FICTIONAL MONOLOGUE

Ok so this is like a weird short story written in first-person basis but is not to be misconstrued as a true story. I'm not even sure if it's written like a story; call it a fictional monologue:

When I was 16 I used to go for tuition in a local academy. The teacher was a very sweet, funny and sexy 30-something guy (I called his 'Sir'). I remember being very attracted to him. I used to have a sort of a crush on him. He was always so nice and warm with me. He would always be so patient with me and never got angry. He always looked at me with such kind nurturing eyes. He would sometimes give me a warm hug when he met me. He listened with great interest to everything I had to say. I loved going to study with him as he made me feel so special. He would sometimes get irritated or angry at the other students but never with me. He always told his others student what a good and intelligent student I was and answered all my
questions. I remember interrupting his explanations etc. a lot with questions or comments and he would never get irritated. I always felt that whenever he talked to me his tone of voice changed.

Later I started studying one-on-one tuition with him. I used to sit real close to him and try to concentrate on what he was teaching me but I would actually be just staring in his eyes and looking at how his lips moved and wished that he would kiss me. Sometimes I would feel his breath on my face when he was talking and felt my skin tremble with desire. He would sometimes touch my hands and legs and my heart went wild every time he touched me. I always felt a mutual attraction. I felt his eyes looked at me with a tentative lust and even more care. Days passed like this and I felt I was getting closer to him. He used to talk to me about my life and friends and even stayed longer than his time talking to me. I started to notice that he had started to place his hands on my arms and legs more than before. He never did it in an obvious way but as a matter of course while he was explaining something. I
started to feel an attraction coming from his side and getting thicker every passing day.

One day things seemed to hit a climax. He seemed particularly affectionate towards me and gave me a big long hug when I told him I had done well in a test we had been studying for. He looked straight in to my eyes and I felt like a strong force of attraction was in the air and it seemed like his eyes were asking for permission. There was silence while we stared at each other sitting extremely close just after a long hug. There was a palpable tension in the air-- and then suddenly I felt a deliberate break in it. Sir was a decent man who knew that he might have crossed some boundaries. He lightly kissed my cheeks and said, "Well done!" and I knew that he had realized his role as a teacher and me as his student. I wouldn't have minded but he must have felt it was wrong for him to do anything. Things changed from then and he seemed more formal and aloof with me. He didn't have that special tone of voice or that look in his eyes. I respected him for it but wanted him to passionately hold me and kiss me and tell me that he wanted me but he didn't. The school year ended and I stopped my tuition and life went on.

People talk about how intense their experiences of intimacy have been and they narrate graphic sexual acts but for me this subtle experience has been as intense as
any blow job. It had just as much force as anything else but felt somehow much more meaningful and deeper and people can tell me it was nothing but I felt it just as
strong as anything. I felt it. The only difference was that instead of everything being enacted out and in the open it was all said in silence and inaction. That didn't make it any less real or intense or maybe even made it an even more special experience.