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Teaching her a lesson 156
The two didn't protest further. I answered a couple questions as she jotted down information for her report. Outside, Abbie and Taylor were being led into the back of the squad car. Shit. I'd hoped it wouldn't come to that, but I suppose it wasn't surprising that Taylor and Abbie would escalate a confrontation with an authority figure. Whatever you do, don't try taking her chapstick, I thought wryly. Nothing I could do for them now, though. I could hear their streams of obscenities from inside. Attempted egging usually wasn't an arrestable offense, but there was only so much flak one could throw at a police officer before they got bored of it and decided to ruin your evening. (Most police officers, anyway. I knew one who couldn't get enough of my abuse.) As the police officers drove away, I could see Taylor pounding on the window, screaming something in the direction of my house. Delivered in the trunk of her own car, removed in the back of a squad car. My goddess. The two were ta
Teaching her a lesson 157
I nodded. "No worries there. You and I will sit down together sometime soon, once finals are done, and come up with some protocols - starting with nothing at the school. Though I guess it won't really matter except for Abbie." "You say that like Abbie's still going to be a student next year," Isa replied. "You can't do the kinds of things she's admitted to doing and not get expelled, at the bare minimum. If Shipman really is some pathetic incel like you made him out to be-" "All I said was that he was awfully ready to mistrust the Sterns," I protested. "-then I'd be surprised if they didn't land in real trouble. They're two eighteen-year-old white girls, so, system being what it is, they might get off with warnings. Still..." She sat up, brushed some dust off of the thin sheen of sweat along the side of her breast. "Hard to say. Most likely scenario, I'd say, the two never go back to school, maybe finish their GEDs while serving time in house arrest." "Oh sure, because I'm the ass
Teaching her a lesson 158
"Frankenstein wasn't the monster," Tabitha interjected, speaking even as she raised her hand. As she often did. "Hemade the monster, then it turned evil all on its own." It was Friday, and I was back in my room in time for a bit of last-minute final exam preparation. It felt like a month since I'd stood in this room, not four days. Entering this morning had been surreal, and six hours later, it was barely less so. I'd been all sorts of nervous about what to expect. Teaching can be a bit of a fish bowl, oftentimes, yet to my immense relief, as near as I could tell, people had enough of their own drama to worry about without needing to worry about mine. I'd taken lunch in the teacher's cafeteria, where Amy and the rest of my department were at their usual table. Their curiosity was plain, and I answered it without being asked. My tale of being seduced and subsequently framed was met with fretful gasps, women mortified by what those no-good Sterns had put one of us through this time. M
Teaching her a lesson 159
"He wasn't wrong, you know," I told my pillow some ten hours later. A very naked Tabitha was straddling my own very naked self, her fingertips grazing sweetly across my back. It had begun as a massage, but true to form, she'd discerned that this gentle tickling was every bit as relaxing. "That's one reading of the text," she answered. "Admittedly, it's more in line with the apparent intent of Shelley, but that doesn't mean it's the only one." "I'm not talking about Shelley or Frankenstein or the damned creature and you know it." The sting in my voice was dulled by the filtration effect of my pillow. "I know. Which is all the more reason he's wrong. You only feel like he's right because your profession predisposes you to agree with lines of reasoning supported in the so-called Great Books of the western canon." "Really? Well thank you, Ms. Freud. Please, do go on, explain away the rest of my thoughts using your crack armchair psychology." I could tell she was bending down when her
Teaching her a lesson 160
With my employment crisis over, it was also time to address the insensitive dickheaded move on my friend Jay's part. A bit of distance from the den of debauchery that was my home helped remind me that it would be good if I didn't punch him in the face next time we met up. I called him up and gave him a firmly encouraged lunch invite, and we met at Gooses. The bar was sparsely packed, and he'd taken a table in the section to one side with all the taxidermy stuff in it. Those animals, frozen in time, always made me a little more aware of my mortality than I liked in my place of relaxation. Jay waved me over, and I took the seat opposite him. He didn't take long to get curious about what occasioned the call, and why only him, though I could tell from the sheepish look on his face that he had a solid guess. After all, I'd already asked him to take down the video, but other than that, I'd had no contact with any of my friends since I left them to go pick up the hottie jailbait in her pro
Teaching her a lesson 161
"Good afternoon. Mr. Stern?" We'd never met, and only once or twice spoken on the phone, but I could see a little bit of Taylor in this man's eyes. The man who opened the door looked me over for a moment. I wasn't dressed to make much of an impression, nothing more than a simple pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt. They were both of them tight; I figured it wouldn't hurt to try to look decent. Though standing here on the front steps of the father/stepfather of two eighteen-year-old students I'd been covertly sleeping with and had recently gotten thrown out of school, I didn't want to seem like I was trying to look too good. "Don't believe we've met." "I'm Mr. Canon. I'm here about Taylor and Abbie." I didn't bother with more of an introduction than that. With all that was going on, my last name ought to be plenty. My legs were ready to throw me out of the way of a punch, or whatever he threw my way. I hoped it wouldn't come to a fight, but after the predicament I'd helped land
Teaching her a lesson 162
She sat up, folded down her laptop and casually shoved it to the floor. A rolled up bath towel broke its fall. "They... what?" I gaped. "Do you really not know? Holy hell! Abbie, the detective who was looking into that whole stunt Principal Horen walked in on, he bought our story, but too well. He thinks you and Taylor threatened Tabitha and Cassie to make them participate, and that you were on some vendetta to end an innocent teacher's career." "Well... yeah. Like, that was the play, right?" "He's got you in his crosshairs. Both of you. When we spoke the other day, he made it sound like he was throwing the whole book at the two of you." I could tell this was news to her. I supposed that made sense. Not like the police needed to call you up and explain that you were under investigation. Thank goodness Abbie had given me the Serenex back before she did something else even more reckless with it. "Well, I guess we have to dose the detective then, huh." Something like that, for inst
Teaching her a lesson 163
Once upon a time, foreplay had been one of my favorite parts of sex. It built suspense, prolonged sex for that extra stretch. Plus, it was necessary. Most women I'd been with didn't get me hard just by looking at me, nor were they dripping down their thighs simply from the prospect of a few thrusts, Big Gun or no. Now, foreplay was something I only did if I felt like shoving a tit in my mouth, squeezing a girl's ass, sampling the taste of her pussy. When it came down to it, these girls all had me on a hair trigger, and that Abbie's pussy would be gushing wet by the time I shoved my dick in her was something I took for granted. These girls' pussies drooled for me like a bunch of fat kids at the fried oreo booth at the county fair. "Fuck, I love the way you stare at my tits while you fuck me," she murmured elatedly as I did just that. They were mesmerizing, bobbling around in the confines of her bra. I could take it off, but for now, it was amusing watching their struggle for freedom.
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