That night after dinner, she rang their doorbell and Tommy's father answered it.

"Hello, Miss Turner," he greeted, remembering her from some of their previous meetings. "Come on in."

"Is Tommy home?" she asked when she entered the room.

"I'm afraid not. He's spending the night at his cousin's house. Is there a problem?"

When she'd finished telling him all about the problem, he just stood staring at her with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Well," he finally remarked. "What do you want me to do about it, chop his prick off?"

"Nothing that drastic," Wanda said, amused by his unexpected remark.

"I'm afraid he's just a chip off the old block," sighed the man. "I couldn't keep my hands off the girls when I was his age."

"I'm sure you couldn't," she commented, strangely attracted to the bold man.

"And, looking at you, I'll bet you wouldn't have tattled to the teacher if a kid tried to get into your pants when you were a girl."

"You're right," she agreed, starting to feel hot and itchy between her legs as she stared at the handsome man. "I would probably have encouraged him."

"I'd already had my first piece of ass when I was Tommy's age," he mused.

"So did I. I was a hot assed bitch when I was a kid."

"And I'll bet you still are," he said, resting his hands on her shoulders.

"Why don't you find out for yourself?" she whispered, suddenly wanting the man to fuck her.

Giving the pretty teacher a deep, passionate kiss, he slid his hands up under her skirt and pulled her body tightly against him.

"God, Miss Turner," he panted. "You're so beautiful."

"Thank you," she whispered. "But if you're gonna fuck me, I think you should start calling me Wanda."