Note: [Episode One](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/12980w0/i_m22_received_a_special_graduation_present_from/) | [Episode Two](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/12bt8g7/miss_haley_ep_2/)
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Miss Haley and I exchanged numbers after our “meeting” in the shed. It was a choice that I regrettably remember as the point where our relationship began to take a twist.
At first it was nice, you know? We had a very conversational and joking chat going on. My old teacher was so down-to-earth through text that she began to open up with me on a personal level. Miss Haley talked to me about her frustrations with the school administration. She gossiped to me about which of her fellow teachers were assholes, which were creeps, and the ones who had more personal problems than the students they taught. They all surprisingly lined up with my own opinion about them.
Then she divulged into her own marriage to Mr. Guthrie, and that was a pandora’s box that I really regret getting into. She revealed that their marriage wasn’t going too well after two years. That Mr. Guthrie was too controlling.
That surely didn’t surprise me.
Mr. Guthrie taught junior-senior AP Math and had a reputation for being a stern hard-ass. His early-40s and balding high-and-tight military haircut said that best, in my opinion. But it was Miss Haley’s venting that revealed a level of unhappiness I never knew she had.
She told me how she regretted marrying her husband. That beneath his own neo-1950s disciplinarian schtick, he was a miserable prick with a firey temper. That the soul reason she’s staying with her parents was they agreed to separate after he punched a hole in the wall during an argument.
I did my best to avoid giving my old teacher relationship advice, usually diverting it back to talks about my novel.
Then one evening, while I was in my room typing away at my manuscript, I received a text from Miss Haley. She told me her parents had left for the evening, and if I would like to come over for drinks, discuss my novel again, and maybe just hang out.
After the invitation, those first feelings of second guessing arose. But the allure of feeling what I experienced in that gardening shed became too much.
I moved downstairs, carrying my manuscript. My parents sat out in the front room. My dad watched TV, while my stepmother scrolled through the internet on my laptop. I walked right on by them and exited through the front door.
Miss Haley sent me a follow up text before I reached her. She told me to just walk in, that she’ll be down in the living room.
I entered her quiet house with the smell of linen and lemon in the air. She bid me deeper inside, and I walked around the corner to find Miss Haley sitting there in a silky pink tank top. She smiled as I entered, sitting barefoot in crotchless black panties. It was, well, let’s just say she seemed more ready for it than I was.
She walked me upstairs quickly. The silence of her parent’s house gave me goosebumps and excitement rippled over my skin. Never in my life have I been this close. Close to something that was out of reach of so many others.
Miss Haley took me into her old bedroom. The squeak of the hinges made my penis stiffen. It’s like my body knew. It could sense the lust and allure that had grown between us. It wanted more, and I couldn’t stop it. She had reeled me in.
We walked into a bedroom stuck in the late-90s and early-2000s. There were boy band posters on the wall. A box screen TV stood on top of a dresser. A bookshelf held a long line of DVDs. The one below it held a stack of CDs with a neon yellow stereo. The colors of the room were a mix of pinks and blues, bright and eye catching. She had a blue shag rug next to her bed. Miss Haley even had an inflatable pink couch in the corner.
We threw each other at ourselves almost immediately, kissing and caressing as we moved upon her bed. We were so caught up in that moment that my old teacher had to call time out, get up, and re-close her bedroom door. Her parents were still in Europe, she told me, but she just wanted to be sure.
Returning to the bed, I found myself between Miss Haley’s silky lined thighs. The sensations were incredible as I ran my right hand up and down her wrapped thigh. I stuck my other hand up underneath her tank top, softly cupped her breast, and mouthed it over the silky fabric. I then made a short and failed attempt at dirty talk, saying something along the lines of how her breasts felt like the most comfortable pillows in the world (face palm). Miss Haley couldn’t help but break out giggling. She then told me to “make love to them”.
I laid over my old teacher, feeling her legs loosen. Seconds later her warm stomach pressed up against my scrotum as I straddled over her. Miss Haley continued to stroke my throbbing erection. It ached in her hands as my knees propped up into the comforter and I put my hands on my hips.
I picked up a tiny bottle of lube and handed it over to Miss Haley. She popped the cap and rubbed her hands with it. She then pulled her breasts out from the tank top and dragged a line of lube across them. The glossy tone that shined off her breasts and wide areolas kept my cock stiff. Her hands returned to twisting and stroking. The shifting of her legs and knees tingled my underside.
I had to turn my head away. The visual stimulation was too much.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. I wanted more, but I feared the repercussions. I wanted to keep going, but I knew that things like this just didn’t end well. Yes, we were both adults. But what would the ramifications mean for both our families?
Miss Haley’s oiled hands continued to tug, twist, and stroke. The sensations flared and she pulled my hips forward into her breasts. My cock sandwiched up between her cleavage. The polished shine highlighted the tan lines where she wore her bra, and where the sun touched her skin.
I pushed my knees inward and began to hump my old teacher’s breasts. I mean how could I not? Four years ago, I was told good luck by her at the graduation ceremony. And here I was, four years later, frantically ramming my hips into her tits like a brainless hedonistic wild man.
I came hard and heavy between Miss Haley’s breasts seconds later. My erection felt like a pressurized fire hose spewing its swift steamy water for a second or two. The crease between her cleavage became thick with semen and pooled out at the base of her throat.
A gasp fell from my mouth afterward. Miss Haley tempted my sighs with soft moans, her hips humping the air behind me as I finished. I then collapsed off her in a hardy exhale, plopping beside my old teacher, and allowed the mattress to softly bounce.
The ceiling stretched out in front of me. My old teacher curled up next to me, rubbing my chest, and propping her right thigh over my leg. She crawled over my body and laid on her stomach atop me sideways. Her ass dimple pressed into my warm cheek. She clutched my half-stiff penis and began to suck me off the rest of the way. All I could do was lay there and feel my old teacher’s mouth swallow, suck, pull up, and push back down upon my cock.
There was something inside me that clicked at that moment. It was the same brief realization I had back in the shed. I began to look at things differently in the fuzzy ecstasy. The sensations were wonderful, but I began to see things from a birds-eye perspective.
This was all wrong, but I couldn’t stop it. It was the most satisfying feeling on earth, and yet this affair was bound to get exposed.
After we were done, Miss Haley told me she would text me later. We exchanged a departing kiss like a seasoned couple. She didn’t even bother to read my manuscript — or wipe away the splatter of cum between her breasts.
I then left, realizing where her mouth had been only a few minutes before.
I felt exactly like her husband, but just a little more worthy. There was a reason Miss Haley started this with me. It began with Mr. Guthrie — or so I thought.
To Be Continued.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/12fq5pm/miss_haley_ep_3