How I [m] ended up fucking my teacher at the 20 years reunion

We all have these crushes that end up marking us for life. One of mine was my native language teacher; she came in the last year of highschool to replace the retired teacher we had until then. She was 5 years our senior, and she was far from perfect, but quite beautiful; a tall blonde woman with a beautiful smile, always wearing white, always stylish. I was in love, and I wasn’t the only one; half the class had a crush on her. Let’s call her Alexandra.

The most courageous of us actually asked her out; and at the ten-years reunion, which I missed on purpose, I found out that she was married to one of our colleagues from the same year. I laughed and moved on, but then a few years after that reunion I had the chance to work with my highschool on a hardware project, and I actually had a small discussion with Alexandra as well. She recognized me; I was never a gifted student when it came to languages, but she told me that she remembered her first teaching year vividly; and teased me about daydreaming during her classes. I confessed I was daydreaming about her, and she blushed. But our discussion finished there, and I went on to finish my job. I saw her two years later, passing by, in a promenade place in the city; she was walking with her children, and she saw me. She looked at me, blushed again, said nothing and we moved on.

I can’t say that going to the 20 years reunion was one of my priorities, but, honestly, I was eager to inspect my hardware project’s state there. Turns out that Alexandra was now the school’s vice-director, and she actually arranged the ceremony (there’s a bit of ceremony involving school reunions in my country). I „got away” from the main receiving room, and walked a bit around the school premises, when one of the guardsmen stopped me quite aggressively. But before he would call the police on me he called the senior staff member. Alexandra recognized me instantly, and calmed the guardsman down; then we walked around and she showed me the things I wanted to see, then invited me to her office.

„I wanted to take a break from the reunion, good thing I was around. I apologize for the guard’s behavior”, she said, as she asked for coffee to be brought to her desk. We discussed for a bit about the school, about how I felt that she was basically unchanged, and she challenged me on that. She took on a bit of weight, but I’m no ballerina either. She also looked visibly tired, the kind of „tired” that shows on your face and imprints forever. As the assistant (a guy in his late 20s) brought the coffee, we discussed a bit about life and marriages. She was married still, but she was happy to see her kids leave to study in a bigger town. I noticed her ring was missing, and she had a moment of sadness – she confessed that she was filing for divorce. She „stayed together for the kids” – but was seeing other people as well. She no longer blushed when I told her we all had a crush on her. She just looked at me, and told me flatly: „I know”.

There was something about this „I know”, with her looking straight into my eyes. It was loaded with a sort of reproach and hatred, and she continued a few seconds later to tell me that she had the feeling that she was a bit used; that her husband never actually loved her, but wanted to brag that he fucked the teacher and didn’t move on from that. I felt almost attacked and she apologized as soon as she realized what she said. She confessed that perhaps she was too harsh; they had ten happy years, but the last years were awful, and she regretted they had to stay together.

I was about to leave, as the conversation went dry, when she got a call. She told me to wait, as she went out for a few minutes, and I had time to look around. She actually kept a photo she had with my classmates, and as she came back, she told me that she really was touched by our invitation to have her in our class photo. I remember that one, she was the only teacher invited to join, and she looked like one of us.

———

She came close and I accidentally bumped into her. But as we bumped, she looked into my eyes (she was as tall as me), and said nothing. I looked back, a bit bothered, and then just leaned a bit to kiss her.

She responded to my leaning; our lips met, and I pushed her against the wall. She extended her hand and locked the door, as my hands raised her blouse and touched her body. I took a bit of time enjoying her kiss, while my hand raised up under her blouse and reached for the bra; but I couldn’t figure out how to undo it. No matter, as the kiss prolonged, and I pushed myself against her, she undid my pants, pushing them down to my knees. She grabbed my cock through the underwear, and rubbed it a bit; she then stopped kissing me and asked me if I had a condom.

She reached for her purse – she was always having a few with her. But as she reached for the purse I pushed her against her desk; took the condom, as I leaned against her, squeezing her against the desk. There was no time to undress; I pulled her skirt up, moved her underwear to the side, as I dry humped her a bit. She only said „fuck me” in a commanding voice, as I fought with the condom’s packaging, pulled my cock out my underwear, dressed it, and pushed myself inside her.

I wish I could say it was one of the most exciting sex experiences ever. It wasn’t. We had different rhythms, and I was lucky to wear a condom that felt a bit awkward – it took me longer to cum, and when I did she was trembling under me, asking for more. I pushed — forced myself a bit more, ruining my orgasm a bit, but she eventually came, with me struggling to muffle her moans. As I finished – my phone called. My girlfriend (I never married, nor do I intend to) was wondering where I was.

——–

At least there was nothing awkward about it afterwards. I fell on my chair, and she got up, put her clothes in order, and then sat on her chair as well. She said nothing, she was flushed, and took a bit of time to rearrange her hair. I waited for a bit – then dressed back. The condom, knotted, she took in a separate plastic bag she had around, as well as the foil.

Ten minutes later I left Alexandra’s office. One year later I came back to fix some issues on the old hardware project; this time, she took an entire afternoon for me. We went to her place, and fucked for hours like teenagers. She was thinner, and sex was quite a lot better; but forgettable, in the end. I very much preferred her 4 years ago, in her office, that awkward and strangely dissatisfying fuck, from two people who obviously had no instant chemistry.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/no21tm/how_i_m_ended_up_fucking_my_teacher_at_the_20

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