(R/18+) Staycations & Sex: Another Student-Lecturer Affair (Part 1)

I love the idea of staycations, but sadly I don’t do them often enough.

The whole idea of checking into a luxurious hotel or serviced apartment and shutting yourself off from the rest of the world for the weekend just, brings warmth to my cold little heart.

Truth is I could do it anytime I wanted, but I force myself to wait only until I have a companion who would join me; someone I actually care about. Given that I rarely have that sort of connection with anyone, my staycation plans are few and far in between.

The first time I had a staycation to remember was with a student of mine, or rather a petite, lower-end-of-5-foot tall girl I used to teach back in (her) college days. We rarely spoke to each other while she was still in college, what with her having a boyfriend in the same class, and also perhaps because I was the lecturer she hated for being an uptight asshole that she “wanted to knock the fuck out” (her words).

That’s the price I pay for insisting on a certain level of professionalism in my classes.

No, we weren’t close by any measure back during those days. After she transferred overseas though, that’s when things started. I slipped into her DMs, we flirted online quite a bit, but nothing came of it until perhaps a year after she graduated and started working in a different city.

We’d become very close at that point, and one week she was complaining about how tough and stressful her job was. I jokingly told her that she should fly into KL and stay with me for a weekend; we’d check into a hotel or something and never leave, surviving purely on food deliveries, watching movies, and just spending time together.

Totally random of me, just throwing ideas out there, but the surprising thing was that she said YES.


The plan was straightforward: she’d fly into KL, and for two nights she would be completely off the grid. No social media posts, no nothing; not even informing her boyfriend who, due to him being a bum anyway, was none the wiser.

Touching down at KLIA, she took the train straight to KL Sentral, and then the shuttle to our serviced apartment where I would be waiting to welcome her at the lobby. I would’ve checked in earlier to prepare the apartment, shutting the curtains and loading the fridge up with vodka for me, and wine for her. Once the weekend was over, she would fly back out to her city as if none of this ever happened.

In less than 30 seconds from the point the door shut close behind us, I had her pinned up against a wall in the hallway. I wasn’t going to waste any time, and quite frankly I’d been waiting months for that first kiss. I couldn’t stop tasting her lips while my hands were eager to explore every inch of her. I groped her, I pinned her arms against the wall above her head, and then as quickly as I started, I pulled myself away.

“C’mon, let’s order some lunch” I said as she stood there with her back against the wall, still a little dazed, very much disheveled, wearing a “Did you just..?!..” smirk on her face, staring at me as I walked calmly to the couch.

At that point, I was already hard and dripping in my jeans, and I could only imagine how wet she was at the time since I hadn’t unraveled her yet. But as much as I wanted to tear her apart, I also wanted to savour the moment that we had together.

Having the main course isn’t as enjoyable unless it comes with the right starter and dessert, don’t you think?

It was a one-bedroom serviced apartment. We’d spend most of our time that weekend at the couch, the bedroom, and in the shower in particular. I think some stuff took place in the kitchen by the sink, though I have to admit that my memory is a little fuzzy about that part. Can’t blame me; we didn’t see the sun for the entire weekend and most of the time we had our eyes half closed, enjoying whatever sensations we were causing each other.

I didn’t want to tell her then, but this was the first time I’d ever experienced that level of intimacy with anyone. Up until that point, my experiences were only as long as they needed to be, like when I fucked another student (this girl’s classmate, btw) and wrote about it in (R/18+) The First Student I Slept With (Part 1) and (R/18+) The First Student I Slept With (Part 2). That was a ‘have your fun and get out’ type of situation, as were all my other rendezvouses that involved my car or public locations (might write about it later). As fun as those situations may be, you can’t really savour it; you gotta do what you gotta do then get the fuck out so you don’t expose yourself to unnecessary risk.

This was the first time I was locked in a place with a companion for an extended period of time. I loved that level of intimacy, and if I’m being brutally honest, it is that level of intimacy that I am seeking even today.

But I digress.

There were many tender moments that weekend, moments that I find very difficult to forget even though this girl and I have not spoken to each other for years. Chief among them was when we were packing up towards the end, and she was in the bedroom. While I was in the living room, I overheard her singing “Everytime” by Britney Spears, and that shit made me melt so hard. I was sitting just outside of the door where she couldn’t see me, just so I could savour the sound of her voice.

Still can’t listen to that song today without thinking of her.

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Though, when we were not curled up together on the couch watching movies, laughing and generally being manja, we were busy playing. We barely had any rest between rounds, especially since this girl was bringing out the animal in me and because I discovered that she was highly orgasmic. Making her cum was pretty easy, and it filled me with an odd sense of contentment seeing her half unconscious after each orgasm.

There was one moment when I was tired of being in bed all day, so I took us to the couch outside with my laptop. We were both enjoying porn while I jacked myself off (loudly, since I hate holding back). In her tight little black t-shirt and no panties, she curled up next to me with her arm around mine, played with my hair, even kissed me on occasion when I needed to taste that tongue of hers.

We were both laughing so hard because she had never seen proper, high-quality malay porn before until I showed her. Her reactions were priceless; not just her sweet laugh and smile as we joked with each other, but also her lustful reaction when I decided to shoot my load all over that black t-shirt she was wearing.

Having emptied myself all over her, I was quick to return the favour. I pulled her by her legs so she was sitting dead center on that couch with me kneeling on the floor in front of her. I can still remember what it felt to have my fingers inside of her, exploring every inch and backing them up with my tongue eagerly working her clit as she grabbed the cushions around her aggressively.

This time, I wasn’t the one whose orgasm was echoing all over the living room.

Falling asleep with her was… at the risk of sounding cheesy… ‘beautiful’. She would later jokingly complain to me about how loudly I snored, but there was a strange sort of peace I felt in my when sleeping in the arms of someone I cared about, or waking up the next morning and feeling the shared warmth as you embrace each other.

That first night though, I woke up at around 3 am or something ragingly horny. I started by taking matters into my own hands, but when I was ready to pull the trigger I kneeled next to her and ripped the covers off of her body. The room was dark but I could see enough of her face; she laid there with her eyes wide open staring up at me as I jacked off in front of her.

Her reaction was unique: she wasn’t scared, but she was fully alert. I could tell she knew what was about to happen (she’s not stupid. I should know, I used to mark her exam papers) but she was waiting to see whether or not I’d do it.

Sleepily slurring, loudly grunting, “I’m cumming”, my eyes rolled to the back of my head as my cock started emptying itself. I was firing off indiscriminately, not caring at all what I was hitting; though I’d discover later that I hit her chest and neck, mostly.

When I was done, I collapsed back onto the bed on my own side and went back to sleep. I remember her laying still for a few minutes before she got up to clean herself off in the toilet, and come back to bed to curl up with me again.

That’s how you make your partner feel dirty (in a good way): do your deed and just pull away like you don’t give a shit, even if you do. But use your best judgement when pulling this move; there’s a right time and place for everything.

The next morning, it came up in conversation. Her reaction?

“Well, I got in bed with YOU; of course something like this would happen”, she said as a smirk creeped up on her face.

Lana del Rey was the soundtrack for most of the weekend, and til today I still feel that her songs are the only ones that can accurately capture the vibe we felt for the two days we were together.

We were manja. We were dirty. We even gave each other some alone time, as well. But for those 48 hours we never saw the sun, nor did we leave that apartment. Like when we decided to bathe, though I was soaking in the tub chillin with my vodka while she was under the rain shower lost in her thoughts. Both of us enjoying the shared silence together.

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Seeing her silhouette through the foggy shower glass was like witnessing moving art, and after awhile of admiring her from the other side, I had to join her. Showering together, making out, leaving marks all over her body with my teeth (though only in places she could hide them). All while not a single word was spoken.

I kissed her all the way down to her thighs, and while there I looked up at her and said “Stand.”

She nodded, as I started going to work on that beautiful pussy of hers. Eating her out, fingering her, I was working with a purpose.

I enjoyed every tremor, every involuntary spasm that shot down her thighs.

The sound of her moans mixed with the white noise from the falling water.

She was close to cumming, and she rested her hands on top of my shoulders so she wouldn’t fall over.

“Tahan. Tahan!” I instructed her so she’d stay standing like I told her to, slipping into using my mother tongue as one sometimes does during moments of ecstasy.

Her moans started pitching upwards, her muscles spasmed around my fingers, this was it.

My other hand was around her body, grabbing her ass; partially because she has a nice ass, but also to help me keep her stable as the orgasm took over her body.

She moaned upwards into the air as she reached her climax, and then she slowly started to fall to her knees. I guided her body slowly down as she collapsed into my arms, her arms hanging loosely over my shoulders, her head resting against mine; mumbling incoherently as I shushed her and told her to rest.

We ended up sitting like that under the shower for about half an hour and it was at this very moment that it started to dawn upon me, just how much trouble I was in. The feeling in my chest was unmistakeable.

I was starting to fall in love with this girl.


The End

Thoughts? Questions? Hate mail?
Reach out to me on Twitter and Instagram at @oliver_sure (highly NSFW).

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