Tit for Tat

tommyrawblog@gmail.com

Just some general mischief here.
Ya know, innocent schoolboy perversion!


I still smile whenever
I think about her!


And I'm sure you girls out there in the crowd have all had your guy teachers that did it for you
as well right??

Tit for Tat

Edwin Markham Intermediate school 51
(I.S.51) was the second school that I attended during my shaky educational crisis.
Oh, I mean, educational career.

I went there for grades 6, 7, and 8.

And I can say that my entire time spent there wasn’t completely wasted on schoolwork. Sure we had to do homework, take tests and do reports, but these three years were predominantly sports oriented ones. Similar to my grammar school years back in P.S.22.

A familiar pic to anyone who has ever crossed through those doors.
P.S.22 is on Forest Ave kinda on the Elm Park/Mariners Harbor boarder.
It was a great place to attend. Don't know why I didn't add this pic earlier.
But if you read some of the stories from my time here,
this is where all the mayhem went down  LoL

We played everything at 51.

Handball, softball, punch ball, hockey,

flag football, and a few others I’m sure I’ve left out. Too bad we had to do all of that other educational stuff as well, otherwise school might’ve been great instead of just semi-fun.

Oh who the fuck am I trying to kid??

I hated school... every bit of it!

Except for the sports,

and of course lunch. Oh be quiet.

But no matter what you liked or disliked about school, it always started the same way day in and day out. Well here, anyways.

And that was with homeroom.

You remember homeroom, dont'cha?

Taking attendance, copying last night’s homework from your friends, and of course, planning the day’s adventures.

Our homeroom was held in the cafeteria and it was just mass confusion every morning. There were hundreds of out of control preteens packed into this gigantic wide-open room
with nothing but lunch tables.

Anyway, I can hear you thinking to yourself Wow, just how the hell did they get all of those kids under control and quieted down?

You were thinking that, weren’t you?

Well, they did it in a way that would rival even the earliest days of the planet. When dinosaurs roamed the earth and the caveman
first tried to communicate.

You see, while the early years on this planet may have had the caveman, we my friend, had our own prehistoric link in the chain. He was a short albino-like lunatic with white hair and a red face. Mr. J.

Look out man.

He was a scary son-of-a-bitch.

Cool... but scary at the same time... LoL

I would put him up against any prehistoric caveman any day of the week!
He would kick the fuck-snot outta
anyone who dare challenge him!

The method he used to gain control of an impossible situation was just so incredible.

Ridiculous even!
No wait...
... actually it was, well, prehistoric!

For when it was time that everyone settle down to let the teachers have their say, he would walk up to one of the tables towards the rear of the cafeteria. He would then pick up an unsuspecting student’s text book with both hands.
The thicker it was the better.

He then lifted the book high over his head and began to slam that shit down onto the edge of the table. Over and over and over again until there was dead silence in the whole room.

Finally, all that was heard was his demented blows to the table....
Bang... bang... bang... bang...


Fuckin' demented dude, demented!
Prehistorically demented... LoL

We had tables just like this, only ours weren't blue.
But he would stand at the edge right there and slam
the shit outta that book on the end of the table... LoL
The kids sitting at the table were shaking in their fuckin' boots!!

The sound of that book still resonates deep within the caverns of my inner ear.

He was like a possessed being
searching for attention.

Every morning we watched him transform into an alien form as his usually white complexion turned to a bright glowing red. The veins in his head would explode with blood and protrude out
like the alien that he was.

I always felt bad for the kids who sat at the unlucky table that he assaulted. I’m sure that they’re all deaf some forty years after the fact.

Anyway, after our attention had been gotten, homeroom officially began. And instead of hearing yelling and screaming with a smear of loud radio play, you heard student’s names being called out along with responses
of here and present.

Now after all of our homework was copied and adventures planned, we then turned our full attention towards our favorite teacher. She taught Spanish class and was also
our homeroom teacher. And wow!
Miss E.

Believe me, if you ever met her
you’d be saying wow yourself.

She was about five feet tall. Really pretty and well, uuhhh, how can I say this??

Well, she had really big boobies. LoL

They would mesmerize us on a daily basis.

Everyday there would be fantasies, stories, and wishful thinking swirling all around us little perverts. And it would be these goings on that gave us our first real taste of the crawl under the nearest rock type of embarrassment.

You see, as us perverts were pining away over our fantasy teacher, the girls in the class were listening to every word that was being said.
Ut ohhh!

You guessed it.

Those no good flat-chested sluts went up to our teacher and told her just what was going on and what was being said.

Oh man, we were busted!

(Hey wait, get it? Busted!)

Suddenly we all felt like criminals.

A hush came over our entire homeroom class. All of the sluts, oh I mean girls, just sat there looking all full of themselves. Knowing damn well they had one-upped us.

We just sat there squirming in our seats and waited for the hammer to fall. We were feeling the fool and sensing true embarrassment for the very first time in our short little perverted lives.

Well the hammer did fall. And it came in the form of the most ruthless and cunning of all punishments; the dreaded silent treatment! Which was even worse then getting yelled at.
As we would soon find out.

Our beautiful, hot, Hispanic homeroom educator with the bubbly big boobies
wouldn’t even look at us!

Dude,  we really felt like crap. That damn bell which ended homeroom couldn’t ring fast enough for us. The embarrassment was just so heavy pushing down upon us. I remember it
being such a horrible feeling.

Did'cha ever just wanna disappear into thin air?

Where’s fuckin’ Houdini when you need him?

The girls really got us good and they knew it. But we dared not seek out revenge. For their time would have to come another day.

We just had to sit there and suffer through
that deafening silence.

Man, it’s a great tool that silence. It got so bad that we actually broke down in just minutes, and walked up to her and apologized. We
couldn't even make it through homeroom.
That's how fucking powerful
her beautiful silence was! Wow!

That beautiful silence
was the devil herself.


But she made it kinda easy on us. I mean we didn’t have to beg for forgiveness or anything like that. She took it a lot better than
anyone of us thought she would.

But I’ll bet that deep down inside the reason we didn’t get into big trouble was that she kinda dug the fact that the boys in her class
were out of their minds for her.

C’mon, she had’ta feel something right!?

It had to make her feel good. Well, in a statutory rape kinda way, dont’cha think?

Man, imagine that.

Her doin’ all of us! Yeah!

I can still dream, can’t I?

Well, we all learned a big lesson that day, no doubt. We learned that embarrassment was not a fun emotion. It sucked big time! And we knew that none of us ever wanted to feel it again.

So from that point on, whenever we talked about our teacher's boobies, oh wait, wait. You didn’t think that we actually stopped
worshiping them beauties did'cha?

Oh c'mon now.

Shame on you for thinking that.

Those babies were worth taking the risk for. I mean they were in our fucking dreams for goodness sake. So how could we not
talk about them?

We just made sure that the big mouthed, tattletale sluts who ratted us out didn’t hear any of our perversions. Our fantasies were once again full of life. Wow! Miss E.

As for the girls, well they never did get theirs.
There would be no Tat to their Tit. We finally realized that these females held a power over us that we just couldn’t resist,
or ever hope to understand.

And from that moment on we had begun our journey of trying to figure them out, including going to great lengths to lure their attention.

Man, they had us under their thumbs right from the very muthafucking beginning didn't they?

From the moment that sexual light bulb flicked to the on position inside our empty heads, right up to the very second I typed this here sentence.

Guys, we never had a chance!

Any of you out there ever have a crush
on one of your teachers??