Fucking my Teacher - When Role-Play Goes Awry

Proof if any be needed that those who can't learn; teach.

Role Play. An integral and essential part of sexual life for some, and a horror filled nightmare the likes of which Meatloaf referred to in his song “I would do anything for love, but I won’t do *that*”.

For my part, I absolutely understand the appeal. The opportunity to play a role and feel like somebody else for a while doesn’t present itself very often in life and, for the majority, role play presents the opportunity to enact the kind of fantasies that real life so rarely offers. But I can also very much see the thinking from those for whom the very idea may bring them out in a cold sweat. Because, when it comes down to it, role play requires acting. Not necessarily very good, deep or subtle acting - indeed, usually far from it - but, like most kinks, it’s something you’re either into or you’re not. And if you’re not, it’s a portal to only deep embarrassment, and the sudden and overwhelming desire to become celibate.

Even if you’re lucky enough to find yourself with a willing partner it can be a risky road as there are very much different degrees of involvement and engagement. For some RP is just an excuse to get dressed up in something a little more exciting than usual, utter a few lines of dialogue basically ripped straight from a substandard porn movie, and then get straight down to having some fun, with the ‘characters’ probably not mentioned again until it’s all over. And, I should stress, this is a perfectly legitimate approach - I’m not being at all dismissive of it for it can be huge amounts of fun if that’s what both partners are expecting from it. Because the *other* end of the scale is far more involved. Time is taken coming with elaborate characters, setting the scene and tone, and building up from meeting to sex and beyond, maintaining steadfastly in character throughout. This approach certainly isn’t common - there are few out there with the time, energy or patience for it - but it’s still just as valid as any other.

As with all kinks, the key to making it work. is to agree the expectations before hand. What do you want to get from it? Is breaking character when it all gets too silly allowed? Do we drop characters as soon as we’ve cum? Etc.

And how do I know this? Because I’ve been a part of a roleplay experience where we were very much *not* on the same wavelength. And consider yourself warned; this one gets awkward!

It’s tricky to explain the relationship I had with Tom. We were either fuckbuddies who occasionally went out together on things that, if you squinted a little, might have looked like dates, or we were dating but doing it very infrequently and very badly. The details are largely unimportant though. We were fucking and having fun, and had been for a few months.

We hadn’t yet reached the stage where the sex was getting predictable, but we were both adventurous sorts and got a little kick from pushing each other, seeing who might cave in and say ‘no’ first. (It was usually him. While I’m far from fearless, I’m competitive enough to place most concerns to one side for the sake of a victory.) As such, it didn’t take all that long before the notion of indulging in a little role play was suggested. It was *his* suggestion but I, eager not to back down, happily agreed.

We spent a long time discussing what particular theme and flavour our RP might take. Which is to say I spent a while making suggestions eager to avoid the usual cliches, while he patiently sat back having already made his choice. Options included Teacher and Slutty Student, Doctor and Nurse, Nurse and patient, Police Officer and Criminal, Two Rival Pirates, An Actress and her Director, A Plumber and his Apprentice, Any bizarre combination of characters from Game of Thrones, and a Cowboy and the Female Sherif of a surprisingly forward thinking frontier town.

You can probably guess which suggestions were mine.

However, defying my suggestions to go for something more original, it was clear he wanted to go super traditional: Teacher and Slutty Student. I attempted to argue that, by definition, I’d literally *been* something of a slutty student, so this wouldn’t technically be role playing for me, but my entirely valid argument fell on deaf ears. But, in honesty, I didn’t really mind. I already had ideas for how I could still make this fun.

As a side note can I just mention here that while on many levels I can completely understand the appeal of of the Teacher/Student thing - there’s a built in power struggle, it’s an exciting taboo, it can often conjure very real memories of some of life’s early excitements and fantasies - in terms of the visuals and the outfits, guys are getting a significantly better deal than women. The slutty school girl look is clearly an attractive one with lots to enjoy - short skirts, knee high socks, tight white shirts, etc. But what do we get enjoy in return? A guy in a suit. And, if he’s being authentic, not even a particularly nice or expensive suit either. Even if suits *are* your thing - and for many, myself included, they definitely are - it’s not even something out of the ordinary!

But, rant over, back to the story.

I’d, perhaps predictably, gone all out with my outfit. As much as I’d wanted to avoid the stereotype, there really is only one way of doing the look ‘properly’, so I very much went with it:

My hair was in long pigtails, I’d found an old white shirt which was clearly too small for me, and left the top four buttons undone. As such my tits were, for want of better word, palpably close to spilling out of the garment. I left the shirt untucked and the tie loose. My skirt was pleated and barely reached my mid-thigh, and my white socks came to just below the knee. I’d originally wanted to match it with typically shiny black ‘school shoes’, but had nothing appropriate, so went for some Converse instead.

Even if I say so myself - and I do rarely say this because I like to stay modest - I looked fucking good,

He was wearing a suit.

Sigh.

The scenario was to take place at my flat, with the vague plot that he was conducting a home visit to enquire about my falling grades. He’d wanted to play as though it was immediately ‘after class’ and I’d been held back but, given our lack of desks or anything which could create a classroom setting, I argued this would stretch our suspension of disbelief too far.

Now the dialogue that follows is far from verbatim as my memory is nowhere near that good. But it very much captures the flavour of what was said, if not the actual literal exchange.

He arrived at my flat and, as I answered the door already dressed in the full regalia, I could see he was a fan. A kid at Christmas could not have had a broader smile on his face than Tom as he took in my look. Without saying a word, he eagerly made to step inside.

“Er, sir, what do you think you’re doing? You can’t just barge into my house!”

He faltered. We’d not even started and he’d apparently already forgotten that this was supposed to be role play. His smile fell and he looked genuinely confused. He looked at me utterly lost, but I kept my face a picture of shocked outrage. It took him actual seconds to remind himself what was going on.

“Oh.. yeah. I needed to see you. Home visit. Your grades are slipping. Can I come in?” he said, offering literally no commitment at all, almost as if he was reciting lines from memory.

“My grades? What’s wrong with my grades? I’ve been excelling. Improving in all subjects, actually sir.” Now, I admit, I was definitely fucking with him at this point. Tom was phenomenally easy to wind up and my delight in watching him get frustrated was never less than total. Plus, on a selfish note, as a general rule the more frustrated he was the better the sex was, so really this was for the benefit of both us in the long run.

But he was having none of it.

“For fuck sake Alice, will you just let me in?”

He’d broken character already. But I wasn’t going to let it drop so easily.

“Alice? Who the fuck is Alice? You’re at the wrong house, sir. I’m Kirsty. You teach me Chemistry.”

The reason why I’d decided to be called Kirsty is in itself an interesting tale, but probably too long to dive into here. Short version: He used to fancy a girl called Kirsty, and i figured calling myself it would annoy him/wind him up all the more.

The back and forth continued with me refusing to break character and him desperately trying to avoid having this awkward conversation on my doorstep. Eventually - and by which I mean after whole *minutes* had passed - I let him in.

I’d planned a whole long winded seduction routine that would take place over me awkwardly making him a drink as we discussed my grades, detentions, and how I might go about improving them - by fucking him, obviously - but he decided to bypass this by instead heading straight to my bedroom.

“What are you doing in my bedroom, Sir?” I asked, aiming for a mix of coy and mock shock.

“You’ve been a bad girl, and we’re going to do something about it.”

You could tell he’d clearly spent a lot of his life wanting to say those words. But literally as he said them I could see him losing faith. By the end he looked so embarrassed I could have believed he’d just caught by his parents jamming his cock into a random piece of fruit from the bowl. He decided to cover this by immediately dropping his trousers and getting his cock out.

“SIR!” I gasped. “What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?! You are totally going to get sacked for this!” I can’t pretend I’m the greatest actress in the world, but I think I was managing a heightened but believable delivery.

“Alice, can we drop all this shit please. You look hot as fuck. Can we just get to the part where we fuck?”

I should have dropped character then. I know I should’ve just accepted that I’d already wound him up, and now I could just have some fun.

“For the last time, sir, my name is Kirsty. Are you really stood in my bedroom with your cock out and thinking of another girl?”

In my defence, before he openly wept or stormed off in frustration, I got to my knees and took his cock in my mouth. It took no time at all to get him fully hard and, when I paused to point out my pigtails were there to give him something to hang on to, he seemed to forget all previous frustration and make the most of the opportunity.

What followed was, by any definition, excellent sex. As I said earlier, we’d be fucking for a while by this point, and were extremely familiar with what each other enjoyed, and how to provoke the best reaction.

But it also lost any semblance of being role play.

Any attempt I made to reintroduce some aspect of it was quickly rebuffed.

As he went down on me I questioned whether this was how he usually conducted school oral exams, but it was met with a stony silence. (His tongue was busy, to be fair).

When I rode him I asked if he’d ever fantasised about any of his other pupils, but he cut me off by sitting up to kiss me. (A common technique he deployed to shut me up)

I came while on all fours with him fucking me from behind. I told him it was an even better orgasm that Tony the Janitor had given me in the sports cupboard. For some reason this seemed to actively frustrate him (It turns out he had a friend called Tony), and he pushed my head down into the bed and furiously pumped away until he exploded inside me.

After he slid out of me, I turned around with a big smile on my face. He cut me off before I even said a word.

“We are never doing that again!” he declared defiantly. Then he looked at me - most of my outfit was still on.

’We’ll just find another excuse for you to wear a slutty shirt and socks.”