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Dating professor stories

We chatted about the Story of Gilgamesh, or something still true and liberal-artsy. Datiny We had for around six origins. You may have had that Harvard University did sex between origins and had students. Towards the true of my junior are, I did up with a senior who had the same out, Dr.

Share your own story below.

The 10 Best Student-Professor Sex Stories, Courtesy of Our Own Readers

You may have heard that Harvard University banned sex between professors and enrolled students. He was a visiting prof from California and was the kind of Dtaing who played guitar in class, while his wife had remained in Cali. This was a school on the east coast. His office was entirely furnished with bean bag chairs. It was a poetry class. I could tell he was a creep, but was sort prfessor into Fuck girl in hamburg taboo-ness of it. He invited me over to dinner at his house, which was macrobiotic, he claimed to be a master of karmic sex magic, and revealed that he had a special room in his house just for sex, which was covered in purple velvet.

The next Datting, he had a major guilt attack, revealed the open Dting thing to be a lie, and repeatedly questioned whether I had HIV. The sex was unprotected, Datiing I was on the profexsor. The second one was less creepy, but also weird. It was extremely frustrating. I was 29; he was 45, bald, and out of shape, but there was just something about him. I worked in the field he taught prior to law school, so I was more knowledgeable on the subject matter than the average student in the class and we always exchanged witty banter back and forth. After the class ended, we ran into each other at a networking event. It was an open bar and we both drank too much.

Profeesor exchanged phone numbers under the guise of networking. I vaguely Dxting saying that I would sleep with you. I broke it off because I eventually figured out he was happily married and still living with his wife. At the start of things, he indicated that he was separated from his wife and in the process of a divorce. Part II So threesome details. Hope this satisfies you perverts. We were exchanging fantasies, and I mentioned that MFM storis was my Dahing and I would love to experience it. Professor Sleazeball was very turned Dating professor stories Dxting this and encouraged me to find someone as a third.

I set up an account on Adult Friend Finder and found the perfect guy. He was totally stries physical type: We met at a bar first to see if we all got along, and we did, so we left for my place. Professor encouraged me to kiss Third while he watched, and then I would kiss Professor. Things escalated from there, at first each taking turns, and then eventually it turned into more of a group activity. I was always the center of attention and there was never any deliberate physical contact between the guys. Afterwards, Professor Sleazeball and I would exchange our favorite details of the encounter. Basically just dipping his toes in. After I figured out about the wife, Third texted me hoping for round two.

We met and hooked up sans Prof, and then ended up dating for 6 months or so. We told our friends we met online. His wife was in a long term coma, so 19 year old me had zero compunction about a never present wife in a faraway nursing home. All kinds of nonsense, including on the desk of his office, while students played frisbee on the quad below. I pretty much stopped going to class, as all of my courses were held in his building, with him as professor, or with the student who supplanted me. Dropped out of school, moved away, got married, moved to another state, established residency, and finally graduated college. Loved loved loved him. He drove an unusual car and when I saw one of them I would flinch and my heart would race, ten years and thousands of miles away.

I dreamed about him for twenty years, no lie. He lent me books, he broke my schoolgirl heart. I was a Senior at college, and not quite out yet at the time. One night during spring break I was supposed to catch up with these friends to go bar-hopping, but I got out of work late and missed them at the first stop on our rounds, a bar not far from campus. He was also gay, and while he thought he was closeted, it was a pretty open secret on campus. I also thought he was very attractive. So with a plan in mind, I went up to him to say hello.

Which turned into a lengthy conservation. He deflected it at first, but gradually he became clearly interested After all, messing around with a student could seriously backfire on him. But eventually I won him over with promises of discretion, and we went back to his place for the night. I had a great time, and hope he did too. We only hooked up that one time, and kept things casual when we crossed paths for the remainder of the semester. Yeah, I hooked up with some students. About five years after I graduated college, I got an invitation to return to my alma mater to do some teaching.

I was 25, newly single and had a good job in the industry I was teaching. I taught on the side of my regular job for three years. Fucking sensational hourly rate, and I really enjoyed teaching. I was teaching an English-related course, so I challenged a lot of students to play. This one sent me a drunk IM on the app one Saturday night right after semester finished, I replied equally drunkand we ended up trading numbers. We texted back and forth for a couple days before she made it very clear that she wanted a no-strings sexual relationship. She showed up at my doorstep crying, banging on the door, asking the neighbors to let her into the apartment building.

She was engaged less than a year later. I decided a few weeks out from the end of semester that once I was done marking her work, I was going to throw caution to the wind and ask her on a date. All this flirting had to go somewhere, right? We dated for around six months. Once I picked up the pieces of my shattered heart after we broke up, there were a couple more student hookups in my final year of teaching. I slept with him, repeatedly, over the course of several years. It all began 10 years this week. I was 17, and he At first it was innocent enough. I bummed a smoke off him at morning lecture break. We chatted about the Epic of Gilgamesh, or something similarly innocuous and liberal-artsy.

He wore Ray-Bans before they made a comeback, plaid before it became a hipster trend, and he had a nervous, charming, rambling beatnik-meets-Tom Waits aura about him like he was on the verge of either mental collapse or genius. We drank, we smoked pot, we drank some more. All of a sudden it was just him and me left on his scratchy tartan couch. Surrounded by empty bottles of red wine and smoky stacks of collected rare books, you can imagine what happened next. The rest of my undergrad experience was peppered with our sexual encounters and spirited — at times dangerous — adventures.

I became friends with his young sons.

Datnig met his mother. I hosted soirees for faculty and students Dating professor stories at his downtown apartment. One night, we stpries a little too carried away and he was arrested for drunk driving, with yours truly in the passenger seat. It even made the front page of the local news. My laid-back, west coast father came to the east coast and met him. Then my hardworking, big city mother came to the east coast and met him. My friends were polarized — they thought the relationship was either charming or revolting. As for me, I felt emboldened.