"Señor Michael," my college spanish teacher plopped my midterm on my desk. "See me after class." I turned to watch her hips sway as she walked down the aisle before turning back to my midterm, which had D- written at the top in angry red pen. I didn't pay much attention to the lesson; even with my scholarship, I had to work an overnight job to pay for food, gas and books, and this was one of those days where I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open. On top of that, her Spanish was more European than the little bit I’d picked up through my life - just different enough to confuse me a bit.
I was trying not to yawn as I stood in front of Señorita Alvarez's desk after class, fighting the urge to look down her blouse. She wasn't making it easy; the top two buttons were undone, enough to give me just a tempting glimpse of her deep brown cleavage.
"Señor Michael. I'm very concerned about your progress in this class. I can tell you work hard when you're here and awake, but you're missing for a third of the courses, and you haven't turned in a quarter of your homework. And your midterm? Mierda." Her thick eyebrows went up as if she was daring me to say something. "Are you trying to quit coffee? You can't seem to keep your eyes open half of the time. Or am I mistaken? ¿Me equivoco?”
“Uh, no. Look, I really need at least a C in this course-”
“At least a C! The only reason you didn’t get an F on your midterm is because I like you. Now tell me, what’s going on? ¿Que te está pasando?”
I told her the whole thing; I had a biology class after this one I wasn’t doing any better in, but I guessed I wouldn’t make it there as the whole story about my scholarship and still needing to work unfurled. By the time I was finished, Señorita Alvarez was frowning thoughtfully, tapping one finger on her chin.
“Well, Micheal, I feel for you. I’m preocupada porque it’s going to be very difficult for you to pass; that midterm was 25% of your grade. But if you really want to show me that you want to pass, and put in some extra time outside class, I think we can come to an acuerdo.” She opened a desk drawer and pulled out a double DVD case. “Here, watch the top one first. If you’re interested after watching the second one, me dices algo al respecto, ¿Está claro?.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, taking the DVDs. More work? I already had enough trouble attending class and finishing my homework. I said fuck it and went home for the day, meaning to take a nap before work, but the DVDs caught my interest and instead I popped them in. The first one was an almost two-hour documentary about Lucha Libre; it was in Spanish, and I had to turn the subtitles on pretty quick to follow it along. I figured she wanted me to write a report or something until I popped in the second disc. This was a training program showing how to execute wrestling moves, starting with simple strikes, moving through throws and suplexes, ending with submission moves, all narrated by a masked female wrestler named “La Diabla” and her male, uh, volunteer, I guess (the guy didn’t look too happy to be there once she started laying full-force wrestling moves and submissions on him). It was hard to tell with her horned mask on, but she looked a little familiar. I shook this thought off as I concentrated on absorbing the instructions.
Now I might be a D- student, but even I could figure out what I was being offered. I went for it; I really needed that grade boost, and rolling around with my MILFy Spanish teacher seemed like a nice bonus. Heck, even if she was just kicking my ass, it might be fun, and I thought I might have a bit of a chance; Señorita Alvarez, in addition to being old enough to be my mother, was almost a full foot shorter than me, 5’3” to my 5’11”; even with what I was guessing would be a considerable skill advantage, I didn’t rate my chances too bad.
I made sure to attend class the next day, and when I returned the DVDs and told her I was interested, Señorita Alvarez fixed me with a warm smile. She told me to keep the second DVD to study from and gave me a time and place to meet her, early next Friday evening in a gym not far from the campus. When I got there, I found my outfit waiting for me in the changing room - a very small white T-backed thong and a white and gold luchador mask. I put them on, worried about the mask cutting off my vision or making it hard to breathe, but the large eye holes actually didn’t affect my vision much, and the bottom front half of the mask was open, leaving my face exposed from the bottom of my nose to my mouth.
The thong turned out to be more of a problem; the little string of material in the back kept going up my crack, and I had picked it out of there three times on the way from the dressing room to the ring before giving up and deciding to just deal with it. Coming into the main room, I saw there was a full-sized ring with Mexican-flag colored ropes, the top green, middle white and bottom red; as I went up the ropes and onto the ring apron I froze, for the first time getting a good look at my Spanish teacher in her outfit.
Her mask was red with gold trim, and it didn't look like the ornate ones from the documentary that covered most of the face; it was in fact the horned La Diabla mask from the training feature. It only really covered up her eyes and nose, a narrow strap around the back of her head and chin keeping it in place. The back and top were otherwise open for her hair to fan out. In addition to this she had on a short red cape and high red boots, all edged in bright gold, and nothing else, the rest of her naked body on proud display.
“Señor Michael, mi fachero!” she waved. “You made it! ¡Estás aquí! Come on in!” Dumbfounded, I got between the ropes and walked up to her; he had her hand extended and I shook it, looking her up and down. Up close without her clothes, I could see she was still in pretty good shape; her tummy looked a little soft, but she had strong limbs. In particular her lower half looked very powerful; she had wide hips and massive, thick thighs, and I could only imagine the power she’d be able to channel through them if she got me in a scissors hold, one of the moves shown on the second DVD, making a note to try and stay out of that one. She was very curvy with a massive butt and large, natural tits, her big, dark nipples already hard. She had dark skin, although it looked a little lighter under the bright ring lights than the fluorescent in the classroom, and her black hair was in a stylish short cut, longer on the right side then the left, where it fell just past her jaw. Her dark eyes were fixed on me, a cryptic little smile on her lush lips.
“Now, the rules,” she started. “For showing up and wrestling me, I'll bump you up to that C you wanted so badly. If you can last over a half hour with me, I'll make it a C+. If you can someterme o palmear la lona, I'll grant you a B. ¿Entendido?" I nodded, hoping she hadn't noticed I was hard already, but the tent I was pitching in my tiny little thong made it pretty obvious. She was gracious enough not to say anything about it. "Well, are you ready to empezar la lucha?”
“Yeah.”
“¡En Español, por favor!”
“Si.”
We both backed up about halfway across the ring and took up fighting stances. She offered up a test of strength, and I figured with my age and height advantages I'd have the upper hand, but as we locked up and started pushing on each other I found this wasn't the case; she was able to generate so much power with her legs that she was actually backing me up across the ring. This hadn’t been covered on the DVD, and I had no idea what to do; she forced me backwards until I hit the ropes, then she braced her left hand under my chin, pushing my head up and back. With her free right hand she gently started running her fingers up my cock, the thin material of my bottoms providing no protection.
“Ahh, Micheal, looks like you’re in trouble. Estás en problemas. You know, you’re barely going to get that C if you can’t fight back.”
“I’m trying,” I grunted. She changed tactics and began punching me in the stomach; the first unexpected blow hurt hard enough for me to try and bend over, but she held me helpless with her left hand as she punished my gut with repeated hits. After a dozen, she released my chin and I sank down to my knees, gasping; she reached down and tilted my head up so I was looking into her eyes.
“Michael, are you finished already? ¿Ya estás acabado, te rindes?” She dragged me a few feet from the ropes, laying me flat on my back, covering me and hooking my leg; she started counting, but I managed to kick out at dos, throwing her off me. Unfortunately I was still hurting bad from her assault on my stomach, and she was on me before I could even sit up; the scissors hold I’d dreaded was applied as she snapped her legs shut around my midsection.
This was the worst pain I’d ever experienced; it felt like Señorita Alvarez was going to break me in half with her thick thighs. I tried to stay calm and remember how I’d seen the escape on the DVDs, but I was already having trouble breathing as my Spanish professor bore down. It came to me and I grabbed her ankles, trying to force her legs apart; useless. I might as well have attempted to move a mountain with my bare hands.
“Ahh, Señor Michael. I sense you can’t escape! Is that right? ¿Estás bien?” I couldn’t respond, helplessly gasping, still futilely pulling on her ankles. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ve barely started having diversión. I’ll tell you what, tap out now and we won’t end the match, but you’ll have to start from the referee position. ¿Estás de acuerdo?”
“Si,” I grunted. She relaxed her legs and I started greedily sucking in air, covering my aching stomach with both hands.
My rest was short lived as Señorita Alvarez rolled me over and pulled me up to my hands and knees. I vaguely remembered that this was the referee position and stayed put as she went around behind me. For a second nothing happened, then I felt her grabbing my bottoms and pulling them down my legs. She swatted my bare butt and I lifted my left leg, letting her get the bottoms all the way down on that side; I lifted my right before she spanked me again and she finished removing my thong, leaving me in just my mask.
I didn’t know if that meant I could move, so I didn’t; Señorita Alvarez straddled my stomach, and for a second I was terrified she was going to apply a standing scissors, but she just squeezed gently. I yelped as she reached back and slapped my ass.
“¡Arriba!” she cheered. “Vamos, Michael!” I started crawling across the ring as she rode me like a horse, one hand lightly tapping my butt, the other gripping the top of my mask. “Señor Michael, you make a gran caballo!”
Not knowing what else to do, I let her ride me around the ring; it was humiliating, but at the moment I’d rather my pride be hurt than my aching stomach or sides. On top of that, it didn’t seem I had an easy escape; if my professor detected me trying to get away, all she had to do was squeeze her legs shut and I’d be stuck in the standing scissors I was originally afraid she was going to do. So I let her humiliate me, hoping she was going to get overconfident and commit a mistake I could capitalize on.
After a few lazy circles around the ring, she lead me over to the ropes; before I knew what was happening she had my head between the ropes, pressing my neck into the bottom rope for a second. As I grabbed the bottom rope to try and escape, she got the middle rope, yanking it up, letting it snap down over the top of my neck in a strong choke that had me immediately trying to free myself. Señorita Alvarez anticipated my panicked response and got my right wrist between the ropes as well, then the left, and before I knew it she had me completely trapped in the ropes, fighting for breath as they dug into my windpipe.
I didn’t think it could get any worse until my opponent climbed onto my back, pressing her full weight down on me. This did loosen the pressure from the middle rope a little bit, but it pressed my neck down much more against the bottom rope; I thrashed helplessly, choking and drooling, my legs churning against the mat.
“Señor Michael, are you having trouble con su respiración?” my teacher giggled. I would have surrendered right there to get her to stop if I could get any air into my lungs to shout my submission. I think she noticed how much pain I was in as she lightly stepped off; I managed to take a few painful, gasping breaths as she went around behind me. My eyes went wide as I felt her reaching between my legs, one warm hand cupping my hanging balls, the other gently squeezing my limp cock.
“Ahh, are you not enjoying this?” she asked with concern, her fingertips teasing my cock. “¿No quieres un revolcón conmigo?” Despite my ongoing struggle to breathe, my body began to respond, my shaft hardening to her touch. “Oh,” she giggled. “There we are. Aren’t you embarrassed, to be treated like this? ¿No te da vergüenza?” I found that I was totally helpless; nothing on the training DVD had prepared me for this. I’d have thought that the pain and pleasure would have cancelled each other out, but the light-headedness from my inability to breathe seemed to be enhancing my professor’s skilled handjob; I idly wondered how many young failing students she’d gotten like this as she played with me, slowly building me up to the edge, then backing me off a bit before starting again.
How long she worked me over like this I’m not really sure. If she’d just gone at me full speed I probably wouldn’t have lasted a minute, but for all I know she was edging me for half an hour; I lost track of time between the lack of air putting me into a daze and the hypnotic motion of her hand up and down my cock. Finally, one time she didn’t back me off as I got close, working me through a shattering climax. By the time I was finished cumming and she released me from the ropes, I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to move again. My professor dragged me a few feet towards the center of the ring so we were both well clear of the ropes, laid me flat on my back, and sat down on my face, her bare pussy over my mouth.
“¡Uno! ¡Dos! - “ she wasn’t really holding me down, and I powered out of the pin, surprising us both again. “Señor Michael,” she panted, “You are very tenaz.” She glanced at the large clock on the wall. “But you still have quinze minutos to go. Let’s see if you can last that long, sí?”
She came right at me and I didn’t even manage to sit up before she grabbed me, hauling me up to my feet and snapping off a textbook suplex, lifting me scarily high into the air before bringing me down, my back smashing hard into the unforgiving wrestling mat. She pulled me up again and began putting on a clinic, executing suplex after suplex on me - teardrop, fisherman’s, snap, finishing with a release one.
For a blessed second she left me alone and I managed to roll over, rubbing my now aching back. My reprieve was short lived as she pulled me up again and now switched to more complex belly-to-belly style suplexes, starting with a capture suplex, moving on to a head and arm, then a double underhook; she could have held onto this for a pin, but released me to finish with a Northern Lights suplex, bridging after the impact to hold my shoulders down to the mat.
“¡Uno! ¡Dos! - “ she wasn’t really holding me down, and I powered out of the pin, surprising us both again. “Señor Michael,” she panted, “You are very persistente.” She glanced at the large clock on the wall. “But you still have fifteen minutos to go. Let’s see if you can last that long, sí?”
I didn’t want to let her continue punishing me, but she’d hurt me pretty badly; I tried to get up, but once again I was barely able to sit up before my professor was there, going behind me. “How about some submission holds, Michael? ¿Te gustaría eso?”
“No,” I gasped.
“Do you know the dragon sleeper?” I’d seen it on the DVD; she applied it, her left arm going around my neck, her left knee in my back. The hell of suplexes she’d put me through had made me forget all about my sore neck, but the second she started squeezing on it I screamed. This was a mistake as I couldn’t get any more air into my body as she choked me in the sleeper.
I had both hands free and grabbed her arm, trying to break the hold with pure power; if I’d been at full strength I might have had a shot, but as it was I couldn’t budge her. I could tap out, and this thought hammered through my mind. I couldn’t break the hold, and it’s not like I was going to last fifteen more minutes to get that B; I might as well surrender right now…..
But before I tapped I felt her free hand cupping my balls. She eased up on the choke, just a fraction; I realized she wanted to play with me, not choke me all the way out. After teasing my nuts for a moment her hand drifted up. I’d gone completely limp after cumming and her punishing my back with the suplexes, but she managed to get me hard again quickly, using just her index finger and thumb to start, adding fingers as I got bigger until her entire hand was stroking my rock-hard cock.
I caught a break here; where before the lack of air and her handjob had worked together, my neck now hurt so much that it was counteracting the pleasure. She must’ve been able to tell as she had to work at it quite a bit instead of immediately taking me to the edge and backing off. Hoping to trick her a bit I went completely limp, letting my tongue slowly slide out of my mouth; I felt her arm loosen up more as I started drooling on it.
I made my move, bracing my feet on the mat, pushing up and back; the hold broke as Señorita Alvarez shrieked in surprise. I accidentally drove the top of my head into her chin, cutting off her scream as she fell backwards and landed heavily on the mat. For a second, we both focused on recovering; I needed to catch my breath, and it looked like I’d nailed my Spanish teacher pretty good as she slowly sat up, rubbing her jaw and moaning.
“¡Señor Michael, me engañaste!” she accused. I still needed a second to recover and decided to stall her.
“I trucked you?”
“Tricked! Tricked-” That was all I needed as I charged in, aiming a kick at her head. She saw this too late, trying to duck under it; all she managed to do was ensure that my foot slammed into her nose instead of her jaw, putting her down dazed on her back. Adrenaline was burning through my body; I knew I might not get another chance and had to capitalize now. My mind went straight to the closing minutes of the DVD: Finishing power moves.
I pulled Señorita Alvarez up to her feet, bent over, pulling her forward between my legs; I think she assumed I was going for a standing headscissors and yelped in surprise as I reached down, hooking my arms around her stomach and lifting her up onto my shoulders with a grunt.
“Noooooooo!” she wailed. I held her there long enough for her to actually yell “Not the Super Bombazo! Nooooo!” as I made sure I was doing this right before slamming her down, the mat shaking with the impact of her body. She managed to drag one arm over her eyes with a moan, but nothing else as I pressed the attack. Next I decided to use a military press, pulling my Spanish teacher up, lifting her straight up over my head, doing a slow turn to let her savor what was about to happen. “¡Estoy tan alto!” she yelled. With a grunt I threw her down as hard as I could, Señorita Alvarez screaming at the impact then slowly, painfully rolling over and rubbing her back, which must’ve been hurting pretty bad by now.
Hmm, what else? I wanted to keep targeting her back, but I only knew so many finishers, and most of them would hit another part of her body. I was so nervous all I could think of was a piledriver, even though this would target her head; I stood there frozen trying to conjure up another move, but it was all I could think of. As Señorita Alvarez started getting up I knew I had to do something and came in behind her, grabbing her left wrist and pulling her up, throwing her into one of the corners. I caught a lucky break as her instinct was to turn and hit the turnbuckles back-first; this would usually be a good move, but with her back already damaged from my moves, she yelled in agony as she hit the turnbuckles and fell down on her chest.
I hopped over my moaning Spanish teacher, climbing the ropes quickly before she recovered; I had to stop and steady myself as I almost fell off, but made it in time, my feet resting on the top rope, either side of the ringpost, looking out into the ring. I’d thought of doing a top-rope elbow drop, but looking down at Señorita Alvarez I realized this was impossible; she was too close in the corner. I took a deep breath as another idea came over me, hoping I wasn’t about to land wrong and knock myself out or worse. I turned around, facing out of the ring, then jumped and flipped around in the air, doing a moonsault; instead of landing flat in a splash, I kept rotating until my feet landed square on Señorita Alvarez’s back.
“Uwaaaaaaa!” she screamed. “¡Michael, me has roto la espalda!”
“So, that means you want to give up, right?” To my amazement, she was trying to get up, although all she was able to do was drag herself close enough to the ropes to drape one arm over the bottom one. “No? All right, let’s try some submissions then, what do you think?”
“En Español, por favor,” she moaned.
“Okay, uh… Te someteré... ahora?”
“Very good. Let me see your best submission, then.” Well, she was literally asking for it. I wanted to show off a bit and stood over my opponent, reaching down for her legs. “The Bostón
Crab!” she guessed, but I was facing the wrong way for this (we were both facing the ringpost, backs to the rest of the ring). Instead I tucked her legs under my arms, then reached down and grabbed her wrists, straightening back up, lifting her body completely off the mat. I started slowly rocking her back and forth as she moaned in pain; after getting a good rhythm going I scooted forward and started lifting the back of her head up into the bottom turnbuckle with every swing.
“So, you ready to give up?”
“No,” she moaned. “¡Nunca!” I checked the clock; it was hard to believe we weren’t at half an hour yet, but there was just under five minutes to go. As I continued working the hold, it was clear that this was definitely hurting her badly, but I didn’t know how long I’d be able to keep it up; I was supporting her entire weight, and it wasn’t bothering my arms, but her feet braced against my armpits was a little trickier. I had to keep adjusting myself to make sure she didn’t slip out, and I found myself getting tired much quicker than I would have imagined. I released her with just under a minute to go before the half-hour mark, rolling her over and squatting down over her chest, eye to eye with my Spanish teacher.
“Well, how about now? Ready to say ‘¿Me rindo?’”
“Very good,” she groaned. “Your conjugation is improving. And you got me muy bien with that move. But I’m not ready para rendirme a ti! I won’t rendirme. You’ll have to break me!”
“All right. Just remember, you asked for this…” I had an idea for a move she wouldn’t be able to withstand and slid out of the ring, coming around behind the corner she was still lying in. I got a solid grip on her left arm and left leg, pulling her backwards; she went underneath the bottom turnbuckle, her back pressing against the bare steel ringpost. I pulled as hard as I could, bending her around the post, and she howled in agony.
But she didn’t give up, so I kept pulling, bracing my right foot against the ring apron to get some extra leverage. I could only imagine how much this must have hurt; Señorita Alvarez was wailing to wake the dead.
“How about it now?” I barked. “Ready to give?”
“¡En Español!” ” she screamed. “¡Por favor!”
“Ahh, jeez. Um… ¿Te rindes... a mí?”
“Si,” she gasped. I released her, getting back in the ring; it looked like she was beyond even getting up as she lay in the corner, moaning and holding her back.
“Are you okay?”
“Si,” she mumbled into the mat. “Micheal, el combate de lucha libre is not terminado.”
“¿Qué?” She couldn’t be serious.
“I released you when you gave up and put you in the referee position. Now it’s your turn.”
“Ah, okay… are you sure? Can you even get up?”
“Llevame to the center of the ring.”
I rolled her over, not wanting to mat-burn her tits, gripping her under the shoulders and dragging her to the center of the mat. Once there, at her instruction I flipped her back over and helped her up to her hands and knees; she just about managed to hold herself up, although I could see her legs and arms shaking. I got behind her in the referee position. As I looked down on my Spanish teacher’s naked, sweaty body in front of me, I had to think about what to do. I didn’t want to hurt her back any more; I was worried about doing some real damage to her. She started pushing herself backwards against me, rubbing her hips and butt against my crotch. Hmmmm. I figured what I was about to do was fair; after all, she’d rendered me helpless by trapping me in the ropes and then attacked me sexually, now it was my turn.
But first I reached forward to see if she was ready for me, rubbing her pussy with my index finger. I couldn’t believe how wet she was considering I’d just destroyed her back; without thinking I slipped two fingers in and started pumping her.
“Haaahhhhh,” she gasped. “Michael. Micheal, haz que me corra and you’ll get an A-.”
“Is that all?” I gave her ass a loud, hard slap with my other hand. “I think that deserves and A. Otherwise…” My professor whined as my fingers slowed. I came to a stop and she started thrusting herself backwards against my hand. “Ohh, no you don’t.” I braced my other hand against her ass held her still. “Now how about that A?”
“Estoy de acuerdo. Now, please…”
“It’s a deal.”
“And please… use your polla.”
I lined up and pushed forward, going all the way in with one long thrust, both of us moaning as I bottomed out. I held on to her wide hips to keep myself braced as I started fucking my teacher; as I got into it I reached forward and grabbed her short hair, yanking her head back. She seemed to like it rough, and I wished I had a third hand to smack her ass again, but I didn’t want to ruin the moment by slipping out.
This felt amazing; Señorita Alvarez bucked back against me as I fucked her with short, deep strokes, savoring her panting moans. I didn’t know how long I could last, but in the end she went first, howling as she came, her entire body shaking helplessly as I finished her off, shortening up even more. As she climaxed her pussy squeezed down so hard I thought she might force my dick out, but only for a second; I released her hair and she flopped to the mat with a happy sigh.
“Hey,” I slapped her butt, playfully. “Señorita Alvarez. How are you doing down there? Did you, uh… venir?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “Yes, you’ve got that A.”
“Awesome!”
“En Español - ah, never mind,” she gasped, rolling over. “What about you, did you finish?”
“Er, almost.”
“Mmm. Come over here.” I slid forward over her body; she pressed her boobs together, inviting me to titfuck her. I leapt at the chance, slipping my cock between her pillowy tits and pumping away. I reached down to hold on to her shoulders as my shaft rubbed between her soft boobs.
“Hmm, this is quite a view,” she purred. “Do you enjoy follando mis tetas?”
“Oh, yeah,” I grunted. I wished I was going to be able to last a little longer, but I was almost there. My Spanish teacher wasn’t helping, moaning underneath me, keeping her tits pushed together enough so they felt wonderful as my cock slipped between them. She started egging me on, using some words I’d definitely never heard in class before.
“Micheal, are you going to eyacular? Can you cover mi cara?”
“Yeah, here it comes!” I sped up as I started cumming, trying to aim the tip at her face as she’d asked. My climax was so powerful I lost myself in the moment, my world shrinking down to the wonderful soft pressure between her tits.
Finished, I slid backwards, admiring my work. I’d cum more than I ever remembered, some of it between her tits, most of it on her mask and face - I’d covered her nose, cheeks and mouth, with a few long shots leaving some in her eyebrows.
“¡Maravilloso!” my professor told me as I helped her up. “Micheal, you have ganado your A.” She pulled me into a hug and whispered “And if you ever querer a rematch, I’ll be waiting.”
Well, that was Spanish class down. As I was in the shower afterwards I wondered if any of my other teachers had the same interest; after all, I was still pulling a D- in biology...