Mr. Tucker

by Justine Elvira

  From the other side of the couch Landon's chest moves up and down with each soft, steady breath he takes. His arms are crossed over his chest. His eyelids are closed, and I don't waste this rare moment. I study every inch of him. His skin looks so soft and I wouldn't be surprised if he's religious about applying lotion. His facial scruff is a little longer than normal but still stubble because I can see the olive skin underneath. His mouth is closed and I'm able to admire his soft pink lips.

  I want to feel those lips on every inch of my body.

  Landon fell asleep twenty minutes ago and I've spent most of those twenty minutes admiring him. Instead of doing the kind thing and waking him up so he can take me home and go back to bed, I've decided to wait until after midnight so I can wake him up more intimately and without the fear of him being put on the sex offender registry. I know what he said earlier, but I'll hate myself if I don't try one more time. The time on the bottom right side of the flat screen reads 11:56pm.

  I have four more minutes.

  In four minutes I'll finally be able to act out my fantasy with Landon and hope I don't hear more words of rejection. There's a small chance I've read too much into his actions and the words he's spoken to me over the last few months. Maybe I was only feeling what I wanted to feel from him. What if he's not attracted to me at all? What if he's no longer single and met someone since he moved here, or is only attracted to older women?

  No, I definitely didn't misread him. I see the way he watches me–the way his eyes linger on my breasts and my legs, and when I turn around I can feel him checking out my ass. He definitely wants what's in front of him. The question now is how should I wake him up? Should I strip naked and curl up next to him, or should I lean in and kiss him awake.

  As I'm thinking of multiple ways to wake him up my English poem recites in my head:

  Oh, Mr. Tucker,

  I bet you're a good fucker,

  I want to lick you like a sucker,

  Until you come on my pouty pucker.

  That's always a possibility. I bet he'll love waking up to a hot chick sucking his dick, but it may be bordering on rape since I'm doing it without his consent. Our first time needs to be a clear green-light-means-go yes. Once we've been together for a while I can start waking him up with blowjobs.

  The screen on the flat screen reads 12:03am and it's time for me to make my move. Whether he rejects me or not, I still need to wake him up because he has to take me home. His rejection may make things awkward in class but I'm willing to be humiliated as long as I tried.

  After all, he's the one who taught me to never give up.

  Plus, we have school in a few hours and it would look really bad if I showed up in the same clothes as yesterday and in the passenger seat of the hot first-year history teacher. It's settled. I'm waking him up.

  Crawling over to his side of the sofa I straddle his legs. I place my knees on each side of his hips and gently sit down. My skirt scrunches up around my waist so that the only material between us is my thong and his sweatpants. He doesn't even flinch from my weight, but underneath me I feel his manhood rise and I suppress the groan that wants to come out. The slight movement of his hard cock pushed against my pussy feels incredible–pure bliss.

  I lean forward so we're chest to chest and my hard nipples push against him. I know I need to continue with stirring him awake, but I can’t help myself and grind my body against his in anticipation of what I hope is to come. Looking down at his peaceful face, I brush my cheek against his. My lips graze his ear and I suck his earlobe between my lips before whispering, "Wake up, Mr. Tucker."

  He shifts slightly underneath me and groans. His hands come up to my waist, his fingers gripping my hips, but other than that he's still sound asleep. I lean in again and practically make out with his earlobe before sighing seductively, "Wake up, Mr. Tucker."

  I kiss his cheek then move my lips to his jaw, savoring the taste of his skin. My lips hover over his and when I look up to see if he's awake, his grayish-blue eyes burn into mine. He looks a little tired and slightly confused, but there's no mistaking the desire in his gaze. I decide to use this to my advantage. Leaning in, I brush my lips against his and to my surprise he returns the kiss.

  His lips mold against mine, fitting so perfectly they were almost always meant to be connected. I never thought his mouth on mine could feel this incredible. His hands tighten on my hips, his fingers slipping beneath the scrunched up material of my skirt to caress my bare ass. A tortured groan escapes his mouth and enters mine, and suddenly our sweet make-out session turns frenzied.

  His lips break from mine and move down to my throat, kissing over my frantic pulse. I collapse against his body as small moans of appreciation escape my lips with each possessive kiss.

  I'm flipped onto my back and Landon hovers above me. His eyes search mine for...what? Approval? I nod my head, hoping that's all he needs and the subtle movement must be enough for him. His weight crushes down on me as his lips find mine again.

  His hands are everywhere. They start in my hair, twisting and pulling my long tresses in the direction he needs my head to go so his lips can kiss my lips. His mouth against mine is firm and greedy, never allowing a moment of separation. With this kiss I know I'll never be the same again. He owns me and that thought excites me.

  When we're both out of breath, his lips break from mine and move to my chin, and then down my neck. My skin is hot, I feel slightly feverish, and the press of his lips against my flesh is the soothing medication. His hands move to my neck and then my chest. When his palms cup the curves of my breasts he squeezes my tits through the thin material of my shirt and bra. My nipples harden against his hands and he doesn't ignore them. His fingers find the aroused buds and he pinches each one, and I feel high volts of electricity shoot through my body.

  Holy shit. I knew this would feel good, but I never could have imagined how good.

  My hands are in his hair, holding his mouth to my body. Then I'm gripping the strands of hair at the nape of his neck as I pull his face up so his lips can dance with mine again. His tongue dips into my mouth and I suck on it, wishing it were his cock my lips are wrapped around. He tastes divine and I never want his mouth and tongue to leave mine. He lets out another hungry groan and I release my hold. The tips of our tongues tentatively touch and circle around each other. I bite down on his lip to stop myself from screaming out in pleasure when his knee falls between my legs and brushes against my center.

  His hands continue to move lower. He ignores the mess of material around my waist and his palms fall on my bare hips. The pads of his fingers slide across my soft skin, goose bumps cover my body and then his fingers find the string of my thong and it's a reminder that there's still something between him and my starved pussy. I want him to rip the thong off me so he can have his way with the most important part of my body.

  But the thong is a reminder for him, too–a completely different reminder and the moment his hands land on the flimsy string he stills above me, and I know that my clit won't be getting any attention tonight. Landon pushes himself off me and quickly creates distance between him and the sofa. The heel of his left palm presses down on the tent in his pants.

  "Cover yourself up," he demands, his words coming out aggressive and shameful. This was not the way my eighteenth birthday was supposed to start out.

  I stand up and adjust my clothing until my skirt is covering the parts it needs to cover. My nipples are still hard and trying to poke through my thin shirt. I can't really hide them because there's only so much I can do with the clothing options I have.

  "Why did you stop?" The disappointment is impossible to hide in my voice.

  Landon closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "We shouldn't have even started, Savannah." His eyelids open and he adds in an accusatory tone, "Why were you on top of me? Did you actually think it would be okay to wake me up like that?"

  "I did. I thought you wanted me the way I want you."

  "So that makes it
okay to straddle me and arouse me in my sleep so I'll wake up confused and horny?"

  Well, when he says it like that...

  He's so angry and suddenly I'm regretting everything I put in motion. The feelings of desire I had for him moments ago are gone. The only desire I have right now is the desire to get the hell out of here. My hormones got the best of me and Landon clearly wasn't ready for the ambush he woke up to. Maybe he needs time...or maybe I should just find someone else to focus all of my attention on because even if I made a mistake, I don't deserve to be scolded.

  I quickly gather my things and start my escape to the front door. I'm not fast enough because Landon grabs my arm and turns me around to face him. "I'm sorry." He's calmed down and his voice is apologetic. "I shouldn't have gone off on you like that. This wasn't your fault. It was mine. You're just a kid."

  I yank my arm out of his hold. "I'm not a kid. I'm eighteen."

  A look of pain passes across his face before he dramatically exhales and replies, "And I'm your twenty-five-year-old teacher. Nothing can happen between us, Savannah."

  "Something just did."

  "You're right, and like I said that was completely my fault. I won't let it happen again. I'm usually much more responsible than that but I had just woken up and you were grinding on top of me. That's no excuse. It was still entirely my fault. Let me grab my keys and I'll drive you home."

  I nod my head and agree to let him drive me home. I'm afraid to speak because I don’t want my voice to reveal my emotions. I feel hurt and rejected, but there's also a part of me that's hanging on to a little bit of hope because he wasn't able to resist me back on that couch. The connection between us is strong. He's just scared and bound by the ethical rules that are embedded inside his brain. He needs to see me as an adult. There's nothing wrong with two good-looking, horny, consenting adults having sex.

  On the ride home I overthink everything I want to say to him, so I say nothing at all. The silence causes the tension inside the small vehicle to grow and grow until I finally roll down my window to breathe in the fresh, cool air outside. It's nearly one am when we pull into my driveway and Landon cuts the lights on his car and turns off the engine.

  We sit in dark silence for a long time. I should say goodnight and go inside, but the night seems unfinished somehow. I can't leave until I know he feels more for me than what he's saying. I need to know how he truly feels and what he wants to do about it.

  His hands are clenching the steering wheel, his knuckles white from the force. He stares straight ahead out the windshield and right at my single car garage door. It's clear he doesn't have anything to say to me.

  Fuck it. I'm just going inside.

  My hand grips the handle of the door when he shatters me and says, "I can’t tutor you anymore."

  "What?" I gasp.

  This can’t be happening. I know I've said over and over again that I don’t give a shit about school but since he began tutoring me my grades have been amazing. It makes me feel...good. Like I've accomplished something worthy of recognition. He can't just quit. "You can’t say that. You don't mean it. I need you."

  "It’s not a good idea, Savannah. When I'm around you–"

  "When you're around me what? You're attracted to me?"

  "Something like that."

  "Well, tonight you've proven you're strong enough to resist the attraction, even if there's no need to resist because I'm legal. I'm not going to let you quit on me over something so stupid. My entire life people have quit on me in one way or another. The education system quit on me when it let me slip through the cracks. We both know that it's an injustice that I was even in twelfth grade. This school would have let me graduate, earning an undeserved diploma, because the school quit on me by not giving a shit. They just wanted students like me to graduate and get the hell out.

  "You're different. You came in, took the time to talk to me and read my file, saw the way I slipped through the cracks of the education system, and wanted to make a difference. Here's the really impressive part–you did it. You took a girl who never studied, never did her homework, and failed almost every assignment handed to her, and you turned her into a woman who studies hard and has a 3.6 GPA this quarter.

  "I don’t care if you're attracted to me, want to fuck me, or want to kill me for wanting to fuck me, but you're not quitting on me. You're going to keep tutoring me, dammit, because you owe me that much."

  I climb out of his carbefore he can disregard my plea and tell me he's sorry and I slam the passenger door behind me. I walk confidently, with my head held high, to my front door and insert the key in the lock. As the heavy door squeaks open I hear Landon's sexy low voice call my name. I turn around and squint into the darkness. He's turned his car back on and is leaning across the center console with his head peering out the passenger window.

  "I'll keep tutoring and studying with you, Savannah, but no more weeknights and no more sessions at my townhouse. We'll get through the rest of the week and I'll see you bright and early on Saturday in my classroom."

  The last word is barely out of his mouth and then he's back in the driver's seat and peeling out of my driveway, his wheels squealing as he speeds down my street. He can’t get away from me fast enough.

  I've been eighteen for an hour and so far it's nothing like I thought it would be. I imagined walking in my front door with a huge smile on my face and soreness between my legs. Instead I walk inside the house and down the hallway to my room with too much pent-up energy and tears falling down my flushed skin.

  After I shut and lock my bedroom door I fall onto my bed. I slip my hand down the front of my skirt before sliding my thong to the side and brushing the pads of my fingers across my clit. This pent-up sexual energy needs to go somewhere and since Landon refused to finish what he started I'm going to do it myself.

  Happy Birthday to me.

  Chapter Ten

  "I see you and Mr. Fucking Fuckable are no longer close."

  We're sitting in the cafeteria eating lunch when Anna Belle hits me with her eerily accurate observation.

  “Huh?" I ask, playing stupid.

  "You and Mr. Fuckable. He always says hello to you in the hallway and he usually comes by our table at lunch to see how our day is going, but we all suspect he really comes by to check on you. This week it's like we don’t exist."

  Now that Anna Belle brings this to my attention I realize he does always go out of his way to greet me in the halls. I never thought much of it because we spend so much time together outside of class. She's so observant and she's right because he swings by our table at lunch, too. I never really thought about how it must look to others because he's such a big part of my daily routine, but his absence makes it obvious that he's avoiding me in school, too.

  It's been like this all week. He never calls on me in class or even glances in my direction. I miss his subtle glances and the way he used to hover over me while I tried to study. I know Monday night was a huge mistake in his eyes, but ignoring me is no better and people are noticing his change in behavior.

  "I guess I never noticed," I reply passively, hoping my response is enough for her. It's not.

  "Oh, please. We all know you have a thing for Mr. Fucking Fuckable, Savannah."

  Addison chimes in. "You practically salivate at the mouth when he talks to you and if you were a dog you'd be humping his leg for attention."

  I set my sandwich down, no longer hungry. "Why are you calling him Mr. Fucking Fuckable?"

  "The freshman girls gave him the nickname and it stuck. He's fuckable hot, his name rhymes with fucker, and somehow it turned into Mr. Fucking Fuckable."

  Landon's on his normal lunch supervisor duty this period and as he walks down the pathway between the tables his eyes dart towards our table as if he knows we're talking about him. Even though he never directly looks at me my cheeks flush and I look down at my lap like a submissive, embarrassed, little girl. He walks past our table and down the rest of the pathway without saying hel
lo to any of us.

  "See," Jo Lynne says from beside me as she nudges me with her shoulder. "He's completely ignoring our entire table. Did you two get in a lovers' quarrel? Have you been friend-zoned?"

  The other girls laugh and I just glare at Jo Lynne and respond, "There's nothing going on between me and Mr. Tucker."

  "You mean Mr. Fucking Fuckable."

  Ignoring her, I continue, "And I haven't been friend-zoned. There's no such thing because he's my teacher not my friend. If anything I've been teacher-zoned."

  "That's too bad. I see the way you look at him and for a brief period of time I thought maybe you'd get lucky and be able to start an illicit teacher-student affair."

  I never realized how obvious I was being with my affection. I guess I never thought I was interesting enough for my friends to take notice, or that they would be on board for me hooking up with a teacher. I'll have to be more careful if I ever develop feelings for someone again since Mr. Tucker made it crystal clear Monday night that he and I are over.

  "You watch too many Lifetime movies.” I laugh, attempting to bring lightness to the subject. Jo Lynne’s observation surprises me the most. She's usually so self-absorbed.

  "Yeah, I guess I do, but can you just imagine what must be under those sweater vests? I bet he's great in bed."

  "And on that note I'm done with lunch." Addison gags and then stands up to throw out her trash and put her tray away.

  My friends and I part ways and my Friday classes finish uneventfully. I was hoping to be able to talk to Landon after class to confirm our tutoring plans for tomorrow but we had a sub for history instead. He either left early for a legit excuse or is trying to avoid me. Either way I'm not able to talk to him, and I spend my entire shift at the GG-mart weighing the pros and cons of having a tutor. Maybe I've improved so much I don't need to show up tomorrow.

  The second I try to feed myself that lie I laugh at how stupid it sounds. Of course I still need a tutor.

  The rest of my shift I think of all the ways tomorrow morning can go wrong. Even Dylan's flirting isn't enough to distract me from my thoughts.