To Teacher with LoveShe had cried herself to sleep on two…

To Teacher with Love

She had cried herself to sleep on two valentine’s days now. She doubted this one would be any different. For two years she’d had him as her English teacher and for two years she’d spent valentine’s day alone dreaming of being naked in his arms.

She’d always liked English as a subject but when he walked in the schoolroom, the subject came alive for her as he explained the hidden corners of the language she thought she knew and taught the genius of the authors she had always considered boring. And the more she liked the class, the more she liked her teacher. When he wrote “Very good” on an essay, she blushed with pride that he had complimented her. Soon, she hung on his every word and the other classes were just a boring distraction between her English lessons.

When her interest turned sexual, she didn’t recall, but soon she would play with herself under the covers late at night while she thought of what it must be like to be in his bed instead of her own. Then she took chances that no one would ever have thought a shy bookworm like her would take. She’d sit at the front of the class and let her skirt ride up under her desk, then she’d cross and uncross her legs so that he could see the tight white panties which hugged against her, showing the outline of her pussy lips.

She wasn’t entirely sure he would see this blatant display but she finally caught him throw a glance in her direction as she opened her legs wide for him to enjoy the show she was putting on. Then she would write assignments which became more and more about what she really wanted. She’d write about relationships about younger woman and older men. Make references to Nabokov and Lolita. Write about the taboo of teachers having affairs with students and how the students could be enriched by these experiences.

She’d wait excitedly to get her assignments back and read his comments. At first he wrote harmless things like “Well thought out and insightful”. Later he wrote seemingly innocuous lines such as “Society frowns on such relationships and imposes prison sentences to emphasize that.” But she knew he was really sending her a message. He was telling her that as a teacher he couldn’t lay a finger on her.

Unperturbed, she wanted to show him she was deadly serious. Sitting again at the front of the class, she open her legs again to show him her panties clinging to her pussy lips only this time she’d be thinking about him with his cock in her and her panties would not only be visible for him but also soaking wet around her tingling pussy. More comments came back on assignments: “I am enjoying the forceful point you are making in your arguments.” More code, she’d didn’t doubt it. Soon she was sitting at the front of the class with her legs apart and the panties were gone. Instead she put her her naked, shaved, glistening pussy on display for him. She saw him glance in her direction and opened her legs just a little wider. It was her way of telling him ‘look at this tight little virgin cunt all wet and ready just for you’.  She could tell he was flustered. He lost his train of thought and mangled his words as he paused momentarily and tried to pick up the thread of what he was saying.

And then she graduated. She had tried everything but to no avail. The last day of high school was a bittersweet affair. She was moving on and he would no longer be her teacher. And then it was valentine’s day again and she knew she’d think about him for the whole day and the missed opportunity they had.

She was wondering where he was when she got the text that changed the whole day. “Would you come to my home?” She threw some excuse at her parents why she had to rush out and why she had to borrow the car, but every lie was worth it when she knocked on his door and he opened it. No sooner had she stepped inside than his hand was in her panties and his lips were on hers. Maybe she’d acted like a whore in class but in the end, it was worth it.