This story has a bit of truth to it, but it did not quite happen the way I tell it below, but I can always wish, right? None of the names are true and this is totally fiction. Thanks Sunny for your suggestions!
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Retirement wasn't all it was cracked up to be! I really began to miss the day-to-day events of going to the office and inter-acting with my colleagues. A friend needed some help at the school where she taught English. The money wasn't great, but it was better than sitting on my ass at home. I began teaching a group of students that were preparing to enter universities in the states. They need to pass an English exam and needed to improve their language skills before enrolling. Additionally, wives of some of the foreign executives would enroll so it was an interesting mix of students.
After the first couple of weeks of teaching a class of teens more interested in learning about American teen-age culture, I was surprised when the director brought a lady to sit in on my class. Asrar was a beautiful Arab MILF, the wife of a diplomat. After sitting in for a day she signed up for my class.
Asrar, I learned later that her name meant secret in Arabic, always dressed very stylish. Always, in western style clothes, always the top of the rack from the best ladies stores in town. She only wore the hajib scarf over her hair and wrapped it stylishly around her neck. Only her beautiful face was exposed to the outside world. When she joined my class it was winter and she normally wore a loose sweater and wool slacks, expensive suede slip-on flats with expensive jewelry around her neck and wrists.
As a student she was the best; always on time, homework ready, and attentive in class. I learned her husband was assigned to the consul and traveled a lot for his position. She had five children the oldest, a son was a freshman in college... already the typical American.
As time went on, other opportunities popped up and I decided to take another position. I announced that I was leaving to the class, giving the students a little time to get use to the idea of a new teacher and for me to finish the term. On my last day, as the other students left the room, I noticed Asrar, was lagging back, putting her books away and fumbling with her bag. I walked out of the room and came back thinking the room would be empty. Shutting the door behind me so I could make a phone call, I realized I was not alone.
Asrar was still sitting at her desk, but she had removed the hajib, a most unusual move for an Arab lady of her age. Her hair was flowing free over her shoulders.
"How did she keep all that hair wrapped up," I thought not knowing what to say. Her hair was thick and black with a slight curl as it cascaded over her shoulder. I sat the phone down and walked to the back of the room. Asrar stood, she appeared taller than normal, but then I noticed she was wearing western pumps and a flowing skirt. As she stepped from the desk her skirt swished as she moved towards me with her hands outstretched, I took them as we embraced. The Arab mix of spices and perfume spread as I held her closer and tighter, not knowing what was going to happen next.
"I am going to miss you as my professor! It was the highlight of my day."
My god, I never saw this coming! I could feel her breast pressing against my chest while she looked up at me with her wide almond eyes. She looked down and in a low voice, said "I know this is wrong, I have exposed myself to you. But I had to let you know that I considered you to be in my family and I could wear clothes like I would around my family.
"Asrar, I don't know what to say..."
She pushed her face towards mine and with her lips open she pressed her lips to mine. It was only a few kisses when I felt her tongue probing, pushing deep into my mouth, and finally we were kissing like two teen-agers behind the football stadium. I didn't know what was next but at this point I really didn't care! Her arms wrapped around me and mine around her. I felt her hands on me like I would have never imagined and I let my right hand drop to her perfectly shaped bottom and felt her firm ass thru the silk of her skirt.
I think westerners often fantasize what is under the full burka that is worn by some Muslim women but, today I was wondering what was under her stylish skirt, because my hands instinctively noticed the line of a garter belt and French cut panties under the light material.
She stepped back and looked at me then down at the toe of her shoes, "I would hope you could join me for lunch, would you follow me over to the Hilton?" Of course but, Asrar, you don't have to do this." Turning her head to the side, "But if I want to?" I smiled back at her. She put her hair back into a bun, rewrapped the hajib and we left the room for the last time. No one knew we had just kissed and felt each other like teenagers.
The school was in a somewhat exclusive high end business district, so I followed closely behind her black Mercedes and slid into a parking place across the row from her car. Walking into the hotel as friends, no one would have thought we had just been making out in my classroom.
