I [M] fucked a [F] student who was way younger than me /2

[OK, it’s VERY long. If you want the action, skip to the end]

After what happened, I didn’t meet Sam anymore. We saw each other at the academy and said “Hi” and smiled but never talked again.

I was a little bit ashamed, due the age gap and my role, and also worried about what could happen after. What if she talked to her parents about what happened or to my boss? After a week of tension, when no police officer knocked at my door, I started relaxing and took the episode as it was: a nice interlude in my life. I started dating, for the most part one or two night stands, nothing really serious, but I was having my part of fun.

After a little bit more than a month, I realized that I hadn’t seen Sam at the academy since a long time. I discretely walked by her class to check, but she was never there. So I asked to my colleague about, between a chat and the other, and she confirmed that she wasn’t attending classes, but that she had not asked (we usually call the parents, after a couple of time a student is missing, to check that everything is alright and that their are informed about) (yes, we’re fucking snitches, I know).

Time passed and one day I was in my class preparing lessons when I heard somebody calling my name. Sam was there at the door, smiling. She didn’t look great: she was pale and clearly tired as hell and her eye bags looked enormous.

“Hello stranger” I said, smiling at her.

“Hi. It’s been a while, isn’t it?”

“Indeed. How are you?”

She entered and sat on a desk, shrugging. “Had better days.”

“Want to tell me what’s happening?”

She told me she just was overwhelmed: she had to study a lot plus, after her parents divorce, her father moved in an apartment outside the city, so when she was with him she had to commute and lose a lot of time.

“I’m really tired” she said, scratching her eye. “I feel like a could sleep a month and still being tired.”

“I’m sorry for you. We are missing you, here around.”

“Yeah? All of you?” she asked, smiling.

“All.”

“OK. That’s nice to hear.”

“Is there something I can do for you, Sam?”

She looked at her feet, hanging from the desk, thinking.

“You could offer me a drink.”

I bit my lip and grumbled a little bit.

“You know…” I started.

“No, please. Just a drink, really, nothing else. I could need one of our chats.”

I looked at her and she smiled, nicely and exhausted.

“OK” I said, “but just a drink, deal?”

“Deal.”

“Very good. When?”

“This afternoon? Same bar than the last time?”

“It’s on.”

She jumped down the desk and we greeted.

I know what you’re thinking: you didn’t really think that it was only a drink. And, well, not really. I was thinking there could be a chance of a second round in the bathroom, but that, playing it smartly, I could avoid any “incident”.

Of course the funny part was that, as the hours were passing, I would move from “only a drink, she could be your daughter” to “well, maybe some kissing why not” to “oh my god, I’m going to burn in hell”.

When I arrived at the bar, Sam wasn’t there. I sat at my usual spot and she arrived after ten minutes, with a backpack.

“Hi” I said, happy to see her.

“Hi. Do you think it’s safe to hug?” she asked, laughing.

I stood up and we hug for a long time, before sitting and ordering something to drink. We talked about everything: my job, her studies, what we wanted to do in summer, movies we saw, music we discovered. She was nice and smiling, but I could feel her tense. At some point, when the conversation was slower I nodded to her backpack.

“What’s that?”

She gave a quick look and then looked at my with a guilty expression.

“The reason why I should apologize to you.”

“I don’t understand” I said, settling on the chair and starting to feel uncomfortable.

“My parents divorced because my father is in love with another woman. Well, frankly: my parents marriage was pretty horrible, so it wasn’t really a surprise, but anyway, you know, they’re your parents, they’re supposed to live happily nonetheless. The separation was not very violent, no screaming, no lawyers and fight to keep the house. Very civil and friendly. I dare to say they love more each other now that they are divorced than before” she added, before sipping her beer.

“Yes, it happens and, you know, is better this way. Maybe you don’t agree now, but…”

“Oh no. I agree. I agree, believe me. If they’re happy this way, it is fine to me.”

“But…” I said.

She smiled and passed her hand on her legs “But they’re my parents and they divorced and even if they are happier now, I’m not. My mother is doing, you know, Karen’s stuff: yoga, ceramic classes, out with her friends, I think she has a Tinder account. My father is so incredibly relaxed and happy, he lost weight, he’s going to art museums and parties and Jesus Christ can’t they at least fake some remorse, some pain?”

“With you?”

“Yes, with me. Julie, my father’s new girlfriend, lives with him and every time I’m at his place she’s there and she’s super nice. I love her, she’s perfect, I couldn’t complain. But it’s too much, OK? I’m happy that my father is happy. I’m happy that my mother is happy. But, at the same time, I’m sad that they’re not together and it’s like they’re trying really hard to show how everything is great now and I can’t stand it. I want my parents to show me that they failed their marriage and that sucks.”

“Sam, I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry. Have you tried to talk with them about this?”

“No. They’re happy and I don’t want to be a buzz killer.”

“I see.”

“But I did two horrible things.”

“What did you do?”

“Today I was supposed to go at my father’s. I told him that my friend Greta asked me to stay with her for a girls’ night and if I could skip this week father-daughter reunion.”

“Therefore the backpack?”

“Yes. And that’s the terrible thing number two: I told you I just wanted to have a drink with you but it isn’t true. I’m not going at Greta’s. I hoped to come at yours.”

“What the hell, Sam!” I exploded.

“I know, I’m sorry, I should have asked before.”

“And you know I wouldn’t have accepted.”

“Yes, I know. And I know I’m unfair, but I also thought that I’m hating my life now and that I like spending time with you and that I needed a night off.”

“Don’t you have friends? What about this Greta?”

“I have friends and they are wonderful. But they are, well, you know, young. They listen and say things and sometimes I miss someone with more experience that talks knowing what he’s saying.”

“And that would be me?”

“No, another person, but he was busy, tonight, so you’re my second choice. Well, honestly: the number five.”

I looked at her serious, then I laughed a little bit.

“You’re not going to save yourself with jokes.”

“I know. And if you say no I will go at Greta’s, no hard feelings. But I really hope that you will say yes, because I think that, maybe, due this period, I deserve to be selfish, for once.”

I’m smart enough to recognize daddy issues. I’m not smart enough to avoid them, apparently.

“Look, I don’t know. It’s a mess and you know it.”

“I know. Do you want me to promise you that nothing sexual will happen? Would it make you feel more relaxed about this? I’m not looking for sex, I can have plenty. I’m looking for a safe space.”

“Oh so you can have plenty of sex, now?”

“You can be worried about us having sex or you can be jealous about me having sex, but you can’t be both, teacher.”

“I hate you” I said.

“That’s not true.”

“No” I admitted smiling, “it’s not.”

I paid the bill and we went at my place, not far from there. When I opened the door, she entered in the living room and put her backpack on the couch. I suddenly realized how incredibly stupid I was acting: a 18-year-old girl in my apartment was in the top three of the stupidest thing I haver done, probably in second position (I’m still convinced that going to a 30 Second to Mars’ concert to shag a girl and ending the night without being laid is still a solid number one).

“Sam, I’m having second thoughts here…”

“For God’s sake, can you relax? Can you just enter, have dinner, watch a movie, make me feel like you’re happy to see me and don’t be an asshole?”

“Language” I said.

“Yes. Language. OK. Language. But nonetheless, can you? Pretty please?”

I sighed and closed the door behind me, hanging my jacket.

“Is there something you’re afraid that I can see?”

“Nothing. A part my comics collection. And my role-playing manuals.”

“Oh yes, I’m definitely turned on, now.”

“Shut up” I smiled, going to the fridge. “I didn’t expect guest, so I don’t know what we can have for dinner. Is there something you would like to eat?”

“Why don’t you make a pizza?”

“I can’t make a pizza.”

“You’re italian and you can’t make pizza?” she asked, incredulous.

“I’m italian, I can make pizza but pizza’s dough requires…” I sighed again and took my mobile “Let’s order some pizza.”

She sat on the dinner table and gave a look around.

“What do you have, against chairs?”

“So this is your place, uh?”

“Yes. This is the living room with kitchen corner. That door is my bedroom, that other one is my bathroom and that’s all. You won’t get lost.”

I gave her a beer and we toasted.

“Can I ask you one thing?” she said.

“Of course.”

“Are you still single?”

“I am. You?”

“Well. Fooling around. Some flings. A couple of ‘maybe he’s the one’ and then he wasn’t.”

“You’ll find it.”

“You can bet on it” she said, before drinking. “Did you tell anyone about what happened?”

I cleared my throat a couple of time.

“Not really. I just kinda said to my best friend that something happened, but I was not very specific. And you?”

“Yes. To Greta.”

“What did she say?”

“That you’re a pervert and that your place is in prison.”

“Yeah. Well. Strict but fair.” I said, because I didn’t know what to answer.

“Do you regret it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think about it this way. I mean: it’s a little bit like a dream, it happened and it was over very quickly…”

“I didn’t want to say it, but since you’re admitting it…” she said.

“Hey, lady, you didn’t last hours neither, did you?”

She laughed and I laughed back, then there was silence and I went to the kitchen, starting to take out cutlery and dishes.

“Teacher” she called me.

“What?”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

I sighed and looked at her, slightly in anger. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“It’s just a question.”

“And you know that the answer is of course I want. You’re a beautiful, smart, young girl, what do you expect me to answer ‘no, thanks, but can you pass me you mother’s Tinder account’?”.

“Ew.”

“I saw your mother, she’s quite beautiful.”

“Please, stop.”

“Can I have her number?”

“Asshole” she said, smiling.

“Language.” I said.

She put the bottle on the table and nod towards me.

“Come here. Please” she added, when I didn’t move.

I came closer and she caressed my beard.

“Sam…”

“You want to kiss me and I want it too. So let’s do it.”

“And after?”

“We’ll see after.”

So we kissed and it wasn’t very tender, but quite passionate with hands everywhere, tongue sucking, lips biting. She put her legs around my waist and I started undressing her. Her shirt was flying in the air, while she was licking my neck and I was fighting to unfasten her bra. Her tits were not really big, I started going down kissing her, until I arrived to her left nipple that I started sucking, feeling it hardening. Sam ran her hand through my hair and kissed my head.

“Yes, please” she whispered.

I kept sucking and licking, while with the hand I was playing with the other tit, pinching and pulling the nipple. She started undressing me and, looking at her young and firm body, I felt ashamed with my not so firm one. Not a dad bod, but my salad days were clearly over.

“Sorry…” I mumbled.

She passed her hand on my tattoos.

“I didn’t expect these.”

She kissed me again and unzipped my jeans, reaching my hard cock with her hand, caressing and gently squeezing it. She was wearing leggings and I started to rub between her legs from the outside, feeling her pushing her hip against my hand.

And that’s when my doorbell rang.

“Fucking pizza” I said.

“Language” she said.

I kissed her quickly and covered me with my t-shirt, opened the door, grabbed the pizza and sent the pizza guy as quick as possible. When I turned around, Sam was still on the table, but her leggings had disappeared. She held her arms out and I came back, leaving the pizza on the couch. We hugged and kissed and she took out my cock, rubbing it against her vagina, that I felt wet.

“You know, I have a bed…” I said.

“It’s a good thing. Now shut up.”

She gently drew me to her, I grabbed my dick and started pushing it inside her and starting to move slowly but steadily. Sam put her arms around my shoulders and her legs around my waist and moaned. I was feeling her soft skin under my hands and sucking her neck, biting it. She was quite tight and every thrust I could feel everything.

“Stop, stop, I don’t want to come too soon…” she whispered, but I didn’t stop.

I kept pushing and moving and touching her with my hands. When she came, she looked at me, her eyes wide open and scratched my arm with her nails. I slowly stopped, moving slower and slower and we stayed there, hugging, breathing heavily. I kissed her and pushed her hair from her face, she bit my earlobe.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“I am.”

She get off the table and turned around.

“You know” I said, “bed…”

She didn’t answer and leant over the table, showing me her ass, spreading her legs. I kneeled and started to lick her, piercing her with my tongue, tasting her and moving between her buttocks, rimming her. She kept moaning and grabbed my head and pushed it against her pussy, making me go deeper with my tongue, while trying to not suffocate. I gave all that I could for as long as possible, then I needed to breath and stood up. She looked over her shoulder, smiling.

“Fuck me again” she said.

I pressed my cock against her entered again, with a single, very strong push. She made little scream and bit her hand while I was fucking her quite roughly. I slapped her ass and loved the red signs appearing on her skin. I pulled her hair, to have a better grip and move deeper in her, while, with the other hand, I twisted her an arm behind her back. She moaned and she asked me to keep going and I started to fight the urge to come, so that this would last as long as possible. I let go hair and arms and concentrated on her ass, that I would stretch open and watch while my cock was rhythmically moving inside her. I spit between her buttocks and pushed my left thumb against the hole, slowly entering while I was still fucking her.

“Oh fuck yes!” she said.

That was too much for me, I quickly took out my cock and came on her ass and back, emitting a low moan. When my orgasm was over, I slowly hugged her from behind. We stayed so without speaking for a while, then she turned around and sit on the table, kissing me again.

“How do you say fuck buddies in French?” she asked.

“You don’t say it. We aren’t” I answered, smiling.

“No, we’re not.”

We dressed up and had our pizza on the couch, the TV on but talking about anything. We kissed a lot. I made her discover “Some like it hot”, she made me listen to “Hamilton”. We had sex again a couple of time, that night.

The morning after we left my apartment and had breakfast in a nice place I know. Nothing else happened between us, after this. I fought my desire to call her and she didn’t care or, maybe, she had to fight too. She finished her course in my academy and I don’t know were she’s now.

I always hope she’s happy.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/m3gqih/i_m_fucked_a_f_student_who_was_way_younger_than