Tag Archives: hot teachers

May 21, 2017 · 9:24 am

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: The Final Exam Edition

For millions of kids, teenagers, and underpaid teacher, this is a magical time of year. This is when the end of the school year is finally in sight. It’s no longer some distant dream or tempting thought, not unlike that of prisoners counting down the days of their sentence. Then, just when it feels like you’ll never escape, you see the light at the end of the tunnel and it’s getting so close.

It’s a wonderful, albeit agonizing feeling for some. I’ve made clear before that I despised high school. I was miserable, unhealthy, unattractive, and had the social skills of a lobotomized squirrel. I did get good grades, but that was hollow consolation at best. Had it not been for the hot teacher I had my sophomore year, I’d have done everything I could to just forget it.

I know, and sincerely hope, that my high school experience wasn’t typical. I hope it’s gotten better since I was in school. Even if school isn’t making kids too miserable right now, I’m sure some of them are still eager to get it over with and enjoy their summer. I can’t make time go faster, but I can make it feel less agonizing with a light application of crude, sexy humor.

That’s why I’m dedicating this week’s Sexy Sunday Thoughts to all those eager students and teachers who can’t start their summer vacation soon enough. To those desperately watching the clock every day, I say hang in there. It’s almost over. Let these sexy jokes help tide you over until then.

“Isn’t it somewhat hypocritical that we call our genitals junk, but spend an inordinate amount of time cleaning and caring for it?”

We call our genitals a lot of crazy things. Some are cute. Some are funny. Some make no goddamn sense. I’d use a lot of words to describe my penis and how I feel about it. Junk isn’t one of them.

I don’t know where this came from. I don’t know why it’s funny. Maybe it’s just the erotica/romance writer in me, but the way we treat our genitals is serious. If we treat them like junk, our weekend isn’t just ruined. Our entire species is in danger. Think about that next time you call your nether regions junk.

“When you think about it, bondage has unique appeal to those who lazy and unmotivated.”

I’m sure there are all sorts of complex, psychological underpinnings behind bondage and BDSM. I’ve even talked about a few of them. Sometimes, though, there doesn’t need to be some complex mental gymnastics to explain why some enjoy it. Sometimes, something as simple as laziness can fill in the blanks.

Think about it. If you’re on the receiving end of bondage, you don’t have to do anything. You can’t. You just have to stay tied up while your partner does all the work. For those who sucked at gym class, I can see how that would appeal to certain people.

“When you think about it, those who use elaborate costumes to get in the mood are just taking the scenic route to O-Town.”

I’m often astonished by the time and effort some people put into their cos-play costumes for comic book conventions. I’m just as astonished/aroused by the time and effort some people put into their kinky sex costumes. Just go to any gay pride parade and marvel at the intricacies of their attire.

Some would argue that such effort into such a basic act is a waste. I disagree. In the same way we sometimes take the scenic route to the same destination, it’s just one of the many ways to enjoy the process of sex and not just the outcome. As an aspiring erotica/romance writer, that sort of thing brings tears of joy to my eyes.

“There are certain beautiful women who look at hot gay guys and see it as a challenge.”

Back in the late 90s, Ricky Martin was the hottest piece of man meat on the planet. I would see grown women pick up a magazine with his image on the cover and go into a semi-orgasmic frenzy. It was a strange, but interesting time, at least in the sense when magazines were still relevant.

When he turned out to be gay, that disappointed a lot of women. Some of them, however, weren’t dissuaded. Some of them actually said out loud, in public, and in a sober state of mind that they could change that and not in the “Pray Away the Gay” sort of way either.

I don’t know if it’s ego or frustration, but those women kind of scared me. They thought they could mentally coerce a man into wanting to have sex with her. As a man, I know that if someone needs convincing to get horny around someone, then it’s just not meant to be.

“Some people are willing to accept alternative facts, but would probably draw the line at alternative orgasms.”

A lot of people roll their eyes at “alternative facts,” but will make every excuse to use them when it suits their agenda. I generally don’t argue with these people. They’re not going to be convinced otherwise. I just smile to myself and imagine what would happen if they used that same approach to their sex lives. I’m pretty sure their excuses would fail them.

“When someone spits on us, it’s disgusting. When we willingly lick the spit out of their mouths during a kiss, it’s romantic.”

This is another one of those odd quirks in our social behavior. When you hate someone, you spit on them to demonstrate your hatred. It’s widely accepted as one of the most hateful things you can do to a person or group.

Conversely, if you’re with someone you love, one way you express that love is to rub your lips and tongues together. You’re practically slurping up their spit. That’s love while the other is hate. Does anyone else see an inherent disconnect there?

“A woman who says she likes exotic accents is just saying politely that all the men from her hometown are assholes.”

I don’t deny it. Accents are sexy. Few things soak a woman’s panties than a foreign man with an exotic accent. Why else would so many women still want to have sex with Sean Connery?

I get it. Exotic things can be sexy. At the same time, however, I also think a woman who really loves exotic accents is saying something about the men from her hometown, albeit indirectly. If she has to look to another country to find a man to make her horny, then I think that says more about the men she’s known than it does her.

I hope that put a smile on your face or a awkward boner in your pants. Either way, you’re welcome. Again, I know it’s not going those last few days of school any less painful. That pain will pass though. If I can survive with my sanity somewhat intact, then anyone can.

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April 4, 2017 · 6:56 am

Love And Age Disparity: Why It Matters

A few years ago, Bill Maher, one of my favorite comedians, did a little routine on the titillating phenomenon of hot female teachers hook up with their male students. Being the brilliant mind he is, he summed it and the controversy surrounding it quite nicely.

“When an older male teacher sleeps with a younger female student, that is a crime. When an older female teacher sleeps with a younger male student, it’s a crime we didn’t get it on tape.”

It’s a funny, but fairly accurate observation. Whenever a story comes out about a hot female teacher sleeping with a male student, the knee-jerk reaction in many men, and even a few women, is pretty telling. We may act like we’re appalled in polite conversation, but in private, we’re thinking, “What a lucky kid! I wish I had teachers like that when I was a kid.”

We have an entirely different knee-jerk reaction when the genders are reversed. While it doesn’t make the news quite as often, it does happen. Most of the time, however, the knee-jerk reaction is entirely different. Most are appalled and disgusted, both in public and in private. We think and we say, “That man is a monster and a predator! How dare he sleep with one of his students? He should be hung from the highest tree!”

There’s no way around it. This is a double standard, something I’ve talked about many times before. It’s probably the most stark double standard there is between genders because it’s one of the few both sides agree on. A female teacher sleeping with a male student is kind of fun and titillating. A male teacher sleeping with a female student is a disgusting crime.

Now I’m not going to make the claim that this disparity is wrong. I’m not going to take the position of Men’s Rights Advocates and claim we should make the stigma between male and female teachers seducing students an equal phenomenon. It’s not. There are many reasons why it’s not and I’ll save those reasons for another blog post.

For this post, I want to focus more on the less obvious aspect of the teacher/student affair phenomenon. It’s one that actually manifests in many ways outside the classroom. It involves the age disparity between the couple.

A couple with a large age disparity is a bit less controversial, but it will still get people from both genders arguing about it. However, it’s still plenty titillating for both genders so I’ll try to focus on that component. Yes, there is a unique sexiness component to age disparity. Yes, I’m going to talk about it. If that makes you feel a bit uncomfortable, you might want to read my posts about sex robots instead.

Age disparity is one of those understated, but obvious issues that has always been part of our sexual culture. Men seeking younger women isn’t just an old, common tradition. It’s downright practical.

Even feminists and hippie types concede that for most of human history, it made sense for older men to seek younger women. That’s because for most of human history, women died at far greater rates due to complications during childbirth or pregnancy. A woman who survived two or three pregnancies was considered extremely lucky. A woman who lived long enough to seek the intimate company of younger men was downright rare.

This cold pragmatism has ensured that men seeking younger women is an inescapable component of our sexual culture. To this day, older men seeking younger women isn’t really taboo. When a rich man seeks the company of a beautiful young woman, it’s just shrugged off as one of those things rich people do because they can.

That’s why the idea of older women seeking younger men still generates this awkward reaction. It’s not so much that it’s taboo. It’s just new in the sense that it was an impractical practice until very recently.

Now, the concept of a “cougar” is a real phenomenon, so much so that MILF (mom I love to fuck) porn is big business. The idea of older women seducing young men may not disgust us, but it does get us thinking awkward thoughts.

Awkward or not, age disparity in romance is one of those things that occupies a nebulous region of our sexual culture. We understand why it happens. We’ve even conditioned ourselves to accept it in some instances, as the life of Anna Nichole Smith can attest. It’s just not something we think about and maybe that’s the problem.

Pragmatism aside, there are some legitimate reasons why younger women would seek the company of older men. Not all of those reasons have to do with wanting to inherit his money. Granted, that can be part of it, but that’s not always the case.

In an older man, a young woman can see someone who is experienced, established, and mature. As a man, I can’t help but concede on the maturity part. Having been a young man and having survived high school, I freely admit that young men can be immature little shits who don’t know the first thing about loving a woman. For that, on behalf of young men, I apologize.

Beyond the maturity aspect, an older man might actually know what the hell he’s doing when he gets a woman into his bed. Unlike a young man, who may know next to nothing about female anatomy, especially if he got his sex education in Texas, an older man has more experience in satisfying a woman. That experience goes a long way.

When the genders flip, some of those reasons still apply. It’s true. Men will seek the company of older women for that extra experience. True, an older woman is less likely to have the perky features of a younger woman, but perky body parts only go so far.

As a man, I can offer a bit more insight into this. I can’t say I prefer older women, but I can totally understand why men would be attracted to them. Younger women, especially those who are extra perky, tend to be more demanding. I’m not just talking about expensive shopping trips either. Youth in both genders tends to breed arrogance and arrogance can be a huge turn-off to a man, no matter how attractive a woman is.

In older women, men see someone who is a bit more measured and self-assured. They see someone who knows how to be independent. She doesn’t demand that they make her the center of their world. An older woman can take care of herself. She knows how to handle herself without whining for someone else to do it. A woman who can do that at any age will intrigue a man to some degree.

Between the sheets, the intrigue only grows. While younger women may make men horny, that doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll make them feel satisfied. Young women who lack in sexual experience may not know how a man likes to be touched, teased, and pleasured. I admit that male anatomy isn’t quite as complicated, but make no mistake, ladies. Experience does make a difference.

Whether you’re a man or a woman, age will play a factor in your sex life in some form or another. It may not always be direct, but it will still be a factor. At the end of the day, though, does it matter?

If an older man falls in love with a much younger woman or if an older woman falls in love with a much younger man, is their love any less genuine? Is the intimacy they enjoy any less meaningful? Granted, it isn’t always as titillating, but it can still have meaning.

In some respects, our culture and media create an artificial taboo of sorts. So many love songs, TV shows, and movies paint this ideal picture of love. It almost always involves two people who are relatively close in age. Add a little sex appeal and that’s basically the standard by which we measure sex and romance.

While that standard has its merits, it doesn’t work for everyone. Everyone’s tastes in sex and romance are unique. Some people are going to be attractive to different kinds of people for different reasons. In the end, so long as the feelings are genuine and not associated with Anna Nichole Smith, I think it’s still every bit as meaningful.

An Ode To Hot Teachers

Being a teenager sucks. Going to high school sucks. Going through puberty sucks. Unless you’re a star athlete or a cheerleader with the body of a young Carmen Electra, chances are your adolescence in general sucked.

Mine sure sucked. As I’ve said before, I was socially inept shut-in who did little to take care of himself. On top of that, I had a horrible acne problem that eventually required medication. I wasn’t just a pain to be around. I wasn’t much to look at either. That basically guaranteed that my teenage years were going to suck, despite having great parents, great siblings, and an environment that gave me every opportunity to be less miserable.

I get the impression that my experience is not typical. Teenagers are walking cocktails of hormones, emotions, and ignorance. Everyone, from the nerds to the jocks, finds a reason to be miserable at some point. The fact anyone survives it at all is nothing short of a miracle.

I highlight this misery because I want to establish a certain context here. Life as a teenager, going to high school and enduring the monstrous transformation that is puberty, is fraught with misery. Anything that makes it just a little bit easier is akin to giving a starving child a lifetime supply of chocolate cake.

That leads me to hot teachers. No, I’m not talking about a porno sub-genre. I’m not talking about the scandals involving teachers sleeping with their students that make the front page of Fox News’ website at least three times a year either. I’m just talking about that one teacher during that one year in your teenage life that actually made going to school less miserable.

Don’t deny it. You had a teacher like that. I’m not saying he or she was a supermodel or an Olympian, but they definitely got your attention and not with their teaching skills. Something about them just sparked that chaotic cocktail of hormones in your body in just the right ways. It made you think thoughts you didn’t quite understand, even after you discovered internet porn.

Hot teachers are a sliver of gold in the mountain of horse shit that is adolescence. In some ways, they’re a rite of passage. You only really feel like you’re growing up when your genitals start doing strange things around a teacher you find attractive. It can be awkward, as anyone who has ever had to hide a boner in the middle of algebra class can attest. Then again, awkwardness with teenagers is par for the course.

I believe that hot teachers are a gift to the world, if not an act of mercy to all those whose adolescence was more miserable than most. They remind miserable, emotional, melodramatic teenagers that there’s still beauty in the world. It’s not all just acne, homework, and standardized tests. For teenagers of every generation, their value cannot be overstated.

As a tribute to the hot teachers of the world, I’d like to share another personal story. Unlike some of my previous stories, though, this one doesn’t involve actual nudity. It does involve thoughts of nudity though. How can it not? It involves my teenage self.

It’s true though. I too once had a hot teacher, one I still remember fondly to this day. She was a rare beacon of light in the never-ending torment that was high school. She actually made me less miserable in high school. That’s something that therapy, anti-depressants, and Taco Tuesday can’t boast. She’s kind of a personal hero is what I’m saying.

Out of respect for her privacy, I won’t reveal her name. For the sake of this story, let’s just call her Ms. Diana. I had Ms. Diana for a history class in my sophomore year. At the time, I was 16. My acne problem was just starting to become a crisis. My hormones were just starting to go into overdrive as well. I remember having to hide at least one awkward boner a day. Ms. Diana didn’t help in that effort, but with her, I didn’t mind.

Ms. Diana was one of those young, energetic teachers who loved to talk fast and fill the room with energy. She wasn’t the kind of teacher who would just give presentations, pass out worksheets, and lay out lists of facts. She actually tried to keep people engaged. She tried to get people excited. She might as well have been the high school equivalent of a lion tamer.

She was also hot. I hope that goes without saying. I don’t just mean hot, in terms of personality. I mean Ms. Diana was hot in that she would’ve looked awesome in a bikini and not because she had a beauty regiment on par with Gwenth Paltrow, complete with jade egg for a healthy vagina.

No, Ms. Diana’s beauty was a natural beauty. She didn’t need makeup. She didn’t need designer clothes. She came into class wearing something she probably bought on sale and she still made it look sexy. That’s a special kind of beauty, even by teenage standards.

That beauty definitely resonated with my teenage self. I can’t remember a class where I paid more attention and felt more engaged. I can’t say that about a lot of the teachers or classes I’ve taken. I also can’t say those classes got me thinking and feeling things that I didn’t feel without an internet connection. It was a strange, but beautiful thing.

Now I never went out of my way to tell Ms. Diana that I found her very attractive. That’s not because I wanted to avoid a scandal that would end with one of us being interviewed by Wolf Blitzer though. I didn’t tell her because it wasn’t necessary. It wasn’t necessary because I wasn’t the only hormonal teenage boy in that class and some of those boys did not have filters between their brains and their mouths.

It was very much an open secret in the school. The boys thought Ms. Diana was hot. Nobody really argued about it. Nobody denied it either. I get the sense she knew that. I don’t think she would’ve agreed to teach teenagers if she didn’t to some extent. Maybe she knew she could keep her students’ attention by being hot. I’m not saying it’s a little coy, but you can’t argue with results.

This eventually culminated in an incident I still laugh about today. It happened one day after lunch. We were filing into class. I was there a few minutes early and so were a couple of my male classmates. Then, out of nowhere, this exchange happened:

Male Student: Hey, Ms. Diana! Is your dad a terrorist?

Ms. Diana: Um…no. Why do you ask?

Male Student: Because you’re the bomb!

I laughed. We all laughed. Even Ms. Diana laughed. This after September 11th, by the way. The fact that we laughed about it should hint at just how hot Ms. Diana was and how much me and my fellow male students appreciated her.

To this day, Ms. Diana holds a special place in my heart and my memory. At a time when so many memories from that era were bleak and forgettable, she was a shining star that came along at just the right time for an awkward teenage boy. I like to think that the feelings she inspired in me helped inspire my future aspirations as an erotica/romance writer.

I doubt that’s what Ms. Diana intended to teach me. I’m pretty sure she just wanted me to pass my tests and exams. Thankfully, I did. That other inspiration was just a bonus. Maybe one day when I become a famous erotica/romance writer, I’ll thank her. She deserves as such for helping me survive high school.

Until then, I remain forever grateful to Ms. Diana. On behalf of all those who had lurid thoughts about their teachers, I thank those wonderful teachers who look good naked who helped inspire both minds and genitals. You may not think it, but you helped us in ways that went beyond teaching us. You helped make our teenage years slightly less miserable. For that, you should be proud.

With that, I leave you with the ultimate ode to hot teachers, courtesy of Van Halen.

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Tagged as education, high school, hot for teacher, hot teachers, human psychology, love, romance, sex, sexual education, sexual health, sexy, sexy teachers, teachers, teen drama, teenagers

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Sexy Sunday Thoughts: The Final Exam Edition

Love And Age Disparity: Why It Matters

An Ode To Hot Teachers

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