by Xavier Neal
Her unexpected gagging wretches the low groan lingering in the back of my throat. I hold her in place with my hand as I rasp, “Fuck, I’m coming….”
There isn’t any attempt to pull away. My cock pulses against her eager tongue and her tight throat. Selfishly, she sucks and slurps every bit she can, only allowing a few drops to drip past her imprisoned lips onto my balls.
Seconds after my camera hand falls, she bows herself upward and shouts, “I’m coming!”
Erotically paralyzed, I simply watch as her beautiful body trembles against my leg. Her quaking is fierce. Her breath is hitching. Her hand is gripping my sensitive shaft with enough force to cause a bite of pain, but I don’t fucking care. Watching her get off, fuck, watching her get off on top of me like this, is worth any amount of momentary pain she can inflict. This is the moment that I would want on film. She’s a fucking masterpiece. She’s my fucking masterpiece….
Ainsley
“You’re totally like the best teacher ever,” Bethany gushes between giggles. “Seriously.”
Nate smirks and leans against the front of his desk. “Thank you, Miss Winston.”
“Question though,” she resumes talking as if there isn’t anything else for us to do for the day. “Is it organic, low fat popcorn?”
I try to stifle my laughter, which gets me a stern glance from my boyfriend.
It’s not my fault I know how much he hates girls who behave that way consistently about their food! It’s his! Any time we overhear a female order something similar he lets out an annoyed huff and I instantly snicker. My giggling usually receives me a subtle slap on the ass…and that typically paves the path for us to get a little frisky in public.
The thought of Nate’s hands on my ass flushes my cheeks. He catches a brief glimpse of the change in color and smiles to himself before answering Bethany. “No, Miss Winston, it is good old fashion, high calorie, high sodium, covered in butter popcorn. You do not have to enjoy it or the soda I brought today. The choice is completely yours. However, I cannot guarantee there will ever be another day where I break my rules and allow eating during my class period so you may want to take advantage of the situation.”
His necessity for rules in the classroom and outside of them fascinates as well as frustrates me. All the boundaries and perimeters he has set in place make sense to an extent, but his stubbornness of making exceptions is exhausting. While he’s managed to loosen up about minor things, like the brand of bacon he buys and adjusting his gym schedule for the nights I sleep over, he still refuses to bend for more important things like texting me during the school day. I don’t know what the big deal is. It’s just a text. All students spend the day texting, hell most of the staff does too, but he refuses to be like them. He wants to remain professional. Wants me to remain focused on learning during the day. It’s bizarre and slightly annoying especially when I wanna send him a naughty photo during lunch. Maybe he thinks if I get my phone confiscated during class and they discover it’s him I’m texting things could be bad for us. But let’s be honest. Who actually takes their students phones away any more? Besides, if they were to look through it would be a breach of privacy and lucky for me I go to school where that is a bigger crime than having slumber parties with your teacher.
“Why’d you bring it anyway?” Donovan, a classmate on the opposite side of the room asks.
“It’s Valentine’s Day,” he retorts casually. “I wanted to share a treat to go along with my love for film.” The girls in the class coo and he swiftly adds, “Or maybe I felt guilty about forcing you to sit through the movie Clueless without refreshments.”
There’s laughter around the room followed by a knock on the door.
“Can’t believe we’re watching that,” someone mumbles from behind me.
“Well, it was the voted choice for a romantic film based on a classic work of fiction. I would’ve actually preferred Emma with Gwyneth Paltrow, but this is your film class. I just work here.”
The lame joke gets a smile out of at least me.
Before Nate has the chance to say anything else, two students wheel in a cart covered in roses.
The dainty blonde with cupid wings who happens to be on the cheerleading squad, joyfully announces, “Here to deliver Valentine’s Day flowers!”
He nods and motions a hand for her to proceed.
Ah. Ollander’s biggest, most obnoxious, attempt to make it appear like the students really help raise funding for prom instead of just being given an outrageous budget donated generously by several parents. From our first day back in January until the Friday before Valentine’s Day you can swing by the school store and order a day full of love for the people of your choice. They have various packages, which include roses, balloons, candy, and an oversized bear. Seeing the halls flooded last year with so much ‘love’ sent Sloane into a bitchy frenzy that ended at my house with an ordered pizza, a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream, and a Saw movie marathon. Personally, before this year I never really cared one way or another about the lengths people went to for each other. In my life Valentine’s Day is just one of the busiest days for my mother, so spending it alone is normal. Not being showered with affection is expected. I’m just thankful when the jokes about her schedule being filled or asking if she gets a break since Cupid is on duty, are at a minimum. It seems as if I keep my head down a little extra on the holiday, it helps.
All of a sudden the bouncing blonde places three dozen roses on the edge of my desk.
Immediately I croak, “What are you doing?”
She gives me what appears to be a forced smile. “Those are for you.”
My eyes widen as my jaw hits the ground.
Bethany swiftly snatches the flimsy card attached and reads it out loud, “To my Aphrodite. Enjoy their beauty like I enjoy yours. Love, Josh.”
A massive knot instantly clogs my throat.
“Josh!” Squeaks Bethany. “Josh Buchanan! You’re dating Josh Buchanan!”
“No,” I bite harshly.
She seems taken back my offense. “So, you’re just spending Valentine’s Day together?”
Quickly, I shake my head, but I bite my tongue to stop from adding, I have dinner plans with my actual boyfriend. Knowing we can’t exactly go out to celebrate, Nate decided he would borrow a recipe or two from Wyatt and create us our own five-star meal at his apartment. It was only during his shopping for our plans that he was randomly hit with the ‘treat my students’ bug. Having to work on a group project for my English class kept me from tagging along, but he made a momentary pit stop by my house to drop off a few breakfast style groceries for me and steal a short kiss.
“That’s a bunch of flowers for someone you’re not even hooking up with….”
I dart my eyes to Nate’s face that seems to be struggling to appear stoic. His body seems eerily still. His breathing almost nonexistent. In what I know to be a slightly strained voice he agrees, “That is quite a lot of flowers, Miss Jacobson.”
“It’s the max,” the cheerleader states as her silent partner prepares to wheel the cart back out of the room. “We had to start capping how many people could receive in order to prevent anyone from feeling ‘unwanted’. It’s stupid, but whatever. Those are the rules. K, thanks! Bye!”
She saunters out of the room, but Nate’s attention doesn’t divert from me.
I try to silently plead my innocence. “Mr. Greene, do you mind if I share these with some of the female students who didn’t receive any?”
He clears his throat and completely stands. “Do whatever you would like with your flowers, Miss Jacobson. Just make it quick. As for the rest of you please grab your refreshments promptly. I will begin the movie.”
“You’re crazy for sharing,” Bethany mumbles before lifting her own dozen to her face.
Nate doesn’t offer me another glance. He simply turns his back and begins to put the movie on while we maneuver around the room to grab the treats he broug
ht.
I give away combinations of two and three roses, but somehow still manage to be stuck with basically a dozen. Knowing I can split it in half with Sloane, I do my best to silence my worrying mind. He has to know this doesn’t mean anything, that I’m just as surprised as he is. It’s not like I even had a clue this was going to happen. Josh occasionally texts me, usually asking about our English Lit reading, but he hasn’t actually asked me out since that pep rally almost six weeks ago. I had assumed he had taken the hint that I wasn’t interested….I was obviously wrong.
After an uncomfortable stretch of oscillating my attention between the classic 90s teen comedy and Nate who is doing an amazing job keeping whatever irritation he has unseen, the bell rings, allowing me the small window of time to do some damage assessment.
Everyone else scrambles to get out of the classroom yet I purposely take my time, pretending to be extra clumsy to allow us a moment alone.
However, the instant I approach his desk, prepared to tell him my plan to toss the flowers the second I get a chance, Josh’s voice says from the doorway, “Hey Ainsley! Come on. I’m gonna walk you to class.”
The grunt of disapproval from Nate is louder than I expect.
“You say something?” Josh questions him.
Unsure of what else to do other than play along to keep suspicions down, I quickly intervene, “That’s really sweet, Josh. Thanks.”
I give Nate one final apologetic look and sigh, “Have a good day, Mr. Greene.”
His hands fold tightly together on his desk as he looks down to keep from making eye contact. “You have a good one as well, Miss Jacobson.”
Outside the classroom, Josh makes an attempt to slide his arm around my shoulder, but I create space between us before he successfully can. “Where are the other roses I sent?”
“Gave them away,” I confess. “I thought it would be nice to share the wealth.”
“Like the Robin Hood of Roses?”
The joke gets a small smile and shake of the head. At least he got the reference and name of the character correct.
“You look really pretty today,” he says, shoving his hands into his letterman jacket pocket. “I like the lace.”
My pale pink lace three quarter sleeve dress with a thin black belt at my waist line was my attempt at giving Nate something to fantasize about during the day. He knows my distaste for panties with my dresses, especially ones with a loose or flowy bottom. He’s also admitted his own pleasure from seeing me in something slightly short and being the only one who knows there’s nothing underneath. I thought it would be something we could secretly smile about all day together and then when I arrived at his apartment, he would just lift it up to fuck me over the edge of the couch. Now I’m wondering if this dress will even see the inside of his place with the way he was fuming.
“Thanks.” I force a wide grin on my face.
“I um…I didn’t ask you out tonight because I figured you already had plans, probably some chick flick night with Sloane,” he says, nervously scratching the back of his neck. “But I wanted you to know I was thinking about you…and uh…That in my head you’re my Valentine. No other girl.”
His sentimental words and gestures further gut me with guilt. Even if I wasn’t dating Nate, I have no interest in Josh, but it’s sweet he’s making such a huge effort. I hope someday very soon, he turns these efforts towards a girl who can return the affection.
When we arrive outside of my Creative Writing class, I politely announce, “I appreciate the thought today. It’s very sweet.”
“Sweet enough to go out with me this weekend?”
The warning bell rings saving me from having to continue the conversation. With a wink, I encourage, “Get to class, Josh.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah,” he mumbles playfully. “I’ll text you later, Ainsley.”
Thankful to be away from him as well as having to stare at Nate’s solemn expression, I flop myself down at a desk in the back row and let out a sigh of annoyance that it’s only second period. The fact today is feeling even longer than it normally would is the last thing I need.
At lunch, Sloane and I opt to eat in the courtyard because of the unusually warm winter weather.
Sitting on the edge of one of the garden bricks, she shakes her head, and brings her knees to her chest. “Stacy’s going to bitch slap him when she finds out he bought Marcy chocolates.”
I cross my dangling ankles and offer her a piece from the box delivered to me third period. “You ever get the feeling all this delivery stuff just creates more drama than romance?”
She snatches a piece and shrugs. “Who cares? It gives us something entertaining to watch while we shove candy in our faces.”
The corner of my mouth attempts to tug upward. It’s easy for her to be impartial. She’s not the one who’s received everything they’ve delivered today so far, along with an absolutely ridiculous amount of questions and accusations each time. I’m pretty sure there are now rumors going around that Josh and I are seeing each other in secret, so that it doesn’t piss off Kacey Trapman, his ex who is dating some college guy now. Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, I went to offer Sloane most of my flowers only to find out she already had her own. Apparently, she got a dozen from a ‘secret admirer’. Rather than admit knowing they’re from Scott, she has been entertaining the idea they’re from A.J. who hasn’t spoken more than two words to her since she ditched me at the work the other week to enjoy a little one on one with him.
All of a sudden, Scott blocks our view of Stacy beginning to screech.
“Rude!” Sloane snips.
“Bite?” He offers, ignoring her tantrum.
She holds her mouth open for the slice of pepperoni pizza at the same time I ask, “Where the hell did you get pizza from?”
“Josh’s mom ordered enough for the football team.”
“It’s not football season anymore,” I counter suspiciously.
“Doesn’t matter to her. Mrs. B thinks we’re a team year ‘round.” Sloane reaches for her own slice from his plate when he pulls it back. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Eating your lunch.”
He slows down his chewing.
“Now you can either let me eat all the pepperonis off of every slice or cave and just give me one of my own.”
Reluctantly, he lowers his plate for her to grab a piece. There are seven slices. I’m sure he’ll be fine.
She blows him a kiss of gratitude and he grins like their lips had actually touched. “Now move. I wanna watch Stacy slap Marcus across the face.”
Scott slides out of the way and onto the brick on the other side of Sloane.
Just as the drama escalates my phone begins to vibrate in my bag.
I immediately reach for it hoping it’s Nate not Josh.
Teach: Staff parking lot. Back corner. Now.
Quickly, I text back to let him know I’m on my way.
“Want me to grab you a slice?” Scott offers as I hop down from where I was sitting. “Sure Josh wouldn’t mind if I bring you back one.”
“No thanks. I actually have to go call work. Something about my shift tonight.”
Sloane pouts. “But I thought we were doing the whole pizza, ice cream, and horror movie marathon thing again.”
Reaching for my bag, I slip it over my shoulder, and pull my hair to the opposite of my face. “Your desire to watch people murdered on the holiday about love is worrisome.”
“Fucking creepy,” Scott mumbles between bites.
“Fuck both of you.”
I giggle and begin to move towards the parking lots. “I’ll be back in a few.”
Having left the box of chocolates for Sloane to finish and having released the balloon on ‘accident’ as soon as we stepped into the courtyard, I make my way towards the back of the athletics building, hiding the roses shoved in my bag as best as possible. I can’t trash them before I get ho
me without brutal backlash, but I don’t want Nate to gripe about them more than I’m sure he’s about to.
By the time I reach his BMW exactly where he said it is, I’m regretting my choice of wedge sneaker shoes. Had I known I was going to be hiking to the other side of the planet I would’ve opted for flats.
After glancing around to make sure no one sees me, I step behind his vehicle to see him sitting on the curb, impatiently waiting.
“Hey,” I cautiously greet.
Nate rises to his feet but keeps his distance. “Hey.”