The Teacher

Die Lehrerin

Love binds our bodies and frees our souls


He could no longer bear the excruciation of such exquisite pleasure… Years later, they would run into each other in downtown Hamburg, sharing a cappuccino and reminiscing about the fling they had enjoyed with each other so long ago in Berlin. She had become a well-known family physician and he was a successful businessman, an American now, and in Germany on one of his frequent professional visits. Years later. But this was here and this was now, and Anna still was a 26-year-old medical student at the Humboldt University and Thomas, eight years her junior, was half way through is humanistic university education. They had met at the hospital. He had gone in for the day to have a cyst removed from under his right nipple and, being an intern, she had assisted in the procedure. When he came back a week later to have the stitches pulled, Anna was the one who pulled them – and they started talking, then went and had lunch together in the hospital cafeteria.


They didn’t say it at the time, but that’s when they realized it had been love at first sight. Love of a certain kind, he later found out – of the wild, the hot, the geil kind that sweeps you away in a vortex of desire, then lust, then ecstasy. Somehow, Thomas felt it right from the start: Here was a woman he simply could not resist even though he had Margarete, the classmate he was going steady with. Besides, Anna was probably irresistible because Thomas felt how much attracted to him she was. Her interest in him flattered him. She was so womanly when all the females he knew were… well: girls. Certainly not women. He had never seen a woman whose hips swayed like Anna’s! Those long, long legs, that long blond hair! Her mysterious eyes! Everythig about her turned him on, and when the opportunity arose and he could talk to her, Thomas was in Heaven. At night, in his bed, he fantasized about how experienced she might be in the art of making love. Would they meet again? Would she initiate him in these mysteries – make him wild for her? For love? Margarete could not very well deflower him because she was a virgin herself...


Anna had felt attracted to Thomas the minute she saw him and the feeling grew the more she saw him, talked with him. Anna liked men younger than herself, best of all if they were inexperienced in love. Thomas was young, tall, strong, acted like an overgrown child, and yet, betrayed a virility she found unsettling and challenging. Anna knew she had made an impression on him from the way he looked at her. The more she thought of it, the more it confused her. She decided to investigate further. And one day she had to admit it to herself: She wanted this man, this boy, wanted to be possessed by him, wanted to possess him in return. Some evenings Anna, who was between boyfriends just now, dreamt about being with Thomas, seeing him naked, aroused, maybe crying his lust out in her arms. And Anna knew: Thomas’s last post-op visit to the hospital would be her last chance to get to know him better. “How would you like to spend a little time with me when I’m NOT working?” she asked with a little uncertain tremble in her voice.


"Oh Yes!" Thomas was all for it, in fact had secretly tried to find a way of seeing Anna again. And now it was done, and Anna went the whole way. “Maybe you could pick me up at my apartment and we’d go to the Zoo.” Four days later Thomas was there, and they went to the Zoo, then to Anna’s apartment. They both knew it would be inevitable – before very long, they lay in each other’s arms, kissing insatiably, endlessly. Thomas felt her opening his shirt, his slacks, and he sensed that he could do the same for Anna. And then they were naked and beheld each other’s beauty as if they’d just received precious gifts. Kneeling on Anna’s big bed, they touched each other in wonderment. She traced the muscles of his chest, his stomach, his thighs, touched the strength of his rising phallus, spreading his love juice all over the knob. And Anna was far bolder than Thomas, took the hands that explored her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, and led them to her hot, wet love nest. He was so much taller, stronger than she, yet it was Anna and her experience in the art of love who was now leading the young man in her arms. They stopped every few minutes as they explored each other’s bodies to kiss again, feel each other’s tongues. Thomas had never experienced such passion. Anna licked his neck, his chest, sucked on his nipples, bit him, then kissed his eyes as he lay under her and let her have her way with him.


He was in Seventh Heaven as she loved him. And when she impaled herself on his penis and sat straight as a rod, loving him with gentle strokes and nearing her own explosion, he was sure he had never seen anything more beautiful than this naked young woman in the throes of her passion, showing him just what he was doing to her, how she felt. Anna was whimpering now, racing toward her own private heaven. When Thomas reached for her breasts, she stopped moving, bent down and fed her nipples into his mouth, moaning with the feeling his sucking lips gave her. Half mad with her lust, Anna thrust her tongue into his mouth and kissed him as if it was the first time she had ever kissed a man. And suddenly her orgasm overtook her. She reared straight up, stopped breathing, drowned in her passion – and the piercing scream of her lust drove Thomas over the edge and his manhood exploded deep within her, for the very first time flooding the core of a woman with his seed. He had squirted his passion into Margarete’s hand, had shown her to masturbate him and spilled onto his own flat stomach. Yet, nothing had ever felt as wonderful as this as he groaned and twitched under her and thought he was going to die on the spot. He had never thrust into the vagina of a woman. The feeling of his first orgasm deep inside Anna, with her inner muscles caressing him as he came, shook Thomas to the core.


Now that it was over, Thomas was a man, no longer a boy, and Anna smiled at the thought that she had taken his virginity. She reminisced on how delicious it had been for her to experience his first full orgasm inside her. She still contained him, bent down again and kissed him deep and with incredible tenderness and love. She moved her inner muscles around the phallus,  still half hard and buried in her. Thomas stretched and moaned with the pleasure of  his afterglow now. Then they lay in each other’s arms and she held him as he had always wanted to be held and rocked back and forth by the gentle motion of her pelvis. Soon, Thomas was asleep and Anna looked at him lovingly. “Thank you, Darling,” Anna whispered. “Oh how I love you, you beautiful, young stallion. You have no idea how wonderful this was for me. And I am going to drive you wild with my love.”


For the next few weeks, the two young people got together whenever possible. Thomas started cutting classes just to make love with Anna. And then their greatest hunger was stilled, their first great thirst quenched. And Anna decided to initiate her stallion in the deeper secrets of sensuality. She remembered how she had felt a few years earlier when Helmut, a distant cousin, had seduced her. Finding her beauty irresistible, Helmut had started short affair with Anna and taught her the art of love as he knew it. Now Anna was going to pass to Thomas what she had learned from Helmut.


She started by showing him the many ways to arouse a woman to the point of torture and keeping her on the brink of  ecstasy for a long time before finally letting her explode. “Kiss my breasts,” she whispered one day as she sat naked on his lap. “See if you can make me come by just licking, sucking me.” Thomas listened to Anna’s ragged breathing as he himself became hard from what he was doing. Every now and then Anna pulled back, bent down and kissed him deeply, then let him to her nipples again. “Quickly quickly! Put your fingers inside me and keep them very still,” she whispered urgently. “You’ll feel when I am coming. And I will feel you.” A few minutes later Thomas felt her spasm, felt her nectar in the palm of his hand as it flowed, heard her cry out, received her wild kiss when her crisis convulsed her.


And Thomas was an eager student. This evening, he found Anna on her almost dark balcony as he walked up to her apartment block. “Door is open,” she said, “let yourself in. I can’t wait to feel your hands.” Thomas locked her apartment door after himself, joined her on the balcony, realizing that she was highly aroused. Anna stood at the railing, moaning lustfully. She did not wear a brassiere, had opened her blouse and was touching her nipples to the cold metal rail. “Ooohhh Thomas,” she moaned, “I am sooo geil for you! I have waited for you so desperately.”  Thomas reached for her breast to caress her further, but she stopped him.


“No Darling: Kneel behind me. Lift my skirt! Caress me!” Thomas did. Now he saw those wonderful endless legs that had driven him mad the day he’d met her. Anna had opened her legs a little and Thomas saw that she was without a slip – only long, strapless stockings reaching to the very top of her thighs. Feeling her, stroking her, gave Thomas a full erection and he opened his trousers to free his phallus. Anna noticed it. “Don’t take me yet, Darling,” she said with a trembling voice. “Press two fingers inside me and move them very gently. I don’t want to come yet.” Anna wanted to relish her arousal tonight and deny herself final satisfaction until her lust had driven her frantic. Within seconds, Thomas had shed his clothes, was back behind her and slowly stroked Anna between her legs,  working his way to her pussy. Oh, how wonderful she smelled right now, how hot she was. Tenderly, he inserted two fingers, began stroking her deep inside. Anna moaned, groaned, panted, told him to stop again and again to postpone her heaven.


And Thomas was frantic, begging her to come to the bed. When she couldn’t stand the tension any more and her knees were giving way she followed Thomas, allowed him to undress her slowly. A dozen kisses later and breathless, she made Thomas lie on his back. “Let me love you my way today. Just tell me when you can’t stand it anymore,” she said. Helmut had shown her how a woman can drive her lover mad by stroking the underside of his knob in a circular motion with the flat palm of her hand. Now Thomas lay on her bed, undergoing his first sweet love torture.


His nectar was flowing as Anna moved her circles. He was panting, sweating, writhing under her hands. His head whipped back and forth and from side to side. He begged her to let him take her. He could barely stand what she was doing to him and her own fountain was flowing just from watching him in his sweet agony. Anna rose, left briefly, then returned with a shaving dish full of whipping cream and a soft shaving brush. Thomas did not quite know what would come next, but soon found out when Anna started to stroke his knob with the frothy brush.


The young man in Anna’s bed was close to distraction with desire now, begging her to stop. “Oohhh please!! PLEASE!! PLEASE!! Anna!! ANNAHH!! MAKE ME COME!! I CAN’T HOLD BACK ANY M. . . OOOHHHH!! This is so wonderful!! OOOOOHHH Please!! Annah! PLEEEZE! Make me come! DARLING!!!” Anna was close to completion herself. It would be wonderful to explode together with Thomas. Only a little longer – a little – a little. . . longer! And then they could no longer bear the excruciation of such exquisite pleasure and Anna gave herself and Thomas the ultimate ecstasy. She swung her body on top of his, let him impale her – moved in swift, soft, rolling thrusts above him, riding them both to orgasm. During the last moments before her crisis Anna stopped breathing, then her feelings spilled over:


“OOHHHH!! DARLING! I’M COMING I’M COMING!! OHHH HOW WONDERF… NNNOWWW!!” As they both exploded, they screamed their lust together, convulsed for what felt like an eternity, collapsed loudly panting and covered in sweat. Thomas knew he had never been loved like this before, but he knew he would experience this again and again IN HIS LIFE – with Anna or with Margarete back in Wilmersdorf. Anna held him in her arms again. After the hurricane of lust they had just experienced, she felt nothing but tenderness for him right now. And just before they drifted into the happy, deep sleep of their sweet exhaustion, Thomas looked at her sleepily and said: “I love you, Anna! We must have more together – other things, too – outside this place!” Anna looked at him: “No,” she said. “For me anything more than this, would be less. Anything other than this is less than this!”


And then it was autumn again. For the past few months, Thomas had been enchanted by the indescribable love of this fascinating woman. Still and all -- there still was Margarete, his girlfriend -- the girl with whom he had shared such closeness almost from the moment he had met her. After all, he remembered: He did love her, loved her still --. Shared with her, even though it had been "only" soul, "only" heart, because at the beginning they had been too young for physical intimacy. Now everything had changed, and when he thought of Margarete in a sexual sense he forgot everything else -- even Anna!


And Anna was aware of a quaint sense of nostalgia. She felt distinctly that his interest in her had primarily been a matter of sex, a matter of lust -- hers and primarily his, feelings he needed to explore and become comfortable with. Anne couldn't even be angry with Thomas, for she sensed exactly what had really happened between them. After all, it had been his universal masculinity that had fascinated her, not so much his personality as the young, inexperienced man. She sensed that he had begun taking his leave of her. By the time they had had their final sexual encounter, Anna had accepted this finality. Still, she had a sense of grieving by the time he got on his bicycle that last day, pedalling away from her apartment with all the power of his young life. She had tears in her eyes and whispered, "come back, darling. But Thomas never did return. 


It took a full 20 years until she saw Thomas again -- in Hamburg. He had gone back to his Margarete.

© Nimrod