Your erotic stories

I was thirty when it happened. I fell in love. She was perfect. She was everything I could have ever wanted in a mate; beautiful, smart, funny. She wasn't bitter though she did have quite a temper. She was determined and goal oriented. She had a cute face and a banging body, though she didn't realize she had either. That was probably because she was young. She was very young, and she was my student. I guess I need to start at the beginning. My name is Kenneth Ellerson. I teach higher math, and coach JV and Varsity Girls basketball at a coastal Georgia high school.

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"Paging Miss Summers. Miss Summers, please proceed to the General Office." The bleep of the PA system sent a spark of excitement – or was it relief? – through me. It was the third day of the open house for Junior Colleges, and this was the first time that I'd been beeped to meet with a student or parent.

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She always said there was something special about me. I never thought I'd find out what she meant. Her name was Alexis Johnson. She was my high school science teacher and I'd always had the hots for her. The chick was absolutely gorgeous. She was about 5'5" with light brown skin and a smile that could draw a grin from a failed suicide attempter with diarrhea.

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Christian sat in the back of the class, his eyes glued to the back of his teacher's skirt. She wasn't really his teacher, just a substitute. Every once in a while one of his normal teachers would be out sick, or take a personal day, and nine times out of ten he'd walk into the classroom and there would be Miss Anderson. Sometimes one of his buddies would have her in an early class, and they'd let him know at lunch what he would be looking forward to.

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Summer classes had always been a drag for me. The students were always more captivated by the rays of sunlight crashing through foggy classroom windows than with my explanations on how context was one of the most important aspects to master when translating a literary work. And more often than not the students were as fogged up as the windows were as they fought off the haze of the previous night's partying. Not that I blames them -- there were still parts of my early days attending university that were a blur.

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