After our regular boring English tutor fell ill, the substitute tutor is anything but boring, from clothings to the huge chest.
I had known when I signed up for the ENG312 tutorial in the latest round of night classes I was taking that it was going to be boring, but I had no idea just how boring it was going to be. My tutor was exactly what you would think a boring teacher would be – about a hundred years old, slow, and about as exciting as a glass of water.
To make matters worse, she spoke in a monotone which quickly put half of the class asleep. I knew that all I could do was try to stay awake and get through the course with a ‘pass’ grade average; I was only in my third year and wanted to get finished with it, no matter how bad it was going to be to have to sit through that boring class.
All that changed about halfway through the course when the regular tutor took ill and had to be replaced by a substitute. I was the first student in the classroom that night, and when I walked in and saw a beautiful lady sitting at the desk at the head of the room, I turned around and walked out thinking that I had walked into the wrong room. I looked at the room number above the door and saw that I was in the right room, and then walked back inside. The woman at the desk was looking at me as I walked in, and smiled when she spoke to me.
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“You’re in the right room,” she said, her eyes sparkling.
“I’m Miss Ngozi, the replacement for this class. Your regular tutor is out sick, so I’ll be taking her place for a while.”
It took me a moment to regain my composure and reply; this woman was absolutely beautiful! She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, and except for the glasses she was wearing, she looked like Genevieve Nnaji! I guessed that she must have been in her mid-twenties as I walked over to the desk to introduce myself.
“Hi, I’m Eddie,” I said. Miss Ngozi stood up to shake my hand and my mouth dropped open when she did.
“Ngozi Okoye; nice to meet you, Eddie!” she said. If she noticed my reaction when she stood up, she didn’t show it.
Ngozi had the most enormous chest I had ever seen. The woman’s jacket and skirt outfit she was wearing did a good job of hiding most of it, but there was just no way to completely hide the two huge breasts with which this woman had been endowed.
The two breasts stood out proudly from her chest, and they were so big around that they brushed the sides of her upper arms when she moved them. She had a narrow waist and a very shapely pair of legs, and I would see later on during the class that she also had a round, shapely ass to match it all. I finally regained my composure and spoke before she thought I was a complete idiot.
“Nice to meet you, Miss Okoye,” I said, shaking my hand.
“Ngozi, please!” she said, smiling broadly at me. “I’m very informal when it comes to titles and things like that,” she explained.
“Okay, Ngozi, then,” I said, returning her smile. The other students started to shuffle in about that time, so I turned and made my way to my usual seat. I sat back and watched the reactions of the other students as they walked in. The majority of the students in the class were male, and they all had about the same reaction as I did.
Four of the students were female, and three of them were obviously jealous of Ngozi’s looks. They were cold and nasty with her, and if looks could kill Ngozi would surely have been dead.
From that day on the class was anything but boring. Ngozi had a way of teaching that caught everyone’s attention, not that she needed anything else to catch the attention of the male students. I actually started to enjoy the tutorial, and not just because of the way Ngozi looked, but because she made the class enjoyable. The four women, on the other hand, all dropped out of the tutorial within a week of Ngozi taking over.
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Another reason that other male students and I started to enjoy the class was the way Ngozi dressed. She always wore conservative outfits, a jacket and skirt, but the jackets were always cut to emphasize her figure without being obvious about it.
Every now and then she would take off her jacket if the room got too hot, and when she did that for the first time and the men in the room got a look at just how big and round her breasts were, you could almost hear the dicks getting hard all over the room!
I could only imagine the heavy-duty bra that must be holding those giants up! The high heels she always wore only added to the image; I wondered how in the world she could walk in them, but she did.
It also helped that Ngozi had a habit of sitting on the table at the front of the room as she was teaching. She always kept her knees together or her ankles crossed, but every now and then you could catch a quick glimpse of white lace as she got up and down from the table. She also had a habit of tapping a pencil against the tip of her tongue when she asked the class a question, and this was driving the men wild.
I didn’t know if she knew the effects she was having on the class, but I had a feeling she did.
About two weeks after she took over the class we were having an intense discussion which was far from ending when closing time came around. Ngozi looked particularly stunning that night, dressed in a dark suit with a white silk shirt beneath it.
The skirt was short enough to make thing interesting but not short enough to get her in trouble; it was also just comfortable enough to make it interesting.
I was wondering that night, as I wondered just about every night, if she was a G-string or a panties type of girl. I guessed she was a G-string girl. In any event, when the time came for the class to be dismissed Ngozi approached me as I was gathering my books and writing materials to leave.
“Eddie, could you stay behind for a few moments? I would like to discuss this in details with you, if you don’t mind,” she asked, touching my arm. “If you don’t have to leave right away, that is.”
“Sure, no problem,” I replied, setting my books and stuffs back down. “I’ve got plenty of time.”
“Good! I was hoping you would say that,” she said, smiling at me. She turned and walked over to her desk, giving me a good look at her swinging buttocks as she did so. Once there, she turned and leaned back against the desk, placing her hands palm-down on either side of her hips. She watched as the last student left the room, the door closing behind him.
“So which part of the discussion did you have in mind?” I asked, sitting on the edge of the table where she usually taught from and crossing my arms across my chest.
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“Actually, I just used that as an excuse, something to say in front of the other students,” she replied, smiling a crafty smile at me. “I hope you’re not angry with me!”
“Why would I be angry?” I said, smiling back at her. I had a feeling I knew where this was going, but I was going to let her lead. “So what’s on your mind, Ngozi?” I asked.
“You,” she said, getting right to the point. “You’ve been on my mind ever since you first walked into this class.”
“Really?” I asked
“Yes, really,” she replied. “You made me tingle in all the right places the very first time I saw you, and I still tingle whenever I see you.”
“Are you tingling now?” I asked, playing with her.
“Oh, yes,” she said, “I’ve been tingling all night.” She unbuttoned her jacket and slipped it off of her shoulders, showing her chest to me. Clearly visible against her shirt were her nipples, hard and erect, poking out against the shirt. “See what I mean?” she asked, smiling at me.
“This happens every time I look at you, which is why I don’t take my jacket off very often.”
“Yes, I see what you mean,” I replied, admiring her huge chest and the two nipples. “That could be a problem, I guess. So what do you want to do about it?” I asked.
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