Chapter Text
Kara leaned back and smiled. Everything was going great. Better than expected.
She had been nervous when she had started teaching at St. Bartholomew School for Boys, a private all-boys school. It was the last place she ever expected to end up. Kara Hoters had always envisioned herself in a public school. "But they don't pay half as well." But ever since she had arrived, all her preconceived notions about private schools had been adroitly disproven.
Even the kids were well-behaved. Or as well behaved as one could reasonably expect of grade schoolers. Unlike her husband, Kara had no interest in teaching high school. "Too much drama and emotional stress." Not that teaching 3rd graders didn't come with its own trials and tribulations; the escape of the class pet hamster still haunted her.
She hated the little rodent. But the boys in her class had nothing but love for the beastly little thing. So, she bravely shared the classroom with the filthy creature. Kara arched her back and raised her arms to get the kink out of her back. Normally, she would have thought twice about arching her back in the classroom.
Kara had been, in her own words, "overly blessed by puberty". Her mammoth breasts strained every top she ever wore. In high school, her breasts were already as big as her head. Teenagers being naturally cruel, taunted her. They called her "Kara Hooters," a play on her unfortunate last name, "Hoters". Thankfully, it was a nickname that had not followed her to St. Barts. She had hated the name and spent countless lunch breaks crying in the girls' bathroom.
But her junior year, Kara decided to embrace her overflowing bra and went from being bullied to being one of the most popular girls in her school. It's a miracle what wearing crop-tops and cut-off tees will do for a girl's reputation. Needless to say, "Kara Hooters" was never lonely. Her newfound confidence followed her into college, where she met Greg, her husband. On their first date, she told him that if he ever wanted a feel, never to make fun of her last name.
Memories of her nickname were one of the reasons why Kara preferred teaching kids as opposed to teenagers, along with not having to worry about catcalls or exerting her authority over hormonal teenage boys more interested in getting a glimpse at her jaw-dropping hooters than learning.
With kids, she didn't have to worry about such things. Or so she thought. Despite dressing conservatively, Kara's breasts were impossible to hide, and more than a few times she could feel every set of eyes in her class scrutinizing her every movement. Once, when the AC had broken, she had removed her dress jacket, and she heard a collective gasp from the class when they saw her giant basketball-sized tits straining the fabric of her dress shirt. Kara felt her mouth go dry as she felt every child nakedly gazing at her tits with awe and wonder. Well, not quite awe; there was something else in their not-quite-innocent looks that she couldn't quite put a name to-but it always left her feeling dizzy and flushed.
Still, the boys were largely harmless. Though she was irked at how they laughed at her during the infamous hamster prison break. She had jumped onto one of the empty desk seats in horror. She was so frightened she didn't even notice how every boy in the class was mesmerized by the violent sway and bounce of her massive chest. Still, despite their unsettling curiosity, they were hardly unruly. Sure, they gawked, stared, and in some cases she swore, ogled. But they at least TRIED to look her in the eyes. Which was more than most grown men did. "They're just curious. That's all. They're just children, after all." To a one, they treated Kara with respect. "Most of the time anyway."
The boy looked horrified. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you, Miss Hoters!"
Kara couldn't help but feel sorry for the boy. Part of why Kara could never bring herself to be mad at Jefferey was how sweet he was. Whatever else she may have felt about the boy, he was a genuine sweetheart. Even if she did suspect him of letting the class hamster loose. "Likely forgot to close the latch after putting him back in," she reasoned.
Jefferey shuffled towards Kara's desk. His red hair, a mass of unruly curls, brought out the freckles on his round face. He looked apologetic but also anxious.
"Oh, no." Kara thought. "Not again." She knew what was coming. She propped her elbow on the desk and leaned her head against her hand. "What do you want, Jefferey?" Her voice was slightly exasperated at what she knew was coming. But what she had forgotten was how much of her breathtaking cleavage was now on display.
Jeffery stopped beside Kara's desk. His emerald green eyes shone with utter awe as his mouth dropped. "Wooooooooow."
Kara gave the boy a look of bewilderment. Until she noticed where his eyes were looking. Kara yelped and frantically tugged her shirt close. "Oops," Kara apologized. Her face turned as red as the boy's hair.
Jeffery's freckled face shone with ecstasy. "You don't have to apologize to me, Miss Hoterss. Wow! Those are even bigger than my head! Your head ev-"
"JEFFREY!" Kara tried not to laugh. She brushed her hair out of her face while she vainly struggled to keep her shirt closed.
"Sorry. It's just, you're so beautiful."
Kara rolled her eyes. "Right on cue."
"I was thinking, if you weren't doing anything tomorrow-it's a half day-if you wanted-"
"Jefferey," Kara's tone was exasperated.
"To go out with me?"
Kara leaned her head back and groaned. No less than three times a week for the past four months, without fail, Jeffery would come by after class and ask Kara out for a date.
No amount of argument seemed to be able to dissuade the boy from his quest. Every time Kara would tell the boy how she was flattered, but that she was married. "And even if I weren't, I would still be your teacher. And even if I weren't your teacher, I would still be too old for you."
The last one never failed to send Jefferey off on a tangent about how he didn't care she was "so old." Something that the twenty-five-year-old always bristled at. "I'm too old for you; that doesn't mean I'm your grandma!" But Jefferey would not, could not, be persuaded to see what was wrong with an 8-year-old kid dating his adult, 25-year-old teacher. "I mean, what business is it of theirs who we date?"