Hi, my name is Paul. I’m a single guy aged 29, and after my MBA, I found employment with one of the top MNCs in Bangalore. I’m 5’7″, athletic and an award-winning endurance cyclist. If you’re a cyclist, chances are we know each other.
Coming straight to the story, I had an affair with my statistics Professor, Nancy (Name Changed for obvious reasons). She wasn’t old, I was 24, and she was 32 at that time. I live in Bangalore. I am an MBA graduate.
It all started in 2nd semester when we had a new Statistics teacher. My first impression, she was stunning. Not smoking hot but more beautiful in the ‘Girl Next Door’ way. She was very strict, or at least she was trying to be, which I learned later.
She had done her PhD and then worked in an MNC in Pune for 1 year. Her father was working in a public sector bank and was working out of state. Her mother knew one of the trustees of our University. That’s how she got an interview and a job at the University.
As always, some eager girls and a couple of wannabe boys in every college want to do everything. Thus within 3 days, a Whatsapp group was created. Every student and Nancy were added to the group. I said she was strict but friendly with girls.
She used to dress in salwar and leggings, which accentuated her curves. Now boys being boys, some sent her good morning and good night messages. She sternly replied, ‘Don’t message me personally unless it is urgent.’ Now every boy knew she wasn’t to be fucked with.
Thus, living in her fear and fantasies, 1 month went by and came the month of August. I was on the student council committee as well as on the college magazine committee. After college, I had to go to a new Shawarma joint for the college magazine.
I interviewed the owner and had a complementary Shawarma on the house. (YAY!). By the time I returned to the college to submit the interview, almost every student had left. Most teachers were on leave as well. I ran to the Extra Curricular In charge Professor and gave her the interview on the flash drive.
As I entered the parking space to get on my bike, I saw Nancy sitting in her car, crying. I was perplexed. The ‘Nancy’ I knew was badass and unnerving. And here she was, crying in her car. I was stunned, unable to understand what to do, whether to leave or talk to her.
After 2 minutes, which seemed like an eternity, I tapped on her window. She was startled. Frantically wiping her eyes, she opened the window and glared at me, asking, “What are you doing here at this time?” I said, “Magazine work.” After a pregnant pause, I asked, “Sab kuch thik hai na?”(Is everything alright?)
We used to talk in English in the classroom. But somehow, I felt that talking in Hindi at that time was better. She sniffled a couple of times and replied, “Kuch nahi, bas yuhi.”(Nothing much, it’s alright.) I said warmly, “No one cries when everything’s alright. Do you feel like talking about it?”
She might have been taken aback by my warm tone and mature approach. She stared at me for quite some time. In her defence, I was always a last bencher, passing comments and sniggering with my buddies on vulgar jokes and shitty puns. She opened her mouth to say something but stopped.
I asked, “Trouble at home?” I half expected her to say, “Piss off.” But what she said shocked me to the core. Not because of the answer but due to her willingness to be open with me. She said she had just broken up with her boyfriend of 4+ years.
They met in college, where both of them were doing their PG. She suddenly became aware of her surrounding, realizing she was still in the college parking. She said thank you to me. Before I could even say, “Drive safe,” she had rolled up her window, reversed her car and drove off.
I reached home at 5 pm instead of the regular 1 pm. I went straight to my room. I just sat on the bed thinking about Nancy. Her old image as a strict teacher broke up in my mind. At 6, my friend called me asking me to come down. I washed up and went out.
When I returned at 9 pm, all thoughts of Nancy had left my mind. At 11:30, I received a Thank You message on WhatsApp from an unknown number. I opened up the chat, and the DP was of Nancy. I was surprised and didn’t know how to react.
Since I had opened the chat, I was sure she must have seen the blue tick. I replied under pressure, “It’s OK.” I then asked her why did she break up. She said her boyfriend didn’t want her to return to Nagpur, but she did anyway. She believed that the long-distance relationship would work.
But 2 months after moving here, she came to know he had cheated on her. A mutual friend had seen him at a café being intimate with a chick. She called him. After an intense argument on the phone, they broke up. It had all happened in the parking lot minutes before I arrived.
I said, “It happens. I, too, have had bad breakups 2-3 times.” She said it felt better opening up to me. She requested me not to tell anyone about it as someone might see her differently. I said OK. That was that, atleast for the time being.
She didn’t come to college for 3 days. I was worried that she might still be pining about the breakup. I called her after college. She picked up on 2nd ring.
Me: You OK? You haven’t come to the college for 3 days now.
Nancy: Yeah, I didn’t feel like it. Can you meet me somewhere today?
Me: (in a surprised tone) Wait, what?
Nancy: I need to talk to someone. Since you already know what happened, I would feel better talking to you.
Me: (still shocked) Yeah, sure. There is this Truffles. Can you do 6 pm?
Nancy: OK. See you then.
I was surprised, but at the same time, I felt sorry for her. I had 3 failed relationships at that point. I was cheated on in the 3rd one. So I empathized with her. I reached Truffles on time, and she was parking her car. I instantly said, ‘Wow’ when I saw her wearing jeans and tight fitting top. She looked gorgeous.
No one could tell she was 32. I had recently started to keep my beard rather than trim it off. I could pull off a 28+ year look. We ordered coffee, and I was looking awkward. She said, “I felt like talking to someone.”
On the day of the breakup, when she went home, her mom figured something was wrong. To keep her mom off her case, she faked illness. I jokingly said that all the boys missed her. She smiled, and I was a little relieved. She noticed it and asked, “Why are you so tense?”
I said, “You are very strict in class. Almost everyone knows how you blew off those boys who messaged you personally.” She replied, “This is my first time teaching anyone ever. That, too, young boys at that. So I decided to take a no BS stand right from the start to let everyone know I mean business.”
I said, “It works up to a certain level. But the boys still talk about you a lot. In the sea of old men and women, you are the most beautiful teacher.” I said that before I could hold my tongue, and my eyes widened. She stared at me for a couple of seconds and laughed, throwing her head back.
She said, “Looks like I failed in my no-BS approach.” I replied slyly, “we are not in the class anymore.” We then talked generally about our families, and gradually the topic moved to my relationships. I told her that the first was a normal relationship, but the 3rd one was serious.
The moment I said I found that she had cheated on me, her face became sad. She said, “I’m sorry. Looks like you were destined to find me in that parking lot. Or you are a stalker.” I smiled, and that seemed to lighten the mood. I asked casually, “Was it a serious relationship?”
She replied, “We were living together for 1 year.” I nodded matter-of-factly. We were talking for almost 1 hour when my friend called me. It was Saturday evening, and we had a ritual of drinking a beer. I picked up the call and endured my friends’ abuse for forgetting to call him.
I said I would meet him at the usual place by 7:30. Nancy overheard my cryptic reply. She asked with a wink if it was my special lady friend and if the usual place was her home.
I replied sheepishly, “I don’t have a special lady friend, just many girls who are my friends. Much like Sheldon saying, Amy Farrah Fowler is a girl who happens to be my friend, not my girlfriend.” I told Nancy about my ritual of beer on weekends.
I asked in a casual tone, “Do you drink?” She replied with a plain face, “I lived away from my parents for 3 years in a growing urban city (Pune). What do you think?” I grinned at her. She paid the bill (after a lot of “no ways” and complaining on my part).
She said, “You can pay for my beer later. Then we will be even.” I could have kissed her at that moment. We went to the parking lot. My bike was further away than her car, so we said goodbye to her car. I reached for my bike and sat on it. I picked up my phone to let my friend know I was reaching in 15 minutes.
I sent the message and put the key into the ignition when I heard the clip-clop of sandals. I turned around to see Nancy walking towards me. I got off my bike. She said, “You must think I’m a pathetic mess boring you off with my sob story.”
I replied, “Don’t talk like that. Everyone needs a friend to talk to. I’m just glad I could be that person.” She said, “It’s surprising to see this mature and sensitive side of you. I may have judged you a bit sooner.”
I laughed it off by replying, “I can say the same thing about you. You are not at all strict, no BS tolerating person I had judged. Being sensitive and mature didn’t stop my ex from cheating on me. Sometimes you need to say “Fuck You” and move on.”
Nancy stared at me for some time, and then suddenly, she kissed me. It was like I was stupefied. I couldn’t even move to resist her (not that I wanted to). After 5 seconds, she pulled off. I stood still, with my mouth open, looking like a retard. All I could say was, “What?”
She said, “I just wanted to do it after listening to how you talk.” I was still stunned. She said, “I knew it was a bad idea. I’m sorry if I overstepped any line.” Then she turned around and started to walk to her car. I caught up with her halfway, held her hand and planted a kiss on her lips.
Just as I was pulling away, she responded in the most passionate way anyone ever did. When we finally pulled off, she said, “Thank you for that. I needed that.” She pecked me softly on my cheek and walked away. I went to my bike and sat on it.
I was contemplating what the fuck had just happened. But mostly, I was sitting there waiting for my boner to subside. I was woken up from my trance when I received a message from my friend confirming to meet up in 15 minutes. I reached the beer shop to find the gang waiting up for me.
Seeing me dressed up in a crisp shirt, new chinos and converse sneakers, my friend commented, “Never knew you to dress up so well for me!” I absent-mindedly said, “I was visiting a college friend.” These guys were my school friends.
Deep in thought, I was sitting there, nursing a pint of Bud and a Marlboro Red. Half of me wanted to blurt out that I had just kissed my teacher. The other half wanted to take this secret to the grave. I somehow survived 1 hour with the gang and went home. I hardly remember having dinner with my family.
I bolted to my room after dinner. My elder sister comes into the room and asks whether everything is alright. I could never lie to her. She knows everything about me. My relationships include hookups when I sneak out at night with my friends. So naturally, she knew something had happened.
I knew I couldn’t shrug it off, so I told her I ran into my ex. She nodded sympathetically. She said, “I’m here if you need to talk.”
The next day in college, I was eagerly waiting for Nancy to come. In her lecture, I was shamelessly staring at her the whole time. She looked at me a couple of times. I knew she was trying hard not to smile.
During the break, I received a text from her saying, “Stop staring at me so hungrily (with a winking smiley). Someone might think something happened between us.” I broke away from the group and replied, “Didn’t it already happen? (winky smiley).”
Nancy replied with a sly smile. I decided to push my luck and asked, “So when can it happen again?” and held my breath. She replied after 5 minutes, “My mom is going out shopping on Thursday (after 3 days). I’ll text you my address and the time to come. Would you like to?”
I quickly reply yes. Before the start of the next lecture, I quickly went to the toilet and adjusted my boner. I had never waited for any Thursday so longingly. Before riding out to her place, I bought a pack of chocolate-flavoured condoms. It always pays to buy a pack off rather than go home and jack off.
I went up to the 6th floor and rang the bell. She was wearing a yellow-coloured sleeveless top and shorts. I went in. I asked, “So?” She said, “Sit beside me.” I started kissing her before she could say anything. I pulled off and asked, “Did you want to say anything?”
She said, “Not anymore,” She came onto me, and we started kissing. It was heavenly. My left hand was working under her top, on her bra straps. My right hand was on her ass over her shorts. Before I could proceed with her bra, she said, “We shouldn’t.”
I stopped and said dumbly, “But I even bought condoms, yaar.” Nancy looked at me with surprise. She got up, took my hand and led me to her bedroom. Well, you know what happened then. Since I had bought a pack of 3, we did it 3 times. It was August. The weather was humid.
We were drenched with sweat before we even began. I lasted a little more than 5 minutes the first time. I was out of practice for 6 months. The second time I did a solid 10+min session. The third time, she rode me, and she came on me. I was gasping for breath.
We lay curled into each other for half an hour, and she stroked my dick while I fondled her breasts. Finally, I got up, washed my genitals quickly and dressed up since her mom was due to come in half an hour. I quickly helped her change the sheets. Before leaving, we had one long kiss.
It was all I could think about for the whole week. Statistics lecture was torture after that. Nancy decided to acknowledge that I didn’t even exist. It worked for her, as her teaching didn’t suffer. Meanwhile, I was struggling even to keep attentive gestures in class.
A few times, my friends even caught me daydreaming. Nancy and I decided not to text each other during college. Another problem was free time. Her mom had a tailoring business to keep herself busy. She used to leave her house for approx. 3 hours between 3-6 pm.
I couldn’t leave my house between 3-6 because it was an odd time to leave. My mom or grandmother would know I was up to something. Nevertheless, we still managed to get together at least once a week, if not more. October came and passed.
I had a mid-term exam in college and barely got passing marks in one subject out of 7 (six guesses about which subject!). So I decided to get coaching in statistics. I told Nancy about my poor marks, and she kept a poker face. She was the one who graded my paper in the first place!
I said, “Duh.” Then I came up with my most explosive idea ever. I asked her whether I could come to her place for tuition. She was lost for words as to exactly what I had in mind. I said, “We could study when your mom is home and when she’s not….”
Nancy said she‘d think about it. She called me later at night, saying she talked to her mom about coaching me, and her mom asked, “Why do you feel like coaching? You have a good salary.” Nancy said, “I like to be busy.” Finally, her mom agreed.
I nearly shouted in happiness after hearing that. I told my parents about it, and they agreed readily after seeing my grades. So it began. When Nancy’s mom was around, I studied. Maybe it was the seriousness of passing the subject, or I had gotten over the excitement of sex with Nancy, but I studied sincerely.
Nancy was a pro in the area of sex. Unlike my Exes, she was ready to try new positions. She was a blowjob expert. We enjoyed every minute of it. In December, the guys decided to go to Goa. We left on 26th Dec. and returned on 4th Jan. 10 days without sex had been very difficult for me.
I texted Nancy I was back. She said to come to her place on the 7th. So I endured 3 more days. After 13 days, both of us wanted just one thing. We didn’t even kiss. We didn’t even remove our clothes properly. We just did it on the couch.
Once, her mom was going out of the station. Those 4 days were the wildest days I’ve ever lived. We did it anywhere we could. On the couch, the centre table, the dining table, the kitchen counter, the sink, on her bedroom floor, against her bedroom’s French windows, and the shower.
It continued well over 14-15 months, starting on 16th Aug. until 17th Dec. in my third semester. Right about then, her father got retired and moved back home. To top it off, her parents started searching for a suitable partner for her marriage. Somehow, that news put a damper on our mood.
I graduated in May. But I hadn’t seen her since March. The last time we had sex was in December when her parents were out of the station to attend a marriage. We didn’t sleep that night at all. I guess we somehow knew this would be the last time. I lost count of how many times we had sex that night.
We were a little drunk, though. I haven’t talked to her since March. For all I know, she could be engaged by now. I guess both of us knew it would end this way. I miss her sometimes, but she was just a phase I went through. Though the wildest phase, no doubt.
This is my darkest secret which I never plan to tell anyone.
Readers, thank you for reading my story. I would love to hear your thoughts on this. Is there any experience from your teachers that you still think about? You can email me at [email protected].