Teacher

It was Parents evening. Paul and I went along to see how our daughter Svetlana was doing according to various of her teachers. We would be both be able to see all the teachers except two, Mr Hughes for Physics and Miss Jackson for Biology. I would see Mr Hughes and Paul would see Miss Jackson, they would be the last teachers of the evening that we saw.

Svetlana was doing okay in English we were told, obviously clever, but lacking focus. It was the same in French and Maths. Svetlana is obviously clever, but she really just seems to have no interest in the academic side of life. I expected that Mr Hughes would be telling me the same about her Physics classes when I got to see him.

"Svetlana's Mum," he said as I sat opposite him, the walk around the school from classroom to classroom had been tiring, but it had given me quite an insight into the heartbeat of the school, the Headmaster and staff obviously had a keen interest in their school and pupils, there was the various works of Pupils dotted around all over the place, it showed pride.

"Svetlana's teacher," I replied with a smile, "I am Mica, Lana's mum."

He offered his hand which I took, and we shook. "Brian," he said, "Brian Hughes."

"Well, what can you tell me about Lana?" I asked, preparing myself for the same as Paul and I had already heard all evening.

"Very interesting girl," he said, "definitely not a typical student. Her intelligence shines, and she does apply herself quite well, I am pleased that she doesn't seem to get easily distracted."

That almost floored me, that was so different to what I had heard from her other teachers. I wondered what was different.

"That is good to hear, a little unexpected, but good."

"She will never be a Physicist, but she understands and when I talk to the class, she listens and she often asks some deeply incisive questions in return. She is a pleasure to have in the class."

"You don't think that Physics is the career for her?"

"No, I don't, but any career that welcomes an understanding of Physics would benefit her I suspect. How is she doing in Maths? The two usually go hand in hand."

"Ah, well, her Maths teacher, Mrs Bingham, seems to think that she shows no interest."

"Oh dear. I mean, it is not for me to say, especially of other teachers, but for me, I try to engage my students, to take them on a journey, not when where I pontificate, but where I guide the way. I cannot speak for how others tread in their subjects."

"I suspect Brian that Lana is lucky to be in your class."

"And I, Mica, am lucky to have her in my class, I look forward to the few hours each week when we are able to share Physics"

When I late met up with Paul, depressingly, Miss Jackson had told the same story as the other teachers that Paul and I had seen together.

"What should we say to Lana" Paul asked as we drove home.

"Pretty much the same as last time isn't it, and nothing we said then made a difference. I would like to know why Physics is different though."

"Perhaps she fancies the teacher, what is he like?" Paul asked, "I didn't see him."

"Just a bloke, no different from any other I didn't think. But we will ask, it will be interesting to see if we can get to the bottom of it."

Paul was locking the car as I unlocked the house and walked in, Paul locking up behind us. I called Lana down from her room and we sat in the lounge, Lana with a look of indifference across her face.

"So?" She said as if daring us to say something provocative.

"Well Lana, that was just the same, mostly as last year, you show no interest and don't interact." Paul responded.

"So?" She can be so irritating at times.

"So, you will only get a basic education, nothing that will help you long term."

"What is different about Physics?" I asked, "your Physics teacher had a more positive comment about you, why is that?"

"Dunno, I just get the way he teaches."

"Okay, nothing to do with him then?" I was wondering, was it a crush, something like that?

"Him? God no, he is old, Jeez." Okay then.

We got nowhere, we tried suggesting that she talk with her other teachers the way she spoke to Mr Hughes, but she said that there was no point, they just stood at the front of the class and pontificated and you were shut down if you tried to respond. I could kind of see where she was coming from.

She headed off back to her room to her reels and TikTok and we just sat looking at each other and shrugged, if the teachers don't want to interact, what could we do? I cleared and tidied the kitchen and set the dishwasher and we headed up to bed.

I had cleaned my teeth and had a quick wash and headed into the bedroom, slipping under the duvet and was laying on my back just thinking of Lana and how we could improve her education, general mundane life stuff. Paul came out of the ensuite and slid in beside me. He turned on his side and gently kissed me. Oh.

I kissed back, of course, and his hand found and cupped my boob, it was one of those nights. I wondered what had prompted it. I rolled slightly onto my side and pressed my lips harder against his, reaching down I found his dick and I gently squeezed it before rolling his foreskin down. Paul sighed and pressed against me, making me roll back on to my back. He rose up and covered me and his dick was nudging my crease.

I reached down and lined his dick and he flexed his hips and began to enter me. I wasn't hugely aroused and his dick seemed to push rather than slide, and then with a pop he was inside me, I breathed out and relaxed. Paul began a gentle shag, it was not Earth shattering, but it was pleasant. I enjoyed the feeling of his foreskin sliding within me, the pressure of his pubis on my mons caused a slight tickle around my nubbin.

Paul began to move faster, more urgency to his thrusts, I could no longer feel the slide of his foreskin and the slap of our bodies got louder, I hoped Lana was asleep or at least she had her ear buds in.

"Oh fuck Baby," Paul gasped and he thrust hard, his spunk spurting deep within me. I kissed him and held his head as his dick slipped from me and he rolled to the side. It had been pleasant, not the room shattering sex we had years ago, now it was just an occasional gentle shag. I couldn't recall the last time I had an orgasm, but then, well, we all get older, does it really matter?

*

I had put the laundry on and decided to go into town to wander around the precinct whilst the washing machine churned the perspiration and dirt from our clothes. I would hang it out on the line when I got back home. The precinct didn't give me any inspiration, but it passed the time and after wandering around the cheap pound store and not finding anything I wanted to waste my money on I decided to get a pastry and coffee from Hot Java the coffee shop.

I ordered and took my little number on a stand and found what I think was the only free table. It was approaching midday and people were beginning to come in for their mid-day break. I scrolled through Facebook reels on my phone and soon enough the server arrived with my coffee and Chelsea Bun. The coffee was, as usual, far too hot to drink and as I was about to take a bite from my sticky bun a voice interrupted.

"Well, Lana's Mum. May I join you, your table seems to have the only empty chair?"

It was Brian Hughes, Lana's Physics teacher, we had met at Parent's Evening a couple of weeks ago.

"Of course you may Brian, yes." It would have been churlish to refuse.

"Well then, what are you doing in town?" He asked, "a little shopping?"

"No, not really, the laundry was on, and I decided to just get out of the house and wander round the precinct. It was uninspiring," I replied, "but what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at school teaching the kids?"

"I have just finished for the day and decided to come and grab a decent coffee, the coffee at school is vile. The way the rota works, I don't have any classes after eleven on Tuesdays. Sometimes I stay at school and mark books, and sometimes, like today, I just leave and do something else."

"Gosh, what exciting lives we lead," I said laughing.

"Oh Lord, if only we did, life these days is just so same old, same old. Nothing happens to get the blood racing, it is just routine."

He was, of course, spot on, life was just humdrum, just cooking, washing, cleaning, occasional bedroom trysts, and even the teenage dramas from Lana were just minor.

"I guess it is life's way of reducing stress."

"Oh but don't you hanker for the occasional bit of excitement, of a dangerous liaison, a brush with the law, anything to get the blood flowing and your breath to hold?"

"I haven't thought about it to be honest," I replied, but now I was thinking about it, he was right, life was really rather dull, but it was safe and predictable. "How about Mrs Hughes, can't she put some excitement in your lives?"

"Hot flushes," he said, a sadness across his face. Yeah, I doubted she wanted any excitement in her life with the flushes taking over.

"Oh well," I said laughing, "you'll need a friend with benefits then, one that you can make flush in an entirely different way."

"Well, that could certainly add to the excitement, the risk of getting caught, the secret messages, the assignations, yes indeed."

I smiled and tried my coffee, it was now cool enough to drink, and looked across the table at him, not as my daughter's teacher, but as a man. He was not bad looking, around the same age as me and then I realised what I was doing. Why the hell was I checking him out? What was wrong with me, I am happily married to Paul, do I need excitement in my life? Do I? Really?

"Benefits go two ways" he said with a smile on his face.

"Yes," I said slowly, "I suppose that they do."

He looked at me in the way that I had looked at him, I wasn't sure if I felt excited or uncomfortable. "Should we swap phone numbers?" He asked.

Should we? Where would it lead I wondered, a path I shouldn't go down, or one that I dared to follow.

"Yes," I said, my heart beating so loud I thought he must hear it.

When I got home, a new number in my contacts, it simply said 'Phys' I sat on my bed and took stock. I had basically agreed to a secret meeting with a man I hardly knew, a man that was one of my daughter's teachers. A secret meeting that would inevitably, intentionally, lead to intimacy. I hadn't been intimate with anyone other than my husband for a very long time. Would I know how to behave?

I stripped off and headed into the ensuite, I wasn't sure how I felt, but I knew I needed a shower. As I stood looking at myself in the bathroom mirror before the shower steam made it all foggy, I knew I had to start shaving again. I kept my hairs trimmed short, but hadn't shaved them completely off for a while, Paul and I just, well, it was not as often as it used to be, and there didn't seem much point. Now, it seemed, there possibly was.

I ran the hot water in the sink and soaked my flannel and applied it to my crotch, warming it ready for the lather. I would have to use Paul's gel and razor for now, next time I was in Waitrose I would buy my own. I spread gel over my hairs and rubbed it onto a good lather and began my tidy up. I washed as much of the foam away as I could and had a good feel, I could detect no spiky stragglers.

Under the shower I washed myself from head to toe, in between, underneath, but not inside, not this time, that could wait. Stepping out of the shower I wrapped my robe around and headed back to the bedroom. In the bedroom mirrors, I examined my efforts, easier than the ensuite as there was no misting from steam. A little red, I needed to use some moisturiser after every shower. I applied some and gasped as I accidentally swiped my nubbin.

Was my body waking up? Had the prospect, for that is all it was, the prospect of a sexual encounter with someone other than my husband raised my sensitivity levels? The last time I had been with some one other than Paul had been when Lana was five, Paul had been away for a few days on business for his company, and I bumped into Gerald, a guy that I had been at Sixth form with.

We chatted, I asked Gerald back for a coffee, I had a few hours before I had to pick Lana up from school, and before I knew it, I was in his arms in the kitchen. His tongue had roamed over my lips, had pressed inside my mouth as his hand cupped my left breast and squeezed my nipple. His shagging had ended up being a little disappointing, not up to a par with Paul, and I hadn't seen him again.

That night after Gerald, I had had used my fingers and my toy and brought myself to a crashing solo conclusion, and when Paul returned home a few days later I had almost ripped his clothes off as he came through the door. Since then I hadn't dallied, and Paul and I had slowly settled into a quieter, slower, gentle love making. Our passionate scream inducing sex of our early years was no more.

*

I had expected to hear from Brian the following Tuesday, but nothing, I suppose something had come up and he wasn't available. I spent the day looking through my dresses and lingerie and deciding what I should wear if Brian went through with his suggesting and contacted me. The choice was not as extensive as I thought, but I wouldn't be buying new clothes, no, I would make do with what I had.

It was a Tuesday morning, Lana had gone to school, dropped off by Paul on his way to work. My phone dinged with an incoming message on WhatsApp.

'Mercure hotel, Bingley, 1230. Text room details at 12.'

Oh shit, it was actually going to happen, i had begun to think i had misread the situation, a middle aged woman seeking what wasn't there, my heart started racing and I felt my buttocks clench. Oh God. I rushed up to the bedroom and stripped off, I need a shave and a shower. I decided to shave under the shower, I wouldn't be using Paul's gel now, I had my own. Paul hadn't even noticed that my hairs were gone, that had kind of upset me, I thought he would at least have spotted my bare naked fanny.

I turned my back to the falling water and lathered my Mons and labia and shaved, slowly and gently, trying not to cause any irritation, then I turned and faced the water, taking the shower head from its clip and spraying over my crotch, one of the water jets caught my nubbin and I gasped loudly and my knees almost gave way as the pleasures flew through me.

I slowed the water rate and unscrewed the shower rose and gingerly pushed the shower hose inside me, flushing myself clean. It had been a couple of days since Paul and I had shagged, but I still wanted to ensure I was clean and fresh smelling. All done I put the shower back together and gave myself a good washing all over.

Back in the bedroom I patted myself dry and looked in the mirror, no redness this time, just a smooth fanny with a crease going from underneath to my nubbin housing dimple. My suspender belt went on first, and then my high sided Brazilian cut knickers, the suspender straps tucked under my knickers, and then my half cup matching bra, it supported my girls but allowed my nipples to show, I thought it rather risqué. All my lingerie was in a pale blue, and my stockings were also a sheer blue with a dark seam at the rear.

My dress was a low cut, cleavage showing silk mix blue that finished half way between my knees and my crotch, and I had blue four inch heels to go with. Dressed, I looked in the mirror, 'Jesus girl, you scrub up well,' I thought.

In my handbag I added a tampon, just in case I later needed to contain things, even though I did the laundry, I didn't want anything leaking out into the gusset of my knickers. I would already probably have to explain what my sexy lingerie was doing in the laundry as it was. I would say I had just been trying on some old clothes and ask Paul if we could plan a date night.

It took me about fifteen minutes to drive to the hotel, I was pleased to see it was in its own grounds off the main bypass, my car should be well hidden, nevertheless I found a hedge to park next to and waited for my instructions.

'Room 307' came the text. I could still back out, I could still turn the car around and drive away, but my heart was beating with excitement, why waste all the adrenalin? I got out of the car and blipped it shut, putting my keys in side my bag alongside my tissues and tampon and strode towards the hotel. I needed to look like a woman who belonged. I did not want anyone to ask me if they could help me.

I walked straight passed reception without a glance in their direction and saw a lift. I pressed the call button and when the lift dinged and the doors opened I stepped inside and pressed the button for the third floor, my assumption being that room 307 would be on floor 3. The lift stopped and I stepped out, the little sign on the wall said that rooms 301 -- 311 were to my right.

307 was half way down the corridor on the left. I stopped in front of the door, took a deep breath and knocked, a smiled fixed to my face. The door opened and I stepped inside, walking passed the bathroom and corridor wardrobe into the main room. I heard the door shut behind me. A hand rested on my shoulder, a finger reached around and brushed my lips and I was turned around, stepping into an embrace and a mouth pressing against mine.

I realised that Brian was naked, I was embracing a man with no clothes and a very ready and enthusiastic erection pressing against my dress. His fingers were working the catch and the zip on my dress, lowering the zip, parting the fabric and then easing my dress over my shoulders and down. I was not naked like Brian, but I felt as if I were. I was in my lingerie with my dress puddled at my feet. His hand now caressing my left breast as his nakedness pressed against me.

"God, you are a sight for sore eyes," he said stepping back, looking at me in my half cup bra, brief knickers and stockings.

"Thank you," I replied, "it has been a while, I wasn't sure what to wear."

"Your choice is impeccable; I am very impressed."

He knelt before me and lifted my right foot, slipping my heels off, and then my left and I was standing in my stocking feet. He leant forward and kissed my fanny through my knickers, a finger tracing my crease down and under my crotch, my pleasures almost erupted there and then, I found myself lifting my feet and standing on my toes, my eyes shut, electrics buzzing.

He kissed up my stomach, a tongue dipping into my navel, swirling and then going up further and kissing the area just under my breasts, I had forgotten how sensitive I was just there and they were my gasps that I suddenly heard as my senses began to return. His tongue ran through my cleavage and then he was kissing my neck before his mouth pressed against mine and his fingers worked the catch on my bra.

He stepped back and my bra fell down my arms and joined the puddle of my clothes on the floor of room 307, an unfamiliar man seeing my naked breasts for the first time in years. My breath caught in my chest as he once more knelt before me, his fingers inside the waist of my knickers and I felt them slowly pulling down, revealing my secret, my pleasure, my crease to him.

His tongue darted at my dimple and found my nubbin, I gasped loudly, I could not stop, and then he was kissing my fanny crease as if it were my mouth, his tongue darting into my channel, sliding along my valley, slipping through my inner labia, they flowed across his tongue as if they were oysters in a high end restaurant, my breath held.

A finger ran along my perineum, it passed my fourchette and circled my entrance, I felt as if I would black out and gasped for air. The finger, no, there were two, pressed at my entrance, my petals parted and they were inside me, the first things inside me that were not either mine or Pauls in perhaps a decade, certainly a long time, certainly, too long a time. The fingers pressed, my fanny opened and sucked at his fingers, holding them in place.