A lot of you might remember me from my previous sexstory on iss. I have shared few stories here and have received quite good feedback from my readers. Many of those readers have become good friends over these years.
For those who don’t know me, my name is Paul (email: [email protected]), I’m a single guy aged 29 and after my MBA I found employment with one of the top MNCs in Bangalore. I’m 5’7″, athletic and an award-winning endurance cyclist. If you’re a cyclist, chances are we know each other.
This story is about how I had a brief affair with my English teacher when I was 18.
No matter what happens, I will not reveal her identity. I would not want to get her into any trouble. So readers, please share your feedback to [email protected] but please do not ask for her contact details. I will not share it.
The teacher in question was my English teacher. I’ll refer to her as Nalini. She was probably only about the late 20s / early 30s. She was really pretty, and a lot of the boys (and girls for all I know) immediately got a crush on her. She also had a very soft voice, which seemed very sexy to us. She also had this habit of coming and making very direct eye contact. It was hard not to blush and stammer when she did this. She knew exactly the effect she had on us and seemed to do it on purpose. The way she used to drape her sarees that didn’t help either.
As 18-year-olds, we were hormonal as you like. You had to be careful to stop yourself thinking about sex even for a second otherwise you’d get an erection, unbidden. A lot of the time this could be hidden with a bit of squirming and the odd quick hand movement to ‘straighten things out’. But in Nalini’s class, the erection would start almost before class began and last all the way through.
Anyway, so every day after school, I used to go Cycling with my friends. This particular day, my mom asked me to drop off a parcel to her friend’s place in the neighborhood. Using my cycle, it was pretty easy for the most part, but there was one street that was so inclined that I wasn’t able to pedal my way through. I had to get off my bike and push it along. I finally reached the location and tied my bike to a pole nearby. Mom’s friend lived in a flat on the 7th floor and I didn’t want to use the elevators. It kept me very fit, and moreover, I was (and still am) into athletics.
I was running up the stairs when the door ahead of me opened and out stepped Nalini. She recognized me straight away and I said Hello. We made a bit of idle chit-chit for a few minutes. She was on her way out but said next time I was in the apartment, I should knock and come in for a snack. It was a teacher I had a crush on, so the idea of a snack and a bit of time in her company seemed like a nice idea. I said I would. It never occurred to me for a second that anything would happen, but it certainly fuelled my fantasies each night before I went to sleep.
The next time we had a lesson with Nalini, she returned my exercise book that she’d marked some homework in, with a little note in the corner: Flat 401 don’t forget. 401 was her flat. Goodness. My heart was pounding when I saw that, and I could hardly look at her. For the first time I thought maybe she did have more in mind, but I dismissed it as schoolboy wishful thinking and tried to remain calm.
After few days, I just couldn’t resist myself and I went back to the apartment to hopefully see Nalini and maybe have a snack. The moment I reached the apartment, my heart was totally in my mouth, because by this time my crush on her was overwhelming, and even though I dismissed any thought of anything happening between us, just the thought of being in her flat had that effect on me. So I timidly knocked on her door, sweating profusely with the heat of the moment. She smiled and let me in, remarking that I looked hot (as in temperature, ‘hot’). Would I like a cool drink? Yes, please. It was awkward, I didn’t know what to say. She was looking absolutely stunning in her floral skirt and t-shirt. Looking around, her flat was furnished fairly poorly, with second hand stuff and a lot of boxes everywhere. Later she told me she was new to the town and was here temporarily. I already got disappointed at that – I hadn’t realised that was what she was until then, I thought she was married.
Anyway, she made me and herself some squash and we sat up at a sort of stools overlooking the kitchen. At first we made a bit of small talk, about school, about things I liked and disliked – it was mostly her doing all the talking. I was flummoxed and tongue-tied. She laughed and told me to relax, that she wouldn’t bite. She put her hand on my arm – it struck me as a very warm and inviting thing to do, and I immediately relaxed a bit. The image of her hand on my arm is so vivid in my memory – she had very soft skin, small hands, and very neatly applied light pink nail polish. I was wearing a dark green woollen jumper, white shirt and black trousers. As she took her hand away she crossed her legs in such a way that I could see her thighs under her skirt. After a few seconds she quickly uncrossed them and smoothed the skirt down, as if she’d done it by accident. I was probably staring, or trying not to, but I knew she knew I’d seen. At that moment I blushed, and then I could feel my cock stiffening. Oh no! The last thing I needed. It was excruciatingly embarrassing, not to mention painful, as the way I was sitting meant there was no space for it to expand into.
Probably to save my embarrassment, she stood up and collected our empty glasses and starting fussing about in the kitchen. I took the opportunity to straighten out my trousers to accommodate my stiff cock. After a couple more minutes I started to make my excuses and said I should be getting home. She smiled and said OK, but said I was welcome next time and maybe we should make it a regular thing. I mumbled OK as she showed me out, her hand resting on my arm, and did I imagine it or did she give it a little squeeze? I biked home as fast as I could, still rock hard, ran upstairs to my room and had to masturbate to Nalini. I must have come in about 20 seconds.
Next time, I knocked with a little more confidence. I’d seen her in class once or twice since last time and she had been very friendly, and gave me a lot of what I read as encouraging smiles. I didn’t have the sense to see if anyone else got this treatment – I thought it was all for me. This time she was wearing a long nighty and had her hair tied up in a towel. She asked me to excuse her, but she was going out later and had just washed her hair. I said it was OK. She made me some instant noodles and we sat in the same places on the stool. I did feel more relaxed this time and was able to make a bit more conversation. This time the talk was a bit more personal.
She asked me about some of the others in my class, and whether we talked about her. I didn’t quite know what to say, but she smiled and said she’d noticed a few of the boys seemed to have a bit of a crush on her. I agreed that it was true. Then she said: so what about you? Again, embarrassed blushes, and again, the hand on my arm. Well, that answers that then, she said. The next bit is a bit of a blur in my mind – I’ve replayed it so often as part of my fantasies that the difference between them and what really happened is lost in time. But I think she let her hand slip off my arm and rest on my bulging, uncomfortably restricted cock. I think she said something like there was something there that needing taking care of. It sounds like a corny line from a porno, but at that time I’d never, ever seen a porno, so I wouldn’t have known. I was frozen to the spot, hardly dared breathe. I wasn’t sure if I was scared that she’d do something, or scared that she wouldn’t.
She rubbed my cock a bit through my trousers, then said she could ‘help me out’ strictly on one condition. I stammered: What? That I did not say a word of this to anyone, and especially not go bragging about it to my mates. It had to be strictly private between the two of us, and at school it would be as if nothing had ever happened. I agreed. She came closer, standing up – she smelled wonderful, so fresh after her bath, and she had a very light fruity perfume on. The towel on her head came undone and fell to the floor, and her long slightly wet hair fell down around my face. With her hand still gently rubbing my cock, she bent down and we kissed. I’d never really kissed anyone sexually before, though I had dreamed of it so many times. I responded as best I could, and it was wonderful. Her lips were so soft and warm.
Then I felt her probe a little with her tongue and I let her in. It was the most incredible feeling! Suddenly I felt myself jerk in my pants and come in an instant, with no warning. Aargh! She broke off and laughed, but in a gentle way, saying ‘oops’. I blushed again, and she reassured me that it was no problem, she’d get me a tissue and we could start again, now that the urgency was gone.
She undid my pants and pulled them down, and there was a big wet patch on my underpants. She pulled those over my still erect cock (it never went down for one second) and down, and there I stood with my flagpole at full attention, dripping cum. She took it into her mouth and started to gently suck it clean. It was the most exquisite sensation I had ever felt. I’d read about women taking cum in their mouths in magazines, but there was still something illicit and slightly ‘dirty’ about it to me, so I was thrilled. Luckily I was able to get used to the beautiful feeling of it before I got overexcited again, so I was able to hold off coming again for a good two or three minutes! To me, that seemed like a pretty good run at the time. As I was about to cum again I thought she might not want it full in the mouth, so I tried to warn her and pull out, but she wasn’t having any of it, and took the full load, swallowing immediately.
After that, I still didn’t really lose my erection but we cuddled up and kissed some more. It was a bit awkward both sort of half sitting on the stool chair. She opened her nighty and she was naked underneath. I looked down naturally and she had a big curly bush of blackish-brown hair. She took my hand and guided it to her cunt, and she was dripping wet. I was surprised at its heat – I’d imagined touching a pussy so many times, but hadn’t thought of that. I massaged it a bit with my fingers, not really knowing what I was supposed to be doing. She started to guide me – more towards the top, not so hard, back and forth, lightly, not too direct, not so hard.
Soon she was panting as she kissed me harder and harder, then came. It was more or less her masturbating herself with my fingers, but it seemed to work. The smell of her on my fingers was wonderful too – I didn’t wash that hand that evening.
After we both calmed down a bit she told me I ought to go. Remember, not a word. If I hear you’ve said anything, you’ll never have this again, but if you keep quiet, your visit here will be the best nights of the week. Or words to that effect. She also said that as my teacher, she would be delighted to show me how to do everything to please her, and in return, she would do everything I dreamed of.
Well, that’s exactly what happened. ‘One Love by Blue’ was a big hit at the time and the lyrics seemed to be highly suggestive of our affair, so we played it a lot and it became our song, or at least I thought of it that way. If I hear it now it still makes my smile from ear to ear. I never did say a word, at least not for about 18 years (till now). I’d see her twice a week, and she really did teach me everything. We quickly graduated from the kitchen stools to her bedroom, and in a very short time, I had my first fuck.
Naturally, my performance was rather brief that first time (and for quite a few more times too), but what was great about her was that she never minded, just said it was to be expected and that we’d try again soon. At that age I just never got soft, so she didn’t have to wait long. As the weeks went by I got more and more skilled and lasted much longer. She always came too and said that she loved the feeling of being with me. I doubt if I could have told the difference, but I believed her anyway. She really did teach me everything – oral, anal (just once), using toys on her, even a few kinks.
All through this ‘affair’, she reiterated the importance of keeping it private between us – I certainly didn’t want it to stop. She also made it very clear (but in a very friendly and pleasant way) that it was not love, that I shouldn’t fall for her, to think of it as training that someone special to me would benefit from later. And as such, I took that on board. I guess at the beginning I thought it must be in love, but that feeling subsided quickly the more we had sex. I really liked her, and really enjoyed her company and what we did together, but I stopped crushing on her. At the same time, I thought it would go on indefinitely, so I was rather shocked when one day after we’d fucked she said that she was leaving the school and would be going back to her native to get married in a week or so. I suddenly felt quite gutted, and I think she sensed that. She said she would be able to meet one last time next week, and that would be our last goodbyes.
That week was her last at school, but I believed I had that one last night to look forward to, so it passed me by. But the next day, when I went to her flat and knocked on the door, there was no answer. I knocked loudly and for some time, thinking she might be having a bath or something and couldn’t hear. But the noise roused a neighbour across the hall and he came out and said she’s gone, left at the weekend. I felt momentarily devastated, and went home in a very subdued mood, almost in tears. I didn’t even know where she went to, she’d never told me. For a few days I brooded about it, trying to plot how I could track her down and continue things, but it gradually dawned on me that the ending had been entirely deliberate. That she had known I would have felt that way and would have cried or made a fuss at the end. She wanted to cut it off cleanly, and she had.
As I realized this, I actually felt better about it. She’d done the right thing. I had not long turned 16 by then, but I felt like a man. The teacher had taught me; she’d come and do her job. My confidence was totally transformed after that. I never had any problem talking to girls, or getting tongue-tied when I liked someone or being all hesitant if I wanted to ask someone out. That confidence in itself seemed to make me attractive to girls, even though I never thought of myself as anything special in the looks or body department.
So far from looking back on it as an adult taking advantage of a child for her own selfish pleasure, I truly believe she wanted to help me become that confident person. And I’m truly grateful – it was wonderful, and while it also includes a lot of embarrassing elements, I can see that was just my inexperience and naivety. I’m sure she also had her own selfish reasons as well, but she is more than welcome to them. I’m not saying that the same would apply in every similar situation – I find the idea of an adult taking advantage of a child utterly abhorrent. But even in my innocence, I was 100% willing. If I hadn’t been it wouldn’t have happened, I’m sure of it. I feel blessed by the experience. Thank you, Nalini.
Readers, thank you for reading my story. I would love to hear your thoughts on this. Are there any experience from your teachers that you still think about? You can email me on [email protected]