Student Crush

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Note to All – No one under the age of 18 is engaged in any sexual activity in this fictional story. It is neither implied, inferred, suggested, nor endorsed by this author.

Student Crush

Jocelyn “Josie” Martin – teacher – 25 years old – 5’8″, 126 lbs., brown hair, brown eyes.

Erica Williams – student – 18 years old – 5’5″, 115 lbs., dirty blonde hair, green eyes. 34B-26-36

Ever since I was a little girl, I had always wanted to be a teacher. Don’t ask me why. My Mom was a retired teacher. My Dad was a retired college professor. Even some of my role models growing up were teachers as well. All through high school, I was really adept at speaking in front of large groups and I had been in several plays, musicals, and productions in middle school, high school, and college. So the gift of gab was something I was glad I possessed.

In college, I achieved my Bachelors degree in Government and Economics and my Masters degree in International Trade. After graduating from college, I set out to find a job teaching, preferably in a city where the pay scale was better than in the smaller, rural towns similar to where I grew up. I found a position as a Government/Economics teacher at a high school in Tampa, Florida. Having credit for a Government/Economics class was a requirement for graduation and I was glad to learn that all of my classes would be seniors. I thought that would be nice since the maturity level of the seniors would be better than the underclassmen, or at least I was hoping that was the case.

At first, my students couldn’t believe I was a teacher. They were all like “Miss Martin, why are you teaching? You look like you should have been in beauty pageants.” I was humbled by their compliments of my looks but I explained to them that beauty only gets you so far and that brains will take you a lot further in life.

My first year of teaching was pretty much uneventful. I taught, the students took quizzes and tests, and they went on to graduate. I got into the school spirit so I supported all of the programs on campus. I went to a lot of the sporting events for all of the sports, supported the various clubs and organizations, participated in fund raisers, and even chaperoned some of the dances held in the gym, cafeteria, or at a local establishment.

Socially, I dated occasionally. I went out with men and women. I found some of them to be really nice, some to be really creepy, and some leaving me questioning whether or not they were actual human beings or not. My sexual tastes had varied from the age of 18 until now. To this point, I had been sexually involved with three men and four women, all in college. Sex in college taught me that having intercourse with someone was strictly noncommittal. It was about getting “the nut” or “the big O”. While the orgasm was nice, the emotional side of it was strictly detached. I had an understanding with my partners that the sex was strictly for orgasmic purposes, nothing more. Fuck buddies, if you will.

Although, I truly wish I hadn’t given my virginity to the guy I lost it to since he basically told everyone he knew that I was a dead fish. Karma caught up to him after college graduation though. I’m sure he had a heck of a time trying to explain, to his then girlfriend, why he had contracted an STD at a party two weeks prior to the day he was supposed to get married. His girlfriend dumped him and was so paranoid that he had given her an STD that she got tested weekly for three months to make sure he hadn’t given her something she couldn’t get rid of. I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall listening to that initial conversation.

My second year teaching started just as normally as the first year. During the first five weeks, I had settled into my routine with the students and things were flowing smoothly. It was Homecoming Friday and I had bus duty on the bus loop. My job was to make sure students got on their buses in an orderly fashion and make sure I had a radio to call the SRO in case any fights broke out. Thankfully, nothing happened and I returned to my classroom to prepare to go home for the weekend. When I got to my desk to put everything in my book bag, I noticed there was a plain white envelope and my name “MISS MARTIN” written in all caps and in block format. I opened it, pulled out a typed letter that was inside of it, and read it —

“Miss Martin,

I am one of your students. Actually I’m one of your female students. I admire you and think you’re absolutely amazing. I have a bit of a crush on you and think of you often. While I know that, for legal reasons, you can’t get involved with any of your students, I just want you to know that I think you’re beautiful and I hope one day, after I graduate, we can be more than just teacher and student. If you would like to know who I am, I will tell you this. When you’re holding classes next Monday, at some point during the first five minutes of each class, say something about the economic impact of COVID on international logistics. After you say that, gently scratch your neck between your right ear and the base of your neck. istanbul travesti That will be my signal to let you know what to do next. After you read this letter, take it home and burn it. See you Monday.



I stood there stunned. I felt flush. I had to sit down. I had five classes and a total of 126 students I taught daily, if they all showed up. 61 female and 64 male. ONE of the 61 females had a crush on me. Too many times, I had read on news outlets and seen on television where teachers had been arrested and/or fired for getting into a physical relationship with a student. Some of my students were flirty but not to the point where I would think they would want anything more than me teaching them. I was intrigued, yet scared. I was curious, yet not wanting anything to do with this situation. I also had a moral dilemma. Should I report it? Should I not?

From Friday evening until Monday morning, I was restless. I got very little sleep. I tried doing housework, laundry, yard work, shopping – anything I could think of to take my mind off of that letter. Monday, I rolled into class and, as requested in the letter from my mystery admirer, I mentioned the economic impact of COVID and did the neck scratch thing during every class. During the rest of the week, I hadn’t heard from my admirer. Part of my preparation to leave every day was to walk around the class to align any desks that had been shuffled about during the day. I also gathered any papers or tests and placed them in my book bag for grading during the weekend. As I was about to leave to go home, I looked on the floor near the closed door to my classroom. There was an envelope.

Nervously, I walked toward it and picked it up. I recognized my name in all caps and block format again. I walked back to my desk and sat down. I opened the envelope and pulled out the typed letter —

“Miss Martin,

If you want to know who I am, tomorrow morning at 10 AM, come to the Merriweather Business Plaza, Suite 12, located at 4512 Islander Avenue. Ask for Kenzie. She will bring you to me. Wear something nice because I will be dressed pretty for you. Also, destroy this letter when you get home.



My heart felt like it was about to pound out of my chest. My mind was racing. I started running visual videos in my mind of all of the females in my classes. Had any of them said or done anything to this point in the school year that would clue me in as to which one it was? I couldn’t figure it out. I was stumped. I wanted to know. I needed to know. Who had a crush on me? I got very little sleep Friday night as I tried to play detective and figure out who my admirer was.

Saturday morning, I got up and made coffee. I couldn’t eat because my stomach was in knots. I got about three hours sleep last night. Today was the big day. I showered and got dressed. I chose to wear a nice black and white striped dress with matching heels with my hair down. I drove to the address, found suite 12, parked, and went inside. The sign on the door said it was the Williams Accounting Firm.

I went inside and there was a young lady at a desk and she stopped what she was doing to ask if she could help me. I told her I was looking for Kenzie and that I was supposed to be meeting someone there. She spoke –

“Oh hi Miss Martin. The person you’re looking for will be with you in just a moment. Follow me please.”

She led me down a hallway that was flanked by several offices and opened the door to a small conference room. She asked me to have a seat and that I would be joined by someone in just a moment.

I didn’t know what to think. Why had I even agreed to do this? What if this was a catfish? I was scared because I had put myself in this situation. All of my questions were about to be answered.

The door to the conference room opened and in walked Erica Williams, one of my students. She had this certain beauty about her and her eyes —- oh, those eyes. Piercing, beautiful, mesmerizing. At school in my classroom, she was quiet, unassuming, yet smart and she never drew any attention to herself. She always sat with the same three people in the cafeteria. I always thought that she had a pretty smile. I was quite blown away that she was my admirer. Or was she? Or was she here on someone else’s behalf?

We made eye contact. She was wearing a black pleated skirt with a gray blouse and black heels. Her hair was down. She smiled. She approached the table, sat down in the chair next to mine, maintaining eye contact, and she spoke —-

“Hi Miss Martin. Please forgive me. I didn’t know if I wanted to go through with this or not. I really like you. And I want to be more than just student and teacher. I know it’s wrong but I am just so attracted to you.”

“Erica, I don’t know what to say. I had no idea it was you. I do appreciate your discretion. But why here?”

“The name on the door ‘Williams’. This is my Dad’s firm. I felt like this was the safest place to meet. The risk was zero. And Kenzie out front. She is my older sister and works for istanbul travestileri Dad. She graduated three years before you came to Tampa. The business is closed on the weekends so I knew it would just be the three of us here.”

“I see. Well, I do think you’re pretty. I love having you in my class. But I don’t want do anything to jeopardize my career and I don’t want to bring any undue attention to you either.”

“I know that. You could get up and walk away right now and I wouldn’t be mad or hurt. There isn’t a paper trail or electronic trail. At home, it’s just me, Mom, and Dad. Kenzie and her husband live two miles from the firm. Every other weekend, Mom and Dad leave town on Friday nights and don’t return until Sunday evening. I have no idea where they go. They always say they’re going to Key West but I don’t know. I don’t question it. This weekend, they’re out of town.”

“You don’t know where they go? Well, that’s interesting.”

“Yeah, I love my parents and all but there isn’t that closeness like a lot of families have, ya know? They have been the same with both me and Kenzie our whole lives.”

“You don’t suppose your feelings for me have anything to do with your detachment from your parents, do you?”

“No. Not at all. I have always been attracted to females. I don’t like guys. They’re not my cup of tea.”

“So, why me?”

“You have this certain way about you. You are a young teacher but when you speak, you command the room. I’ve seen the way my classmates look at you when you speak. I see respect in their eyes. I see obedience in their body language. You aren’t a jerk to anyone. You are kind to everyone. You respect your students. That’s why we respect you. As for me, I look at you and I think about what it would be like to date you, to spend time with you, to hold you, to kiss you. BBBUUUTTTTTTT, I know that it’s wrong at this stage of the school year. And finally, I LOVE the way your butt looks in your jeans when all the teachers get to wear jeans on Fridays. Your butt Miss Martin, all I can say is DAMN!”

I laughed and blushed. “Thank you Erica. IF, and I do mean, IF I agree to see you or date you or have a relationship with you, we HAVE to do it on MY terms. I can not and will not go to jail for you.”

“I agree. Tell you what. Why don’t you come over tonight? Let me fix you dinner. Say 7 PM? Bring your swimsuit and we can swim in our pool afterwards. The address is 1614 Maple Lane. The driveway is paved so come down the driveway and park behind the house on the carport. No one will be able to see your car from the street. Besides, it’s the last house on the street.”

“OK. So should I bring anything besides my swimsuit?”

“No. Just yourself.”

“OK. See you tonight.”

I got up to leave and went out to my car. I put my head down on my hands, which were together on the steering wheel. What the fuck was I doing? Had I lost my mind? What if I let things go too far? No, I couldn’t let things go too far. How would the interactions in class be going forward? What have I done?

I drove home and made myself eat some lunch. My stomach was churning because I was starving. All I could think about was how beautiful Erica looked in her outfit this morning. I couldn’t wait to see her in a swimsuit that night. Speaking of swimsuits, should I wear my one piece? My two piece? The thong bikinis I owned were out of the question. Erica seeing how good my butt looked in jeans was enough butt for her to admire.

One thing that was a little more than obvious was that my pussy was wet. It ached for relief. After I ate, I stripped out of my clothes and laid on my bed. I grabbed my battery operated Hitachi vibrator out of my night stand and went to work on my pussy. I closed my eyes and thought of Erica on her back, me eating her pussy as I looked into her eyes. I thought of her eating my pussy as I ran my fingers through her hair. The mental video I had played in my mind of her and me being intimate served as a lovely backdrop as my pussy contracted for some beautifully scripted orgasms.

I turned off my vibrator and got off the bed. I went to the bathroom, washed it off, and returned it to the night stand. My pussy was still nice and smooth from my waxing last week. I jumped in the shower to bathe and bring myself to two more orgasms before getting out. I lounged around the house nude until it was time to get ready to go see Erica.

I put on my two piece black bikini. The bottom hugged my butt just right and the top accentuated my cleavage. Over the bikini, I put on my tiny jean shorts and a regular white t-shirt. I put my hair in a pony tail and slid on my white Chuck Taylor sneakers. I grabbed my purse on my way out the door to go see Erica.

I pulled up in her driveway and she came out the backdoor to greet me. She led me inside to the kitchen.

“Hope you like Mexican because I made taco meat and all the condiments for either tacos or taco salad, whichever you prefer.”

“Erica, everything smells so good.”

“Grab a plate. Let’s dig in.”

We fixed our plates and travesti istanbul sat at the dining room table next to each other. She had on a sheer white night shirt and I could see her white bikini under it. Her body looked amazing. We finished eating and I helped her with the dishes and helped put the food that we didn’t finish in the fridge. We walked out to the pool, which was just off the carport. She took off her night shirt and I took off my shorts, shirt, and hat and we laid our things on the picnic table near the pool. We went to the shallow end of the pool and turned to face each other so we could talk. We had a LOT to talk about.

We talked about our relationship and how we were going to proceed. We both agreed that, from this point forward, we would have no paper trail and no electronic trail at all. Any and all communication would be face to face ONLY. We also agreed that if we truly wanted this to work, there would be NO sexual contact, including kissing, until she graduated. I even made her show me her license to prove she was, in fact, 18. I also made it clear to her that she wouldn’t be treated any differently than her classmates. I didn’t want to give anyone any inkling of favoritism at all.

Talking to her and listening to her talk made me want her. The conversation flowed so well. We were on the same wavelength. I knew, that if we could make it to the end of the school year without giving ourselves away, we were going to have something special. We talked until almost midnight. I loved the conversation we were having. We decided that holding hands wasn’t sexual so we held hands for the longest time as we chatted.

We decided to swim so we swam together for a while, all the time flirting and splashing each other as we did so. It was approaching 2 AM and I decided it was time to go home. I got the towel off the picnic table and went into the bathroom just off the dining room. I stripped out of my wet bikini, dried off, and put my clothes on, sans any undergarments. I walked out to my car where Erica was waiting and we talked some more before I bid her goodnight. We blew each other kisses as I got in the car and drove away.

The next few months were absolutely agonizing. Sure, Erica and I got to spend time together but it was hard because we both wanted to be physical with each other. We stuck to our guns and our plans. Each day in class, it was business as usual. When it was time for her class to leave when the bell rang, she was always the last one out. When she got to the door, she would turn to me and blow me a kiss and then leave. I wanted that kiss to be real. I wanted to feel her lips on mine, her tongue lounging in my mouth next to my tongue. I always looked forward to those weekends when her parents went out of town because I knew I would get to spend time with her.

She cooked for me. I cooked for her. We cooked together. We held hands. We watched TV together. She helped me grade papers and tests. Being in her presence made me so happy. We always met at her house. We didn’t dare meet at my place. My neighbors were busy bodies as it was. And I wasn’t about to be the subject of anyone’s wagging tongues.

I spent so many nights masturbating thinking of Erica. I wanted her so badly. My pussy stayed wet for her. She was becoming the center of my universe, despite no sexual activity between us. We had connected on a whole different level. We had connected on the intellectual and emotional levels as well.

We were open with talking about dating as well. She told me that she had been asked out on dates and that she had politely declined telling her possible suitors that she was in a relationship with someone. When asked who, she would respond by just saying “Someone and I’m leaving it at that.” I told her I had been asked on dates as well. I also had politely declined just telling the people asking me out that I was in a committed relationship, not offering any further details.

Things between Erica and me had progressed nicely. We only had three more months until graduation. She came into my classroom one morning before students began arriving to say hello and that she had something to tell me.

“Good morning Josie”. (I had allowed her to call me Josie when it was just the two of us and no one else around.)

“Hey Erica. How are you this morning?”

“I’m good. There is something I need to say.”

“What’s up?”

“Josie, I love you. That’s all.”

“You love me?”


“Well guess what?”


“I love you too Erica.”

With that, we smiled and she walked out of my classroom to go to her homeroom. I was on top of the world. I was beaming. I couldn’t stop smiling. I was also excited because this was going to be our weekend to see each other.

Friday night came and I went over to Erica’s house. I parked and went inside. She led me upstairs to her room. We had spent many Friday and Saturday nights laying in her bed talking and flirting with each other. We had also spent many Friday and Saturday nights falling asleep in her bed. How we were able to have such self control was beyond me. On this particular Friday evening, she was dressed in only a towel and her hair was wet from her shower. I put my overnight bag in the corner of her bedroom where I always put it. She walked up to me, her lips mere inches from mine. She reached out to my hands and held them.

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