The bell sounded, and everyone packed their belongings away and began to leave. I hovered around Mr. Newell's desk as another three female students had got there first. They were asking ridiculous questions, and I knew they were doing it just to try to get his attention. I could see Brandy Elliott side-eying me as if to tell me to get lost.
Finally, they left, and it was just him and me.
"Miss Appleton. How can I help you?" He tilted his head to the side.
In class, the teachers called us by our first names, so I felt I was being reprimanded once again with the formal use of my last name.
"I'm looking for some extra tutoring this term to improve my grades for college. I wondered if you knew anyone. I appreciate you just got here and so you might not have any information for me right now, but I would be grateful if you could look into it for me. Mainly I'd like to focus some more on film and literature."
"Right. Anything in particular? The romantic poets like Wordsworth and Keats for example?"
I looked up at him for the first proper time all lesson. His face bore no hint of a smile or the friendliness with which he'd addressed the class. Rather, he looked irritated.
"I'd like to look at developing screenplays in particular and anything about character development. I'm hoping to write a novel someday." It was the first time I'd voiced that out loud to anyone, but this man's acerbic manner had got to me. What had I done to warrant it? I'd only day dreamed a little in class.
He rubbed his forehead.
"I'm sorry." He said. "It's just I get that a lot. Female students asking for extra tutoring when they want me to quote romantic love poems to them really and have no interest in learning at all. Take a seat, Candy; it would appear we got off on the wrong foot, let's start again. Now, what's this about writing your own novel? What are you interested in writing about?"
Though I was annoyed that he thought I wanted him to read love poems to me, I considered the girls who had stood there before me and the fact I’d daydreamed about him and decided to move on. I pulled up a chair at the side of his desk, and he sat back down himself.
"I have a notebook at home, and I write in it often. Lots of character observations and things I find witty or interesting. I'd like to write a novel about someone who's trapped in life and wants to spread their wings. I don't have any more details at the moment. It's just been a dream. I never told anyone before. I always say I want to be an English teacher."
"So, you don't?" He asked.
I shrugged. "I think I'd be a good teacher, but my mom is an interior designer and is set on me working for her."
His face got the look everyone’s got when they realized who my mom was.
"You're Irena Appleton's daughter?"
I sighed. "Yes."
"Ah," he studied my face. "And you don't share the same ambition I take it?"
"I appreciate what my mom does, and her talent is out of this world. I'm good at art. There's no reason why I shouldn't go into the business..."
"Except your heart is in English?"
"You got it, and if writing a novel is too ambitious—and I'm not stupid I know my chances of getting a traditional deal are like identifying an individual raindrop in a puddle—then being a teacher of English would be my next dream, so I can try to get other people to see how beautiful the language is."
"Candy, you know that as a teacher, mainly you just try to get through class without students breaking out in a fight. If they open the textbook in a lesson, you think you've done well."
He looked downbeat.
"Surely it's not that bad?"
He shook his head. "It was at my last school. I'm hoping here it's going to be a little different and seeing as I already have at least one student who loves English, I guess I'm already ahead. I'll tutor you myself. That way, if no one else in the entire school likes English, at least I'll have one student I can bore with literature. Do Mondays and Thursdays straight after school fit in with your timetable?
I thought of my week. All I'd need to do was quit the senior prom committee which would be a bonus as it was another pain in my ass. As Larissa kept reminding me, I needed to get a date for it, and I didn't want one. My mom was also all prom, prom, prom as if I would be attending a royal ball not an end of school year party. ‘Oh, it's so important. I loved mine with your father’, was all I ever heard these days, well, that and my eighteenth.
"Those days would be fine. Thank you so much, Mr. Newell, and I'm sorry again, for the daydreaming. I'm a really good student usually, I promise."
He smiled, revealing a perfect set of white teeth. His lips had just the correct amount of plumpness and framed his teeth beautifully when he smiled.
I realized I was in danger of daydreaming again, so I jumped up.
"Thanks again, Mr. Newell. I'll see you after school Thursday."
And with that, I dashed from the classroom.
Larissa was hanging around outside. She usually rushed straight off to see Jeff, so she was trying to hit me up for gossip.
"So, what was that all about, Candy? Are you trying to get detention so that you can have him all to yourself?"
I gave her a nudge. "I was asking him about extra tutoring. I already told you I needed it before your new man crush arrived in class."
"You mean you don't find him attractive? Are you completely blind?"
"He's okay, I guess." I giggled.
She looked me up and down. "You can quit that innocent look. I've known you since kindergarten. You are so hot for teacher."
"Stop it. Be quiet." I hissed, looking back at the door. "He'll hear you."
"I'll be quiet if you admit the truth." She wiggled her eyebrows at me.
"He is freaking gorgeous," I sighed. "Just like the men in my books. But he's a teacher, and I do want help with my grades so I asked if he could suggest anyone."
"And did he?"
I nodded. “He's going to tutor me Monday's and Thursday's after school.”
"You lucky bitch," Larissa wrapped her arm around me. "After school let's go collect Jeff and head to Bailey’s for ice cream. I think we both need to cool down after that lesson."
Chapter 2
Parker
This is what I swore would never happen to me. After all the trouble at the private girls’ school I'd just left, the last thing I needed was close involvement with a student. Never again did I want accusations about my professional conduct. I'd left Queens with my reputation intact, but my engagement was broken. In some ways, it had done me a favor. I had loved Eliza. I'd known her since we were teenagers, but it wasn't enough. The drama at Elvington High had shown us both facets of each other we hadn't noticed before as we went through the routine of life – mainly that neither of us was in love with the other.
Time had passed. I'd taken six months off to spend some time deciding on what I wanted to do in the future. My father had tried to drag me back into the family business, he ran a multi-million dollar publishing company, but as always, as the 'black sheep' of the family, I'd resisted. Now here I was at Lincoln High, a mixed-sex school where I was hoping for a drama-free life.
I had deliberately decided to work with twelfth graders. They were seventeen and eighteen and so I had figured there would be fewer schoolgirl crushes, the hormones having calmed down by now. Plus as a mixed-sex school, they had plenty of the opposite sex their own age to annoy and hook up with. So when after my class today I'd had nothing but female students hanging around asking dumb ass questions, I'd been at the end of my rope. When Candy had asked about private tutoring, I'd lost it for a moment, believing she was just like the rest of them, wanting time to crush on me, paid for by her no doubt super rich parents.
But she was different - and that was so much worse.
The minute I'd noticed the long-haired brunette with the blow job mouth sitting in my class, I had felt like a lightning bolt had hit me. Throw all the clichés my way. Time stood still. I had felt a connection. It was like somehow I felt I had known
her all my life. But I hadn't, and she was a student in my English class, and I was there to teach. When we had started the class introductions, I noticed that she was staring in my direction—blankly staring—with no idea that it was her turn to introduce herself, and then her friend had prodded her, and she had blushed. Well if that blush hadn't made her whole face look like a china doll's, just entirely like she was a precious object, and I had felt an extra hard beat of my heart. So I had berated her, pulled her up on her behavior, so I could distract myself and make myself feel better. And then she'd said her name—Candy Appleton. She couldn't have been named any better if her parents had gone with Snow White. She was sweet as Candy, and I did want a bite of that apple. I couldn't wait for class to be over. I needed to get out of there, get to my usual session at the pool and work this insanity from my system.
And then she'd asked for the tutoring.
When it had become clear that she was a lover of the English language and eager to learn, I had not been able to resist. Students who want to study hard and have a career in the subject should be encouraged. The thought of anyone else with one-on-one time with her made my blood boil in my veins. What the hell was happening to me?
I'd watched her walk out of my classroom. She was of medium height and build and that day had on a pleated skirt that stopped just above her knees. As she had got up from the chair in front of me, her skirt had ridden up a little, and her thighs were displayed to me for brief seconds of time: soft, tanned thighs. Thighs I wanted wrapped around my neck.
I pushed my chair backwards and got to my feet now my rock hard cock had decided to give it a rest. I gathered my belongings together and decided that swimming tonight was not going to do anything. I needed to get back to my apartment as quickly as possible so that I could watch a porno and jerk myself off.
I caught the subway home to Brooklyn and went into my studio apartment. I loved my modern little home. I had decided after Elvington that I wanted to stand on my own two feet and not use my parents' money to buy my way through life. My mom supported me wholeheartedly. My dad thought I needed committing to an institution. I didn't protest too much though when Mom arranged for the staff to pick up and do my laundry every week. I needed to look smart for work and experience had shown me that I was incapable of doing that all on my own. I'd not realized how dependent I'd been before. I'd gone from living with my parents to living with Eliza, and she had taken over the accounts and run our home in Queens. I wondered if her parents had found her a new rich bachelor to hook up with by now. It was what our families did, tried to marry money with money. When I realized I was free, I went all the way. I stopped accessing the money that my parents refused to take back and set up a separate bank account where I was self-sufficient, settling in my little apartment in Brooklyn. I had figured if I returned to teaching for the last semester I would get the joy of seeing the students graduate and I would hopefully find my place and my confidence again in teaching, away from the previous drama. A fresh start.
I threw my laptop case down in the hallway and headed straight through to the shower. Fuck the porno; I was hard as a rock again. I would just think of Jennifer Lawrence. It wouldn't be the first time. I stripped off my clothes and left them on the bedroom floor. A perk of living alone. I could do what the hell I wanted. After my shower, I just had to pop those clothes in a laundry bag, and like magic, they would be taken away and then brought back the following day and hung in the closet.
I padded into the bathroom and switched on the shower faucet, running the water until it was just the right side of hot and then I stepped in. I grabbed my washcloth, and hair and shower gel and began to lather myself up. I always felt like I had grime on my skin after a day out in the city. I felt the muscles in the back of my neck and shoulders begin to relax as the heat soaked in. However, the large muscle between my legs still shouted for attention. I soaped up my hands and grabbed my dick, lathering him up. He got harder, which I hadn't thought was possible. If I slipped in the shower, I was going to punch through a wall with this thing. I closed my eyes and let my hand move up and down it. I imagined Jennifer Lawrence in front of me, ready to take me into her willing mouth. Then her face was replaced, and no matter how much I tried to force my imagination to change the picture it was showing me, it stubbornly stayed there like a pen stain on a work shirt. Brown hair in long ringlets came to mind. A pouting mouth encased around my erect dick, warm lips sucking me to the back of her throat. My fist continued to stroke my cock up and down, while I leaned back against the shower wall. In my imagination, large doe eyes looked up at me wanting to know if it was to my satisfaction.
Harder. You can go harder.
I tightened my grip.
Like this? She sucked me with even more force.
Yes, oh yes, just like that.
And then my imagination moved to her lying on my bed, legs wide apart showing me those plump pink folds and her juices flowing as she begged me to fuck her. I nestled myself between those firm thighs, and I plunged into her core. Her heat accepted me, and I stared into those eyes.
Tell me you want me. Say it.
I want you.
I want you…?
I want you, Sir.
My balls pulled back, my cock tightened, and then I felt the rush as cum shot out of me in huge spurts across the shower stall. I collapsed back against the wall again, feeling like I'd run a marathon. My god, I'd never come like that before in my life. Immediately I felt shame wash over me. I had imagined having sex with a student. After all that had happened at Elvington, I was one day into the new semester, and I had jerked off to thoughts of an English student who I had to spend one-on-one time with on Thursday. I grabbed the shower head and cleaned down the stall, switched the faucet off and left the shower, wrapping myself in a towel. I knew I needed to back out of the arrangement.
To tell Miss. Candy Appleton that I was unable to tutor her.
But I knew as I had the thought that there was no way I was strong enough to do that.
That even if I couldn't have her, I didn't want anyone else to tutor her.
That I would be watching closely to see if any other male students were interested in her.
That I'd be looking to see when she was eighteen.
I was in deep shit.
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