Date: Thu, 20 Jan 2000 15:02:30 EST
From: RALFYRILEY@aol.com
Subject: 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...