Your erotic stories

Every one knows that high students often have crushes on their teachers, especially if the teacher is not bad looking and is sympathetic to their adolescent problems. And the crushes can go both ways, even all three ways. Female students may have a crush on their male teachers. Male students may have a crush on their female teachers. Or even a student of one sex may have a crush on a teacher of the same sex.

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"God I need a cigarette!" I gasped as I collapsed, exhausted, at the top of the small mountain my team had just hiked up in the Lake District. "You're supposed to be setting us a good example." Khalid laughed as he flopped down next to me quickly followed by his two schoolmates. "Fu...To Hell with that!" I laughed, "I deserve one after a walk like that."

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"That's her. Check it out. Wow," whispered Billy Sherman's buddy. They were at the town bar that they had been going to since before they were legally allowed to drink. And there, at the end of the long bar, not far from the door, sat Sue Lockhart, the middle school gym teacher.

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Average, that's pretty much how I saw myself. Brown hair, brown eyes, busty for sure, but could stand to either lose 20 pounds or grow 4 inches. Nothing particularly remarkable about me but what I lack in the supermodel, standard cutesy looks department, I probably make up for in personality. Great. Just how every woman wants to be described: "she's not really pretty, but she's got a great personality!" Whatever.

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Caitlyn Morris held her boyfriend's hand for moral support as they made the long trek up the aisle to his teacher's desk. If this talk didn't go well, Bobby would be benched Friday night—the one night the college scout would be watching the game. Bobby didn't have a lot of options, if he didn't get recruited, he could kiss college goodbye. And with it any hope of getting out of their all-but-dead hometown.

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Note: this story carries on directly from Wrong! To have any idea please read that first. As always thanks for reading!! ***** My wife Sophie and I sat in the taxi home with my little sister Beth. We had a great meal with our friends Ken and Meg. Sophie had warned Ken off Beth by lying that she was only sixteen. Ken being Ken, though, that hadn't really been a problem and it had been hilarious watching him flirt with her. Sophie had even faked jealousy that Ken was paying all the attention to Beth.

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Lisa was nervous. Her last test had come back with a multitude of red marks all over it and a big fat F in the corner. If she failed her algebra class, she would have to go on academic probation, and her GPA might even lower enough that she would lose her scholarship and have to drop out - she couldn't afford the college's exorbitant fees without help, and her parents didn't have any money to pay toward her tuition. She shuffled from foot to foot, dancing nervously on the spot outside her professor's office, waiting for him to invite her inside.

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Sarah sat and looked out the wide, fourth floor window of her Geography classroom and frowned at the gathering gloom. It really was getting dark now that it was mid way through October and she gave a little shiver as she turned back to her class. What a strange day it had been. The Headmaster was away on holiday, the deputy head had been forced to go home early with severe stomach cramps and the janitor was on his annual leave, so here she was with the keys to the school and when this after school detention period was over she would check the building out and lock it up for the night.

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I think it must have been some kind of temporary insanity. What other way is there to explain where I found myself that day? Driving in my car, naked from the waist down, not knowing exactly what was going to happen when I reached the address that was written on the paper lying on the seat between my bare legs.

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It was four months until the end of my senior year, and I had struggled all year to keep my moderate grade average up. I really loved all my teachers, but one made me furious. Mr. Davis was always writing comments on my exams about how I should know this, correcting all my spelling errors with bright red ink on my essays, and he would make comments to me while handing back my test like, "You need to study Miss McCall." No matter how hard I tried, I could never be good enough. I needed to pull this grade up if I had any chance of getting into the college of my choice.

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