My Teacher..... Mrs. Pits, Part II.

by Mr. Chain

I started sophomore year in high school with a huge disappointment, not having Ms. Muscarella as my English teacher. After falling in love with her armpits as a freshman and even being fortunate enough to experience them up close and personal, I looked forward to another year of armpit ecstasy. But alas, it looked like that wasn't meant to be. I even tried to join any clubs in which she was involved, but she hadn't signed up for any, so I was out of luck.

But then came the announcement of the fist ever Teachers' Olympics, and my hopes were raised that I might yet have a chance to view her delicious armpits. The event was held after school, with the proceeds going to benefit the PTA, so I was first on line to buy my five-dollar ticket. I got a seat in the front row, and was surprised to find that only the nerds and geeks were in attendance. But that didn't matter, since there was only one reason I had come.

There were a total of four events, two academic and two physical, pitting the various departments against each other. Ms. Muscarella was a member of the English Dept. team, though through the first three rounds, she was only involved in the trivia event, helping her team win that phase of the contest. With the first three rounds concluded, I was disappointed at still not being granted a view of her succulent armpit, though that was about to change.

The last event was called The Joust and was the most physical of all of the events. It consisted of two raised platforms, about 3 or 4 feet apart, on which each teacher stood, holding a large, heavily padded Q-Tip type jousting pole. The idea behind it was to use the jousting pole to knock the other teacher off of her platform before she did the same to you. Members of each team participated through several rounds until it came down to the final pairing. At this point, two departments were tied for the lead, the English Department, and the Physical Education Department. And guess who was representing the English Department?

Ms. Muscarella walked out to the center of the gymnasium, and I immediately was aroused. She was wearing a black, tank top leotard, with a pair of baggy, black sweatpants, perfect for a birds eye view of her armpit. Having positioned myself so that I was in the front row, directly below the jousting platforms, I had the best seat in the house.

Her opponent was the junior and senior gym teacher named Ms. Alessi, who also wore a leotard and sweatpants, though her outfit was colored white. The two women were similar in age, though Ms. Alessi was in much better physical condition than Ms. Muscarella. Both were brunettes too, but that's where the similarities ended.

Ms. Muscarella was a very ordinary looking, middle aged woman. She did not seem particularly athletic, nor was she particularly conspicuous in her appearance. She dressed conservatively, wore little make-up and did little to enhance her appearance. In fact, other than her succulent, splendid armpits and the few extra pounds she carried on her frame, she was very much an average looking woman.

Ms. Alessi on the other hand was quite the opposite. Though also middle aged, she nonetheless was in terrific shape. Her body was fit and trim, her muscles lithe and limber. She also typically wore a good deal of perfume, make-up and fashionable clothing, which was unusual for a gym teacher, but had sort of become her trademark. As she made her way to the center of the gym, the two teachers met, joking and laughing as they prepared to do battle.

Finally, each climbed the couple of steps up her platform before being handed their jousting poles. The teacher who was introducing the contestants then began to explain how the winning department in this years' Teachers Olympics would be decided by the outcome of this contest, introducing an air of urgency to the outcome.

Ms. Muscarella was introduced first, and though greeted with tepid applause, I voiced my approval as she raised both arms over her head, holding tightly to her weapon. Since I was her most vocal supporter, she glanced down at me and smiled as I stared into her luscious underarms, my first view since freshman year. To no surprise, they were just as lovely as I had remembered them, smooth and velvety, with all of those graceful contours. Next, Ms. Alessi was introduced to a much louder ovation. She was a very popular teacher, and it showed. Finally, the two faced each other, and after the whistle blew, they stared at each other with nervous smiles.

The first few seconds were uneventful, with each taking weak pokes at the other, acclimating themselves to the contest. But then Ms. Muscarella made her move, taking a forceful poke at Ms. Alessi. The gym teacher took the blow on her right side, but adeptly stepped aside at the second attempt, another jab directed at her ribs. Since the second blow missed, Ms. Musacarella lost her balance and began to flap her arms, giving me several more quick views of her armpits.

I cherished each glimpse, hoping they could last longer, but I also feared that she might soon be displaced from her platform, bringing an end to any hope of a prolonged view. But she was able to regain her balance and set her feet, to my personal satisfaction. Again they moved slowly, not much action taking place until finally Ms. Alessi took a big, roundhouse swing at Ms. Muscarella's head.

Ms. Muscarella tried to raise her pole to block it, but was too late, taking the blow on the side of her head. The tips of the poles were so padded that it did not hurt her, but again it forced her to lose her balance, lifting her right arm to try and steady hr body. Sitting right below her, I stared up into her deep armpit, hollowed from being raised over her head. I licked my lips as I gawked at it, but then Ms. Alessi thrust her pole forward, ramming it right into the deep concave of the English teacher's underarm.

I groaned at loud as the tip of the pole became buried in Ms. Muscarella's armpit, wishing that my face resided on the end of that pole. But then Ms. Muscarella turned her body just enough so that the pole slipped out of the socket and whisked by her, causing Ms. Alessi to now struggle to maintain her equilibrium. With one foot lifted in the air, the gym teacher gradually steadied herself as Ms. Muscarella watched, smiling.

I couldn't tell if the pole slipped out of her armpit due to her maneuver, or if perspiration had made her armpit so slick that it caused it to slip off of her. I obviously conceded that it was the latter, and kept my fixed on the region. With both still on their feet, the battle continued. Ms. Muscarella took a feeble swing, but Ms. Alessi easily blocked it and retaliated, delivering a slow, roundhouse swing in return.

Ms. Muscarella was able to lift her pole and block the attempt, but Ms. Alessi wasn't giving up that easy. She kept the pressure on by continuing to push her pole downward, causing Ms. Muscarella to lift her arms to try and thwart the attempt. With her pole locked beneath Ms. Alessi's in a power struggle, Ms. Muscarella's arms began to quiver as she tried to resist. Her right armpit was again in full view, and I twisted my neck so I could get a good view of it. The soft skin on the underside of her arms began to shudder as she struggled, her skin glistening from beneath her underarms as she began to perspire.

I hoped that they could keep this pose forever, but finally Ms. Alessi relented, pulling her pole back. Ms. Muscarella stood upright, but just in time to see her opponent's pole come soaring toward the top of her head in a circular motion. Ms. Muscarella instantly straddled her pole with both hands before lifting it straight over her head to block the blow before the two were again locked in another power struggle.

This time, both of Ms. Muscarella's arms were pressed over her head as she bent her knees and tried to weather the storm. The view was amazing, each armpit exposed, each cupped from the strain of desperately pressing her arms up over her head. Her underarms were deeper than I had ever seen them before, and I felt light-headed as I gazed into them. They were so smooth and soft looking that I had never seen anything which made me so aroused in all of my young life.

The struggle kept up for quite a few more moments until finally Ms. Muscarella could not hold on. She dipped her left arm, causing her body to pitch to the left. Ms. Alessi then quickly pulled her pole back before sweeping a blow across the right side of the wobbly English teacher's head. The pole caught Ms. Muscarella square in her right cheek and sent her sailing into the air and off the platform. She landed flat on her back, her arms sailing over her head as her body sank into the soft cushions.

I stared into her armpits the entire time, ogling them as she landed with her arms over her head. Then, seeing another opportunity, I jumped up and ran toward her, pretending to see if she was okay. As I reached her, it was obvious that she was shaken by the blow, so I kneeled alongside her, within inches of her armpit. She looked up at me with a quizzical expression, still dumbfounded by the blow to her head, but then began to push herself up. Not allowing another opportunity to pass me by, I jumped up and set myself behind her before pressing my hands beneath each of her underarms to help her get up. She seemed surprised at my assistance, prompting her to try and get up quickly, so I enjoyed the sensation of touching her clammy armpits as much as I could. Her skin was so soft, the recesses of her underarms so deep, that I was in heaven. As she got to her feet, she turned and lifted her hand to my cheek and told me she was okay.

Ms. Alessi jumped down and pushed me aside, obviously annoyed at the way I had touched Ms. Muscarella, but I had already gotten what I had come for. Not only did the contest give me several great views of Ms. Muscarella's armpit from a distance, but once again I had again managed to caress them, enjoying them for as long as I could. No, this time I hadn't kissed them, but it was close enough.... at least for now!

THE END.... Or is it?!?!?