Your erotic stories

My son is in the 2nd grade and his school was having their teacher/parent conferences. For those who might not know it is where parents are invited to spend twenty to thirty minutes talking with their son or daughter's teacher about their progress during the year. Now my boy is a good student and we hadn't received any complaints from the school so our conference was a formality at best. Knowing this my wife didn't reschedule her yoga class and opted to miss it.

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During my final year of high school my English teacher, Miss Jacobs, became pregnant. This alone is not so remarkable. The problem, however, was that Miss Jacobs was a miss and not a missus. Once the members of the school board found out about Miss Jacobs' pregnancy she was given the option of pregnancy leave (firing her was only an implied threat), after which she was shunted off to another school. Those who banished her probably thought it magnanimous of them to not sew a red A to her blouse before sending her off.

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Public School had ended on Thursday of last week so on Monday morning Robin slept in. After finishing her junior year at the top of her high school class her mind needed a break. Many hours of reading, studying, doing web searches had cooked her brain and now it needed a rest. She heard her mother making noises around 7AM as she prepared herself for work. Her mother had divorced her father around five years ago and had worked herself up from teller in the local bank to an account representative.

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My favorite teacher was my math teacher, Mrs. Gibson. She was in her late thirties, a wife and a mom, but man, was she sexy! She had long full blonde hair, a pretty face, was average in height, and had big tits. Like most of the teachers she dressed casual more than she dressed up, but whatever she wore, it was hard to hide her hot body. I wasn't much of a math student, and since I had math my last class of the day, I spent most of the period staring at Mrs. Gibson and having fantasies about her.

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It wasn't until that very moment that the full gravity of the nation's economic downturn hit Lisa Ross. The newly hired Vice-President of marketing at an upstart South Florida publishing company, the previous handful of jobs Lisa had, air travel (usually first class) had been the mode of choice. Now she found herself seated and staring out the window of an Amtrak train as she prepared to embark from Miami to Washington, D.C. for a weekend conference.

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Alison May sat in her classroom, her delicate fingers tapping on the processed plastic-for-wood top of her desk. She had watched thousands of students sit in their rows as she droned the same information to them year after year. She watched them fix their eyes on the clock above the chalkboard, trying to mentally will the hands of the timepiece to move faster. This desperate act of telekinesis was a common one around the world, and she believed that it wasn't wholly unjustified on their part.

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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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I don't know how I get myself into these situations. As a new teacher, I expected that I'd get the shitty jobs around the school. One of those shitty jobs turned out to be chaperoning a herd of seniors on the school's weekend ski trip. There were four teachers in all trying to keep 45 kids in line. Well, I guess they weren't exactly kids - most of them were 18, which is the legal drinking age here in Alberta.

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Miss Annabelle Nella was a high school teacher who really enjoyed her job and loved teaching her senior class. It was, for her, great to give all the students one last piece of education before sending them off to college, where many she hoped, would make something of themselves and enter the real world off to a great start.

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