Old High School Teacher (PG)

How could this be happening?

I pushed, bucked, squirmed, strained...I planted my feet on the floor and
used all the strength in my legs, bridging my legs and back upward...but no
matter what I tried, how much energy I used, I couldn't unseat her.

Yes, her. Her. Mrs. Lewis. My 9th grade English teacher.

Not that I was in 9th grade any more. No, now I was a grown man.
Twenty-three years old! And not a little wimp...I'm 5'10", 170 pounds, and I'm
athletic to boot. But somehow this fifty-year old woman was sitting astride my
chest, her shins pressing into my biceps, and holding me helpless.

Perhaps I shouldn't have been such a jerk in high school. But come on, I
was a high school boy! Of course I was a jerk! It didn't occur to me that eight
years later I would meet Mrs. Lewis again in the gym. She looked so funny,
wearing a pink sports bra and tight pink spandex workout pants, that I couldn't
resist teasing once, just for old times. I was amused by her middle-aged (and
ample) breasts bouncing up and down in her thin pink bra, amused by her big rear
end jiggling inside her spandex.

She was not amused by my jeers. But she got a sly smile as she pulled her
blonde hair back into a pony-tale, showing her flabby triceps.

"Matt, there are a few moves maybe you can show me over in the yoga room.
Nobody else is in there. I need some help with my workout."

Why wouldn't I go to help her? But as soon as I entered the room she sank
her knee deep into my crotch, nearly lifting me off the floor.

"I've wanted to do that for years," she giggled as I sank to the ground.
Mrs. Lewis pulled me upward by my hair, until I was nearly upright, though
gasping for breath. She couldn't have been more than 5'3", so I towered over
her. Then she sank a small, hard fist into my solar plexus. "And I've definitely
wanted to to that," she said as I doubled over once more.

Mrs. Lewis grabbed my right wrist and twisted it hard into a hammerlock,
then sank her full weight onto my lower back. I squealed in pain until she
covered my mouth with her left hand. "Don't make a scene, Matt. I told you a
thousand times in the 9th grade to stop talking. Today, I'm going to shut you up
once and for all."

I kicked my legs in vain as she tortured my arm and pulled my neck back
painfully. Finally she released my wrist and stood up. I began to rise to my
feet, hoping to escape, when Mrs. Lewis easily tripped me. Standing astride my
torso, she let her full weight drop to my stomach. "Oooof!" I gasped as all the
air rushed out of me.

I was in no position to resist as Mrs. Lewis slid forward onto my chest,
her fat bottom on my chest, and pinned my arms down with her shins. I tried to
push her off but she grasped my wrists and forced them slowly to the floor. I
saw the look of victory, of vindication, of vengeance in her eyes as she watched
me squirm helplessly beneath her.

All I could do now was stare at her dangling cleavage, her lipsticked grin,
and regret that I had been such a jerk in her class in high school.