My professor-student fantasy fulfilled Ep. 1 [Real story] [MF] [Female POV]

I’m a 28F and I first met him when I was 12 in my second year of high school, his first year as a literature teacher. He was the cool, young, handsome teacher all girls were crazy about. I was the quiet student with not many friends, an avid reader and a regular in school’s writing contests. So we had a good teacher-student relationship. He would gift me books and encourage me to keep writing. But nothing else, of course. Nothing remotely sexual ever happened while he was my teacher.

He left my high school after only one year. After that I never thought much about him, but I’d see his books in my bedroom and remember him fondly. If someone asked me about my favourite teacher, I’d always say him.

Jump a few years and I was now 19 and studying journalism in university. I’ll never understand why, but one night while I was home laying in bed, he appeared in my mind and I wondered what would he be up to now. Maybe I was bored, maybe I was tired of dating immature teenagers, but suddenly I was decided to find him. I guess the investigative challenge excited this second-year journalism student, so I opened my laptop and set on the task of finding a way of contacting him. I knew his name and surname, it couldn’t be that hard. I didn’t find him on Facebook though, or any other social media, so I kept looking, hopeful that his name would appear in some research paper. After a few hours of searching, there he was. And next to his name… an email address. Apparently now he was a professor in a university in my city (not the one I attended). I felt like Mr. Robot and Indiana Jones put together.

I emailed him immediately. I titled the email “A letter from the past”. I was going to show off my best writing skills and hope that he remembered me as fondly as I remembered him.

I didn’t have to wait for long. He answered the next day and yes, he had immediately recognised my name. Many students had contacted him over his years as a teacher, but it was the first time a former student had found him after so long. He suggested what I hadn’t dared mention: to meet for dinner and catch up on the past six years of our lives.

We met a few weeks later and I was buzzing with anticipation. Excited but very nervous too. I chose a summer blue dress for the occasion, the perfect balance between suggestive and candid. While I waited outside the cozy cafe he had chosen for our reunion, I wondered how different would he look. He was in his thirties when he was my teacher so he must be getting close to his forties. A twenty years gap…

But this was just a reunion between a student and her long-lost high school teacher. Nothing else. Why would he be interested in me anyway?

As my mind was racing and my pores exuding nervousness, I saw him walking towards me. It was definitely him, he hadn’t changed a little. His hair was much shorter now, but that was about it. He was wearing a white linen shirt. As bohemian as ever.

We looked at each other and we hugged awkwardly. The next few hours at the cafe followed the same pattern. The low-light, relaxed atmosphere definitely didn’t match my behaviour. I wanted to be interesting, mature, someone who had awesome topics to talk about.

The beer helped smooth things out, and the evening at the cafe became a walk under the city lights on our way to an Italian restaurant. Loosening up more and allowing the conversation to flow, the connection between us was starting to manifest. We were crossing the bridge together to a new chapter in our unlikely story. From teacher-student to equals, friends… and maybe something more.

But my lack of self-confidence didn’t allow anything else to happen that night. When I went up to his apartment that night, the only thing I left with was a couple of books and a throbbing clit.

We said we would meet again, and I was decided to not let my mind get between us a second time. The next time we met, I knew how I wanted the night to finish. The crochet short dress I chose this time had a job: to leave him no doubt of my intentions that night. As I walked towards him, I knew what he was seeing. The fabric adapted and highlighted the shapes of my hips, my round butt and my breasts. The knitting allowed bigger gaps between stitches throughout the dress, revealing to the vigilant eye the gap between my thighs and the pattern of my underwear.

The look we gave at each other this time was different. And so the soiree began. I allowed the sexual tension to build up more and more throughout the evening. He took me to a cinema-inspired cocktail bar that would became my favourite in the city. A monument to our story. I’ll never forget the waves of anticipation, air heavy with sexual tension, pink low light glowing, movies industry equipment and memorabilia all around us. And a sex on the beach that never tasted better.

When we couldn’t hold the build-up any longer, we walked to his place. He played the sad, techno music we both love, sat on the sofa and looked at me as I pretended to inspect his brimming bookcase. It was time. I took off my shows and slowly walked towards him. I sat on his lap, one knee to his left, one knee to his right, our eyes facing each other. My dress stretched by my flexed open legs. I lifted it up and took it off, revealing the underwear he had been peaking at the whole evening.

I saw the tension release from his eyes. I had finally given him permission. He took off my bra and sweetly but firmly started to lick my nipples, making me twitch with his every move. I could feel his penis now fully grown against my panties. And nothing drives me crazier than that. I pressed my body harder against his, my clit aching more and more, begging me to take off my soaked underwear and dive in.

I lifted my body up and he didn’t need an indication, slid my panties down my legs with both hands and sat me back again, this time his pulsing dick inside me. Holding each other in a desperate embrace, I fucked him as hard and as deep as I could, letting my rhythm adapt to the music, feeling him inside me as I contorted my hips. I was lost in the pleasure and the music, feeling free and unconstrained as never before. Finally, I angled my body back so I could feel his penis brushing inside me while I touched my clit in a frenzy. He suddenly grabbed my butt with both hands and closed his eyes and I knew he was going to come. Seeing his face grimacing with pleasure sent a rush of excitement across my body, a lightning shot from my clit to every other part of my body throughout my nervous system. He came in a scream as strength leaked out of my legs and my vision blurred. I closed my eyes, rubbing my clit as the darkness became shadows of light, blue, red and purple.

Unable to hold my own weight anymore, I let my body fall on top of his, my cheek in his shoulder.

We then went to bed, slept together and I left after having nutella toasts for breakfast.

It was the beginning of a story full of ups, downs, periods of distance and others of intense passion. But more than anything else it was a fantasy fulfilled: fucking my high school teacher. He went on to get married, I got into a long term relationship… our convoluted story didn’t end there though, time and time again we seemed to always find the way back to each other. There are still a few crazy chapters to be told, so if you guys liked this one let me know in the comments and I’ll carry on with the story.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/le7hxw/my_professorstudent_fantasy_fulfilled_ep_1_real