Language Teacher

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I decided to take a little side trip to visit a not-too-distant European city in order to give my business trip a little variation. After a couple of days of wandering around to see the sites, I boarded a train to go to where my meetings were to be held. It was late and I was tired.

At the next stop, a bunch of young people boarded the train. “Great,” I thought. “Just what I need. A bunch of noisy, annoying kids.” They could have been 18 or 22, but they were kids to me.

A couple of the kids sat across from me. I decided to be friendly, so I asked, “Do you speak English?” Her eyes lit up and she responded, “yes!” She explained she wanted to practice her English with someone. So she and I began to talk. Her friend sitting next to her joined in. Then some of the boys jumped in with a few phrases. Eventually, one of her teachers came over to see what we were up to, and also jumped into the discussions.

Now this English teacher was, simply put, Hot! She had a very nice shape, and she was just as energetic in the conversation as were her students. She had long, black, curly hair, a nice smile, and bright eyes. She had that hour glass figure without being too skinny or too round; just right. Although my brain (among other body parts) was interested in her, the students dominated my attention. Many were excited to be talking to an American tourist who would talk to them and answer their questions. The girl in front of me wasn’t a knock out, but the part I could see over the table between us looked pretty good. She had light brown hair, and brown eyes, with a great smile. Her passion made her exciting to listen to. She said she was a feminist, and we discussed that for a while, mostly agreeing in the subject areas.

We also talked about how boys treat girls. She explained how the boys in her class would tease her by asking her for her bra size, or they would make fun of her tee shirts that had a message, that said something like, “Do I have your attention yet.” The point being that guys paid more attention to her chest than her eyes. She unzipped her jacket and pushed out her chest and pointed to where the message on her shirt would be, right across her chest, testing my ability to resist staring at her perfectly sized orbs. We had already discussed how creepy it was for a 50 year old guy to be talking with a teenage girl, so staring would not be appreciated by anyone other than me. I was thankful she was still talking to me an hour later.

I teased them saying those that wanted to learn English should find an English or American boyfriend/girlfriend. I told them that I had learned Spanish by dating Mexican girls when I was single, and that really helped me learn. The teacher heard the word “mating” instead of the word “dating” and rolled her eyes. She also said she couldn’t get an English speaking boyfriend because she was already devoted to her handsome husband, with another roll of her eyes and a smile indicating she was providing the standard answer of a happily married woman. I offered my email address to anyone who wanted to write to me and practice their English. Or I would introduce them to my own teenage daughters who could write to them. My train stop arrived shortly thereafter, and we said our good byes.

After I returned home, I received an email from the English teacher who thanked me for talking to her students. I replied that it was a real pleasure and that I had a lot of fun. I also told her that I expected to return to her city in a few months and I would be happy to help if there was anything I could do. She thanked me and said she would let me know.

A week before I returned to the teacher’s city, she wrote to me and asked if I was still coming over to her country because she had some ideas she wanted to talk to me about. I replied “yes” and we agreed to meet at my hotel on a certain evening after her school day and my work day.

The day arrived bahis firmaları and I went downstairs to meet her in the lobby. When I saw her, my heart skipped a beat. She looked better than I remembered. She had the same snug blue jeans that nicely showed the shape of her svelte legs. Instead of the sweater that she wore on the train that hinted at what might lie beneath, this time she wore a thin blouse that better revealed the size of each breast, and the color of her bra. And then she smiled with that bright, sweet, sexy smile. I was bothered that my jeans were tight and getting tighter, yet thankful that they must be tight enough to be hiding my involuntary reaction to seeing her.

When I walked up to her, she gave me the customary hug where only the shoulders touch, and a slight kiss on each cheek. That is usually something people do after they really get to know each other, which made me wonder if I had been in her mind a lot over the last few months. It was, perhaps, only wishful thinking on my part.

I asked her if she would like to sit down in the lobby to talk. She looked around, slightly nervous, then asked if it was ok to go to my room. She said that people might see her with me and make bad assumptions, start spreading rumors, and she didn’t want that to happen. So I agreed, a little concerned about my ability to resist reaching out and grabbing one is her tempting body parts.

We took the elevator, and I escorted her into my room. I offered her the only chair in the room, or she could sit on the bed, which ever was more comfortable. She looked around and chose the bed to sit on. To show that I was a respectful gentleman, I sat in the chair. She seemed reserved, compared to her friendly demeanor on the train. To warm us up, I started the conversation by asking why she chose to be a teacher and why she wanted to learn English. We talked for a while and she warmed up, bringing back that happy character I knew from the train. We started some light flirting and we kidded about how I might be afraid of her because I was sitting so far away, then she encouraged me to move next to her on the bed. We were within touching range, almost facing each other on the edge of the bed, and her hand landed on my knee more than once, staying a little longer each time.

Then I asked her about the email she sent and the ideas she wanted to discuss. She immediately went quiet and seemed unsure of what to say next.

“To be honest, I just wanted to see you,” she said.

“Just see me?” I asked with a knowing smile.

“Well, I don’t know. You seemed so nice, and easy to talk to,” she said. “And handsome,” she added with a smile. “I just wanted to get to know you. You don’t live here, and you are not a teacher, so I thought we could spend some time together without things getting complicated.”

“I like that idea,” I told her. “I’m enjoying your company, and talking to you keeps me from getting lonely in my hotel room in a foreign country,” I said with a mock sniffle.

“Ah, do you need a hug?” she asked with a mischievous smile.

“You know?” I said as I stood up, ” I do believe that I do.” She then stood up and we hugged. After we released each other, I asked, “Is that all? I think I need more hug.”

She smiled and we hugged again, without hurrying. This time, she melted in my arms.

We sat down and looked at each other. She was nervous again. I said, “now what?” She shrugged her shoulders and remained quiet. After staring at each other, she commented, “You like to take charge. So take charge.”

We had discussed earlier how I was comfortable taking charge and leading in the office when no one else was willing to do so. My boss appreciated it since things got done in a timely manner. Her response was a confirmation that I like being in control.

“Well,” I said with hesitation, “I usually know what we are trying to accomplish, and figure kaçak iddaa out how to get there. And since I don’t usually do things just because I want to, let’s see what interests you. That should make this more fun for the both of us.”

Then she said, “I’ll do anything you say,” which not only shocked me, but reminded me that I was wearing tight jeans. As I thought about it, I wondered if I was assuming too much and being too much like a stereotypical guy with only one thing on his mind. Then I realized that yes, yes I was being a guy, and she is hoping for something similar. After all, she came to my hotel room, and is saying these things, perhaps it was worth the risk of offending her with some ideas.

So after some thought, I asked, “do you like to dance?”

“Of course,” she responded.

So I said, “then let’s see you do something.”

She looked at me with some embarrassment in her eyes, slowly stood up, and started some movement.

“You are a beautiful woman. Why don’t you try to seduce me with your dance,” I asked her.

She looked at me with a smile and started a slow, seductive dance.

“You are very pleasant to watch. I like looking at you. Do you like for me to look at you, ” I asked.

“Yes,” was her soft response.

“I’d like to see more of your beautiful body, ” I said, paused, and contributed, “how about you do a strip tease?”

“A what?” she asked, perhaps not knowing that English phrase.

“Would you dance slowly while removing your clothes slowly. Dance a sexy dance, ” I answered.

She smiled big and continued her movements, nervously getting faster in her gyrations.

“Slower,” I said.

She slowed her movements but kept moving. After a few minutes, I said, “take off your blouse.” She froze, looked at me, then slowly began dancing again, followed by her unbuttoning her blouse.

“Slower,” I commanded. “You are a very beautiful, very sexy woman. Make me desire you, more than I already do. Make me believe that my being here is a special privilege that no one else has, to be in your presence, to see you dance, to see you reveal the beauty that is hidden under those garments.”

She smiled, and worked hard to be sexy and seductive, which was already a natural ability for her.

After unbuttoning her blouse, she slowly let it slide off her shoulders, into her hands, revealing the curves of her breasts being held in place by her bra.

She tossed her blouse to the side and continued to dance. After a while, I said, “take off your pants.” She slowed her dance as she contemplated the command, and slowly unzipped her jeans, and worked to pull them down over her hips. “Keep dancing,” I commanded. She danced and removed her shoes and jeans, tossing them also to the side.

“Take off your bra.” She looked down in embarrassment, and slowly unfastened her bra in the back, letting it slide down her shoulders and breasts until she tossed that on the pile of her other clothes. Two beautiful, round breasts hung down showing she was no longer a teenager, but still held a tantalizing form, punctuated by a firm nipple in the middle of each with the faded shape of tan lines showing where her bikini would cover these treasures at the beach.

She was now wearing only her panties, which was a light blue bikinis, very sexy, and very complimentary.

I asked her, “How do you feel?” “Nervous,” she replied, and stopped dancing.

“Are you having fun?”, I inquired.

“Yes,” she replied, with a hint of hesitation.

“How can we make this more fun?” I asked.

After a moment, in a timid voice, she answered, “I don’t know.”

“What if I told you to take off your panties and let me tie you up, then invited people in to have sex with you? Would you like that? “I asked, as her eyes got big. “Or is that going too far?”

“I think that is too much,” she said nervously. kaçak bahis

“But didn’t you say you would do anything?” I asked. She just stared at me. “Ok, I agree. That is going too far. So let’s see what you would enjoy. What if I tied you up and explored your body? Is that too much?”

She smiled and said, “no, I guess that would be ok.”

Then I said, “what punishment do you give students for disobeying their teacher “. Her smile began to fade. Then I said, “I wonder if s spanking would be appropriate.”

“Not for kids,” she said, in slight protest.

“Well maybe it would appropriate for adults,” I suggested. She looked at me, with a possible recognition of what might be in store for her. Then I said, “Who told you to stop dancing?” She began dancing again.

A moment later, I said, “Turn around and show my your ass.” She turned around and continued to dance, slowly swaying her hips in mesmerizing movements. “Slowly lower those panties.” And she did, revealing more tan lines, and a nicely sized ass.

“Now bend over and show the roundness of that beautiful ass,” I said. And she did. “Turn around,” commanded, and she did. “Stop hiding behind your hands. Put your arms by your sides,” I demanded, and she complied.

You could tell she had Latin blood in her. The Latinas have a way of moving their bodies in such a way to make the blood in my body move around to just the right places.

After soaking in her naked beauty, i told her, “Come over her and help me get undressed.” After she did, I put my arms around her and pulled her close so I could feel her soft warm skin against mine, and just held her.

Then I said, “I want a back rub.” So I climbed on the bed, laid face down, and instructed her to straddle me and massage my back. She did, working her way down from my shoulders, to the small of my back. Then I turned over and had her rub my chest, which she did with a smile, occasionally trying to tickle me.

Then I insisted on a lap dance. Oh, the way she moved. She did many of the same movements sitting on me as she did standing up. And they were just as effective. Eventually, I instructed her that a lap dance was a bit more than just dancing, but involved rubbing her pussy along my body. By the look in her eye, I think she liked the idea.

Since I didn’t know her limits, I had to “put her in charge”, so to speak, while I was in control. So I told her, “let’s figure out how well ‘that’ fits inside ‘there’,” attempting to point to our respective genitalia.

She stopped dancing, positioned herself over me, slowly lowered herself on top of me, and put me inside her. Of it felt so good. Warm. Wet. Pressure. You could start hearing the changes in her breathing as she commenced her rhythmic motion. She also didn’t seem to be trying too hard, and yet, the rhythmic pressure of her pussy on my cock made me think she was a natural.

I’ve had a couple of women tell me I am sometimes too gentle. So when I grabbed her tits, I wasn’t too rough, but neither was I gentle. Her moan made me think it was just right.

After a while, she started slowing down, probably because she was getting tired. That meant it was my turn to get to work. I pushed her off of me, climbed out from under her, grabbed her by the feet, positioned her on her back on the edge of the bed, and began to fuck her, gentle at first, but firm thrusts that made her breast quiver with each bang. As she got louder, I got faster, until she was obviously at her climax. I stopped for a moment and enjoyed her quivering pussy around my cock. I told her that it was my turn, flipped her over, and began with my assault, thrusting as deep as I could go, which caused her to react, which caused my body to respond, eventually giving me the release I had needed for a long time.

I grabbed her legs again, positioned her on the bed, and laid down next to her for a while, gently caressing her soft skin that was still glistening from the workout she just had. After some pillow talk, we agreed to meet again the next time I was in town. After all, I’m always willing to help out with language practice.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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