Mrs. Peterson Strip Math

Buyer

---

Disclaimer: This story is a fictional work created for entertainment purposes. The characters, names, events, and circumstances described are not intended to represent any real person or situation. Any resemblance to actual individuals or events is purely coincidental.

My favorite teacher at college was my math teacher, Mrs. Peterson. She was in her late thirties, a married mom, but absolutely stunning. Blonde hair, a pretty face dotted with delicate freckles, about 5 '7”, with a toned athletic body, a thick, firm ass that begged to be grabbed, and delightfully pert 36C breasts. She had a soft, charming accent from recently moving to London from Cheshire with her family.

Like most teachers, she usually dressed casually, but nothing could hide that hot body. I wasn’t great at math, and since it was my last class of the day, I spent most of the period staring at her, lost in filthy fantasies. She didn’t wear skirts often, but when she did, I’d try to sneak glances up her long green skirt while she sat on the edge of her desk. Sometimes I was rewarded with the sight of her skimpy thong. I loved watching her ass jiggle as she wrote on the board, but my eyes were usually glued to her tits — especially when she wore tight tops that showed the outline of her bra.

Our class was a handful, but she handled us well. Fifteen students — nine boys and six girls. Most of us guys were weak at math but dreamed of working in finance, and a few were constantly misbehaving.

Early in the year, Mrs. Peterson was strict, but once we got used to her rules, she relaxed and even became playfully friendly. Still, we were a rowdy, horny bunch, and she started tolerating some of our minor antics. With a hot, big-titted teacher at the front, the atmosphere was often thick with sexual tension. Some of the boys made suggestive comments, and Mrs. Peterson didn’t shut them down. She’d even fire back with her own flirty little innuendos, especially on days when the girls hadn’t arrived yet. The way she crossed her legs slowly or shifted her body sometimes felt like she was deliberately teasing us. I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination… but she always seemed to have a little smile when she caught us staring. The problem was that most of us boys were still failing.

One day near the end of the first semester, she sent the girls to the library and kept all nine of us behind. She gave a serious speech about how many of us were at risk of failing and how badly it reflected on her. Then her tone softened. “What can I do to motivate you boys to really work hard these last few weeks?” From the back, Charlie mumbled just loud enough for everyone to hear: “Show us your titties.” There was a beat of silence, then nervous laughter.

Mrs. Peterson stared at us with a deadpan expression at first… then a wicked little smile slowly spread across her face. “If I did, would you study harder?” she asked, her voice dropping slightly. “I'd even study for that!” Jack blurted out. We all laughed. Mrs. Peterson sat on the edge of her desk, deliberately hiking her skirt high up her smooth thighs. “Okay, Charlie,” she said, eyes sparkling with excitement. “I’ll give you that opportunity. In one week, I’ll give you boys an oral exam on Chapter Twelve. For every correct answer, I’ll remove one article of clothing. Kind of a Strip Math game.” We were stunned. “Yeah, right,” Charlie scoffed. “Charlie, I promise,” she said, biting her lip. “I’ll wear exactly this outfit. I’m wearing eight pieces of clothing today. If eight of you get your question right, I’ll be completely naked in front of you. But you have to keep this absolutely secret. Deal?” “Deal!” we all said eagerly.

For the next week, we studied like our lives depended on it. We helped each other, quizzed each other, and actually learned the material. None of us fully believed she’d go through with it… but we desperately wanted her to.

The following week, Mrs. Peterson sent the girls off with worksheets and locked the classroom door. She’d even covered the windows with paper. She was wearing the exact same green skirt and white jumper. “Ready, boys?” she asked, her voice already breathy with anticipation.

She started with Brian. He got his answer right. With a thrilled smile, Mrs. Peterson lifted her leg, slipped off her right shoe, and dropped it theatrically. Her cheeks were already flushed. Mark got his right too. She kicked off the other shoe, clearly enjoying herself. Ivan nailed his question. Mrs. Peterson grinned, hiked her skirt almost to her waist, and slowly wiggled her slip down her legs, stepping out of it with a little wiggle of her hips. Greg got his wrong. Even Mrs. Peterson looked genuinely disappointed. I got mine right. She hiked her skirt high again, showing off her tights over a tiny white thong, then peeled the tights down her thick ass and long legs, never breaking eye contact with us. Charlie got his right. Mrs. Peterson gave us the dirtiest grin I’d ever seen. She pulled her jumper out of her skirt, lifted it over her head, and dropped it. Her lacy white bra came into view, her full tits spilling over the cups. She stood tall, hands on her hips, proudly showing off as we stared. Colin got his right. She sat on the desk, leaning forward to give us a deep view of her cleavage, smiling the whole time like she was loving every second of our attention. Then she stood, unzipped her skirt, and slid it down. Her tiny white thong was revealed — stretched tight over her pussy mound, already showing a visible wet spot. Kevin got his right after she gave him extra time. While he worked, she strutted up and down the aisles in just her bra and thong, ass cheeks jiggling, clearly getting off on how we devoured her with our eyes. When she passed me, she paused, letting me stare at the soaked crotch of her thong up close. She was breathing heavier now, visibly aroused. When Kevin answered correctly, she reached back, arched her back dramatically, and unhooked her bra. She teased us, slowly sliding the straps down, then let it fall. Her beautiful pert tits spilled out, pink nipples rock-hard. She shook them proudly, biting her lip and giggling as they bounced. Steve was last. As she wrote on the board topless, her tits jiggling with every movement, she kept glancing back at us with pure lust in her eyes. When Steve got it right, she cheered, “Woo hoo!” and shook her tits wildly. Then she turned around, bent over, and slowly peeled her soaked thong down her ass. Her glistening pink pussy and tight little asshole were fully exposed. She turned back around, legs slightly spread, smiling with pure excitement. Mrs. Peterson leaned back against her desk, completely naked, legs parted, her wet pussy visibly dripping. Her face was flushed with arousal. “I’m so proud of you boys… and honestly? I’m so fucking turned on right now,” she admitted, voice husky. “Do any of you want to feel me? Come on… it’s okay.”

We practically rushed her. Steve and Charlie grabbed her tits first. I took the other. She moaned loudly as we squeezed and played with them. “You don’t have to be gentle,” she gasped. “I like it rough.” Her breathing was ragged, her nipples diamond-hard. Charlie slid three fingers into her soaking cunt. She cried out in pleasure, grinding against his hand. Then she looked straight at me, eyes glazed with lust. “Oh, Jason… put it in. Fuck me.” I stepped between her spread legs. She grabbed my throbbing cock and rubbed the head up and down her slippery slit before pulling me inside her. She was incredibly hot and wet. I sank balls-deep in one thrust and started fucking her hard on the desk while she stroked Steve and Charlie’s cocks. She was moaning like crazy, tits bouncing wildly, clearly loving every second. She sucked Steve’s cock eagerly while I pounded her pussy. When I came deep inside her, she screamed and came hard, her walls clamping around me.

The rest of the afternoon turned into a complete free-for-all. She took every one of us — getting fucked, sucking cock, getting her tits covered in cum, and loving every filthy second of it. By the time we finished, she was a sweaty, cum-covered mess… and still smiling with pure satisfaction. Mrs. Peterson kept her promise. As long as we kept studying hard, she kept rewarding us for the rest of the year. Our grades skyrocketed, and none of us ever told a soul.

---

Join us for free and start your journey!

---

---

Interested in contributing to our awesome community blog? Why not get in touch with our friendly team?

---

Comments

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

More From Our Blog

---

Join for FREE today! See our video