Learning That Lasts

I'm a fully qualified teacher...My story goes back to when I was training to take up the job. You already seemed to have been at school forever, but at age eighteen you had to go back to school again ( they called it university...but to me it was much like school again ). This time ' school ' was supposedly...to train so that you could .....go back to school...this time to teach. It was largely a club for middle class ' youths ' passing time, delaying the awful day when they had to finally go out to work. I was honestly keen to teach. I'd admired male and female teachers while a pupil....I saw it as my ' calling ' to go out to educate the nations youth....Oh the naivete of my OWN youth.

Almost all the students on my course were very laid back.. The blokes spent most of their time in the bar, playing at beng men.. The girls largely spent their time enjoying the freedom to spend their ' grants ' without a fussy parent interfering, and willingly spreading their legs if one of the ' blokes' had a spare ten minutes. Just a few students seemed committed to learning the job. First Teaching Practice was the acid test...It was for me...but nothing quite prepared me for the following...

Myself and two other girls had been allocated a big inner city Primary School in the nearby city to do our four week practice in. The school was really too big with 500 children packed into fourteen classes. Most of the kids were strangers to the staff. It was very different to the sort of Primary School that I had been taught in. The class I was assigned to was a motley assortment consisting of a considerable number of ' slow learners ' and immigrant, Far Eastern children with little or NO English.. Largely they were NOT slow learners. Their problems stemmed mainly from the fact that English was the second language used at home. The other two students seemed to have ordinary classes though....I started to worry..

I had plenty to be worried about...The kids were ......Well KIDS... ! Their lack of English, and my inexperience gave me dark forebodings as to whether I could survive the four weeks of my practice. The one ' Highlight ' amidst all my depression was Carolyn, ( Cara - from here on ) the class teacher. Cara was tall, dark and had striking blue eyes, accentuated by her very pale complexion. She was late thirties, early forties ..ish. She had the odd grey hair, but it didn't detract from her pretty, perfectly made up face. Cara was fantastic wth the kids. She was kind, funny, easy going and could be quite ' off the wall ' with the kids. However her teaching, discipline and work ethic were fantastic as well. The kids adored her, and I admired her teaching skills.

The teaching practice wasn't going to be easy but Cara was always there offering advice, help and a supportive, smiling face. On the Thursday of the first week all three of us students were called to an after school meeting with the headteacher, to assess how things were going. Briony and Lisa had worn their special ' tight' clothes, and unfastened an extra couple of blouse buttons in an effort to impress the balding headteacher....It worked ! !

The two girls had smiling praise lavished on them....Then the attention turned to me. Apparently my laziness, poor discipline and poor lesson preparation was putting me in grave danger of failure. I thought I'd worked hard in difficult circumstances. I could feel myself blushing as my eyes started to fill with tears. At that moment the door swished open, and in breezed a smiling Cara apologising for being late. ' A parent came in to see me ' was her cheery explanation. Her eyes met mine and she immediately wanted to know what was going on. The head repeated his reservations about me to Cara, who just stood there shaking her head. When the ' character assassination ' was over Cara simply let fly.. She spoke bluntly, leaving the head in no doubt what she thought of his character assessment of me. I forget exactly what she said...it was all a blur. I do remember her parting shot at the head though...asking HOW he could assess anyone's teaching ability, when he hadn't got a clue how to teach ANYONE! She concluded her verbal assault by questioning the sanity of putting a first year student straight into such a difficult teaching environment. Silence met the end of her tongue lashing.. Cara beckoned me out of the room reminding the stunned audience that ' Some of us STILL have work to do !'

In a lovely soft and reassuring voice, Cara apologised over and over for the headteacher's assessment as we breezed through the school. We said our goodnights and Cara reassured me that she'd sort out this ' shitty ' mess in the morning. I dreaded the thought of going in the foliowing day, but all appeared calm. In the staffroom during the morning break one or two revelations were put my way when Cara was called in to see the head. All the teachers were quietly full of praise for Cara's ability in class, but one teacher, Clare, warned me in a low voice that it looked like Cara ' Wanted to get into my knickers.' She explained in an even lower voice that Cara was a' Lezzie ' and that I should be wary if she ' Tries something on.' Cara had never shown any sign of ' Coming on ' to me and I dismissed the malicious revelation out of hand. Cara didn't surface from the head's office and I ended taking the class alone up to the lunch break.

When she finally surfaced it transpired that she'd received an ' official ' warning for her comments defending me the previous night. She didn't look too bothered, but I knew an ' official ' warning was quite a serious punishment. It was home time before I could finally speak to her...I ' cornered ' her in the ladies toilet. I really wanted to thank her for 'sticking up ' for me in the meeting, but her tear streaked face and red watery eyes cut me short....

The bubbly, outgoing, friendly, ever cheery Cara had been crying. She assured me that she'd got something in her eye, but her trembling shoulders clearly showed that wasn't true. I felt angry , guilty , but most of all I felt sorry for her...I offered to see her home...but she smiled, warning me that ' Surely you've been told about me ' and that ' People Would Talk ' if I was to leave school with me in her company. I explained that I'd had a warning about her from one of her colleagues but I assured her that I didn't regard being ' gay ' as some form of a disease.

Cara agreed to going for a drink with me and we drove away in her car and ended up in a tiny bar, sipping schnapps. We talked about a whole host of unimportant things. She truly was a truly lovely person, and wonderful company. She had made no move on me but I felt MYSELF being drawn inexorably to her. We stopped sipping the schnapps and drank it in true German style - Back in one gulp!. Schnapps is lovely, sweet and it sort of encourages you to drink lots of it. It is also VERY strong and soon we were joking, singing, laughing and suddenly we were kissing in our dark corner of the crowded little bar. She wasn't just kissing me, I was kissing her with ALL the enthusiasm I could muster. The bar was full but no one took any notice of us as our hands explored each other. Cara stopped suddenly...wanting to know if I was all right...I remember telling her that imploringly that I'd NEVER been more all right ! With a gorgeous smile she called over my shoulder to the barmaid to phone us a cab.

The next thing I really remember is climbing into a black cab. Once the cab had set off our bodies were locked together again. We kissed and fumbled all the way to Cara's little flat. Once inside we really ' got to it,' There was a gentle tenderness in the way she undressed me. I truly wished that I had got her skilled fingers but it didn't seem to matter. I was naked very quickly, Cara was down to her pants and stockings. I was treated to a cornucopia of pleasure as she kissed, lapped, sucked and nibbled every conceivable part of my body. Between my toes, under my arms, down my spine and then all around my back place, deep inside my pussy and way down my throat were just some of the places visited by that urgent tongue and soft, moist lips. Regrettably I made no protest when I was deterred when I tried to reciprocate. Cara just told me to lie back and let me ' do you properly.' I truly was 'done' that night. Looking back it was probably THE seminal moment in my life.

Back at school the following day, we could barely keep our hands off each other.. Each break that came along saw us disappearing into stock rooms, toilets and even into the empty sick bay. We kissed, sucked, licked and gobbled every conceivable body part on that highly charged, frenetic day. A wonderful tingling and delicious soreness invaded BOTH our trembling bodies. Work wwas just a distraction that day as we roughly stripped, lapped and probed each other's bodies at every conceivable opportunity. From that day to this I've never experienced such sexual intensity. Strangely though at home time she refused to meet me at the club....or anywhere else.. Back at school the next day everything had ' cooled.'

She remained a ' brick ' in the classroom and was the main reason why I got good assessment marks for the teaching practice....and passed with flying colours. Try as I may though I couldn't persuade her to ' Go out for a drink again,' - she always made excuses. Only on my last day did she relate why she'd ' cold shouldered ' me. I thought my heart would shatter when she told me that although she thought she could easily love me, she didn't want ME to waste my life on ' an old slapper.' She graphically laid out the fact that when I was thirty she'd be getting on toward sixty, and that my soul mate was out there somewhere waiting for me...I desperatly tried to convince her that I would love her at ANY age, but she refused to budge. I could NOT get it through to her that I could never regard her as a ' slapper,' but all my protestations fell on deaf ears.

I owed that beautiful woman so much....But she wouldn't be swayed and she just cast me adrift. Thinking about it now, it truly was an unselfish act of love....it was just the sort of thing Cara would have done. I left the school in floods of tears on that last day,.. vowing that I'd seek her out when I qualified as a teacher, and try again to persuade her to share her life with me.. To my shame I never did. Within two weeks I was back on the ' boyfriend ' treadmill again. Somehow though, spreading my legs, gasping appreciatively, sucking cock and swallowing cum no longer had the same appeal. The lpainful loss of my anal virginity to a self centrd muscly rugby player was the lasat straw!! Cara was no longer in my life, but....She was ALWAYS in my thoughts... and her influence most certainly remained with me. ..Men were slowly becoming an annoying sideshow in my life. The new me was starting to look elsewhere...The change had begun...