Cuckquean Story

“Are you sure about this? Like, really, really sure?”  I was a bit nervous, standing at the door, fidgeting with my hands.   “Babe, listen. I suggested this to begin with. I found her. I set this whole evening up. If I didn’t want to do this, I had a dozen different opportunities to put a stop to it.”   My wife stood on the other side of the room, in a short black pencil skirt and tight, black blazer. Her hair was pulled straight back into a bun, and she had cat eye glasses framing her dazzling green eyes. She stood straight and tall, pushing out her considerable bust. If I didn’t know any better, I would think the entire shirt was going to burst at any moment. My god she was hot.   I was dressed in a rather loose fitting pair of suit pants and a simple, white collared shirt. She picked out my outfit, I think to create such a sharp contrast. She was a powerful queen of business, and I was just some guy next to her.   “I know, Maris, I know, but still. If at any point you want me to-” I was cut off by the sound of the doorbell. My tongue caught in my throat, and I started to sweat.   “Holy shit, Kyle, listen: I want this to happen. Now, just open the goddamn door so we can get this started.”   I slowly opened the door, trying to keep my arms steady. Standing in the doorway was a smaller woman, dressed in a plaid skirt and white button up blouse. The top three buttons were undone, giving me just the hint of black satin bra over a rather... modest bust.  My wife leaned over to me, and whispered “Remember, you’re a teacher. Start at level 4 and work up to 6.”  I cleared my throat, suddenly full of confidence. I knew what level 4 meant, and I think that helped ground me. I could do this.  “Great to see you, Ms...”   “Samantha” The small woman said in a small voice, her body visibly shaking.   “Ms. Samatha! Now, I hear you have been struggling with your classes, and need me to help...” I placed a hand on Samantha’s shoulder, “boost your grades. Is that right?”  “Oh yes,” Samantha spoke in a squeaky, and forced, falsetto, “I just can’t get the hang of things. Maybe you can help me...” she traced my chest with her small, delicate finger, “with the hard stuff.”  “Good. Now, come sit down,” I gestured to the small dining set, with some paper and pens prepared, “I want to see what it is you are willing to do.”  We both sat down, Maris hovering nearby, watching our every move. I could see her chest rising up and down, the fabric of her shirt stretching with her heaving breaths.   “I’m going to write down some questions, and you tell me what you think the answer is. Feel free to take all the time you want, because you don’t want to get anything wrong.”  “Gee Mr. Wilson, are you sure you can help me? Every other teacher has said I just don’t get it.” Samantha whimpered, with large puppy-dog eyes.  “We’ll see. If not, then all that’s needed is some one on one... instruction. Now, first, answer this question.” I picked up a pen and quickly wrote 2x + 4 = 7.  “Hmmmm...” Samantha made an obvious thinking face, scrunching up her forehead, “I think it’s this...” She wrote down 2x = 7 - 4, then 2x = 3, and x = 1.5,  “Good! Very good!” I tousled her hair, “See, it’s not that hard! Now, how about this?” I wrote 3√25 on the paper and slid it over. I saw Samantha glance over the sheet, and sneakily look at Maris.   “Oh, this is easy, I remember this from yesterday!” Samantha seemed almost excited as she scribbled down 3x4 and then 12.   Beaming, she looked at me for approval, only to see my downcast eyes. “I’m sorry, Samantha, that is wrong.” I heard some fabric moving behind me.   She was shocked, scared, frightened, and a bit overselling the whole thing. None-the-less, I bent her over my lap and smacked her butt, the thin skirt offering no padding whatsoever. She squealed in pain at the sharp impact, tears welling up on the corners of her mouth.   “Try this one,” I said, a bit sterner, and wrote a small cube, with the sides labelled 3, 7, and X, then wrote v = 84 above the cube. “Find X.”  “Hrmmm...” Samantha again made a big show of thinking, and quickly wrote down the answer 4. “Is this right?”  “Yes, it is!” I said with a large smile, leaning in to give her a hug. But, after a second, my expression fell, “But you didn’t show your work. I bet you just guessed, and it just so happened to be correct.”  Bending her over my lap again, I gave her a harder smack. And another one. She was squirming on my lap, and I could hear more fabric rustling behind my head. There was a faint panting noise behind my ear. Encouraged by that, I lifted Samatha’s skirt, exposing her complete lack of underwear.  “Is this how you wear your uniform?” I growled with disdain, then shoved a finger in her pussy, “And look how wet you are! Do you get sexually excited at the thought of being wrong, you dumb slut?” 

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