She glares at me. "Because I don't want any evidence that I ever had that number. I even deleted your text requesting it. I don't know what you're planning to do with it, Savannah, but I know that asking for a teacher's cell phone number is never good."
I smile to myself because she's right. I have nothing but impure intentions for getting this number and I'm so glad I have a friend like Addison to get it for me because Chett would have never given it to me himself.
"Just be glad that Chett is such a flirt. It took less than a minute to get Mr. Tucker's phone number off his cell phone. Chett was too busy trying to score a date with one of the freshman girls to notice what I was doing."
Standing up from the bench I fold the paper and tuck it in my own bra. "I owe you, Addison. Anytime you need me to do something like this I will."
I don't give her the chance to respond as I skip away, my body filled with a childish glee for what's about to come.
After Mr. Tucker dropped me off late last night I had a really hard time falling asleep. He wound me up so tight with his teasing that even coming twice from my vibrator wasn't enough to satiate me...and being left sexually frustrated really pissed me off.
So I spent twenty minutes plotting ways to make this man find me irresistible.
Once I came up with my plan I spent the early morning hours finding the sexiest things I owned and posing provocatively while taking selfies on my bed with my phone. If he wants to leave me without a word and be a jerk, then I can be a jerk, too. I see only two outcomes from these pictures and either one is fine by me. The first outcome is he'll be so turned on that he'll hunt me down after school, drag me out to his car, drive me to his place, and make passionate love to me for the first time.
This is the outcome I prefer.
The second outcome is he'll be turned on but terrified someone might see the pictures and live in a state of constant fear, always looking over his shoulders and hoping the cops don't bust down his classroom door, until the day I graduate in May.
Like I said, I'm good with either outcome.
Landon
My head falls back and I roll my neck from my left shoulder to my right, trying to loosen up the stiff ache the tension of the last twelve hours has caused. I slept like shit last night, replaying that moment between Savannah and me where I almost crossed the line between teacher and student.
Fuck, did I want to cross the line.
She wanted me so bad, too. Her tits tempted me with each breath she took as the swollen curves pushed against my chest. Her full, luscious lips were just a breath away from mine and I wanted to bite down and taste her, jealous when she got to bite down instead. I could smell the strawberry scent of her shampoo when her hair lightly brushed against my face and it took every ounce of willpower I had to not close the tiny gap between us and instead walk away.
She's dangerous to me. I don't know if I can be around her again.
She's so goddamn beautiful it makes every female student and teacher at this school jealous, and every male–young and old–wishing she would acknowledge him. The worst part is she knows the effect she has on men, and she knows I'm no different. She's tempting me on purpose. It would be so easy to give in, rip her clothes off that perfect teenage body of hers and fuck her until I ruin her for any other man, but I can't do that. I'm her teacher. I know better.
I swear, the first several weeks at this school, forced to be around Savannah Simple every day, has aged me ten years. I look nothing close to twenty-five. I even have a few gray hairs coming in and the cause has got to be the little vixen herself.
The bell to end fourth period rings and I realize I've been staring off at the back wall, thinking about Savannah for a majority of the class. If I don't get this fascination I have with her under control the students are going to start to notice I'm no longer teaching the class. Thank fuck they were studying for a test today and I wasn't supposed to teach a lesson.
Fifth period is my lunch and planning period so when the last student walks out, I close the classroom door and lock it. Moving back to my desk I sit down in my chair and take a deep breath, glad to have a period to myself. I open the bottom drawer to my desk and pull out my phone and sack lunch, ready to eat the avocado, kale, and Ezekiel bread sandwich I made myself this morning and check my personal email.
It's when I look down at my phone that I see I've missed texts from an unfamiliar number. I tap the screen to pull up the messages and when my eyes take in the visual in front of me, I drop my phone in shock and it hits the hard edge of the desk before falling to the carpeted floor.
Holy shit. I did not just see what I think I saw.
I reach down and grab my phone from the floor and when I bring it back up to my desk there's a large crack down the center of the screen.
My luck sucks right now. That little cock tease caused me to crack my screen.
The screen's gone black and I know all I have to do is slide my finger and type in my passcode and I'll be able to study the pictures that were sent to me. I shouldn't do it. I can't. It's so wrong and if I cross this line, what line will I cross next? Savannah should have never sent these to me. It's wrong...but even as I try to talk myself out of looking at the images, the growing erection underneath my slacks is demanding to have a say in this. All the blood in my body is traveling to one area and suddenly the only head I'm thinking with is the one attached to my cock.
I unlock my phone and there she is. Savannah is lying on a bed with an outdated floral comforter, her back resting against a few white pillows. Her long, brown hair is gathered over one shoulder. Her mouth is slightly parted as she bites down on her index finger and I can't help but want that finger to be my cock. My eyes trail down to her chest. The picture was taken from the waist up and she's in just a cream color bra. I'm able to see most of her soft, flawless tan skin.
What am I doing? I need to stop this.
No, I need to see the other pictures she sent.
I slide my finger to reveal the next picture. In this one Savannah's in a white tank top. The material is thin and she's not wearing a bra so I can faintly see her pink areolas and hard nipples under the shirt. She's got an extremely short, plaid skirt on and her right hand has disappeared between her legs. I can only imagine what she's doing with her hand and it makes my cock grow even harder. The way she's holding the camera with her other hand allows me to see her entire, sexy body.
I'm so fucking screwed.
I swipe to the last picture and as soon as I see this one I fumble with my phone. The other two pictures were bad, but this one is much worse. I find myself deleting the three pictures before I can even give it a second thought.
What was she thinking sending me those? There's still two weeks before she's eighteen. She's not legal. I could go to jail for even seeing those pictures.
But fuck, it would be worth it. In the last picture she was completely topless, her perky teardrop tits covered in soap suds as her hard nipples pointed up to the camera. I reach down between my legs and push my cock down with the heel of my palm, trying to get my urges under control. I want nothing more than to call her into my classroom, scold her for her actions, and then drop my pants and order her to suck my cock until I come all over her mouth since she's the one who made my cock so damn hard.
Instead, I ignore my throbbing erection and think about anything other than Savannah's willing body. After ten minutes of picturing some of the most disgusting, grossest, non-sexual visuals you could ever imagine my hard-on is finally flaccid and I'm able to think clearly. I have to take a step back from Savannah. I have to create some distance because I can never find myself in another situation where she's sending me pornographic texts because next time I won't have the willpower to delete them.
My phone vibrates, alerting me to a new text, and when I look down at the screen it's a few short words from the same number.
Unknown: My bad. I meant to send those pictures to someone else. Enjoy, Mr. Tucker <3
Oh, thos
e pictures were no mistake and this sweet girl thinks she's pulled one over on me, but I'm just as smart as I look. She had to have sought out my number because I definitely didn't give it to her and it's obvious by this last text that she wants to continue to play a game with me that I never agreed to play.
Making up my mind I don't respond, ignoring her text and never acknowledging the pictures she sent me. If I'm going to make it through the rest of the school year I need to ignore the seductive hot piece of jailbait unless I'm teaching or tutoring her.
Chapter Seven
December
His hands are in my brown hair, pulling on the long tresses so my head falls back and then his lips are on my neck, obscenely kissing my flesh. His mouth moves lower and lower and then suddenly I'm no longer facing him. I'm turned around and topless, with my chest pushed against the top of his desk. He's lifting my plaid skirt up around my waist. I'm in just a thong and he teasingly trails a finger up between the crack of my plump ass.
"You've been a very, very bad student, Savannah."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Tucker."
But I'm not sorry. I want to be bad. I want to be punished.
"Do you know what I do to bad students?" His bare arm flashes in my sight and I see him pick up his wooden ruler from his desk. When I turn my head to try and get a glimpse of him, his shirt is off, revealing a flat chest with hills of abs leading to an oh-so-sexy happy trail. His dress slacks are unbuttoned at the top and if he weren’t holding me down on his desk I'd help him remove his slacks the rest of the way.
I suddenly feel a stinging pain on one of my butt cheeks, and then the other. The pain starts to fade and when I look back over at him he's holding the ruler and smiling at me seductively. "I spank bad students and then I fuck them."
"Oh please, please fuck me," I plea.
He leans in over me and his lips meet mine in a punishing kiss. Then he's spanking me with the ruler over and over again, igniting my insides and making me wetter than a porn star.
"Harder. I want it to hurt," I beg.
He spreads my legs apart and his fingers fill the gap and play with my pussy. His thumb starts massaging my clit as he insert two fingers inside my core, finger fucking me and building me up to what can only be an explosive orgasm. As each second ticks by my flesh gets warmer, my breathing heavier, but then his hand is gone and I'm instantly denied the release I need so badly.
"Please...Mr. Tucker. I need to come." I'm hoping he will have pity on me.
He bends down behind me and I'm tempted to close my legs but when I feel the slap of the ruler against my clit I'm glad I didn't refuse him. He hits my clit again and again and the vibrations are torture. The pulsing pleasure stirs and I know he's going to make me come just by his ruler. With each hit I hear a buzzing sensation in my ears, I feel the walls of my pussy tighten. I'm almost there....just...a few more...seconds...
I'm startled awake by the buzzing vibrations of my phone alarm and groan out in protest. I don't want to wake up. I was so happy and content a few moments ago. My body feels weightless. Then the throbbing between my legs intensifies and I start to remember my dream and why my hand is resting on my clit.
Fuck. It was just a dream.
Dammit!
Why does this keep happening? Why can't I finish in my dream before my alarm goes off?
I shift on my bed and reach under the mattress, my fingers hunting for what I'm looking for and when my hand falls on my silicone, two-inch boyfriend I smile in relief. I pull my clitoral vibrator out and turn it on, the buzzing and vibrations immediately begin and I decide it'll be okay being a few minutes late to school because I can't go in all horny and flustered. It wouldn't be fair to Landon to attack him in front of the entire class just because he teased me and didn't finish me off in the dream.
My mind brings me back to the place my dream left off. I pretend my vibrator is Mr. Tucker's ruler. Soon I'm twisting and turning above my sheets and I come from a scenario I hope will happen one day soon between Landon and me.
One more day. I just need to get through one more day without him.
Tomorrow will be December second and I'll be eighteen, which is the legal age of consent in Tennessee. Hallelujah, praise the Lord! I'll be old enough to have sex with my teacher.
I've dreamed about this day for a long time and for so many different reasons. Eighteen is a big deal. I can live on my own if I choose to do so. But I'd be lying to myself if I didn't admit that the real joy in turning eighteen tomorrow is that I'm no longer going to hold back with Landon. The worst that could happen is he rejects me and no longer tutors me, but if I'm right about his attraction towards me he won't be telling me no. He'll be shredding my clothes off my body and fucking away my innocence.
***
For the first time in a long time the school day breezes by and I find myself in history class with Landon. His broad well-built chest is on display in another fitted, button down dress shirt. This shirt is green with thin navy blue stripes. His brown wavy hair is getting longer and by the way he brushes it out of his eyes I know he'll be getting a haircut soon. I just hope he can wait a few more days because I want to pull on his unmanageable hair while he goes down on me.
I'm so fucking horny it's ridiculous.
My grades the last few weeks have really improved. I ended up getting an A on that English test, and Landon and I haven't discussed the way I crossed the line with my flirting that night we lost track of time, or the following morning when I sent him my...tasteful pictures. I think he's afraid to bring it up because I'm a bit of a loose cannon around him and instead of apologizing I might try to tempt him all over again.
"Class, the next fifty minutes will really test how well you listen. I'm required by the school-mandated curriculum to play this video that was produced back in the seventies. The graphics are horrible and the acting is...well...let's just say I'd be surprised if any of the actors got another job after this. The video goes along with the current chapter we're studying so I want you all to pay close attention. I'll be giving you a short quiz on it at the beginning of class tomorrow."
Landon hits a few buttons on the remote and my eyes follow his backside as he strides over to the door in his fitted dark khakis and shuts it before turning off the lights. The movie starts with cheesy music and the opening credits rolling down the screen, and then a thirty-something man with a bad southern accent saunters on the screen and begins to talk about our country's history. His monologue is a snooze fest so I bail on the movie and decide to watch Landon instead.
He's turned his chair so he's facing sideways and can watch the film with us. He's resting comfortably, leaning back in the chair as his legs come off the floor to rest on his desk, crossing his feet at the ankles.
There is really no other man on the planet that can make dress clothes look so good. Before Landon came around I was into older men like Dylan who wore jeans and a t-shirt every day but there is something to be said about a man who dresses well. I'm completely infatuated with him on an unhealthy level, but I can't stop the way I feel. My heart flutters when he enters the room, when he speaks the sound possesses my soul, and I can picture the two of us together for a long time.
I just want to experience life with him.
He can continue teaching while I take the next year or two and figure out what I want to do for the rest of my life. Maybe I'll be a hairdresser or esthetician, or maybe I'll surprise myself and actually take a few classes at the community college. During the day we'll be apart but at night we can come together, share our days with one another, and make love until it's time to fall asleep.
I'm getting too invested in this one-way relationship. I need to stop thinking with my vagina and use my brain. Mr. Tucker stirs something inside me and suddenly my hormones go crazy creating a chemical imbalance and all I want to do is fuck his brains out, only stopping when he's sated and I've come half a dozen times.
Maybe I've watched too many movies or read too many romance novels. Maybe
a sexual experience like that, especially my first one, isn't even possible. But I have a vivid imagination and a healthy libido so a girl can dream. My expectations are high, I know that, but something tells me he's just the man to prove to me that multiple orgasms and ringing his cock out of every last drip is an attainable goal.
As if he knows I'm thinking dirty thoughts, Landon's eyes flicker in my direction and I can't help but grin. To my astonishment he laughs under his breath, shaking his head slightly. He continues to watch me with a little more interest than before. We hold our gaze for what seems like forever. Our connection doesn't break until Annette–another girl in class–comes up to his desk to ask for the bathroom pass.
I steal glances at him for the rest of the period and each time he catches me. It's like we're playing a game of peek-a-boo but both of us want to be caught and neither of us wants to hide our eyes. I don't know what's changed but I like this lighter, goofy side of him. He's usually so serious–all work and no play. I hope his playfulness transfers over to our tutoring session tonight because we're only nine hours away from my eighteenth birthday and I plan on unwrapping Landon as my gift.
Chapter Eight
Landon
This school year has been one fucking huge test. I've barely passed since day one when Savannah Simple walked into my classroom and my career went in the trash, waiting to be taken to the curb. Today I'm failing miserably at this thing called life. I've had a few moments over the past few months where I almost gave in and took what she was offering me, but my conscience always popped in and saved the day.
Then there were those scandalous photos she sent me. That really could have ruined me, but I somehow managed to do the right thing and delete them from my phone and ignore Savannah. Today is different.
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