Written by gigglynurse
11 Jun 2012
my time with teacher
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a story by mr gigglynurse
my time with teacher
Every senior schoolboy probably has a fantasy at some stage of getting dirty with a teacher. I was no different and in my last year at a northern country high school our class had the good fortune to be blessed with an extended visit by a stunning young student teacher for our English classes. Given that she was only a few years older than most of us having completed just three years of her course (with a year to go post on site training) she seemed so close to us, so achievable, so attractive as to be even more desirable.
We were good friends during that time spending many classes discussing the course content and several long afternoons after school in animated arguments as to the validity of the content in preparing us for life in general. Right through that time we maintained the proper teacher student relationship, even as the year ended and the temperatures rose in our un air conditioned portable classrooms I recall watching fascinated as the pearls of sweat would form on her brow and slowly run down her temple, trailing her ear and make a beeline down her throat to disappear between the wonderfully large firm breasts that filled her summer dresses.
I completed that year with a very good grade in English and over the coming years at university often recalled those long summer days when groups of her adoring students would sit with her and sometimes other teachers on the grass outside the classrooms and discuss the vagaries of the educations system.
Then several years later a twist of fate found us face to face.
I had finished university for the year and returned home for the summer to a country town at the foothills of the mountains and ski resorts. As a bit of an income earner I was coerced into driving a school bus run that was owned by my brother that he usually had another driver for. It was easy work, a few hours at each end of the day with time in between to work on the little house I was restoring on the side of a hill. The house was basic, small and old but had views that were unsurpassed and in the winter I could see the snow on a clear day, a go skiing.
Anyway a week or so into the bus driving I was into a routine, the usual “good” kids up the front and the “rowdy boys” down the back, trying to sneak a smoke and generally muck around. I didn’t really mind as I was only a few years older than most anyway and joked with them all. I also used to buy a magazine every few days and read it as I waited for the students to load, throwing it against the windscreen as I drove off. As soon as the boys down the back realised that the current copy of Penthouse or Playboy was laying against the screen there came a shift in seating arrangements as they stormed the bus first to sit up front and grab the magazine as soon as we moved off. I didn’t care as it meant they were up front, easy for me to watch over and were generally quiet, except for the exclamations of desire from the hormone frenzy.
This went on for a week or so more before one afternoon there I was waiting quietly in the bus reading when there was a knock on the door. Seems as students will there had been talk during school about the reading content on my bus and one of the teachers felt it was her duty to reprimand me as to the (quite rightly) unsuitability of the content around children.
So there I was instantly catapulted back several years as I gazed out of bus window (from a height advantage as well) looking down on a vision of absolute beauty. Here was this mid 20s teacher in her summer dress, her hair now very blonde and her figure even more defined as the sun was making her dress quite see through, her hips wide and full just like her lips. Oh her lips I thought, they are moving, what was that ? I stumbled through my fog of surprise at being caught, her clean clear face looking directly at me, her eyes quite fierce as she proceeded to berate me for my lack of professionalism as an adult in charge of children.
I recall stammering some silly reply as I fumbled to hide the magazine (& the erection it had caused ) as I jumped down from the bus to address her on a more level field so I wasn’t staring straight down her cleavage. As soon as I hit the ground and looked straight at her we both simultaneously realised the connection of some years before and her eyes softened and her lips parted in the most wonderful smile as we almost leapt to hug each other. Startled we stepped back and looked for some seconds before both of us burst out with laughter, questions, how long, how are you, where have you been etc etc etc.
It seems she had requested a posting here as she liked to ski and the proximity to the snowfields meant many teachers made the choice and did several years there and filled their weekends on the slopes in the season. She remembered I used to race in the school ski team when I was at college and we chatted about that until the students began to arrive and board the bus. Anyway with a firm, “don’t leave the magazines out for the kids to see” and a “lets catch up for a drink at the pub tonight” she twirled on those shapely little legs and I watched her sensational bum wiggle its way back into the grounds.
Well we met up later on, we talked for hours in the beer garden as the heat of the day dissipated and we cooled our thirst at least with many drinks from the bar. She had been at this school for the year, her second year as a full teacher and now by far her most enjoyable. She had been in a very serious relationship in her final year at college that lasted right through the first teaching year but ended badly & this had been a lonely year for her. I told her how we all used to lust after her in that heady final year some time ago and I do believe she blushed but it was so hard to tell as her skin was the most incredible honey brown under her crown of golden locks. I commented on her tan and she let slip that she did spend a bit of time in the sun and preferred to have an even colour, a comment I didn’t pick up on at the time.
I guess it was the drinks and the heat combined but by closing time we were both a bit affected and I noticed several times her hands would reach out and rest on mine as we gazed at each other and recognised the connection. We were leaving before she actually reached out and held my hand, ( I was younger and so unsure of her situation) and drew me to one side of the path to press her body against the warmth of the wall and turned her face to mine, lips parted, eyes closed and we kissed. 30 years later I can still recall that kiss, so soft, so very sensuous, so warm and for me at the time so very mature, lips, tongues and then her eyes opened as she drank me in.
“Quick” she said as we broke away, breathing a little laboured, “it’s so hot, let’s go for a swim in the river, leave your car and I will drop you back later”. And there in a heartbeat my summer changed dramatically as we piled into her little VW and rattled down the track to a pool in the river that in the daytimes might be crowded but on a sweltering midweek night it lay deserted before us.
I hadn’t even considered bathers until we arrived, I was going to wear my jocks but as I watched her walk to the water’s edge she slowly and so provocatively drew her dress over her head, reached back to unclasp her bra and let it drop with the dress and then hooked her thumbs into her knickers and slid them down her legs to then turn and face me as if offering herself or asking for approval in the light of the moon.
I recall being absolutely in awe, my fumbling’s with girls in university had never been like this, rather more furtive and far less attractive in hindsight. She stood before me as I approached and we slowly came together, well almost, my erection straining in my jocks causing a small obstruction. She laughed a deep throaty laugh that relaxed me somewhat and gently asked me if I was ever going to get ready for a swim or just stand there with goggle eyes and look. Quickly I jerked the jocks off and we raced into the cool of the water to swim across the stream and lay on the still warm sand of the far bank. I turned on my elbow and looked at her as we lay there and slowly leant over to kiss again, her hands on my shoulders pulling me to rest almost on top of her and those magnificent breasts.
It was a long night after that, we made love on the banks of the stream and then lay exhausted to recover all drenched in sweat before running into the water again to wash ourselves clean of the sweat and sand only to swirl together and couple almost weightless in the water before finally deciding to return to reality and get some sleep for another day.
Summer was a long series of sun drenched days after that, I was off university for almost three months and we were together nearly every night and any days off together we spent near the rivers around home. I learnt about her “all over tan” and spent hours lying beside her on a towel and marvelled at her body, so smooth and warm, the light golden fuzz of her pubic mound a source of constant attraction to me. I just wish she had been a bit more forthcoming with a warning about my own sensitive skin in the sun those first few times as I recall being almost crippled for a series of days after one long day naked outside.
She was good to me, and for me. And then one day I had to leave to return to university. We both knew it was coming and we had agreed not to talk about it. We both knew that our time was near an end, we had burned so bright, so hot for so many weeks on end and it had been the best time of my life. We had one more night out just before I left, we had promised not to be sad but we both knew that it would be the last time for us as we swam naked in the river and then made our way home to my little house on the hill to make love in that huge bed overlooking the mountains.
In the morning she was gone, quietly before the light had woken me she must had lightly let herself out and departed. I can only imagine how she felt but I do know how I was feeling as I packed my belongings that day and loaded my car to return to a life in the city surrounded by fellow students with whom I could not immediately relate.
I did see her again, once in the winter I was having a day skiing and again, quite by chance we jumped on the same chair on a chair lift to the top. We skied together most of the day and had lunch on the balcony of a chalet before rolling in the snow in a deep embrace, kissing and cuddling in front of curious onlookers. She told me she had cried for days after I had left but how I had been so good for her at a time when she was feeling very bad in herself after her breakup. She was now seeing a guy and was very happy with him and no he wasn’t here just now so I could relax. After that I never saw her again and I hope she did find her happiness as she had helped me find mine.