Erotic Musings,  Feminine Sexuality,  Sex and Society

Aren’t You a Teacher?

I certainly am. Teaching reading and writing to middle schoolers by day and coalescing as an erotic goddess by night.

It was risky business indeed. I loved my students, yet not so much the job of teaching. And as much as I loved getting to know them and seeing them grow, I wanted this piece of myself so much that it was a risk worth every cost.

I love every part of who I am and I am always teaching. Therefore, I will always be a teacher. Erotic pleasure is way more fun to teach, though. Especially the way I do it. I bare it all! And I’m not just talking nudity.

The Qu33n in her Classroom

Aren’t you a teacher?

A former student wrote this question underneath one of my social media posts. The tone of the question followed by a laughing face was loaded with judgment. I almost felt sorry for the kid, but such is life. I consistently reminded my students you got a long way to grow and it just isn’t safe for you to laugh and point at other folks. Especially folks as fine as I am, because I am fine and I am going to be fine no matter what kind of work I do. Nevermind the fact that I enjoy the work I do.

That young person was merely mimicking the adults and social structures around him. He doesn’t know any better and looking at the current state of adults, he may never know. He doesn’t understand that it’s him that is wrong in jeering at others from a keyboard. Keyboard bullies, they call them. I felt no shame. I felt proud and relieved for a list of reasons. Hiding my life that I love for one that I loathe was difficult.

A sudden shift

Once all the teachers in the school got word of my private indiscretion, the energy of almost everyone I came in contact with had changed. It was laughable. Also, it was a pretty awesome social experiment of sorts.

Nerdy teacher

The day I was asked to pack my things and leave my classroom forever, one of the assistant principals walked by me, didn’t speak, or even look my way as they usually did. Another teacher looked at me and darted their eyes away as though they were trying to avoid eye contact. Another teacher came to my class to ask me about a student, looking me up and down as though they were picturing me without all those “teacher clothes” on.

That last one was kinda nice and mostly cause she was a woman. Don’t judge me.

But I was more ashamed of their behavior. Not really. I was more entertained than anything. I mean, entertained by the way the entire thing unfolded.


On the day everything went down, I got dressed in a badass black slim-fitted dress with leather faux accents at the waist, black faux leather ankle boots, and a custom Ankara print full-length hooded jacket that I had purchased from the Sex Down South Conference.

I had done this purposely. I needed them to see me unashamed. I refused to let them believe for a second that I felt like I had done something wrong. I hadn’t. They already knew I was a Black woman proud of my heritage. Now they knew I was an erotic Black woman embracing her power and her influence.

Every place I walked in that school, curious eyes fell upon me and judgmental whispers swirl around me. Every place I walked in that school, I did so with my head held high.

Qu33n Victoria in the classroom


I felt like I was in the middle of a scandal, but in reality, I was just a person, a woman, on a spiritual journey working to balance my livelihood with this other deeper part of myself that I refuse to live without.

When the principal called me into their office, they asked if it was something I could take down. I promptly reminded them that once it’s on the internet, there is no taking it back. It’s what we taught our kids. However, this was no mistake. It wasn’t something I wanted to take back or take down.

I had worked too hard to build it. And everything I had built took a major hit due to an “investigation” and my refusal to resign. Hell, I didn’t have much to lose in that, but losing myself, now that would have been tragic.

Aren’t you a teacher? A question asked with such demeaning connotation. Teaching young folks is real wholesome and altruistic, but to be honest, the entire experience was making my pussy dry and we can’t have that.

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