There’s a new PE teacher at school. She’s only a girl and not much older than the sixth-formers.
She’s tall and buxom with long muscular legs that go all the way up. It’s summer, so they are constantly on display. All the boys in Year 10 fancy her.
I’m not in her gym class but I see her every day. I must talk to her, so I hang around the stairwell to the teachers’ staff room and accidentally on purpose bump into her.
I gabble some apology and she rewards me with a dazzling smile showing white, even teeth. Her blue eyes sparkle. She is a goddess. She giggles – yes, giggles – and says it’s quite alright. It’s too much for me to take: I despair. I’m in love. Does she love me? Could such a thing ever be possible?
Next playtime, I’m behind the gym block. It’s out of bounds to pupils so I go to smoke a cigarette. I’m too engrossed in my own misery to see her approach. She growls – her sunny smile nowhere to be seen. ‘Smoking,’ she barks. ‘You are a naughty little boy,’ she grabs me by the ear and drags me into the gym office. Then, she sits on a wooden chair, opens her legs, and pulls me across her knee and spanks me hard.
That is when I feel the shudder. My wife gets out of bed and makes for the bathroom. I am left wondering how I will explain the damp patch.
Words: Richard Rooney
Illustration: A.I.
Flash Fiction 250
Flash Fiction 250 