"He was at it again today!" I called to my husband when he asked how school went. His chuckle from the garage door was unsettling. "The little pervert! Are you going to tell Old George?" I had no intention of telling my principal that my junior student was staring at my bust in class...again. George Walters’ gaze was no better. "He will tell me it’s normal hormones, and if I just keep him after class to scold him, it will...

It had been two days since the Friday sex incident in the classroom with Oliver. I could not get all of the images and sensations out of my mind. Oliver’s body was overwhelming my thoughts to the point where my friend, Joyce, asked on the phone if I was distracted by something concerning. I had responded that I was 'ready to start' and that seemed to explain everything. True, my period was days away, and that did affect m...

I have gone completely mad. There is no other explanation. After having Oliver over to my house for some exquisite lovemaking, I was hooked like a smack addict might be. I wanted more of my seventeen-year-old student; more of his sex. I thought I could not live without his lips on me. The next day in school, we played it cool. Both of us knew what was bubbling under the surface, yet my words of caution were prominent in o...

I lay listening to my husband start to awaken, as a new wave of lust rushed through my body. Something had changed: the guilt was diminishing. Six weeks ago, I started an affair; not uncommon for people, of course, but terribly uncharacteristic for me. What made it unique and somewhat terrifying was that it was with one of my high school French students. Oliver Kelly was… wonderful. And I craved him, often. I was still ha...

My world is not ending. It has been split and will need repair. After Charlie’s accurate accusation, I lay in bed shaking as tears overwhelmed me. "I smelled him on you two weeks ago." "I know what my jism looks like. That weren't it." This was the moment I had dreaded, expected, yet somehow fantasized would never come. "I'm going to a motel." I was surprisingly unconcerned he would be driving drunk... At five thirty, I w...

My eighteen-year-old lover and I spent a wet and wild Christmas Eve morning in my marital bed. He told his father he had some last-minute shopping for his siblings. Truth was, he already had everything purchased, and I helped him wrap it. We ended up having three uninterrupted hours of orgasmic bliss, trying a few new naughty things. Soixante Neuf (69) was his new favorite. His stamina was remarkable. And my willingness t...