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Teaching her a lesson 113
Wednesday morning, Cassie and I showered up together. She really did like getting wet with me, and I didn't have the heart to deny her. We made a note to get moving earlier on mornings she slept over so we didn't have to risk anyone seeing her sneaking out of my house at dawn. It would be so nice after graduation with the reduced pressure to hide everything. For now, though, it was off to work.It was a stormy day, but that was fine by me. Rainy days were always more subdued, the students calmer. I'd even managed to line up reading days for all six sections for once, which meant I was only standing in front of the class and teaching for a brief window at the beginning and end of class. The rest was spent catching up on long overdue grading and administrative paperwork.Amy Cook-Burfield and I had our lunch meeting. Elsewhere, Isa and Candy were sharing a meal, daydreaming about submitting and watching that submission respectively. Amy wasn't as thrilling as that company promised to be
Teaching her a lesson 114
Sean couldn't make it, but Alice, Jacqui, Jay, Roddy and I were all there, all punctual as usual. Gooses was a decent little bar. Since none of us lived in White Oaks, we'd chosen it only because it was near the highway and Jay had thought the lack of apostrophe in the signage would drive my English teacher sentimentality insane. (It did, but I seldom gave him the satisfaction of admitting as much.) The food was good, the drinks reasonably priced, the staff friendly, and the company top notch. I'd bought the first round; when Jacqui grew suspicious of the impoverished teacher's generosity, I shrugged and said I'd been having a good week. I was spared further interrogation after Roddy piped in with the story of his week, which seemed to be going tragically the opposite direction - but the telling was up to his usual comedic standard. Then, suddenly, in walked a woman who was the visual equivalent of a needle pulling off a record. Roddy trailed off mid-sentence in his vivid description
Teaching her a lesson 115
I kept my eyes right on Abbie's. The man barely existed. "Come with me," I commanded. "I don't think you were listening, pal. I said, the lady and I were talking. Why don't you take a seat." He probably sat up taller, or cracked his knuckles, or some other macho posturing bullshit. I wouldn't know. I wasn't looking. "You heard the man." But her eyes signaled her mirth. "I heard him. He said you were talking. Were. Now, we're talking. So let's... talk." The man said something, but Abbie spoke right over him. "You have something you want to say to me, Mister?" "Matter of fact, I do." I took a step closer and tilted her chin up so that our eyelines met. "You're incredible, and I want to buy you a drink, and take you home with me," I stated plainly. My desire to simply get her out of this bar and out of sight of my friends was a part of it, but really, the ambiance was working. Standing there with dozens of people watching or half-watching us, it was easy to forget she wasn't simply
Teaching her a lesson 116
"I'm still a teacher, Abbie..." I warned. I think I even meant it when I said it, though the preposterousness of the warning sunk in the moment the sound hit air. "And I'm still a set of tits and ass for your ogling pleasure. So shut up and fuck your hot little nympho bar babe already, yeah? "You got it, Lucy." "Lucy?" she grunted. "My friend thought you looked like a Lucy." She slammed down onto my cock, all the way to the hilt. Her hips gyrated slowly as her pussy squeezed my cock like she was milking the thing. "Yeah, but I feel like a Tighty." Then I was coming inside her, my beautiful stranger, so I didn't have the wherewithal to laugh at the pun until after I recovered. Each of my friends - and Sylvia - texted me before the night was out in a mix of incredulity, curiosity, and in Jacqui's case, mostly jocular condemnation. I didn't respond. What was there to say? I didn't want to lie to my friends, and I certainly couldn't tell the truth. I'd come up with something later.
Teaching her a lesson 117
Megan casually inquired if I meant to marry her daughter. I assured her that had been Cassie's fit of delusion, and that I had never suggested any such thing. In text, it was hard to tell if she was relieved, or disappointed.Isa texted again, this time apologizing for her outburst and swore she would wear anything I commanded. I told her to show our conversation to her girlfriend. Candy texted me a minute later, promising she'd get the tattoo after school tomorrow and asking if she could join us Saturday night.I slept alone that night. But I didn't feel alone.At last, Friday.For all the fuss made -- rightly so -- over punishing young women for letting their bra straps or midriffs show, the notion that teachers couldn't perform their jobs in a pair of jeans didn't receive enough press. The same went for most professions with similar dress codes, really, but standing all day in front of people half of whose fashion sense was clearly guided by the principle of whatever lay at the top
Teaching her a lesson 118
Abbie was dressed in jeans with some fashionable holes torn around the knee and thigh with a cute green top that showed only a modicum of cleavage. Modest, considering how much she had hidden away in there. Taylor was in denim shorts and a hoodie, blowing a big pink bubble from the gum in her mouth as she strode in. Cassie wore a brown dress with yellow flowers on it, but hers was nothing like that sexy thing Abbie had worn to Gooses Wednesday. It looked like she was on her way to church, or a piano recital. "My mom made me put this on," she explained, evidently noticing my scrutiny. "She thought I should try to look nice for you. I told her it didn't matter because you usually liked me better in my underwear or naked anyway, but she said she didn't raise me to look like a bum." Her eyes flitted to her two schoolmates. "I think she thought they looked kinda bleh, like they're not two of the hottest chicks in school just because they aren't wearing tight skimpy outfits. Sheesh. Anyway
Teaching her a lesson 119
Once I recovered from my fit of laughter -- by which time only Abbie was still glaring -- I gave them a serious answer. "Sorry, sorry. You try keeping a PG sense of humor five days a week -- it builds up. All right, so if you win... Hmm. I'll give you each one night next week. You call the shots. We do whatever you want.""Butt sex!" squealed a delighted Cassie. Taylor eyed her like she was some sort of alien invader in human form.Abbie squeezed my hand excitedly. "Deal!" She accepted Taylor's hand to pull her back to her feet. "Now go to your bedroom and give us a minute to strategize.""Strategize? Come on now, that's cheating!""We're the ones sucking your cock, OK? Come on. Cut as a little slack.""Oh, have it your way. Do I blindfold myself, or wait for you?""Pff, like we're gonna trust you to do it, ya cheater."I listened at my bedroom door, but couldn't hear a thing aside from footsteps and whispers. When the former grew louder, I hurried to my bed and sat down like I'd been
Teaching her a lesson 120
"Nice work," said Abbie soon after girl two let me slip out from between her adoring lips with a wet and seemingly resigned plop. There had been enough of a delay that time that it could have been her, though. She wasn't ruled out. "Think you can fool me that easily?" Then someone kissed me, hard. Those lips, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt. Even if I hadn't, the gum Taylor left behind in my mouth sealed it for me as surely as her whispered words in my ear. "I think that I'll take Sunday, so I own your ass for a whole fuckin' day. I'ma be here at midnight, and ride you till your nuts turn back into pumpkins, mother fucker." My consideration of throwing the contest evaporated. I wasn't about to let Taylor have that kind of satisfaction. I'd win this game, then have her over Sunday to lord it over her. Midnight to midnight. And maybe call in sick Monday to finish our lesson. It was girl number three's turn, then. No wiping off spit this time. She began much more timidly, though. A
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