dowler, stories of her past sexual escapades, but they were nothing to set store by. Every woman teacher, however old and unattractive, was a base on which to build such myths. All women could have been sluts in their day but she still had sex appeal and I wanted to fuck her senseless and get cum on those big tits of hers.