Part 1: An Attempt at Reconciliation

All through high school I was enamoured with my french teacher. I went to great lengths to get his attention, wearing see-through blouses to class and offering to help grade papers. My sole aspiration, and the only reason I continued taking french, was to tempt this man. I longed for him to notice me and I would take great pleasure if I caught his gaze lingering over my body. My infatuation was painfully obvious. He knew of my crush and would flirt shamelessly with me, placing his hand on the small of my back as I left the room, or allowing it to rest atop my thigh as he leaned across the desk. This man made me whimper with frustration. I was young, and although I masturbated constantly, I was still a virgin. My feelings towards him were primal and not fully understood by the unexperienced adolescent I was at the time. I knew that I wanted him, but had no idea what I would do if my wish were granted. The year after I graduated from high school, he retired. I was set to go away to college in the fall and, as the time grew closer, I became more and more panicked at the thought of never seeing him again. I ended up calling him and we agreed to meet for lunch at a local restaurant. Over lunch we discussed my future goals and his plans for retirement. Everything was going so well, that I eagerly accepted his suggestion of going for a walk together after lunch. We drove to a secluded path that ran along a small stream and proceeded to take up the conversation where we had left off as we strolled down the path enjoying each others company and basking in the warmth of the sun. At some point along the path, I stopped to tie my shoelace. Looking up, I noticed that he had made his way down to the edge of the stream and was beckoning me to join him. As I got closer, he held out his hand to help me down the small embankment. Everything that happened after that moment was a blur. Instead of letting go of my hand, he purposefully pulled me in towards him, dropping his hands to my waist and closing the space between us. It was then that I felt his mouth on mine. His tongue immediately became entwined with my own, his breathing intensifying as he explored the dark recesses of my mouth. My head began to spin, and I could feel my knees start to give way. I remember grabbing onto him for support, my hands in his hair, my body pressing against his. I could feel my skin beginning to flush as my body responded to his touch and the intoxicating scent of his excitement. After a few minutes, he took a step backwards to look at me, raising his hand to remove a stray strand of hair from my face. He leaned in again to kiss me and this time I reflexively stepped back. In the time that we had stopped our embrace, I had collected my thoughts enough to realize that I was not prepared for what I only assumed was to happen next....