Literotic asexstories – My Teacher – My Angel by touchmate,touchmate
Sekhar’s narrative
My name is Sekhar. I was all of eighteen years when the events of this story happened. I come from a large family that comprised of my father, mother, three sons and three daughters. My father was working as a Manager in a private firm and my mother was a housewife. My eldest sister was already married and I had another sister who was elder to me. The rest were all younger. We were a typical middle class family and lived in Hyderabad.
It was my first day at the all male college where I joined the B.SC course. It was all a cultural shock – the transition from school to college which also involved a change of medium of instruction from my mother tongue Telugu to English. Add to this the feeling of growing up suddenly – as a school going teen everybody treated you like a child. But the moment you are in college everybody called you a young man. Well! It was exhilarating but also confusing!
On the very first day I made a few friends among whom Ramana and Krishna became my good friends. Ramana’s father was an engineer with the state government and was working at a project site. Ramana with his mother and younger sister stayed at a rented house, quite close to our home. His father visited them once a month.
Krishna’s family comprised of his parents and a younger brother. His father worked for the electricity board. They too stayed close to our home. We shared a common middle class background and values and had loving, caring but strict parents. We were a happy lot.
All three of us were in the same class because we were all M.P.C group. For the uninitiated, M.P.C stood for Mathematics, Physics and Chemistry. Maths was undoubtedly my most favored subject and I did pretty well in that. Teachers who taught us were called “Lecturers” those days. We had male lecturers teaching us Mathematics and Chemistry whom we addressed as ‘Sir’ and we had a female lecturer who taught us Physics whom we addressed ‘Madame’.
While I and Krishna were evenly matched, Ramana who was older than us by two years was weaker at studies and better at sports. (He failed in his school final earlier and that was how he ended up as our classmate.) After the first monthly tests at the college, Ramana fared rather poorly in physics and maths and his father insisted that he take ‘ private tuition’.
Those were the days when the teachers (whether at school or college) were paid very low salaries. Many of them had to supplement their incomes by giving private tuition. Private tuition was an arrangement whereby students who were weak in a subject were given extra coaching, after school hours, usually at teachers’ home, for additional fees. Some teachers gave private tuition and some students took them.
Ramana started taking tuition in Physics from our Kamala Madame.
Kamala Madame was our Physics lecturer. She was a very popular, well respected teacher. People said that she was the best Physics lecturer the college ever had. Her ability to explain the complicated laws and concepts of physics with simple day to day examples in easy to understand terms was phenomenal. She was well respected by the faculty and the Principal. The students were in awe of her.
Kamala Madame was aged about thirty five years. She was about 5’5″ tall, medium fair in complexion and had very plain features. She always dressed conservatively in simple and cheap cotton saris that hid her body completely. Her black hair was always oiled and combed neatly in a single plait. She wore a very thin gold chain around her neck and a few colored glass bangles above her wrists. Kamala Madame elicited only one reaction from young or old – respect.
She was a spinster. Her father had died in an accident when she was in the final year of M.Sc. It was a big blow to her family that comprised of her mother and two younger sisters and an old, dependent grandmother. Immediately after her M.Sc, she joined our college as a lecturer. She was the sole bread winner for the family and took on all the family responsibilities.
She made sure that her younger sisters had good education and were married off decently. Her grandmother passed away a couple of years back. By the time she was free from her responsibilities; she lost all interest in marriage and remained a spinster. She now lived alone with her mother in a small rented house, close to the college.
Kamala Madame conducted some private tuition at home, to earn additional money to pay off the loans she took to perform the marriages of her sisters.
Ramana used to go for tuition daily from 6pm to 7pm except on Sundays. His understanding and performance in Physics improved dramatically. He started brainwashing us to take the tuition too, though we did alright in the subject. We wanted to improve further in the subject too. Krishna’s father said no to the idea while my father gave me permission. So, I joined my friend Ramana at the tuition.
Kamala Madame was surprised when I joined the private tuition.
“Sekhar, you are doing alright in Physics. Why do you want tuition?” She asked me.
“I want to improve further Madame, I want to do very well,” I said, a little shyly.
“Good, we will see,” she smiled.
Every evening Ramana and I would leave my home by 5-45pm. We would go to tuition on our bicycles. Those days students used bicycles or city bus. Cycle Rickshaws were the most popular mode of transport for families. There were no Auto Rickshaws and very few motor cycles. Scooters were yet to make a debut and Cars were very few and only for the rich. There was hardly any pollution due to automobiles!!
We were about eight boys in our tuition batch. Very soon, it was obvious that I was the best of this lot. Madame was really an expert teacher. She used to explain the concepts so well with day to day and live examples, often in our mother tongue Telugu. I used to follow her every single word with rapt attention.
Her voice was soft and melodious and she never raised it nor rebuked anyone. She was an embodiment of patience and never tired of repeating when someone didn’t understand. I started loving the tuition so much that I wouldn’t miss it for anything.
It is time to tell you a little more about me. I was considered an above average intelligent boy with average good looks. I was tall around 5’9″, very slim and fair to medium complexion. I played cricket and badminton and was a healthy lad. I was not very studious and loved to see movies with friends. Those days there were no TVs and the only entertainment at home was Radio. Thus most of us were fond of music – specially, Hindi filmy music from Radio Ceylon and the Binaca Geetmala of Amin Sayani.
Sex was a taboo for everybody those days. Even the word was never uttered in public and more so in the conservative middle class. It was not seen in movies, not heard on radio and not read in magazines or news papers. However, some students, mostly seniors, talked about it, lewdly and openly sometimes. When that happened, the rest of us heard them out with rapt attention and tried to learn.
That was how we basically learned about sex, about girls, the sex organs, the process and the methods – an assortment of fact and fiction, more of the later, perhaps. I had the natural sexual instincts of a youth of my age and responded to them in a secretive way.
I was essentially a boob man and every time I saw a girl or woman, my eyes would go to her boobs. If they were big and attractive, I tried undressing them in mind and visualizing them. As any other healthy lad, I masturbated often, in the privacy of our toilet or bathroom, fantasizing the boobs and thighs of my favorite heroines.
In short, I was like any other average young student of that time, no different.
After about a month of tuition, I became the blue eyed boy of Kamala Madame. She would occasionally ask me tough questions and pat me on the back when I answered them. She would ask me, sometimes, to explain a law or concept to others; allowing me to use the black board when necessary. Let me explain how she conducted her tuition.
In the front room of her home, she had the black board fixed on the wall. Madame would sit on a steel folding chair a little to the right of the board and facing us. More often than not, she would teach us standing and write on the black board with a piece of chalk. We sat on a mat spread on the floor, cross legged and facing her and the board.
Madame always dressed in simple cotton saris and she had this habit of double draping herpallu, (that portion of sari over her blouse) at the college. But at her home, she would drape her pallu only once over her blouse. I recall that one day when she turned to the board to write something, I noticed, for the first time, that a small strip of her back between the bottom border of the blouse and the sari covering her lower back and waist was visible.
As I looked at that bare strip, hardly inch wide, I got excited. It was the first time that I looked at kamala Madame as a woman. I cursed myself for such sinful thoughts and shifted my eyes to the blackboard. But I felt something changed in me that moment.
My eyes started looking for any exposed parts, however small the exposure was! Thus, I realized that Madame had nicely shaped hands with slim wrists and long fingers. Even the simple colored glass bangles on her wrists looked attractive and she had smooth and blemish less skin.
Later that night, in the privacy of my bed, my thoughts returned to Kamala Madame. For the first time, I thought of her not as my teacher; but as a woman. I knew it was wrong to think of my teacher in those lines but I was helpless. Madame had nice smooth skin. Her voice was soft and gentle.
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