The Student Who Taught Me to Desire Another Woman

My name is Elena and I teach mathematics at an academy for adults preparing to enter university. I’m forty-four, a dark-haired woman with curly hair and green eyes, short and generously curved. I wear large glasses that my students always comment on, and although I’m married, I admit to a silly weakness: I like to dress up for work, I like a straight skirt and a fitted blouse, I like being looked at when I explain a derivative with my back to the class.

I also like being demanding. I have a reputation for being tough, for not handing out passes for free, and that reputation is well deserved. I’ve never moved a grade even half a point out of compassion. I say this because without that rigidity of mine, nothing that happened that afternoon would have made sense.

Nadia was one of my students. Most of them were around twenty, but she was twenty-two and carrying two failed years behind her. Not because she lacked intelligence, but because life had complicated itself: a night job, a family breathing down her neck, too many things all at once. She was tall and thin, with very short hair and an androgynous air that drew attention. I, who had always considered myself completely heterosexual, had never once thought to look at her differently. She was beautiful, yes, but in the way you admire a painting: from a distance.

On the last day of the course, with the classrooms already empty and the June heat coming in through the window, I locked myself in my office to finish the records. Someone knocked with their knuckles on the half-open door.

—May I come in, Miss Vidal? —Nadia peeked her head in with impeccable politeness.

—Come in —I answered without looking up from the papers.

She came in and sat down in front of me. She was wearing very tight blue shorts and a cropped T-shirt that left a strip of flat stomach bare. She crossed her legs with a calm that did not fit the reason for her visit.

—I came about my exam —she said—. I saw the grade and I think you made a mistake.

—I wish I had, Nadia. —I sighed—. You have a three and a half. I can’t pass you. I’m truly sorry.

—I did well on it. I studied a lot.

—I don’t doubt it, but studying doesn’t always get you there. Come on, let’s look at it together. And stop calling me Miss Vidal; call me Elena.

I took her exam out of the drawer and put it in front of her. I pointed things out with my pen: second-degree equations set up badly, a two-variable system solved backwards, a limit she had made tend to zero when it should have gone to infinity. Clear errors, not matters of opinion.

—You’re right about everything —she admitted, and her voice broke—. I know how to do it, I swear. I got nervous and my head went blank.

—Then next year you’ll pass with a good grade.

—There won’t be a next year, Elena. —She looked me straight in the eye—. At home they told me that if I fail again I’m going to start working full time and studies will be over. It’s now or never.

—I can talk to your family, if you want.

—It wouldn’t do any good. —She lowered her voice—. Can’t you pass me? No one would have to find out.

I slowly shook my head, almost with regret.

—I’d love for you to keep studying, but I’m not going to do that. I never have and I’m not going to start with you. Those are my principles, Nadia.

She stood up with tears in her eyes and went around the desk to stand beside me, begging. I held firm, repeating that no, I was sorry, that I had a lot of work and she needed to leave. She seemed to give in. She walked toward the door and I thought she was leaving.

But she slid the lock shut. And lowered the blinds on the glass panels that looked out into the hallway.

—What are you doing? —I asked, more bewildered than angry.

She didn’t answer. She came back to me with a new certainty, stood behind my chair, and placed both hands on my shoulders.

—You’re so tense, Elena. You just need to relax. Let me.

—Nadia, I understand you want me to like you, but this isn’t the way to pass.

—I’m not thinking about passing right now —she murmured near my ear—. Relax.

Her hands began to move up and down my shoulders, slowly, with just the right pressure, and it drew an involuntary sigh from me. I had spent the whole day hunched over papers and, I admit it, it felt far too good.

—Your shoulders are like stone —she insisted—. Take your blouse off, come on. I’ll give you a proper massage.

My first impulse was to tell her to stop and leave. I opened my mouth to do it. And yet my fingers were already unbuttoning the buttons. I took off my blouse and stayed in my bra, exposed in the dim light, with a strange sensation bubbling in my stomach. I sat back down. Nadia smiled and kept working my back, my shoulder blades, the nape of my neck. Her hands were warm and knew exactly where to press.

Little by little they began to move lower. They slid along the curve of my shoulders to my chest, and her fingers brushed the top edge of my breasts, getting closer and closer, never quite touching. I felt it perfectly and decided that was where it had to stop.

—Okay, Nadia. This has gone too far now.

She seemed to obey again. Again it was a lie. She went around the chair, stood in front of me, held my gaze for a very long second and, before I could react, unclasped my bra. My tits were freed beneath the warm afternoon air, the dark nipples already standing hard betrayed me before I even opened my mouth. She took off her T-shirt with the same calm gesture; she wasn’t wearing a bra either, and she leaned in to kiss me.

—Stop —I said, turning my face away—. Nadia, enough.

But there was no conviction in my voice, and we both knew it. Her mouth searched for mine patiently, her tongue pressed softly against my lips until they gave in. She kissed my neck, moved down my collarbone, caught one nipple between her lips and sucked it hungrily, tugging at it, rolling it between tongue and teeth until a gasp escaped me. She moved to the other and bit it just enough for a sharp jolt to shoot straight down to my cunt. I kept whispering no, softer and softer, while an electric current ran through me from top to bottom and I felt my panties soaking through with no remedy in sight.

—I love your tits —she said against my skin, her voice rough—. You have no idea how badly I want them. All fucking course long looking at them straining under those blouses.

I stopped pretending. I closed my eyes and let her tongue do whatever it wanted. She sucked my nipples greedily, nipped at them, pulled away to blow over them, and then took them whole into her mouth again. They were so hard it hurt, so sensitive that every brush of her tongue sank straight between my legs. When she came back for my mouth, I didn’t turn away: I kissed her, I held her, buried my fingers in her short hair and pulled her against me, skin to skin, her small firm tits crushed against mine, her pointed nipples rubbing mine and sending a shiver through me.

Then she pulled away abruptly.

—I think we should stop here —she said, with a cruel little smile.

—No —slipped out of me—. You can’t leave me like this.

—A passing grade, Elena. —She looked down at me—. A five. Or I get dressed and I leave. Your choice.

Part of me, the teacher of unbreakable principles, should have been outraged. The other part, the one that had been asleep far too long, won without a fight.

—You’ll get your fucking five —I said, breathless—. But keep going, please. Don’t leave me like this.

She smiled for real, satisfied. She kissed me again, biting my lower lip, and pulled down my skirt and panties in one single tug, without haste but without hesitation, until I was completely naked on the chair, still wearing my glasses and with my hair in disarray. She stepped back to look at me, to take in the scene: the strict teacher with her legs open in her own office, nipples shining with saliva and cunt already peeking between my parted thighs.

—Fuck, Elena. You’re dripping and I haven’t even touched you down there.

I didn’t answer; I couldn’t. She knelt between my legs and spread them fully, setting my feet on the chair’s armrests to leave me completely exposed. She started on the inner side of one thigh, slow kisses that climbed millimeter by millimeter, licking, biting the soft flesh, then the other thigh, stretching out the wait until a moan of pure frustration escaped me. Her breath brushed my soaked cunt and she deliberately passed it by, the bastard.

—I never imagined this about you —she said, lifting her gaze, her lips shining—. So proper, so strict. And look at you, with your cunt open in front of a student, begging her to eat you out.

—Please —was all I could manage—. Please, Nadia, eat me already.

When her tongue finally reached me, a moan slipped out that I had to swallow halfway, mindful of the thin walls and the hallway. She licked from bottom to top with her tongue flat, all over my cunt at once, gathering the fluids running down her chin. She did it again, and again, until I was trembling in the chair. Then she parted my lips with two fingers, leaving me open like a flower, and focused on my clit. She licked it in circles, then caught it with her lips and sucked hard, then made it quiver with the tip of her tongue. She traced every fold with calculated slowness, sometimes pressing, sometimes barely grazing me, teasing my clit until my thighs tightened around her face. I held her nape with both hands, not letting her pull away, grinding my cunt against her mouth with no shame at all, lost in something no man had ever made me feel in twenty years of marriage.

—Like that —I whispered—. Just like that, don’t stop, suck me, suck that cunt.

She didn’t stop. She pushed her tongue inside me, pulled it out and shoved it back in, fucking me with it, then went back up to my clit. She looked into my eyes while she did it, her chin shining with my juices, and that look set me on fire as much as her mouth did. She sat up for a moment, wiped her lips with the back of her hand, and sat on the edge of the desk beside me, never stopping kissing me, forcing me to taste my own flavor on her tongue. Two of her fingers slid into me with such ease that it gave me away completely: I was so wet I felt them go in all at once, all the way to the hilt. She started moving them, first slowly, curling them, searching for that spot inside; then hard, pulling them nearly all the way out and thrusting them back in again, making an obscene wet sound that filled the office, while her tongue traveled down my neck and back to my nipples.

—More —I begged in her ear—. Put them deeper, don’t stop, I’m begging you.

—Do you like it, Elena? Do you like your student fucking you with her fingers in your office?

—I love it, fuck, I love it. No one has ever touched me like this.

—Say it again. Tell me what I’m doing to you.

—You’re fucking me —I panted, my face burning—. You’re fingering my cunt and I don’t want you to stop.

She added a third finger and I felt myself open wider, the heel of her hand slapping my clit with every thrust. I tried to kiss her back, but I had to pull away immediately because I could no longer hold in the gasps. I reached for her tits with one trembling hand, squeezed them, pinched a nipple, and she let out a low growl against my neck. With my other hand I moved down, brushed over her shorts, and felt a dampness that stole my breath: she was as wet as I was.

—After you —she whispered in my ear, without stopping her fingers inside me—. After you come, it’s my turn. You’re going to eat my cunt, Elena, even if you’ve never done it before. You’re going to learn.

I felt everything concentrating into one point, a pressure growing and growing without relief. Nadia’s fingers went in and out faster and faster, deeper and deeper, and the sound of my soaked cunt mixed with my muffled moans.

—I’m going to come —I panted.

—Do it. Come on my hand. I want to feel it all.

She lowered her head between my legs again without taking her fingers out, and that combination undid me. She closed her lips around my clit and sucked it in an impossible way, tugging at it with her mouth while she fucked me with those three fingers to the hilt. The orgasm hit me with such force that I had to bite the back of my hand not to scream, in case anyone was on the other side of the door. I felt my cunt clenching in spasms around her fingers, felt a hot gush slip out of me that she received with her mouth open without pulling away, swallowing, licking, milking everything that came out of me. It was long, deep, unlike anything I knew, a series of shudders that lasted what felt like an eternity. I was left trembling in the chair, breathless, my thighs weak and my legs still open, while she slowly came up to kiss my face with sticky lips.

—You’re incredible —I whispered to her, still shaken—. You’ve wrecked me.

—I’m not finished with you yet. —She stood up, unbuttoned her shorts and let them fall, along with tiny black panties soaked through at the crotch—. You promised me.

I saw her completely naked for the first time: tall, slender, with narrow hips and a triangle of dark hair trimmed between her thighs. She climbed onto the desk, shoved the papers aside with one sweep of her hand, and spread her legs in front of me with a shamelessness that dried my mouth. She tugged gently at my hair to bring me closer.

—Learn fast, teacher.

I leaned in, still trembling, and buried my face between her thighs for the first time in my life. She smelled of sex, of something sweet and salty at once. I stuck out my tongue and ran it from bottom to top, imitating what she had done to me, and Nadia let out a long gasp that gave me courage. I licked again, deeper, found her swollen clit and feasted on it, sucking it, rolling it against my tongue. She held my head with both hands, grinding against my mouth, moving her hips to the rhythm I set for her.

—Fuck, Elena, like that, don’t stop, that’s how you learn.

I slipped one finger inside and felt her close around it, hot and tight. I added another and started moving them while I kept sucking her clit, looking up at her from beneath my glasses. She writhed on the desk, squeezed her tits, threw her head back with her mouth open. In two minutes I felt her shaking all over, pressing my head against her cunt until I almost choked, and coming with a muffled groan that she barely swallowed, soaking my face.

—She stroked my cheek, then collapsed onto the desk, panting—. I’ve wanted you since the first day of class. You’re gorgeous, Elena, and you didn’t even realize it.

—I like your way of earning that five. —I smiled, my chin shining—. To be honest, you deserved a higher grade.

—Let’s leave it at a five —she laughed softly—. I don’t want anyone suspecting anything. Though I suppose it’ll be time to assess me again soon, won’t it?

—Whenever you want. But somewhere more private than this office.

We kissed again, unhurriedly, with the taste of both of us mingled in our mouths, until knocks on the door startled us. The janitor, most likely, doing the closing rounds. We got dressed in a hurry, holding back our laughter, and walked out as if nothing had happened, her with her folder under her arm and me with the records half-closed and my panties stuffed into my bag because they were beyond saving.

That afternoon was the first of many. Maybe Nadia never fully mastered mathematics, but I discovered something no equation had taught me in forty-four years: desire doesn’t understand principles, or labels, or what one believes one knows about oneself. And that my best student had, in reality, come to teach me the lesson.