What was the most unexpected way you’ve ever got laid?


Asking for a recommendation letter for college.

Yeah, I didn’t expect it … at all. Senior year of high school was winding to an end, so I sought out for some recommendation letters, preferably from the teachers whom I had the best … relationships with. My first choice was my English professor, and it was a breeze. He gave me a great, 2 page filled letter. From there, feeling pretty confident, I went to my arts teacher. I figured since I had such a strong “academic” recommendation, it would be wise to widen my positive aspects… so I headed to the arts department.

I arrived at lunch time, creaked open the door to the familiar classroom, and poked my head inside:

“Mrs. Elliot, do you have a minute?” The class room was dead empty. Yes, she was married.

“Roger? Hey! Of course,” she chirped back. “What brings you here?”

I explained to her what I was doing, and she smiled. She told me she would write me a recommendation letter, but first I had to do something for her.


Get your mind out of the gutter. She wanted me to allow her to use one of my sketches in the state fair. I obliged. She smiled widely and sat down and began to pen the letter in front of me. As she wrote, I awkwardly stood, looking around the classroom like I’ve never seen it before.

“Roger does this sound right?” She said.

I stood about 10 feet from her, and waited for her to say what she wrote.


“Well you’re going to have to come here and read it.”

Thinking nothing of it, I approached her desk and leaned down to read the paper.

“Roger is one of my best students, he is always-” my eyes were interrupted by the shuffling of her breasts with her hands. She apologized, I continued reading. It was a pretty good letter; about as good as it gets from an arts teacher.

I thanked her dearly and told her it was perfect. I went to grab the letter, but she intercepted my hand. “No, I don’t think it’s quite ready… at least not for a boy, man, like you.”

I repeated it was fine, really. But she insisted that it wasn’t. Lunch was coming to an end, and she started to (pretend) to think, placing her hand on her chin.

“I know!” She exclaimed. “Come over tonight, and we’ll finish it. I’ll even cook you dinner.”

I was an 18-year old, typical high school kid, oblivious to what’s going on. Nowhere in my mind did I think that my teacher wanted anything more out of this than I did… So I agreed. After all, she was a pretty cool teacher.

I arrived to her house at 8p.m., and she opened the door with a huge smile on her face: “Roger!” She said happily. I was shocked. Not at her happiness, but at the skin-tight, black dress that exposed more of her cleavage than you would imagine a teacher would show a student. She grabbed my hand and guided me inside. I would be a liar if I didn’t say I was thinking about sex at this point.

The dinner was set, chicken and vegetables, and even wine. When I told her I was “”only 18” she laughed and said she “wouldn’t tell anyone” with a giggle, handing me a glass.

Then I noticed there was a third plate on the table.

I didn’t mention it. I was hesitating to sit down, but she ushered me in and we began to eat. We talked about art, high school, and she was flirty as hell, twirling her air, laughing at everything I say, and even grabbing my hand. But about 5 minutes in, I hear a groan from the other room. A pause and someone stepped around the corner. A girl, in sweatpants and a white t-shirt, messy brown hair and no shoes or socks on. She looked exactly my age; in fact I think I’ve even see her in school before.

As she came to the table, I realized I had seen her in school! IN FACT, I actually knew this girl from other classes!

IN FACT; I’ve even had a crush on this girl since sophomore year!

“Mooooommmm!” She croaked.

Mom?!?!?! What the hell?!?!

Then she saw me. She shrieked, covered her breasts (obviously no bra on) with her arms and ran back upstairs.

I had no idea what just happened. Even weirder, the “mom” just casually went back to eating with me, and flirting again. I was genuinely freaked out, but snapped back to the situation at end and was simply not going to pass up the chance I was presented with.

Sleeping with an arts teacher who actually is a total cougar? Imagine the street cred I would get!

The night warmed up and we finished our meals. We both knew where things were going, and she led me up to the bedroom. My heart was beating faster than it ever had as I stepped inside her room.

Then a voice from downstairs cried out:


“Oh my god,” my teacher said. I laughed, and she told me to just “ignore her.” I was fine with that, and she took the lead, leading her hands to my belt and slowly unbuckling my pants, giggling like a school girl. She pulled down my trousers, and tugged them around my ankles. This was it. She smiled, and pushed me on the bed.

Holy shit, this is like the pornos! I remember thinking. She climbed on top, just me; her and my underwear separated us from glory.

Then the voice rang out again:

“MOOOOOOOOMMM!”, ringing through the house like a scream.

“OH. MY. GOD!” My teacher said, sitting on top of me. She got up. nono no no no! I remember thinking.

“Just give me a minute sweety.” My teacher said as I lay on the bed, outstretched. She went down stairs, and I imagined the possibilities of things. I heard arguing down stairs, and actually got extremely aroused — imagine if my “crush” knew I was on the verge of banging her mother. I couldn’t hold my excitement.

The arguing got louder, and then I heard a door yelled. I assumed it was just the girl angrily slamming her room door, and prepared for the arrival of my teacher again. Let’s just say I thought it would be a good idea to do the “dirty” work for her, and slipped off my underwear, lying in the bed fully nude with a giant grin of my face.

I heard footsteps from around the corner. I was ready, and I was just straight up hard as a rock. The footsteps went quiet. She must be teasing me. I thought. Two can play.

I got out of the bed, walked to the door, and jumped around the corner.

To this day I have no idea why I yelled out what I yelled when I whipped around the door, fully nude and hard, but I yelled at the top of my lungs:


But it wasn’t the mom. It was the daughter.

I stood there fully nude, with my arms fully outstretched side to side, with my … erhm … “chicken wing” fully erect. In front of my crush.

It was an awkward moment of silence. She didn’t move, and I didn’t either. My heart stopped, and my arms fell to my side.

“Uh…” I said.

The girl just stood there, but then her eyes fell to my everlasting erect penis.

“You were seriously going to have sex with my mom?” She said in disbelief.

“Uh…” I tried to think of something to say. I said “yeah”.

She looked at me, and then back at them, you know, then back at me.

“Well,” she said, biting her lip. “Why not me?”

My eyes widened. My heart began beating again, but faster than it had when I was being led up the steps. I truly didn’t believe what the actual f*ck I just heard. I just stood there naked, in the hallway.

“What?” I said.

She smiled, just like her mother. I was still shocked, embarrassed at being naked in disbelief. She grabbed my hand, and led me back to bed. She dropped her sweatpants, but wore no underwear. Closing the door behind her, she walked towards me and pulled her shirt over her head.

We. Got. It. On.

It was the most unbelievable of event of my entire life, and still is to this date. I dated her for 6 months after that, and we had the casual “intercourse”, but nothing has been as magical as that one night.

But the weirdest thing to come from all of it came about a week after the whole thing, when my art teacher approached me and handed me a piece of paper:

“My most sincere recommendation for Roger …” The title read.

My mouth was opened. She looked me in the eyes with her big, brown eyes and told me that her daughter really believed I “earned” it. I was silent. Finally, I asked her what I’ve been thinking about ever since the “happening”:

“Where did you go after leaving downstairs that night?” I said.

She smiled, resembling her daughters’, which genuinely both creeped me out and aroused me in the middle of the high school hallway.

“My daughter planned it. I just acted as the middle man – or woman -” she said. “She’s had a crush on you, and has been chewing my ear off about you for months. My god, it was so annoying … I just needed to get her with you so I wouldn’t have to hear any more of it! So when you came to me for a recommendation letter, I realized it would be a perfect oppourtiny to have you come over and really get to know each other.”

I was in disbelief. I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t trying to be cute or funny or this or that; I just said the first thing that came to my mind:

“Well that’s pretty creative, even for an arts teacher.”

She paused, and bit her lip.

“And according to my daughter, I’m a little jealous that it wasn’t me in that bed that night.” She said, and walked past me as I stood there thinking about what the actual hell just happened.


Roger Rodolf





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