Sleeping with [M]y [Former] Student!

So I’m a teacher, and yes sometimes we think about our students, and sometimes our students think about us. This happened about 20 years ago when I was 35, and she was most certainly over 18.

Over the years there are students that stand out from the rest, for better or worse. Usually for the worse. Yet every so often there’s a student who you just click with, not necessarily on a sexual level but there’s chemistry, intelligence and a maturity that allows you to click. Alison was one of those students. Smart, cute and was confident enough to chat with me and see past the disciplinarian who only gave out homework.

I teach in a private school, so class sizes are smaller, and everyone has more time to get to know everyone. A relaxed environment would describe the school best.

20 years ago I wasn’t married. Didn’t have kids. 30 years ago I taught Alison, and was a new teacher who landed on his feet in a good school. There isn’t much to say about when we both were in school apart from there being a friendliness, and the age gap wasn’t huge. 10 years or so? There was friendly flirting but nothing sordid. Those details are coming right up.

[Fast-forward 10 years]

I’m at a teaching conference at the other end of the country for a few days. Usually the best part of these events is to catch up with friends who have been scattered far and wide. However who do I bump into at the bar that first night?

Alison.

She had certainly grown up. Long red hair, tied into a poneytail. Piercing blue eyes, dimples that filled my dreams for many nights over the previous 10 years and the cutest smile I’ve ever seen. She was a shortass though, and I’m 6ft3.

Alison had become a teacher.

As I was at the bar ordering a drink, I felt a tap on my shoulder and a familiar voice “Guess I shouldn’t call you sir anymore?” she teased. “I suppose I should insist on Robert really?”. We catch up for a few minutes until the room looks like filling up and I suggest we move away from the bar and find a table to sit down at.

She really looks incredible. I’d be lying if I hadn’t thought about her and her uniform over the years some nights. It was the mental as much as the physical that I found attractive, and the way she always chewed on her lip.

One drink turned into two, which turned into about six or seven. A few friends came and left our table during the night but we talked and talked until the bar was closing up for the night. With the following day being the busiest in terms of schedule, most people had gone to bed.

Alison had arrived late, and left her luggage in her car to make the conference in time. She was sharing with another teacher in her school so didn’t have to worry about checking in. I offered to help her with her bags and we headed out into the car park behind the hotel.

It was almost a cliche but the moon was shining brightly and despite being tipsy managed to find her car. As she opened up the car I pulled out her bag and she blurted out “I missed watching those arms”. At this point I should point out that at 6ft3 my arms and legs have always been the size of treetrunks, helped by working out every so often.

There’s a pause. A pause as we look at each other in the moonlight, as I drop her bag on the ground. “It’s not all I’ve missed.” We find ourselves edging closer and closer. Then in a moment of drunken lust we lean in and our tongues have turned into deep cave divers as our lips lock. As we embrace I lift her up onto the back of the car so we’re almost at the same height.

After what felt like an hour but must have only been a few minutes we pull away momentarily. At this point we both realise how much we need each other right here and now. As we kiss again my hand runs down her leg, and up her thigh. She’s already pretty wet and and after a minute of two of my fingers slipping inside and she’s soaking.

There’s a brief discussion about where we’re going to do it, and after trying to get me into her backseat unsuccessfully (Seriously being 6ft3 isn’t always fun) we settle for her car bonnet. Pulling down her jeans, having already undone her zip I bend her over th bonnet of her car in this car park only illuminated by the light of the moon.

Sliding myself right inside, there’s an audible gasp and I move to cover her mouth which only results in both of us giggling, before I start to fuck her with serious gusto. That’s right no condom. We were drunk it was a bad choice. We got lucky. I only lasted about two minutes before I exploded inside her, which was greeted with further stifled moans.

After a few more minutes we regain our composure and I offer to take her back to my room for the night. She agrees and we do it twice more that night, plus the following morning.

It was quite the conference. A conference I don’t really remember learning much at. Alison ended up moving to England for a few years and in the mean time I met a girl, got married and had kids. Yet every so often I still think about her, and that night, and that conference.

It’s not every teacher can say that thy fucked a former student!

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/98asdl/sleeping_with_my_former_student