Teacher Student Literotica Novels & Stories

Oh how I loved the sweet impossible imagination of having a lover. I picked it up, and headed for class. Mr Richard’s class was one of my favorites. Aside from the fact that I loved his style of teaching, I loved staring at his amazing physique. I sometimes catch myself dreaming of my petite self wrapped up in his arms. Who wouldn’t? His broad shoulders,his rock hard chest I could tell even without touching,his chiseled beard and earth swirling scent I wish I had. Everything about him reminded me of my favorite male lead character from my all time Romance book “ Make Me Yours Tonight”

At the ceremony where my mother, Helena Marlow, received the Best Homeroom Teacher award, the parents wept with gratitude. They praised her for nurturing the students successfully without ever resorting to harsh discipline, and for helping them all to excellent results. But no one knew that the path to their children’s success had been paved by Mom, using me as a warning to others. When someone in the class stole money, cheated on an exam, or got into a romantic relationship, I was the one punished. During the ceremony, the principal, Ms. Wanda Ambrose, stepped onto the stage to present her award. She asked, “Ms. Marlow, you have so many outstanding students in your class. Which student

Miss Harriet’s voice cuts through the classroom buzz like a ray of sunshine. “Class, your next assignment is an essay on Franz Kafka, and don’t forget—you’ll need to read Letters to Milena,” she says, bright-eyed as ever. She’s one of those teachers who makes literature feel alive, her passion practically glowing. Harriet Ridge is barely five years older than us, yet the way she talks about authors like Kafka, it’s like she’s lived a hundred different lives.

He pulled a frown and leaned forward against the desk. "Girls, that's not part of the curriculum. I'm sorry I can't," he said in a whisper. " Please, Mr Jake. I'm actually working on writing a book. I mean it's Lita,``I said. "Woa, Lita you're a writer?" He asked. " Writer? Well," Lita paused and I nudged her with my elbow. "oh, yes. I'm a writer. I'm working on writing a book about…about…"

She replied and I nodded. **** Rinngggg "Alright, that's enough for today. Don't forget to read Chapters 4-6 of the literature text. I would test you on it by next class." The literature teacher said and I began to pack my things into my bag, trying to make it out on time because I knew for a fact that Jackson would want to talk to me.

And frankly, you look exhausted. "I've just been tired— "Lydia." His tone was soft. "I've been teaching for twenty years. I know when a student is struggling. What's going on?" Everything. Nothing. A secret relationship with my teacher that's destroying me from the inside out. An investigation that can ruin both our lives. A psychotic girl who wants to take everything from me. "Just personal stuff," I said. "I'm handling it." "Are you? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're drowning."

"Fine, only cause this time, you asked nicely and didn't order me." "Good. Now help me clean the classroom before class start. We don't want to get caught in a messy place. People might get the wrong idea" I nodded. We put everything back again in a few minutes. I sat at my table and waited for everyone, he said he had to pick up something and then be back. People started to arrive, I took out the book from the library and read it til the professor comes. "Good morning students. My name is Ryan Montgomery, and I will be be teaching, Literature." He looked at me and smirked.

The blurry picture of me and Evans from the bleachers was plastered everywhere, captioned with hashtags I wanted to crawl into the floor and die over. #TeacherPet #ThorpeToy #ScandalQueen My hands shook as I shoved books into my bag, trying to breathe past the pressure in my chest. “Wow, guess we know how she got that A in Lit,” someone muttered behind me. “Must be nice, climbing grades and hockey players at the same time.” “Bet she tutors him real good.” Laughter stung my ears, sharp as glass. I slammed my locker shut and spun around looking straight at Charlotte and her squad.

She always asks me how I am and lets me use the media room whenever I want to listen to music. My eyes roam around the room taking stock of all the amenities we enjoy throughout the day. There are bean bag chairs, tablet stations, and comfortable spots to read or work in silence in different parts of the room. That’s another thing. Mrs. G knows how to keep the interest of her students. She’s huge with technology and keeping us engaged. I scroll through my cellphone as I wait for my tutor. Just then, the doors of the library open with a loud whoosh. I gape at the sight that greets me. It’s Amara Vega. There’s no way that she’s my tutor. Is there?

I greeted him as I made my way to my desk. "Yeah." He replied simply without even turning to look at me. I sat down and turned on my system. The staffroom door opened and a student walked in. I recognized her as the math genius in 12th grade. She made her way to my desk. "Good morning Mr. Ronan." She greeted politely with a smile. "Good morning. How was your weekend?" I replied. "Nothing much, just studied for the upcoming math competition," She said. She opened her arms like it meant nothing.