No one knows about us yet. Maybe no one should know about us.
Certainly, my mother would have a heart attack with the appearance of a good Catholic she likes to maintain in front of others, even if only superficially. If my mother knew I was dating my little sister’s teacher – she would probably beat me like the bad old days. She would probably also have Veronika’s head on a platter. Or as I like to call her Ms. Santos. Six years ago she was also my teacher.
I recently met with her on a Friday night to go out to a Happy Hour and let the night take us where it may. I entered the familiar 11th grade Biology classroom and it never faltered that I entered that room as if it were a church. I am presently a Senior at college and still it feels like yesterday when I would enter this room in torment. The minute I took a seat at the front of the class I felt captured by Ms Santos curves in that deadly tight pencil skirt, the accompanying stiletto heels and button white shirt.
That was then, and on this very recent day I cut the distance to where she stood, a tight-fitting dress of crushed velvet, high heels and fishnet tights.
She offered her dark gaze with a little smile. “Denise…are you here for some extra credit?” She welcomed me to her classroom like this when she wanted to be extra tempting. When I came close her hands fell to both of my hips, resting on the waist of my pants and pulling me closer. I submitted to anything she wanted and let her lead me anywhere. My own arms framed her waist and greeted her with a tender kiss. Still a secretive kiss in this classroom. We always played these edgy games of semi-pda in school grounds. I grinned and replied, “Are you ready?”
Her grin beamed and I took in how beautiful she looked, my beautiful goddess of a woman who I had adored during my student years. I still couldn’t believe the mysterious pull that had us here now.
And I also couldn’t believe something I was doing for her this evening. For you see, Ms. Santos had asked me a rather curious question not long ago.
—
“I don’t know if this is a strange question for you…but I’m curious about something.”
“Yeah…”
“So do you…pack?”
I almost spat out my Coke. Even though Ms. Santos had fully emerged herself in her bisexuality with me, I had not really expected her to be this deep into the ins and outs of sapphic sexuality. It did surprise me that day. I also knew this was really new for her because anyone in the community would take one look at me and would have known I didn’t pack. To heterosexual outsiders I looked manly. Looking closer I present real tomboy, with my gender neutral or sporty clothing. For me, I’m just a woman dressing and presenting in the clothes she is more comfortable in.
“Uh…no…”
My tone made her realize she had asked a somewhat inapplicable question of sorts.
“Oh, sorry…I didn’t know what, or who…you know.”
I grinned, “It’s not a big deal…”
A pause and then I looked at her curiously with a frown. “Did…did you want me to?”
“Oh, I’m just curious…it sounded…interesting, I guess”
“…you’re really curious, aren’t you?”
“Well yeah because you have used strap-ons so, I didn’t know if it translated.”
I cracked up at that. She looked perplexed at me.
“What…?”
—
And so back at the date night, when Ms. Santos snuggled me closer to her wearing that barely there velvet dress.
“Oh, you really are packing tonight.” A secretive smile appeared as I pressed even closer to her, teasing her thighs and pelvis. Surprised at how heavy her intake of breath sounded, and the little whimper that escaped with her sigh.
“And you really like this.” I grinned, looked at her flushed skin and her face with her lustful expression.
“Yeah…it reminds me of other things we do.”
My lips drifted over her jawline and connected with her throat. Hungry kisses traveled to her neckline, and her breath became even heavier. If we kept going, we would want to leave this classroom straight into a bedroom. Her arch against the classroom counter was beautiful.
“I’m really going to enjoy dancing with you packing.”
“Mmm…yeah?”
“Mmmhmm…How do you feel though?”
“Well…it’s not my style, it’s like…it’s a bit of fetish dress-up, I guess. But…” I kissed her mouth softly, my hands rubbing against that luscious swell of her ass. “I like doing it for you.” She grinned at this; I knew she loved when I pleased her. “And I also like having something that will remind you, how hard I get for you.” I saw this while grinding more against her pelvis. She closed her eyes with visible arousal and then grinned amused at my teasing.
“Good, I’m glad you are into it. Even if just for a few hours, if it’s too uncomfortable.”
“I chose a pair of pants that make it a bit easier.”
At this she chuckled and wrapped her arms around my neck, offering another kiss. I returned her kiss with smiling lips. When she parted with the kiss, her forehead touched mine and she hovered in this closeness.
“One of these days we are getting so caught.” I said with a low chuckle.
She chuckled as well, but then paused to add. “Do you care if we get caught? Do we have to care?”
That gave me a pause and I genuinely gave it a thought. We had been sneaking around to meet each other for most of the year during the weekend when I could pause my college studies. “I am a bit worried about my mother…” I really wish I didn’t have to remind her that she was still a teacher in my sister’s school. I had a feeling that this answer would disappoint her.
“Yes of course, and…you are an alumnus of my class. I guess it is still complicated.”
Even in this particular moment, hearing that she used to be my teacher stirred my need for her. I kissed her cheek. “How can I make it up to you, Teach?”
“Well. If we have to be in the dark, then let’s be…”
—Part 2 in Comments—-
[To Read the Prequel of Veronika and Denise – Read NYC Confessions](https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/new-york-city-confessions-aurora-rivers/1143168204;jsessionid=0C96F9B9B7C3F12142F45470ACA7A3E5.prodny_store01-atgap17?ean=2940167047204)
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/128u1q2/teach_part_1_fiction_f34_f22_teacheralumnus
[Part 2]
I remember those days as a student of hers when she would encourage me if I was down. I felt a rush of blood all over me even when she smiled at me. Even when she slightly patted my shoulder. One day Ms. Santos gave me a friendly hug to wish me a good spring break, and I know I melted into it. I wonder if she ever figured out why I held her a second longer. Maybe she didn’t notice back then.
I would have never imagined that same teacher would be with me at the club one night. Dark room, with red mood light and dry ice smoke. Her wallet and lipstick were in my pants pockets. Both of us holding a flute of champagne, hanging against a mirrored wall- and I swear, I thank God that bumping and grinding had been in fashion for some time. Ms. Santos had that luscious ass all over my pelvis like she invented making it clap in the 90s. The woman would have made millions as a stripper. I loved that I had some extra package to tease her with. She really was so much woman in one person- long hair, shapely legs and the curves of her breasts perky in a push up bra. At the end of her twerking she leaned all the way back against my chest and turned her head to the side to find my mouth. There I was with my teacher, hand around her waist, fingers aching to dip into her bra to squeeze her nipples. And Ms. Santos was there kissing me- french open mouth kiss, deep, breathing heavy and relaxing in my arms. Her ass pressed deliciously against my pack and my hips again- “You are going to put all that in me Baby?” — it may sound strange to anyone, but I loved her treating me like her man, her woman, her student and her lover all at the same time.
“Yes…”
She turned to face me and our legs laced together, thighs kissing and hips pressing as she undulated. It was the closest we had been in a public space.
“You are getting really hard for me Baby?” She speaks close to my ear.
“Oh yeah…”
I so wanted to reach between her thighs and fuck her right there on the dance floor. But I kept it legal for a few hours till we were ready to go.
—
(Part 3-in this thread)
Hey, I found this story to be an interesting trope, but I couldn’t get through it. Sorry :(
A new paragraph should be formed whenever a different person speaks. There should not be two different characters speaking in the same paragraph, or it’s confusing and hard to read.
I look forward to seeing your future works and hope that you will remember this :)
Wow what a hot story…. more please