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My Teacher: She Taught Me Lovethis story is part of the FanClub (fm:first time, 2926 words) [1/3] show all parts

Author: Wheels
Added: Feb 05 2011Views / Reads: 2224 / 1332 [60%]Part vote: 8.50 (2 votes)
How my teacher helped me learn the language of passion and love (part 1). This part does not have any actual encounters, but they will follow in subsequent parts!
 


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I saw her first when I went to get admission into her class. She was reputed as the best English teacher at the time. I went there all by myself, quite a feat for a teenager and stood there, watching her. She was sitting in a chair, jotting down names, addresses and marks of the applicants and the fees received in a register. Most others had one or both of their parents with them. I was the only loner. She glanced at me briefly as she kept talking to the other students and their parents. Finally she turned to me and asked, Yes?

I had been taken in by her personality. She was graceful in her talk and in her movements. She was not exactly slim, on the other hand she looked a little plump. Her hands were strong, unlike other women of her age I had seen. Oh, talking of age she was quite mature, around forty would be my guess. An oval and stern face looked pretty on her. Her short length hair fell to her broad shoulders. In a way she was more masculine than feminine, though she still had a special charm around her.

I gave my details and money and waited till she jotted down the details in her register, in a small and neat handwriting. Her face had softened up as she talked to me, and I thought she looked pretty. I left her place, thinking of her. Being fifteen, I had started romancing about a few girls in my school and sometimes a pretty lady that walked by. I had no idea about sex, but I yearned for a touch, a caress of a female hand, was excited if I caused some girl to smile, watched the girls ...

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