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It was the end of the school year.

Graduation had been the night before, and students had been coming into class one by one to drop off textbooks and say their goodbyes.

It was approaching the end of the day, but there was one last student who had not yet come. She was his favourite student. She finished at the top of her class. She had a drive to learn and the brains to understand. The teacher recalled many late night phone calls with her, as he explained the various biological and chemical systems of the human body.

She was pretty, too. It was an understated beauty: she had a plain face, and slightly smallish breasts, but the way her face glowed when he complimented her in class… completely enchanting. She also had a way of being completely unaware of the position of her legs, leading to teacher attempting many times to look up her skirt, discreetly; but every time he tried, the hem of the dress barely obscured where her panties would have been.

Those legs. Those slender, long legs of a tall girl. He could look at those legs forever.


The teacher looked at the door, and there she was. She radiated joy.

“Ah! My favourite student!”

“My favourite teacher!” She embraced the teacher, in the way that all graduating seniors, even the ones who never hug anyone, turn into hugging machines at graduation and start hugging people they would never have been caught dead touching one month earlier.

“So I brought the book back…” The teacher took the book, and moved it to the book pile, and filled out paperwork as the student waited nervously.

Upon noticing the student’s behaviour, the teacher inquired “is there something else?”

“Yes.” The student began as if she had prepared this speech a few times. “As you know, my family is Indian, and I am a devout Hindu. One thing that used to be practiced by Hindus, though not so much anymore, is a concept called Dakshina.”

The teacher briefly raised his eyebrows and indicated for her to continue.

“Dakshina is a payment made by a student to a teacher at the conclusion to a period of studies. The student comes to the teacher and offers Dakshina, and the teacher will then have the right to make any request of the student, and whatever the teacher asks for, the student will do. It could be an item or object, or it could be a task or responsibility.

“Dakshina is best explained with a story from the Mahabharata. There was a commoner boy, named Ekalavya. He very much wanted to become an archer. He sought out the best archer in the land, Dronacharya, and asked to become an apprentice. However, the teacher refused him, because he already had a student, and because of Ekalavya was not from a warrior caste. But Ekalavya did not want to give up. So he built an idol statue of the teacher, and learned from that.

“After Ekalavya finished his training from the idol, he was the best archer in the land. He sought out Dronocharya and offered Dakshina. The teacher was torn. On the one hand, he was proud that his teachings had produced the best archer in the land. However, he had promised his other student that he would become the best archer in the land; and thanks to Ekalavya, his other student was now the second best archer in the land.

“So Dronocharya asked Ekalavya for his right thumb. And Ekalavya cut off his right thumb and gave it to his master. Because of what the teacher had asked for, Ekalavya could no longer be the best archer in the land; but as the teacher had been the one who gave Ekalavya his ability, it was the teacher’s right to ask for it back.

“You have been my favourite teacher. You have been my guide from the first day of high school. You have taught me much about biology and chemistry, but you taught me even more about how to act towards others; about how to act towards yourself; about how to live life. Because of all that you have done for me, I would like to offer the service of Dakshina to you. Anything you ask, I will do.”

The teacher was blown away by the offer. “I am honoured. Thank you.” But the teacher hesitated when deciding what to ask for.

“I can see in your eyes that you have thought of something to ask for, but are afraid to speak it’s name.”

“It is important to remain self-controlled at all times” the teacher replied. “That is the key to success in life.”

“But casino şirketleri a teacher should not withhold a request for the student’s sake. That would go against Dakshina. Anything you ask, I will do.”

“It is not just you I am concerned about; I have the law to keep in mind. I do not want to be fired or imprisoned.”

“I had suspected that you would think of a sexual request. I remember our long talks, late at night, and how you would talk freely about your loneliness, due to your inability to find a relationship partner.”

“I see that you have come to know me well.”

“I am 18 now: my birthday was last month.”

“It is not just about age of consent. Teachers can be fired for having sexual relations with a student.”

“I stopped being your student five minutes ago when I returned the book.”

This was true: she was no longer his student, and she was legal. Would she?

“Very well.” The teacher began his request. “As you know, I am a virgin. I would like to lose my virginity. My request of you is to have sex with you.”

The student appeared to expect that response, but protested anyways. “According to the Hindu faith, a man or woman should not have sexual relations until they are married. I was hoping to save my virginity until marriage.”

“Is not the Dakshina part of your faith as well?”

“Yes it is.”

“Then you have a conflict there.”

“I do.” She pondered for a moment. “Before I take on your task, let me ask: now that you have heard my objections to your task, do you still hold to your same request?”

“I do.”

“Very well. I will perform the task asked of me, and I will repay the debt I owe you for teaching me.”

The teacher was startled: he had not expected a yes. Was he, after all these years, finally going to lose his virginity?

His student began unbuttoning her blouse. “Wait: we can’t get caught doing it here.” The teacher went out into the hall, locked both doors into his classroom, and then turned the lights off. “Can we move to my office?”

“Whatever you ask, I will do.” And his favourite followed him into the office.

She began to unbutton her shirt again, but then paused. “I too am a virgin. I have no idea how to have sex. Would you guide me? Would you teach me one last time?”

Her words were music to his ears. This is why he became a teacher: to teach. “I would be glad to. Stand, facing me.”

She obeyed. The teacher sat down in his big comfy office chair. He cracked a smile.

“Take off your shoes.” She bent over at the waist, unbuckled her shoes, removed them, and neatly set them to one side.

“Take off your skirt.” Now it was her turn to crack a smile. She reached over to her side, unbuttoned her skirt, and then unwrapped, revealing a stunning pair of thighs that ended in a pair of pink panties that closely covered a quivering mound of flesh that was her vulva.

“Take off your pantyhose.” She put her right heel on the teacher’s desk, and carefully rolled her stockings from her waist down her right leg. Then she repeated the process with her left leg. And as her pantyhose went down her leg, it was as if her legs were going from a black and white movie to high definition: no, better than high definition, because this was real life.

“Take off your panties.”

She let out a laugh. “Going straight for the good stuff, are you?”

The teacher blushed. “If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to. You are still my favourite student, whether you stop or go on.”

“Absolutely not!” She caught herself after that momentary outburst, and went on. “Ever since I was in your class as an innocent ninth grader, I have been fantasizing about having sex with you. Your face is what I see when I masturbate. Your body is what I dream when my panties are soaked. My faith kept me from acting on this, but when I remembered Dakshina, I thought that this might be a way to both honour my faith and still get to have sex with you. I’ve been dreaming of this day for four years; don’t shatter my dreams now!”

The teacher was once again taken aback. “I have come to understand, after many years of teaching, that whatever fantasies I have about my students, they will never be reciprocated. That one student is finally just as into me, sexually, as I am into her, is such a wonderful surprise. And that it casino firmaları is you: I would not have chosen any other above you.”

The student immediately ran over the teacher and gave embraced him, half-nude, falling into his lap in the process and brushing against a growing boner. But instead of giving into his passions, the teacher re-asserted self-control. “Now, as I was saying: your panties.”

The teacher motioned for her to resume her position, standing a few feet away from his chair, facing him. She walked over, spun herself around, and then, shyly, and eyes focused on her master the entire time, slowly pulled down the last piece of clothing that protected her vagina.

Black pubic hair popped out from under her waistband, which then became a slight mound, best described as “cute” or “petite.” Then the beginnings of her cleft of venus showed up, from which slowly formed her lips, perfectly rounded and smooth, and no hint of inner lips showing.

“My word, you are beautiful!”

“Thank you” she said, shyly.

But the teacher needed to continue. “Please remove your blouse.”

The student unbuttoned her white blouse, slightly translucent, shaking her shoulders and arms free of the sleeves, revealing a black lace bra.

“Take off your bra.” The student reached behind her back, and unbuckled her bra. Then, watching the teacher’s face the entire time, she allowed her bra to slowly fall off of her chest, revealing a slightly bigger than expected pair of breasts. She was definitely not playing the tricks that her classmates did, of sticking rolled up socks into their bras to make their mammary glands seem bigger than they were: what you saw was somehow less than what she had.

She was more beautiful than the teacher had even fantasized. Her perfect, light-brown skin, radiated under the shafts of light that came in through the mostly closed blinds.

“Stand straight up. Shoulders back. Arms at your side. Feet slightly apart. There. Now you look like the noble young woman that you are.”

Again, when faced with such a compliment from the man she loved, the student had no choice but to impulsively give her teacher a naked embrace, curled up in his lap, in his chair.

“I’ve never touched a pair of breasts. May I touch yours?”

The student raised her arms above her head, to make her breasts stand out more. The teacher waited. Their eyes met. “Yes!” she answered. The teacher reached out and cupped her breasts. The experience was unlike anything he had ever imagined. Her breasts had just the right blend of give and firmness. He moved one around in a slight circular motion on her chest. He nestled the side of his face into her chest. She took a deep breath and sighed.

“May I see your vagina?”

She nodded yes, and began to open her legs, but the teacher motioned for her to sit on his desk. She hopped up onto his desk, and following his eyes, she slowly opened her legs.

“You know you have to lean back to expose your vagina, right?”

She blushed, and then followed the direction, reaching back with her arms for a balance point, and then rotated her hips until her vagina was in full view. He reached for her lips, and pulled them apart, revealing an engorged clitoris and an intact hymen. “So you are a virgin after all.”

“You doubted me?”

“No, I did not doubt you; I doubted your generation. So few make it to your age without having had sex. I believed you, but I am still amazed.”

“Are you really a virgin?”

“Yes. In fact, you are the first woman I have ever seen naked.”

“No way!”

“It’s true that I have seen porn before. I have watched much porn. Hundreds of hours of porn. I was so curious about sex and what sex was like that I looked up everything that could be looked up. But that was just a picture; a video. The highest quality recording of an orchestra that exists does not compare to sitting in a concert hall, live, and feeling the sound of a trombone hit you in the face. The most realistic POV porn video still has an actress that orgasms at the same mark every time you play it. The most high-definition video does not compare to the beauty of a real woman, with a real soul, and a real body, sitting here, naked, on my desk.

“No, I have never seen a naked woman. You are the first.”

She grinned. “Well I still haven’t seen güvenilir casino my first naked man.”

The teacher stood up, and quickly undressed, with far less care than his partner. Before twenty seconds had passed, he was standing, naked, as her eyes feasted on his naked flesh.

“Not what I expected. But it will do. And just as you said, this is no dream; and that makes you far better.”

The teacher stepped forward so that he was between her legs.

Hoping to impress his mate, he reached forward with his hands, and rubbed her vaginal crack, while intoning “before sex, a woman needs to get sufficiently wet and lubricated, or else sex will be very painful for her.” But when the teacher met the folds of her vulva, his fingers quickly became soaking wet.

“I’m not as inexperienced as you think. I have lots of experience with masturbation. I know what turns me on. And I know when I’m ready for a cock, and I am ready for yours.”

The teacher hesitated no more. “There may be a slight pain.”

“I know.” She reached around her teacher’s back, put her hands on his shoulders, meekly pressed the side of her face into his chest, opened her legs slightly wider, and waited.

The teacher cupped his hands around her butt, and pressed his penis into her. There was no give at first, but he used his left hand to guide his penis into the correct hole, feeling a slight dimple with his tip when he found it. Then he moved his hands back to her butt, and pushed. Slowly. She made no sound at first, but he could tell by the tightening of her grip that it stung her a little. After he got two inches inside, she started to gasp. Three inches, and she let out a little scream. As she screamed, her vagina suddenly opened up and his full length slid inside of her, ending her scream.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I feel… different. Full. I feel complete.”

The teacher smiled at her sudden maturation. He too had matured. For the first time in his life, he had put his penis inside of a woman. It was a woman who trusted him completely, who he had molded from a freshman girl into the brilliant young lady that she was today. The warmth, her warmth, around his penis, felt wonderful. He had never felt so loved in his entire life as he felt at this moment.

“Is this… sex?” she asked.

“No.” The teacher remembered his duties. He began thrusting inside of her.

For the next ten minutes, there was silence, except for the movement of physical bodies against each other. The two lovebirds communicated entirely by touch. She moved his hand to her breast. He turned her around and bent her over his desk, and did her doggy style. She moved his hand to her clitoris. He rubbed her. She moaned, quietly. He moved her to the floor, facing him, and entered her missionary style.

Every time she came close to cumming, he slowed down and denied her. Every time he came close to cumming, he pulled out and waited for a moment until the throbbing of his penis died down.

They tried their best to keep things quiet. She restrained every moan and every deep breath, but her restraint only made her hotter.

Finally, after they were both on the brink of cumming, he let himself go and began thrusting into her, quicker and quicker. She let out a deep breath; her eyes closed; her fingers and toes clenched. He unloaded his ejaculate deep into her. He collapsed onto her, while his penis continued to pump and throb inside of her.

They lay quietly, listening to each other breathe.

“So that is sex,” she sighed.

“So that is sex,” he marvelled.

It began raining outside. They lay, naked bodies wrapped around each other, listening to the patter of the drops on the window.

Thirty minutes later, she began to get up.

“Thank you, teacher. Now you have taught me everything about life.”

“Thank you for being my first” he replied.

“It was my pleasure.” As she gathered her clothes and turned to dress and leave, she quickly spun around and embraced her master one last time. This time she was sobbing.

“I trained you to succeed in the real world. Now it is time for you to go and shine.”

She nodded, and dressed herself. He helped her with her bra. When she was dressed, she walked out the door, turned to look, and smiled. And then she was gone.

The teacher sat, naked, for a few more minutes, pondering the events of that day. Then he rose, dressed himself, and locked his office for the summer. “This was a good year.”

Then, as he walked out of his classroom door, the thought hit him: “what if she’s pregnant?”

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