I Recognized My Teacher in a Bar Twenty Years Later

Fridays were always my favorite day. It’s the night when I do best, when the week’s fatigue turns into the urge to go looking for someone. That time I went to my usual bar, the one on the corner, three blocks from the apartment where I live. It’s well located, right in the center, and all kinds of people go there, which makes it unpredictable, and that’s why I like it.

I went straight to the counter. There were quite a lot of people, but the atmosphere stayed calm, without that tension you get in packed places. While I waited to be served, I glanced toward the back almost on instinct. And I couldn’t believe who I was seeing sitting alone at one of the tables.

It was Miss Marcela. The woman who had been my primary school teacher. I recognized her instantly, even though twenty years had passed. She had been my platonic love, my first of all. I smiled without being able to help myself and walked over.

—Hi —I said.

She looked up and smiled back at me. She was alone, with a half-finished glass of wine.

—Hi —she replied, with some curiosity.

—Are you teacher Marcela? —I asked, though I had no doubt at all.

—Yes —she said—. That’s me.

—I knew it! —I blurted out, almost like a kid.

—Let me guess, you’re the father of one of my students —she said in a somewhat tired tone—. Forgive me if I don’t place you, there are too many faces.

—The father of a student? —I laughed—. No, not at all. I don’t even have kids.

—Then?

—You won’t remember me —I said—, but you were my teacher.

—You’re serious? —she laughed, surprised—. But how old are you? You’re a grown man.

—Thirty-two —I answered—. Yeah, I’ve grown a bit.

—My goodness —she murmured—. You must be one of the first students I ever taught.

—Exactly —I said—. I think you and I started the same year. You were my first teacher and I was one of your first students.

She looked at me, smiling, as if searching my face for the child I had once been.

—Can I sit down? —I asked.

—Yes, of course, absolutely —she said, now genuinely interested.

I ordered something to drink and we started talking. An entire hour passed between drinks and memories, anecdotes from that time that I dug up and that lit up her face.

—Please, stop calling me teacher —she said, laughing—. My name is Marcela. Call me Marcela.

—Okay, okay… it’s just that, well… you know.

The more we talked, the clearer it became that she didn’t remember me at all. But every time I mentioned a specific detail, a prank, a rainy day in the schoolyard, her eyes lit up.

—Oh no —she said, covering her face with both hands—. With everything you’re telling me, I can’t believe I don’t place you.

—Don’t worry, it’s fine —I replied—. It’s normal, there are so many students.

She looked at me with a soft, almost tender nostalgia.

—You remind me of a better time —she confessed—. Back then I was full of hope. I had just started teaching, and at the same time I had just gotten engaged.

Silence fell, and neither of us knew what to say. And then, for some reason, I smiled.

—You know, teacher…? Marcela —I corrected myself—. You were my first romantic interest.

—You flatter me —she said—. Me, and not one of your little classmates. Were you really that taken with me? What was it that attracted you to me? —she said it in a different tone, lower, as if she were testing the ground.

—Hmm…

—You’ve gone red —she laughed.

—It must be the wine —I lied.

We looked like a pair of awkward teenagers.

—Come on, it’s okay —she insisted—. You can say it.

—Well… but don’t get upset.

—Don’t worry —she said, pressing her lips inward—. I want to hear it.

—It was your ass —I said, my voice a little hoarse now, without any filters—. The way it moved when you walked between the desks, how it showed under your skirt every time you bent down to correct a classmate’s notebook. I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

She bit her upper lip.

—So you were staring at your teacher’s ass? —she said, raising an eyebrow—. That’s pretty bold for someone who was barely a little boy. You’re not saying that because of the way I look now, are you?

—You’d be surprised what could go through my head back then. And what still goes through it now that I’ve got you in front of me.

She kept staring at me, measuring me, the tip of her tongue peeking out between her teeth.

—When I arrived you were already seated —I said—, so I’ll have to trust my memory. Though I’m sure time has treated you very well.

Her expression slowly turned into a restrained smile, one of those that hides something.

—I’m going to the bathroom for a minute —she said, standing up and arching an eyebrow.

As she turned away, my eyes did exactly what she wanted them to do. She had wide hips, firm thighs, a round, heavy ass, a full silhouette that twenty years earlier I had only barely guessed at. She wore beige pants that clung to her legs and loosened from the knees down, tracing every curve of her backside. I felt my cock harden inside my pants just from watching her walk away.

If I thought she was pretty before, now she literally takes my breath away, I thought. Or maybe it’s just because it’s her, because she’s my teacher. The night is looking good. If I play my cards right, I’ll fuck her tonight. I’ll fulfill a fantasy I’ve kept since I was a kid.

She came back and sat down in front of me again.

—Well? —she said—. How was it?

—Above average —I replied, smiling.

She laughed, surprised.

—You graded me? —she asked.

—And you passed easily —I said—. Best in the class. That ass deserves top honors.

She burst out laughing. She was already a little tipsy.

—Marcela —I said—. I didn’t ask, but what’s a woman like you doing alone in a bar like this? Were you waiting for a friend?

—No —she answered—. Look… my husband passed away a year ago. And I, well… I’ve felt pretty alone. It’s been far too long since anyone touched me.

She said it looking me straight in the eyes, without shame, without beating around the bush. She knew exactly why she had gone out that night and her voice didn’t tremble as she admitted it.

—My place is nearby —I said.

She smiled, again with that restrained look.

—You’re too young —she said—. You were my student. I didn’t come out to spend the night chatting with someone your age.

—If you give me the chance, you might be surprised —I said, holding her gaze.

—You’re not expecting me to sleep with you —she repeated—. You were my student. You were a child.

I kept looking at her without blinking.

—Stop looking at me like that —she asked.

—Like what?

—I don’t know, I don’t know. Just stop doing it. You’re making me wet sitting there doing nothing.

—All right, Marcela —I said, feeling my cock swell at hearing her—. But it doesn’t make much sense for both of us to go home alone from here either. You came looking for company, and so did I. After twenty years we run into each other exactly when we both wanted the same thing.

A tiny smile appeared on her face, almost defeated.

—All right —she said—. Let’s go.

I clenched my fist under the table in a gesture of triumph she didn’t see.

***

I paid the bill and we left. At the door we shared a brief kiss, the tip of our tongues barely brushing, enough to make my cock hard against my pants. Hers too, I could tell by the way she pressed her legs together when we pulled apart. We walked to my apartment without saying much. I could barely string two coherent sentences together, and she spent her time looking at me, smiling, and playing with her lips. At some point I dared to put my hand on her waist and slid it down until I grabbed one ass cheek over her pants. It was hot, firm, and she didn’t move my hand away.

—Does it work? —she asked as we entered the building, pointing at the elevator.

—Yes —I said—, but there’s a camera in it —I added, smiling as I guessed where her intentions were headed.

—Mmm… what a shame —she said—. I would have sucked your cock in there.

—There wouldn’t have been time —I replied, my mouth dry.

—I live on the first floor.

—Such a shame about the first floor, then —she said, laughing against my shoulder and rubbing her hip against my bulge.

As soon as I closed the apartment door, we kissed like we were short of air. This time with tongues, biting each other’s lips, her hands already searching for the belt buckle. My shirt flew off to one side, the belt to the other. I yanked off my pants, ending up in my boxers with my cock bulging thick against the fabric. She, on the other hand, was still fully dressed, watching me with a mix of desire and amusement.

—Teacher…

—What? —she said—. I already told you to call me by my name.

—It’s just that calling you teacher turns me on more —I confessed, squeezing my cock over my boxers without hiding it—. Look how you’ve got me.

She smiled and bit her lip when she saw the bulge. On impulse I took hold of her blouse and tore it open, sending a button flying. I wanted to feel her against me. Underneath she wore a black bra that barely contained two big, heavy tits, the cleavage sinking between them. I held her face with both hands and kissed her slowly, over and over, while with the other I undid the clasp at her back. The bra fell away and there they were, hanging full and heavy, the nipples already hard and dark, pointing at me.

—Fuck, teacher —I murmured—. You’ve got incredible tits.

I lowered my mouth and caught one nipple, sucking hard while my other hand squeezed the free breast. She threw her head back and let out a short moan, grabbing my hair. I switched to the other nipple, tugging it with my lips, biting softly, and went back up to her neck.

—Turn around —I said.

She did. I wrapped my arms around her, undid the button on her pants, and started pulling them down slowly, kneeling behind her. Beneath them appeared a thin black thong, the fabric stretched over that huge ass I’d been imagining for twenty years. I bit one cheek over the fabric and she gave a gasp.

—You’re about to fulfill your childhood dream —she said, glancing at me over her shoulder and arching her ass back.

—You have no idea how much —I replied.

I yanked the thong to one side and spread her buttocks with both hands. Her cunt was already shining wet between her thighs, the lips swollen and parted, inviting me. I buried my face there, tongue flat, licking her from bottom to top, from clit to ass. She let out a muffled cry and grabbed the back of a chair to keep from falling.

—Oh, God… oh, God! —she murmured—. Who taught you to do that?

I shoved my tongue into her cunt, in and out, tasting how wet she was. I went up to her clit and sucked it slowly, then fast, alternating long laps with short sucks. I slid two fingers inside at once and curved them, searching for the spot, while I kept eating her pussy from below. She began moving her hips against my face, grinding without a hint of shame.

—Don’t stop —she begged, her voice breaking—. Please, don’t stop. Fuck me already, I can’t take it anymore.

I kissed the small of her back, her waist, leaving a trail of slow kisses while I stood up. I placed my hands on her hips, pulled my cock out of my boxers and ran it along the crack of her ass, soaking it in her own slick. My hands clung to her firmly, tracing her all over. I wasn’t in a hurry. Twenty years of waiting deserved time.

I pushed her onto the hall table, folding her at the waist. I spread her legs with a gentle kick and shoved my cock in with one thrust. She was so wet I slid all the way in without resistance, and she gave a long cry, her tits crushed against the wood.

—Fuck, fuck! —she moaned—. It’s so thick, my God!

I started fucking her like that, bent over, gripping her hips and pulling her back with every thrust. The sound of my pelvis slamming into her ass filled the hallway, and she moaned louder and louder, not caring about anything.

—Twenty years, teacher —I panted, giving her a slap that left a red mark—. Twenty years imagining what your cunt was like.

—Fuck me, fuck me harder —she begged—. Break me, please.

I grabbed her hair, pulling it back to arch her further, and drove my cock deep with slow, heavy thrusts. She came like that, her cunt squeezing my shaft in spasms, biting her arm so she wouldn’t scream too loudly.

—I can’t take it anymore —she said, turning around when I let go and pulling me toward the bed—. I need you now, in bed, on top of me.

I let her fall onto the mattress and stretched out over her. I spread her legs and settled between her thighs. Her body opened to mine with disarming ease, as if she had been waiting far too long for exactly this. I shoved my cock into her again in one push and she hooked her legs behind my back, digging her heels in so I wouldn’t slip out.

—Come on —she whispered into my ear—. Don’t make me wait any longer. Break my pussy.

I did as she asked. And for a long while we stopped being teacher and student and became only two bodies recognizing each other for the first time. I fucked her slowly at first, pausing all the way inside, rubbing my pelvis against her clit. Then I picked up the pace, pulling almost all the way out and driving my cock back in hard, while she clung to my back, moaned softly, bit down on words before letting them out. I sucked her tits every time I dipped down to kiss her, nibbling her nipples until they turned red. Every movement left her more surrendered, more lost in the moment.

I put her on all fours and got behind her. I spread her buttocks and drove my cock in again, this time without restraint, fucking her the way I’d wanted to for years. She buried her face in the pillow to muffle her cries, but every so often she lifted her head and turned to look at me with glassy eyes.

—Do you remember —I said in her ear, not stopping, leaning over her back— when you threw the eraser at me for not being quiet?

—Fuck! —she laughed between gasps, my cock inside her—. It was you. Now I remember you, you bastard. Don’t stop, don’t stop!

—Do you remember? —I insisted, giving her an ass slap—. Really?

—Yes, yes… —she said, digging her nails into my thigh behind her—. You were the naughtiest one in the whole class. Ah, ah, there, there!

—That’s me —I said, feeling like I couldn’t hold out much longer.

I flipped her onto her back again, spread her legs wide and fucked her while looking at her face as she came for the second time, mouth open and eyes half-closed. I shouted that I was about to come and she pulled me in with her legs.

—Not inside, on my tits —she panted—, come on my tits.

I pulled out just in time, knelt over her chest and jerked myself a couple of times while she pressed her breasts together to receive it. I let out a long stream of hot cum that landed between her cleavage, another over her nipples, and the last threads splashed onto her neck and chin. She ran her fingers through the semen and put the tips into her mouth, sucking them while looking into my eyes.

—That was me —I repeated, collapsing beside her, still panting—. That was the naughty one.

***

After that I lay on top of her, my face buried between her neck and shoulder, listening to her breathing settle down. I ran my tongue over her chest, cleaning away some of my own cum, and kissed a nipple that was still hard.

—What grade do you give me, teacher? —I asked, exhausted—. Did I pass the test?

She hugged me and began stroking my back.

—It’s been a long time since I felt like this —she confessed—. Yes. I give you a high mark. You’ve left my cunt absolutely wrecked.

She stayed the night. In the morning I woke up with her hand already around my cock, waking it with slow caresses. She looked at me with an expression I couldn’t decipher, somewhere between hungry and shy.

—Last night you left me in pieces —she said, smiling, without stopping her stroking.

—You didn’t exactly go easy on me either —I replied.

Without saying anything else, she slid down my body and took my cock in her mouth. She sucked it all the way down, to the base, with her tongue curling around the head every time she came up. One hand caressed my balls, the other braced on my hip. I took her hair, not forcing her, just moving it away from her face so I could watch. She took it out, licked the shaft, sucked my balls one by one, and swallowed me whole again until her eyes grew wet.

—Fuck, teacher, like that, like that —I panted.

She climbed on top of me, sat on my cock and started riding me slowly, rocking back and forth. Her tits rose and fell at my eye level and I lifted my head to catch a nipple every time it got close. She gradually increased the pace, bracing herself on my chest, coming again with her mouth open.

—Before I was widowed I considered myself a passionate woman —she said, still riding me slowly, stroking my chest—. But my late husband was… rather routine. He never gave me even half of what you gave me last night. You move differently. Where did you learn so much? Don’t tell me you have a wife hidden somewhere.

—A wife? Me? —I laughed, my hands on her waist helping her move—. Not at all.

—And why not? —she asked—. I don’t believe that with that kind of skill you’re still single. Though of course, you people nowadays…

—I know people in that same bar where we were last night —I said, giving an upward thrust that tore a gasp from her—. Women who want the same thing you wanted. Nothing more.

—I see… —she said, with a hint of feigned modesty—. Women like me.

—Adult women who know what they want —I corrected, grabbing her hips and starting to fuck her from below—. Like you.

—I’m not like them —she said, half joking, half serious, while coming again to the rhythm I set for her—. I’ve only slept with my husband and… and now with you.

I stayed silent. I didn’t know whether to believe her, but I didn’t care. I liked thinking I was only the second man in her life, even if I suspected she was exaggerating. I turned her around again, put her underneath me and emptied my second load into her cunt, without pulling out this time. I came in spurts until it was running between her thighs.

—Better not push it —she said, reading my face while she wiped my cum with the sheet—. I’ll be offended.

—I’m not implying anything —I replied, laughing—. On the contrary.

***

She left that morning with the promise, spoken by her own lips, that we would never see each other again.

—I’m too old to be fooling around with former students —she said, standing by the bed, still naked as she looked for her clothes on the floor.

—There’s nothing to complicate —I said—. It’s just what we both wanted.

—Of course there is —she insisted—. I’m a widowed woman. I wasn’t looking for just one night in that bar.

—Well, you weren’t going to find anything else there —I said softly.

—I know that now —she admitted—. I knew it the moment I sat down there. But then you appeared.

I chose to stay quiet. I thought she might be right, that if she was scared of making things complicated, the best thing was not to push anything. I had already fulfilled the fantasy I’d carried inside me since I was a kid. I lent her a sweatshirt to leave in, because she had left her blouse a wreck and the buttons torn off, and I found it amusing to see her wearing it, so different from the teacher in my memories.

—Goodbye —she said, and left before I could answer.

But the memories of that night —her ass opening for me, her cunt soaked, her tits stained with cum— wouldn’t leave me in peace. I let a couple of days pass and showed up at the old school, right at recess time. Almost twenty years had passed since I graduated from that place and everything seemed smaller than I remembered.

—Teacher —I said, touching the frame of the open classroom door.

She was correcting some tests. She looked up and her face lit up when she saw me. She looked beautiful, with that serene beauty that only maturity can give.

—Can I come in? —I asked, smiling.

—Yes, of course, come in —she said, standing up, unable to hide her joy.

We moved toward each other and, once again, couldn’t help ourselves. We kissed slowly at first, then hungrily, our tongues searching for each other.

—Lock the door —she murmured against my mouth—. And latch it.

I did. I went back to her and sat her on the desk, sweeping the tests aside with one hand. I hiked her skirt up to her waist and found thigh-high stockings and white cotton panties that I slid aside with my finger. She was already drenched, her cunt throbbing against my fingertip.

—Quick, quick —she panted—, the kids are going to come back.

I pulled my pants down to my knees, spread her legs and shoved my cock into her on her own desk. She bit my shoulder to keep from crying out while I fucked her fast, the desk knocking against the wall with every thrust. I covered her mouth with my hand and she sucked my fingers while she came, arching over the papers. I pulled out, jerked myself twice over her belly and shot my load over her stomach and white panties.

—Clean yourself up —I panted, reaching for some tissues from the desk.

For a while we forgot the world again, the classroom and the twenty years that separated us, until the recess bell brought us back to reality.

—You must go —she said, adjusting her clothes with flushed cheeks and legs still trembling.

—Will you come to my apartment tonight? —I asked.

She nodded, looking at me with something like fear, but also with desire.

That night she knocked on my door. And the next. And the one after that. The “we’ll never see each other again” came to nothing. Today, several months later, I walk through the park hand in hand with the woman who was once my teacher. People look at us and assume whatever they want. We just smile, because we know exactly how it all began: on an ordinary Friday, in a corner bar, when I recognized at the back the woman I had desired all my life.