Teacher Porn Stories

Teacher Porn Stories

The people of reddit share the times they had intimate relationships with their teachers and students, tough be warned, not all of the stories play to the fantasies you might assume.

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38 Dirty Pics & Memes That You'll Want to Look at Alone

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I can attest that you never forget the taste of a dirty stinking penis.

I got diddled by the janitor in grade 4. Nice guy. Bad breath.

closest i ever got was mrs. M ,i would massage her feet (she was a runner) and whenever i went up too far up her legs she'll stop me, she met a fellow runner,and within months had first date,parents introduced,and by end of school year they were married,btw she was a cute shorty around mid 20s i was in 7th grade

you pretty much had sex with her, count it.

Kindergarten I'd position myself under my teacher's chair at nap time to see under her skirt when she stood up. WTF was I thinking at 5? It was bonerrific!

the last half is mostly for all you gays

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Teacher Student Forbidden Love · Stories
Separate exclusions with commas (,)
83 pages Completed August 18, 2017 Trisia
"I don't care if I'm crossing the line. I don't care if those morons report me to the police or anything. I won't let them. Please, just let me stay by your side. Give me a chance.
Y/N, I love you."
You are at your senior year in your school. You heard that a new teacher who ...
6 pages 1 week ago Me and Your Mama
JJK X Male Doflamingo Reader | Modern AU | Your name is M/N L/N and you worked at Tokyo Jujutsu High School and Kyoto Prefectural Jujutsu High School as a teacher. Your name was well know, for your strength, intelligence, good teaching, but mostly for being the 'Hottest' teacher there was in...
Laura first saw him outside of a club, beating up an innocent man. The next time she saw him, he was her new teacher. At first, the two hated each other. Slowly, however, they became friends. And then more. After a drunken one night stand, the two realized they were madly in love with each other. Bu...
39 pages March 12, 2016 LittleMo
What if I told you that I fell in love with my teacher oh wait he's not just my teacher he's my brother yeah crazy right,
Well it all started with a little something like this... Find out more click and read.
67 pages 6 months ago Sun-Kissed-Serenity
In nearly every aspect, fifth year Hufflepuff Everly Thompson is a gifted Potions student, but when her dream career is threatened by the class’s poison chapter (her worst topic), Everly fears she’s doomed. Of course, she could always ask Professor Snape to tutor her, but even with her strong admira...
251 pages January 22, 2016 love
A shy, timid, 16 year old named Hazel Pierce has no idea what she's getting herself into when she walks through the doors of Winneberg High. Well, she sort of does. She knows the ropes, don't look at anyone, talk to anyone, or touch anyone. But throughout the year, her art teacher Mr. Jesse ...
136 pages April 13, 2021 chaos
"Are you okay?" He asked.
"Just tired." I replied, lying straight through my mouth.
I knew he could tell it wasn't just the lack of sleep, but the lack of hope and happiness that made me the way I am. TeacherxStudent *Redo*
70 pages Completed June 2, 2017 C. Fitz
Illegal. I could send a man to jail. For a lengthy sentence, even. Still, it doesn't stop me from falling head over heels for my teacher. And apparently, it doesn't stop him from doing the same. But if ANYONE finds out, it will be THE END OF US. Especially him. So why am I doing this? When I...
67 pages November 16, 2019 TheClosetGirl
I know I shouldn't feel this way. I can't help it, falling for my teacher. His warmth as he hugged me tightly, his kisses ever so gentle that rains down on my cheeks, his clear and smooth voice that calls out my name. How could such a beautiful thing be a mistake?
66 pages October 26, 2019 Mirthal Araran
Book Trailer: www.youtube.com/watch?v=-_Dbl-obnAI
Mute. The inability to speak, to communicate verbally. Haphephobia. The fear of being touched or touching others. Feral child. The definition of a youngling growing up in the wild and adapting to such. All these words define who I am, who I was and w...
11 pages Completed April 12, 2017 Auri
There is no distance on this earth as far away as yesterday. You can't reach for anything new if your hands are still full of yesterday's junks. That's why people need to move on. But guess some people just can't leave their past. They look for it, they hunt it down and claim it as t...
30 pages February 1, 2019 DarcyMoon
Is there a thing as forbidden love? There is. One of them is Diane and Alex’s love. Because how can a teacher and a student ever be todether? Despite the odds, they learn how to be strong. They are finally happy... but for how long?
82 pages October 29, 2018 the mad hatter
"You're kisses will never get old. They're amazing," he whispered against my lips.
"Shut up," I groaned as I kissed him.
"Haha. Why? Anything better you want to do that you have in mind?" Carlos questioned, a smirk playing on his lips. I rolled my eyes and brought him...
105 pages Completed September 4, 2018 courtsie
|©| Aurora Lester has always been hopeless in her least favourite subject: English. What happens when she is joined on her first day of the semester by a brand new English teacher bringing more than just a few language tips? Join the unlikely duo journeying to keep afloat amongst the angsty teen lif...
Life can change in the blink of an eye. Everything you've known and loved, gone in an instant. Nobody knows this better than Jamie Dornan. A damaged, depressed high school teacher who is mad at the world. He has closed himself off entirely and has lost all hope in the true meaning of love and ha...

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By Adrienne West
Updated April 30, 2018

By Adrienne West
Updated April 30, 2018

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“Blood, sex, and death.” Those were the three things Mr. Fitzpatrick taught us were part of every gothic horror novel. He was the high school english teacher I hopelessly crushed on, and I couldn’t help but notice that his eyes lingered on me when he said the second word. Sex.
I was a senior then, about to graduate. Glued to my seat even in the late, late spring when my classmates were terminally zoned out, focused on graduation, the summer ahead of them, college. But I still had unfinished business here, and today he was wearing a black tie over a light blue button-up and jeans that were just snug enough to drive my imagination wild. When he perched on the edge of his desk reading from The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde , I let my eyes wander up and down his body, imaging a new use for each part.
He was the new cute teacher this year, the one the girls whispered about between classes. Mr. Fitzpatrick is looking good today. I’d tried to pretend I wasn’t one of them before, it’s not interesting to have the same crush as everyone else. But his charm was undeniable, who else could make the classics so sexy? Every day when he taught his inflection would bounce up and down with passion as he taught us about Bram Stoker and Shirley Jackson.
When he taught Dracula he became brooding and obsessive, delving into each character. Even in the clinical, fluorescent-lit classroom it was sexual. I spend the 50 minute class period imagining his lips — his teeth — on my neck, finding me in secret, lusting after my “life force” as Stoker says. The week he spent on, The Haunting of Hill House , was one of the most oddly erotic of my life. The text was thrilling, I was in a constant state of suspense and I held myself to not reading ahead, and being completely present in class when he talked about the role adrenaline plays in our bodies physiological state as we read. I didn’t ask, but I was sure my increased interest in him was one of those byproducts he was talking about.
When graduation was only a few weeks away, I felt bolder. Surely I should make a move, if the consequences of being rebuffed were so low? What could they do? I was almost gone. And so I became consumed with the idea of hooking up with Mr. Fitzpatrick.
At first, I thought I could be subtle. Mr. Fitzpatrick certainly noticed when I wore something low-cut or a little more form-fitting. Once I entered his classroom in a dress that particularly accentuated my curves and I could have sworn I heard him groan. But understandably, he never did anything more than cast a lingering glance my way.
He’d get in too much trouble , I reasoned. I’m going to have to be the one to do something . So I put my mind into creating the perfect plan: I’d just have to present him with an opportunity he couldn’t say no to.
The senior end-of-year dance was coming up, and I inserted myself into the planning committee long enough to serve as an official liaison and ask Mr. Fitzpatrick if he would be a chaperone, apparently we were in desperate need of one (I didn’t ask anyone else). A light flickered in his eyes as I carefully enunciated the word desperate . Hopefully that was a look of comprehending my agenda. He agreed to the task.
I bought new lingerie, black and red and lacy. I wore it under a loose-fitting white sundress, pure and virginal like a gothic heroine, but dark and carnal underneath.
At the dance, I added a note to the clipboard waiting for him as a chaperone. It was the regular list of rules to enforce and emergency contacts. My note was underneath, it was a line from Dracula along with his room number:
“No man knows till he experiences it, what it is like to feel his own life-blood drawn away into the woman he loves.” CLC 345.
I never went to the dance. Instead I made my way through the dark and empty corridors of the school until I let myself into his classroom. I brought with me one candle to break up the darkness without relying on the fluorescents. Lighting it and setting it on a desk in the front row I climbed into Mr. Fitzpatrick’s seat behind his desk, pulled the straps of my dress down so the top of my lacy bra was revealed, and crossed my legs with my heels resting on the edge of his desk, waiting.
It was a long wait. He didn’t find my note right away, but it became pleasurably agonizing, every tiny sound I heard in the hallway seemed like it could be him approaching. I got excited and then mellowed again when I realized it was my imagination. When he did come, I didn’t even hear him approach.
It was a guess he made as he entered the classroom, it was too dim to see my face but I had made sure the glow illuminated my nearly bare legs. I was glad he was expecting it to be me.
“Mr. Fitzpatrick.” I acknowledged him and removed my legs from his desk, slowly crossing them in front of me.
“This note… what are you doing here? We shouldn’t be here.”
He was saying the words, but even to someone who wasn’t engaging in wishful thinking they sounded unconvincing. He didn’t want them to be true. I stood up and leaned against the edge of his desk, facing him, opening my legs a bit so he could imagine himself between them.
“Mr. Fitzpatrick, I’m sorry if you’re misunderstanding. I just wanted to discuss Dracula more.”
When he was close enough that I could touch him, I grabbed his tie and pulled his body into mine. I could feel he was already hard as he pressed against the loose fabric separating us. The situation excited him as much as it excited me. “You’ve always been my favorite student, Adrienne, but I could get in a lot of trouble for being here right now.”
Pulling harder on his tie, my mouth found his neck. “I’ll just have to make it worth your while then.”
He groaned and his hands found the undersides of my thighs, pulling me closer to him and moving us both back so I was resting on his desk. I slide back farther and wrapped my legs around him.
“I just wanted to experience this before graduation,” I told him, “I’ve been trying not to make a move all year.”
Even in the low light, I could see the smile that spread across his face. He says he loves the way I look lying on his desk. I respond by feeling the bulge in his pants, attempting to grip him through the fabric and feeling him grow.
“We need to make this quick. They’ll look for me if I don’t come back.”
“Perfect.” With the suspense building as long as it had, I wouldn’t last long in his arms anyway.
I heard him unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants but I didn’t look away from his face. Even in the dark he looked handsome, brooding. I wanted him to tell me more about sex and blood and death but I also just wanted to experience it with him — all the parts of being human, all the things worth writing about.
I was happy there, to be a willing participant in a fantasy I was sure he had. Happy when he slid the lace panties I’d brought for the occasion off, happy when he didn’t bother to remove my bra but instead pulled my breasts free from it, and especially happy when his body met mine.
While forging a path with his mouth from my neck, down to my collarbone, and then landing on my breasts he pulled me closer to him and entered me. The speed with which he poured himself into me belied his eagerness. I knew he wanted me as much as I wanted him to. As much as I’d fantasized about him wanting me.
Lowering himself so his face was next to mine he whispered, “Adrienne, if you want to be a great student you’re going to have to finish me off with your mouth.”
Kneeling before him I skipped the niceties and began blowing him full on right away, working my hand around his shaft in tandem with my mouth. His hands worked their way through my hair, separating it into two ponytails he held firmly as he used them to guide my head onto his cock, increasing in rhythm until I felt him tense up, his hands clenching my hair. Pulling my head down on him, he held me there and emptied himself into the back of my mouth. I could taste the saltiness as I removed myself from him, licking my lips.
It was the perfect end to my senior year.
Best read in the bath. A girl with an imagination ought to do something with it. Find me on Twitter and Facebook.

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