Your erotic stories

College classes are bad enough without falling behind. Between the sheer volume of classes and my work obligations that barely covered my living expenses, it was inevitable that something would give. Biology became the threatened species of my class load. Mrs. Gail Hannity was my Biology instructor. Smart, precise, and really quite beautiful, it was entirely possible that she was a major contributor to my in-class distraction.

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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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When I was fifteen, my parents enrolled me in an SAT prep course hoping in their usual Asian fashion that it would help me achieve the score necessary to give them bragging rights over their other Asian friends' kids. Personally, I thought this was going to be the biggest waste of time, but as with many things in my pre-college life, I did as my parents ordered, realizing it was useless to fight.

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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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"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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It's snowing out and you're in the computer lab locking up at the end of your office hours. Your last student just left. It's dark outside and you're worried about driving your new car in the snow. You're also distracted because your favorite student blew off his study session. You wait until like 8:30, and say "Fuck it, I'm going home." Just then the door swings open and he walks in, covered in snow.

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“Okay guys. It’s time to finish what you’re doing and start tidying up.” I called to the six young guys in my decorating class. “Conner, I’m going to the staff room to get changed, so you’re in charge. No messing around, you lot! I need to be out of here in 30 minutes.” I’m a part-time leader for a Community Programme. The kids (usually 18 to 20 year olds) come to us for six months at a time to learn basic skills like joinery, brick laying, mechanics, or, in my case decorating.

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