Hotel O

by Clarissa Wild

  She turns around and starts to walk away from me, and I can’t shake that feeling where I just want to grab her and make her stay. Especially when I see that ass of hers swaying from side to side. Makes me want to spank her again.

  Fuck. Things are really getting complicated now.

  “You’d better show up tomorrow,” I say.

  She glances at me over her shoulder. “Or else?”

  I smirk, thinking of all the dirty things I could do to her.

  “You know exactly what will happen if you don’t.” The words roll off my tongue before I realize it, and I know I can’t take it back. It’s not just a harmless joke. It’s a promise.

  She just stares at me with this shocked look on her face, and then quickly turns to rush off.

  God, this is so fucked up … and I love it all the same.

  There’s just something about that girl, something intangible but so clearly visible … the need to feel wanted. I can taste it in the air—her fear of not being seen, not being heard. It’s as if she goes through life without really feeling at all. The ghost-like gaze in her eyes tells me there’s so much more to her than what she lets people see.

  And I can’t wait to discover.

  Should I?

  Fuck, no.

  But I wasn’t expecting her to show up in my class either.

  What’s been done can’t be changed. We had sex, and I told myself I could forget and move on, just like with all the other girls.

  Except she isn’t just any girl.

  She’s a student. My student.

  And because of her, I might just break the rules …

  Later that night

  The first thing I do when I get home is grab my computer and open Facebook.

  It’s nothing random. I’m looking at her.

  Yesterday was the same.

  I searched through all her pictures. Stalked her profile. Checked her posts.

  She’s a raunchy girl. Likes to drink and party all day long, even when she isn’t supposed to. She wears vibrant colors, just like her hair, like she wants to scream to the world and tell us she’s here. She shouts a lot and uses more emoji than words. She also likes to show off her piercing, which I think suits her well. I never find her reading a book or taking pictures in class. Neither do I find any posts about her parents or any family for that matter. Or I’m just not looking hard enough.

  The more I look at her profile, the more I feel like I’m getting to know her, even though the story is one-sided. Maybe this makes me a pervert, but I think of it differently. At least, I’m doing it in private … and at least, she doesn’t know.

  A few weeks back, she seemed to have been at a party because I see a video of her chugging a beer and licking ice cream from some guy’s belly. Guess she really does love the randomness.

  Another video is of her dancing, probably taped by her friend. She looks jacked, but her dancing is so sensual that I’m captivated.

  I can’t stop watching.

  Can’t stop being completely entranced by her dancing … and the carelessness she exudes.

  Just like me, she’s looking for an escape.

  I can’t help but feel connected.

  And completely aroused.

  Her moves are so seductive that I reach for my pants and start touching myself.

  My dick was already hard.

  It was hard back when I talked to her in class.

  It’s hard when I think of her while I shower.

  It’s hard when I look at her on Facebook.

  And it gets even harder when I realize this is so fucking wrong.

  Rubbing myself isn’t enough anymore, so I pull down my zipper and tug my dick out.

  Her hungry face is looking straight at the camera, and I can almost feel her eyes bore into me.

  My cock pulses with need at the sight of her curvy body in that tight red dress she’s wearing, and I want to cover her with my load. Dirty images of her flash through my mind.

  Her, bent over my desk, ass red from my hand, my cock deep inside her pussy.

  Her, sucking my cock until I come inside her mouth, then licking my juices off my cock under the shower.

  Her, spreading her legs for me to enjoy, then pounding her until she comes.

  Her, tied to my bed, her ass up and ready for the taking.

  I want her.

  I want her so badly … that I come from the thought alone.

  I moan out loud as my cum shoots all over my pants, the desk, my wall.

  Fuck.

  I needed that badly too.

  Damn, that girl has driven me crazy with need.

  I sigh. Look at this mess. Now, I’m gonna have to clean it up.

  But I can’t help but think that one day I’m going to make her clean it all up with just her tongue.

  And that day may come sooner than I thought.

  See, this is why I don’t return for seconds … because I can’t let them go.

  It’s not good for her or for me.

  Especially considering she’s my student.

  Fuck me.

  My phone suddenly rings, and I check the number.

  Fuck, just who I needed.

  I don’t pick up. Instead, I get up and grab a few tissues to clean myself and the mess I’ve made all over my desk. But as I throw away the tissues, the phone rings again, making me sigh.

  She really isn’t giving up, is she?

  Guess my further investigation of Hailey’s profile will have to wait.

  Chapter Six

  Hailey

  “Look,” Lesley says. “I can make dicks with my smoke.”

  She takes a drag of her cigarette and blows out the air in a bigger circle and then a smaller stream, which sort of looks like a dick … but not really.

  “Looks more like a droopy sock to me.”

  “Oh, fuck you. Can you do it better?”

  “No, and I’m not even trying,” I say. “All I can blow is fucking pussies.”

  “How?” she muses.

  I take a drag and blow out a ring. “See? Hole.”

  Lesley laughs. “That’s one big-ass pussy. That would fit like five dicks.”

  “Six now. It keeps growing bigger.”

  We both laugh out loud as we lean against the school building, watching the oncoming traffic from afar. I like standing out here, just watching people like it’s my job. Beats sitting in class listening to a lecture. I guess I’m more of a people watcher than an actual participant in ‘real-life.’ Whatever the fuck that is.

  “Oh, my …” Lesley suddenly says. “Look!”

  She points at a car in the parking lot, and I watch as Mr. Hard steps out of the passenger’s side. He walks to the driver’s side and waits until the window rolls down. It’s a woman, and she smiles coyly as he sticks his head through the window. I can’t see what they’re doing, but I know enough. It can’t be good.

  “Uh-oh … looks like Mr. Hard-ass is taken,” Lesley jests.

  I bite my tongue.

  Then I see him turn around and pace toward us.

  “Fuck, turn around.” I shove her aside. “That way.”

  “Whoa, what are you doing?”

  “I really don’t wanna talk with a professor right now. It’s already awkward enough in class,” I say.

  “Okay, okay.”

  We walk to the back of the building and wait. I peek around the corner right when he enters the building. I sigh to myself when he’s out of my sight. If she’s right … fuck. I hate to think about it, so I shut it out. I throw my cigarette on the ground and stomp it out.

  “I’m really not feeling class today,” I say.

  “What? You wanna skip? Again?”

  “Yeah, why not?” I shrug. “Not like we’ll miss anything. All the classes are recorded and can be watched online.”

  “Yeah, but he’ll probably give extra homework that you won’t get if you’re not there.”

  I smirk as I turn around while walking backward. “Isn’t th
at the point?”

  She frowns. “Okay … you do realize you need to pass a test soon?”

  “I know.” I shrug. “But not right now.”

  She still stands there, even though I’m walking farther away. “C’mon,” I yell.

  “No, I think I’ll go to class today,” she says.

  “Aww …” I make a pouty face.

  “You do what you want, okay?” she yells back. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Fine. Be a party pooper!”

  She puts her middle finger in the air, so I throw up two. We both smile and then I turn around and go the other way. I don’t know where I’m going, and I don’t care. I just want to get away.

  Run. Run. Run. That’s all I’ve ever done.

  Three years ago

  Every time I enter my house, it feels like I stepped into a funeral without knowing someone died.

  The closed curtains block the sunlight, with only the light of the lamp in the kitchen lighting the house. It smells of burning cigarettes and alcohol, mixed with a hint of spices.

  I find my mother in the kitchen, putting her blood, sweat, and tears into creating the perfect tomato soup.

  “Hi,” I say quickly, trying not to interrupt her, but she still looks my way.

  The big bruise on her face makes me stop in my tracks. “Hi, honey! Where’ve you been?”

  “Just hanging with friends,” I say, tucking my hair behind my ears because I don’t know what else to do when I see the black mark on her face.

  I make everything I do sound as casual as possible, so I don’t draw attention to the fact that I’d do pretty much anything, even if it’s boring as fuck, just to stay away from home.

  She smiles awkwardly, only to cover up her bruise with a bit of her hair.

  We’re both in denial.

  Suddenly, the front door slams open, inviting in the dark air of rage.

  “I’m gonna go to my room,” I say without looking back.

  “Margaret! I’m hungry!”

  His voice alone makes me speed walk.

  I only just manage to slam my door shut before he explodes.

  “Fuck! Why’d you make this crap? You know I always fucking want chicken soup!” I hear him yell.

  “I thought I’d make something different today … to surprise you,” my mom says with her soft voice.

  “I hate tomato soup!”

  I hear something metallic clatter on the floor, and I just know it’s the pan.

  “Look what you made me do!” His voice is louder than anything I’ve heard before.

  So loud, it makes me want to scream.

  “Clean it up and make something else before I throw you and your filthy rat outta this house!” he yells.

  Tears fill my eyes, but I don’t want them now.

  I feel so helpless.

  I wish I could go to my mom and fight for her, even when she refuses to fight back.

  I would hit him if I knew I had the strength to match his.

  In a haze, I grab my iPod and earplugs and put them in. They don’t drown out the noise until I turn on the music. “Teen Idle” by Marina and the Diamonds blares through.

  Loud, so it drowns out their fighting.

  Louder, so I don’t have to hear her cries.

  So loud, my ears almost feel like they’re going to burst, but I don’t care.

  This music is the only thing I have.

  It makes me feel alive in a world that died a slow, miserable death.

  Thomas

  Now

  One empty seat.

  Hers.

  Does she think she can play around with me?

  When I say she needs to be there, I mean it.

  I give my class an assignment to focus on so I can get to work in peace. I open my laptop and type in her name on Facebook. Luckily, I don’t need to friend her to be able to private message her.

  Thomas: Where are you?

  It takes her a while to answer, and I tap my fingers on the desk, annoyed at the fact that she defied my rules.

  Thomas: Answer me.

  Hailey: Nowhere.

  Thomas: Nowhere in class, that’s right.

  Hailey: Since when are you on Facebook?

  Thomas: Since I met you.

  I’m not afraid to admit I’ve been watching her. I know it’s against the rules, but I already broke them, so being careful now isn’t of much use. I just want her to be here. I don’t care what I have to do to make it happen.

  Hailey: Stalker, much?

  Thomas: Maybe if you got your ass back into class, I wouldn’t have to.

  Hailey: Sorry, but I’m really not feeling up to it right now.

  Thomas: Are you sick?

  Hailey: I’ve been sick all morning. I never left bed.

  Thomas: Really now? Because I could have swore I saw you standing near the school door this morning.

  It takes her a while to answer, so I guess she didn’t expect me to know she wasn’t actually sick. I see right through bullshit. Students try that all the time, but it isn’t going to work on me. Especially not when she tries it.

  Hailey: Fine. Yes, I was there. Now, I’m not. Just leave me alone.

  Thomas: No. You will come to school. Now.

  Hailey: Why do you care so much? Got a crush on me or something?

  Thomas: Don’t test my patience, Hailey.

  She’s pushing me to my limit, but I won’t let her go over it. If she won’t listen to me, I’ll teach her to listen … my way.

  Hailey: Isn’t this like ‘strictly forbidden’ or something?

  Thomas: Oh, we’ve already gone way past the forbidden line … You know, I’m curious. Tell me who you’re running from? Because it’s obviously not just me.

  Hailey: I’m not running from anyone, and certainly not you.

  Thomas: Good. Then you can come to class like you’re supposed to.

  It takes her a while to respond. She must be feeling pressured. Good. She should learn to listen sometimes. It’s in her best interest to go to class … and to be near me. I could teach her a few things no one else can.

  Hailey: I wouldn’t tell you, even if I were.

  Thomas: I know. And you don’t have to tell me, just as long as you get to class right now.

  Hailey: Or else?

  Thomas: Oh … you don’t even know what I’m capable of, but I think you get the picture. Now … Come. Here.

  She stops replying to my messages, so I guess she turned off her phone. Pity.

  If she doesn’t materialize within ten minutes, I don’t think I’ll be able to contain myself. I can’t believe she skipped class again.

  What is she thinking? Just because we fucked does not mean she can jeopardize her schoolwork. I won’t let her do that. That would look bad for me too, since I’m the one who fucked her.

  I close my laptop and pick up a pencil, watching the class work. I don’t interrupt them, as I have far more important things on my mind. Like how I’m going to make her pay for skipping class again. What would be a fitting punishment?

  Extra homework, so she can catch up?

  A lecture in front of the whole class so she won’t screw up again?

  Or should I just wait until we’re alone, then bend her over my desk and spank her ass until it’s red?

  I put my pencil in my mouth and start biting, as I need something to calm myself down before I get a boner. God, right in front of these students.

  It’s so wrong, but I can’t stop thinking about it either.

  When she’s in front of me, I can see straight through her clothes. Her naked body is still so vivid and in the forefront of my mind … it’s like I can’t even think about anything else anymore.

  All I want is to fuck her again.

  And then tell her how stupid she is for wasting her time in college like this.

  I wonder why she’s doing this. It can’t be just because of me … or maybe it is.

  But I don’t want to give myself that much credit. After a
ll, I was just a way for her to get rid of her virgin status.

  There must be more going on in her life that makes her so careless. I should’ve known. When a girl like her fucks a man like me, it isn’t just random. There’s always more to it. Just like there is to me.

  When class is over, I spit out my pencil and tap the table. “That’s it, guys! Time to pack up. See you Monday.”

  The students pack their things, get up, and leave, while I sit here and stare ahead. The clock ticks on and on, and nothing happens. I enjoy the silence, as long as it lasts.

  When the door creaks open, I’m all ears.

  Chapter Seven

  Hailey

  When I open the door and peek inside, the seats are completely empty. Fuck. I’m too late.

  “Come in.”

  My ears perk up at the sound of his voice, and I push the door open farther.

  Thomas spins his chair around and greets me with a warm, seductive smile. “Hailey. How nice of you to come.”

  He puts so much emphasis on that last word that it makes me quiver in place.

  I swallow away the nerves and walk inside.

  He picks up a pencil and starts to play with it, casually flipping it between two fingers, his eyes completely focused on me. I struggle not to blush from his blatant stare as I stand in front of his desk, waiting for him to tell me how I broke the rules.

  “So … you’re finally here,” he muses, as if he wants to rub it in.

  I cock my head and take a deep breath, but I don’t respond.

  “What made you come?”

  Again, that emphasis … it’s as if he wants me to think about other dirtier things. “You told me to come.”

  “Yes. Where you should’ve been for about an hour or two. Class is over now. You missed it.”

  “Guess so. Sorry.” I shrug.