School Teacher

PShriya is my 12th standard crush. She was our lab assistant in the physics lab.

It started when she finished her MSc and joined our school to start teaching. Since she was so young and without experience, her job was to help students in the lab.

One day as we entered the lab, our teacher introduced us, “This is Shriya ma’am. She will issue your apparatus, sign out, and sign back in everything you use.”

I didn’t care much for the lab work and tried to sneak out when I noticed Shriya closely. She had thick silky hair in a loose bun, no makeup, big eyes, sharp features, and a model’s figure, 34-28-34 and about 5 and a half feet tall. I had an urge to check her out. So I went to get a burette issued.

Interacting with her, I was attracted to her dreamy voice and smooth golden complexion. Under her right wrist was a tattoo of something in running script. She was so pale-skinned that I noticed the tattoo from across the room. When I got closer, she was helping another student and bent over the table facing me.

Her loose white shirt under the half sleeve lab coat was showing her chest clearly. I saw a skin-colored lace bra and got an instant erection. Her juicy pouting lips were meant for blowjobs.

“Monu, don’t forget to return everything before the recess, ok?” she said in her sexy voice, and I rushed off to the toilet to masturbate.

After some days, she pretty much knew that I was hitting on her and let me have a reward once in a while. Once just before winter break, I was sitting in the lab, stealing glances at her. She turned around and removed the pin holding her thick hair bun.

I saw the most amazing silky dark brown hair fall till her back and straighten itself as if it was never tied, the scene was like a heavy curtain falling. I had to jerk off twice that evening.

After the exams, the only time I got enough courage to compliment her was when I went to get my college leaving certificate. My eyes were searching for Shriya. I knew that the chances of her being present on that day were slim since she wasn’t an actual teacher.

I was going home when I saw her in the corridor, and my heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t in her usual salwar kameez and lab coat but a brown saree. The cotton saree was tightly wrapped on her body and looked like it might slip off her body at any moment.

I got a glimpse of her belly button through the translucent material, and a gap in her pallu showed just a tiny peek of her waist. The blouse she wore had almost full sleeves with a narrow neck showing very little of her golden skin, leaving the rest to my vivid imagination.

The most striking thing was she had cut her hair in a blunt cut till mid-back and colored it deep black. The best compliment I could think of before walking those 10 feet was, “Hi ma’am, your haircut is looking good.”

She blushed and smiled at the naughty compliment. Without much talk, she gave me a handshake and said in her stylish manner, “Thank you, Monu, and best of luck for your future plans.” In that brief moment, I saw her full beauty.

Her eyes were with a hint of mascara and lips with a touch of gloss. Her inner ear was pierced with a gold stud, looking very sexy. A couple of my class girls came to us and wished her. One of them asked the question I had never been able to ask, “ Ma’am, what does your tattoo say?”

“Oh, this?” Shriya smiled and displayed her slender hand with the tattoo writing under her wrist to about 6 inches across. “It’s in Tulu, it means love.”

I walked away, knowing that I would probably never see her. I took one last look at her back, her swaying figure, and that black curtain of hair that I so badly wanted to touch.

Four years and three breakups later, I was not a virgin and studying hotel management in Manipal. I had taken up exercise and turned into a gym boy. With my reddish skin and height of 6 feet, I could have my way with many girls in college.

I parked my motorcycle and started to go up the huge staircase of our college when I saw her. It was definitely her, wearing tight three-quarter jeans and a white shirt with frilled sleeves. Looking very stylish in big sunglasses.

Her dark brown hair was cut till her tits and had waves with ash color highlights. She still had the same stats, but little body fat was making her look like a sex bomb.

Coupled with the dark maroon lipstick, a full makeup extending to nail paint on her toes and smooth milky legs completed her look. Her hair was bouncing as she was quickly climbing the stairs. I caught up with her and called out.

“Ma’am!”

No answer.

I tried again, “Shriya.”

She turned and looked at me without recognizing at first. Then she said loudly, “Monu!” and smiled, showing all her teeth, “How are you? It’s so nice to see you.”

I was one step below her. She tried to give me a light, formal hug but ended up giving me a full embrace with her boobs in almost in my face. I, on the other hand, could not properly hold out my hands. I had to hold her waist in case she bends too much or slips from the stairs above.

For a moment, I could smell her sweet perfume and feel her soft hair on my cheek. She was saying something in Tulu, then excused herself, “Oh, sorry, you are not Kannadiga. Ok now tell me how to register for classes,” saying she led me to into the building.

She was married for the last three years, and her husband had recently moved to Manipal as faculty. She was still applying for jobs and wanted to do a culinary diploma in the gap period. At 26, she was looking great, younger than some of my classmates, and this time I told her candidly.

She blushed a little and said,” “You’re still after me, silly?” and showed her pretty hand with the ring finger. I asked, how did she know I was chasing her? She said it was plain and clear from the beginning that I had a huge crush on her. “To be honest, I liked the attention you were cute and funny.”

We exchanged contacts and split up.

The next morning she called to ask a classroom number. She was in one of the optional classes with me. I wore a bit of cologne, just enough to be noticed without standing out. She was wearing formal grey trousers and full sleeves shirt. Her beautiful assets complimented even the most boring clothes!

We sat next to each other in class. She wasn’t the shy type and easily moved closer, whispered in my ear, “You smell sweet, like a fruit.” I told her it’s Dior. Her soft body squeezed against felt wonderful, and her smell was making me horny.

The class ended after a long lecture, and we walked out. I asked her for coffee, and she said, “Are you asking me out?” And laughed, “Not today, but I’ll call you tomorrow evening, ok?” and left me guessing about her plan for tomorrow.

The next day was Friday. It was almost 7 pm I got restless and gave up waiting for her call. As I was about to leave my apartment and hit the bar, a text message from her, “Monu, come to my place. We’re having a party.”

I was surprised, why would she call me home? Anyways I got dressed in a tight black shirt, linen blazer, and jeans. Then followed the GPS map to reach her house. It was a lavish villa with a fountain in the garden.

Shriya was looking gorgeous in a long aquamarine skirt and a white flowery lace top. She had long ear jewelry and very light makeup. Her inner ear stud had been replaced with a shining stone. Her hair was in perfect thick beach waves.

“You shouldn’t actually come on time for a cocktail party,” she said, holding my hand and walked inside. There were people arranging decorations. She told me it’s her husband’s business get-together.

He taught business subjects and had these parties to socialize with business people. He had stepped out to get some booze for the party.

I noticed her thick eyebrows that I saw this morning were plucked too thin lines and commented on it. “Ahh, I was going to fix them,” she said, walking towards a room. I took a beer from the ice bucket on the dining table and started looking at my phone.

“Monu, you can come here,” she called out. I went to the room and saw her in front of the mirror, shaving her eyebrow from the middle of the arch to the corner, then repeated the other one. Then she colored both with a pencil to make perfect high arches. She turned around for approval.

“Wow, Sexy!” I said as my dick started rising. I took a step closer and suggested her to trim her sideburns. “You think so?” she said as if agreeing already and gave me a mustache scissor to trim. I trimmed an inch on both sides.

Not satisfied with the stubble, she took out a razor and shaved off both sides. My cock was standing at the full monty, and she looked directly at it without saying anything. I took it that she must be quite used to making people horny by her presence.

Next, she surprised me and asked me to check her cheeks. Obviously, there was only one way to check by running my hand across both sides. Her skin was soft and smooth. It felt really good touching her face. I could smell her body from close quarters.

She was standing with her shoulder touching my chest, her hip bumped into me, and I wrapped my free hand on her waist.

We heard the doorbell and returned to the living room. Shriya’s husband was a jolly fellow of 34, with a stocky build and broad shoulders. He stood a couple of inches shorter than me, wearing a smart navy blue suit. He greeted me in a hurry, “Hi, Monu, right? Looking sharp, I’m Sandeep, call me Sandy.”

I smiled and shook his hand, “Good to meet you, sir.”

As we walked out, people started coming, and the party was at full swing. After a while, I came across Shriya and asked her what she had told Sandy about me.

“Everything,” she said, laughing, “He thinks you’re like my BFF now.”

“And he’s cool with me?” I asked suspiciously.

“Yaa, wait here. I’ll get the food out,” she said, leaving me with my thoughts.

Something is missing, I thought to myself. As the night progressed, I saw many hot girls, but none was as enticing as Shriya, with whom I had no hopes… yet

I had a few snacks and walked to the fountain. Shriya was sitting on its edge with her feet crossed and dangling. She was looking tipsy, with a glass of rose wine in her hand. She introduced me to some ladies who later left to get some food.

I sat next to Shriya and asked her how many drinks she had. She said just 2, told me to relax and put her hand under my arm and squeezed it. I told her she’s looking very pretty and put my hand on her thigh. The way her skirt was sliding on her thigh, her skin was amazingly smooth.

My dick was at the full monty again. Shriya asked me, in a whisper, “How many times does it happen?” looking straight at my crotch. I told her as many times as I see her and till I get to have sex. She asked if I don’t get to have sex, then what happens.

I told her then I have to relieve myself like I did in school. She looked straight into my eyes and asked me how many times did I shag myself in school. I told her it was probably, 2-3 times on each day that I saw her. She brushed her hand on my cock and asked me what it was that I liked about her.

I put my hand in her hair and told her, “Your hair, your lips, your figure, and your voice, everything turns me crazy.” She came closer and licked my lips with her tongue. I licked back, trying to touch her tongue but getting into a liplock instead.

We kissed like desperate lovers, fondling each other, and losing track of time. It was pure luck that no one noticed us sitting behind the fountain in those 5 minutes. She told me that Sandy had many girlfriends before marriage. He still saw some of them on his business trips.

She had loved Sandy in the beginning. But when she finally caught him cheating, they decided to have an open marriage. “He still loves me,” she said, “But he’s a social butterfly.’

It was midnight, and the party was nowhere close to finishing. Sandy was somewhere on the second floor balcony, opening Champagne for the second time.

Shriya walked seductively in front of me, leading the way back into the villa. There was an unlit secondary hallway near the kitchen that led to the guest bathroom, laundry room, and master suite on one side.

Shriya walked past the laundry to the garage and opened a small room in the corner. It looked like a storage room with nothing but a yoga mat.

She held my coat and pulled me close. I asked her, “Aren’t you drunk?”

She just replied naughtily, “Should I be drunk to make love, Monu?”

I got the hint and took off my coat. We stripped in no time and closed the door.

We made love with her on top and me squeezing and teasing, until she climaxed. And then I mounted her in missionary style to make her a cream pie. We got dressed and went back for dinner.

I didn’t get to see her till the next Friday. Then a text from her, “Come over to stay over the weekend, Sandy is on a weekend tour.”

I packed a change of clothes and took a cab to her place. She was wearing a flowery one-piece dress above her knees when she opened the door. Her plan was to go clubbing that night.

I gave a kiss on her lips. “Monu, can you take care of this?” she said, showing me the velvety stubble on her sideburns. I took a razor and shaved her neatly.

“How do I look?” She asked. I said, “You look like a bombshell, but you could change your hairstyle.”

She got excited and asked me what look would suit her. I told her a pixie haircut would suit her face. She got excited and called the nearest salon. I asked what Sandy would say.

Shriya replied that she wanted to cuckold him anyway. So looking at her makeover, he would become a helpless cuckold, because he loved her hair a lot.

We both took a cab and reached the salon. The stylist cut off Shriya’s hair. First, he reduced volume from behind and then cut the sides so that Shriyas ears were visible. He kept the front hair till chin level so that it could be easily tucked behind her ears, for a more formal look.

Lastly he cleaned the nape area with a trimmer for a cleaner look. After a shampoo and blow-dry, Shriya was looking too hot in her short tomboyish haircut. It was about an inch long at the back of her neck and cut longer on top.

We went to the club, and everyone was ogling at Shriya. With her short hair and thigh-length dress, she was looking like a teenager. Finally, we decided to go home and fuck. I fucked her shaved cunt holding her head and jizzed on her hair.

She told me that Sandy got cuckold feelings when she narrated her sexual encounters with me, and he saw her shorn head. He was sad that her hair was gone but happy for the cuckold experience. He asked for more surprises when possible.

That week Shriya went and got my name tattooed on her right breast. When she showed it to Sandy, she saw him shagging twice in the night. One fine day she told him that if ever she would have kids, it would be from Monu! The more she cuckolded him, the more he seemed to enjoy.

Shriya and I continued our affair. We fucked in every possible position and occasion until I finished my studies and moved to Bangalore. Every once in a while, Shriya comes over to get laid to her heart’s content.

Categories: office-teacher

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