Mrs Ws Diary First Entry

Diary Entry -- April 21st

I feel so... embarrassed

I'm a professional, adjunct instructor at the junior college, advisor to the math club, And I'm happy in my marriage. I love my husband, I do. We've been together for years, and I feel like we're in a good place, you know? But this overwhelming curiosity has taken hold of me. I don't even know where to start. There's something about this that's making my chest tighten, and it's not the first time I've thought about it, but this time it feels different. I've been thinking a lot about one of my students, who I will call R. in case anyone ever sees this. And I feel almost ashamed to admit it, but I can't stop myself from wondering--What is it about him?

I mean, of course, I've noticed him before. It's hard not to. He's tall, he's black, and he just ... takes up space. Do I dare say what I mean? It's not that he's physically a giant. Yet--there's a certain way he carries himself, like he doesn't even need to try. He walks into a room, and everything else fades a little bit. His confidence, his presence, his charisma with the girls in class--it all draws you in. But here's the part that makes me so uncomfortable--I guess I can dare to say it--I can't stop wondering about his endowment.

But what brought me to wonder this? Nothing unusual to begin with. I did notice at the start of the year that he carries himself quite maturely for someone so young. Before class I saw R. joking with the other students, mostly with the girls, but that's not too strange. Over time I saw he could build an instant rapport with almost any girl, and many would stop by who weren't even students of mine. Once class started, he would smile at me as I called the room to attention, then become serious, an intense look on his face as he worked. Occasionally he'd stay late for a question and I found him friendly but quiet. Still, something about his bearing made me take notice, and on a few occasions I caught his eyes looking at me with that intensity.

It was not until we approached the end of the quarter that my thoughts were triggered. Last week R. stayed after class to ask if he could use my lab to study for finals during lunch. R. had an even more intense look on his face than normal when he asked. I detected something urgent in his request behind his soft smile, but I appreciated his manners and his work ethic, so I said sure, he just had to clear out before the bell. For the next two weeks I saw him bent over the large worktable in my room with a series of different study partners. He was a first-year but I was surprised to see his partners were mostly older and all of them female. R. would settle in with his partner and spread out their papers, his large hand clutching a pencil, working through problems with the girl of the moment, an amused grin occasionally breaking the intense look on his face. Once they were set up, I would leave for the teachers lounge, grateful for the break from my classroom.

Then last Thursday I returned to the math lab early, forgetting about R's study session. As I approached, I could see R and his partner through the narrow windowpane that bordered the classroom door. From this angle, I could see into the room while they could not see my approach. And what I saw was that R's hand was no longer clutching a pencil or moving over his stack of worksheets. Instead, it was under the table and visibly moving high along the thigh of his partner, a slender brunette named Brenda who I knew was set to graduate.

R's arm was moving to and fro under the table, and he was leaning back slightly in his seat with Brenda's hand resting squarely on his stomach above his waistband. As his hand moved beneath the table, I could see Brenda's eyes flutter and blink in time with his arm's movements, her body imperceptibly writhing in her seat. Then Brenda moaned slightly, moving her hand over R's stomach, sliding up and down along his shirt. Her hand seemed tentative, but R's touch was more than confident as I could see the look on Brenda's face.

I knew that look well--I had let my husband record me pleasing myself for him and I knew that Brenda's climax was approaching. Then R shifted in his seat causing Brenda's hand to fall away, and I saw what could not have been possible -- a pulsating ridge of cloth moving above his waist and below his sternum as if something breathing was trapped beneath R's shirt. The unexpected sight surprised me so much that I dropped my bag, and my water bottle clanked audibly against the floor outside the classroom.

With a jerk I saw Brenda's hand pull away from R's stomach while R slowly lowered his hand from between Brenda's thighs. She was gasping, her eyes wide open and her face flushed as they realized I was coming back. I could tell the poor girl was on the edge, then I saw R. suddenly push his hand back between her legs forcefully. Whatever he did caused her eyes to roll back, making her explode in orgasm. While I knelt as if to gather my belongings, I saw R glance towards the window as he gathered their papers while Brenda furtively pulled herself together.

I tried to act nonchalant as I picked up my bag, rising from the floor next to the windowpane, then opening the door as if I had seen nothing. Then I saw R stand up and pull his shirt forward, then slide his hand under his shirt as if to tuck something into his pants, his hand pulling the cloth against his thigh, where again I saw movement---this time as if something breathing were trapped in his pants. It took a moment for my brain to fully process what I was seeing--if what I saw was real, his size was so outsized, so impossible that---no, it was not possible, I had to have imagined it. I was so confused as they muttered their thanks, brushing past me as they left. The scent of their sex lingered as I pulled my thoughts together, knees trembling.

Looking back I remember the physical sensation of shock--not disgust, not pleasure, just a stunned pause--as I took in the visual disparity between R's body and his older but smaller partner. Her skin was so fair compared to his, his touch so confident, hers so hesitant, her eyes so nervous. But wouldn't I have been nervous too? The hint of what I'd seen didn't seem like it belonged in the realm of normal human anatomy. It looked like a spectacle, almost a caricature of male sexual dominance. If what I saw was real, R was an embodiment of the most extreme version of male virility being experienced by a girl half my age. I was taken aback by how unrelatable it felt--how foreign it seemed to my own experiences with sex and intimacy.

I feel like I should laugh it off, but it's so genuine. I've never felt so curious in my life. Why does it matter to me? It's almost like his presence demands this question from me. I mean, I know it sounds silly, but when I see him, I can't help but think: Does his size match up to everything else about him? I feel so ridiculous even writing that. Why am I fixated on something so personal? But there it is, this thought I can't seem to shake.

I don't even know why I feel this way. It's not like I've never noticed men before, or even been attracted to them, but R? Seeing R just makes me feel different than I've felt any other time I've looked at a man. His smile is warm and direct, and his eyes seem to look right into me. It's as if he sees me as a woman and not just another teacher. And his bearing just emits power And now, I'm wondering if that power extends into other areas. It's like my curiosity about him is getting the best of me, and I'm embarrassed to admit that, honestly. But I have to write it down because I just need to make sense of it all.

And I have to confess it confuses me. He's black. He's young. Definitely younger than me. But he's got this quiet confidence about him. A physicality, a magnetic pull and an impossible anatomy if what I saw was real. And it's like he knows the effect he has on people, and now that I've caught myself looking at him and the knows I am feeling this strange pull.

But here's another thing that's so weird about it: now I've caught myself comparing myself to the girls R dates. I have seen him a few times with his large dark fingers resting on the thigh or shoulder of a girl in class before and since that day with Brenda, and heard many whispers between them. So I can't help but wonder: what would it be like to be with someone like him? Not just in a physical sense, but in a way that makes me feel small, taken by the power of his body. I know that sounds odd, but when I'm around him, I feel that shift, that energy. It's not just about the way he looks, it's about how comfortable he is with himself. And it makes me curious--in that same embarrassing way.

I can't explain why, but I sometimes have this overwhelming need to feel taken by someone. To feel physically overpowered. I can't even put it into words without feeling so self-conscious. But it's like I'm drawn to his masculinity in a way I can't control. It's like there's this primal need to be physically taken--because I have heard things about R I wonder if I could handle being taken by someone like him, could I even physically accommodate him, could I handle his kind of strength

And sometimes I hate it, honestly. But every time I see R, I can't help but wonder--what about him? What's beneath all of that size? Does his physicality match everything else about him? Is it... the act itself....as powerful as I have imagined?

I know, it's crazy, isn't it? Here I am, married--and yet my mind keeps drifting toward this thought about R. The more I think about it, the more embarrassed I get. But I have to write it down because it's eating me up inside. There's a part of me that's fascinated by the sheer power he exudes, and I can't stop wondering what it would be like to be overpowered by someone like him. I don't know why I feel this way, or why I'm so curious. But I do.

It's even more embarrassing because I shouldn't be having these thoughts. Especially not about someone I mentor. I can't even look him in the eye without feeling like my face is burning. I tell myself it's just idle fascination, but it's more than that. It's like I'm looking for something full of power, his presence, that's entirely outside of me. I feel like I'm craving something I don't fully understand, and it makes me feel... exposed.

I don't know if I should keep this to myself or somehow confront it. I mean, is this normal? Why do I feel this need to know more, to understand what it would be like to be overpowered in a way I've never been with any man before? It's almost like an insatiable curiosity, mixed with this sense of want that I'm not sure I can even voice without feeling utterly mortified. The way R carries himself makes me wonder how his body affects everything around him--God, I feel like I'm blushing just writing this down. It's all so embarrassing, but also, there's a part of me that's so... intrigued. There's this part of me that feels like maybe it's not just about his size or physicality at all, but about his power. The way he looks at girls, and at me, and what I now recognize as the transfixed facial expressions of his girlfriends. And, maybe, if I'm really honest with myself, a part of me wants to surrender to that power, to that size, just to see what it feels like.

I need to stop obsessing over this. But I can't.

End of Entry