Schooled 4.0

by Deena Bright

  I’m again surprised when he releases me, and steps back a few steps, away from me. Then, he simply and innocently asks if he can borrow one of the towels over on the chair. Shocked, I nod and throw a towel in his direction, not reaching him. He walks to pick it up, thanks me for lunch, and starts to get his shoes on.

  “I had fun today Miss Garrity,” he says, smiling. “You’re fun and easy to talk to.” Walking toward the water toys, he stops, and says, “Plus, it’s always a good day to hang out with a hot chick in her bikini.” He chuckles, flinging his towel at me.

  Leo puts the rafts and buckets back in the storage shed and leaves. I stand there confused and extremely disappointed. There’s no doubt about it; I’d wanted Leo Cling to kiss me, really kiss me. I could almost taste his lips on mine. I wanted to feel his mouth on mine. I’d wanted nothing else since he saved me from Marcus the other day. I gave him all the signals, didn’t resist it at all, and he didn’t take the cue.

  Or maybe he didn’t want to take the cue?

  Maybe, he’s resisting me?

  Damn, I’ll have to conquer that, fix that. I want to kiss his lips, taste him, and even lick his adorable dimples when he grins. Hell, he said he studied the woman’s anatomy—because of me. I want to know if his studies paid off. I have to know.

  “JASPER, NO, I can’t drop everything and go to New York City on Monday.”

  I cooked dinner and even cleaned up his house, so we could talk, figuring we were going to talk about my future, my musical, and even Marcus. I was dead wrong. Apparently, talking meant that he needed another favor from me. I knew that if I moved in to his pool house that I’d be forever in his debt, especially since he turned my 50 grand into 250 grand.

  “And you didn’t even touch your potatoes or chicken,” I whine. Jasper only ate his vegetables and salad—as always.

  “Nelle, I’m not eating breaded chicken; you should know that by now, Christ,” he cringes, picking it up and looking at it, like it’s a dead rat soaked in semen. “And there’s so much cheese on those potatoes, I wouldn’t shit for a week,” he explains, shaking his head. “You really should start watching what you eat, especially now that you’re back on the market.”

  “Jasper, I’m not—”

  Cutting me off, he adds, “You could use some exercise, getting a little flabby.” Jasper’s staring at my gut, pointing at my stomach. Leave it to Jasper to say it like it is. I haven’t gained one pound in three years, not one. I’m damn proud of that fact. Granted, I could use a little cardio and toning, and probably a little yoga too, but geez, back off.

  He continues, ignoring my pissed and stunned reaction, “I need you to go for me. I need to be in Atlanta for an important meeting.” He stops his explanation, thinking that he’d explained himself thoroughly. Realizing, that I’m still not sold, he says, “I promised I’d be at this fundraiser in New York—with my wallet. You need to go for me, represent Garrity Advertising… with my wallet… and my credit card.”

  Hmmm… in New York City… with is credit card? I like the sound of that.

  “What do you mean, with your credit card?” I ask, fishing for some incentives.

  “You can use the company card and my personal card. You can spend $1,000.00 on clothes and shit for the event, and use the company card for all other New York expenses.”

  He takes a drink of his water, gulping it down quickly. “Just go to the gala, represent me and the company, and donate 20 grand to the March of Dimes. That’s it.”

  Wow. That sounds fantastic. “One of our account reps will be with you too. She just graduated last fall from James Madison in Virginia.” I can tell that he’s done talking. He’s nearing the end of his patience with me. You only get a few moments of Jasper’s time.

  “She’s new, but good. Just moved back here, take her, show her the ropes. You’ve worked for me before. You know what’s what.” He opens his wallet, getting out both credit cards.

  “I’ll do it Jasp, but you owe me.” I take the cards from him.

  “I don’t owe you shit; you’re getting a pretty sweet deal. I have to go, need to run a few miles. I have a running date,” he starts to walk toward his bedroom. Stopping, he adds, “By the way, clean this mess up before you leave.”

  Jasper leaves the room, grabbing more green beans as he goes. Green beans. What an ass! An ass who just gave me a thousand bucks to blow in New York City. Cha-ching! I start cleaning up and say a silent prayer that no guy ever asks me out on a running date. What the hell?

  “ARE YOU KIDDING me? I’m so jealous. Did you ask if I could come too?” Char’s whining on the phone. “Can’t we spend the 1000 tomorrow BEFORE you go on Monday?” she begs, offering up a valid argument. It would be more fun to go shopping with her tomorrow instead of alone in New York. But, I want clothes from 5thAvenue, deserve them really if we’re being honest.

  “Char, I want Manhattan clothes. I get to pretend I’m rich,” I whine petulantly. She and I love pretending we’re loaded. We both know that being a teacher and a real estate agent in Ohio will never make us millions, so pretend riches are the closest we’ll ever get.

  “I know but that just sucks. This has been luckiest two weeks for you. I’m so jealous,” Char pouts back. “First you get rid of that Fuck, then you have two young studs pining for you… and now… now you get New York and Jasper’s money. I want to be you.”

  I love talking to Char. She always makes me feel so good about myself. Leave it to her to think that the end of my marriage is one of the best things that’s ever happened to me—something to be jealous of, no less. Maybe it is pretty great. Things seem awfully damn great right now. But, reality hasn’t really set in yet. But I do love Char; everyone should get to have a Char in her life.

  Once we hang up, I check myself out in the full-length mirror in the hallway, pulling my shirt up, scrutinizing my stomach. Flab. Bowls of flab. Jasper’s right. It’s time to start working on my body. In my defense, I did start swimming once I moved in here. I’ve done laps like two—maybe three times.

  Fine! I’ll do a quick yoga video before bed, let it relax me and help this Jell-o belly at the same time, before Bill Cosby comes in and does a commercial with me. Honestly, I still have no idea how a flat stomach can still be so flabby. Isn’t it enough that I’ve been eating right, well somewhat right, and making sure I don’t put on a ton of weight?

  I know so many wives and mothers who just let themselves go to the pudgy-pounding shit-can once they get married and have kids. I swore to myself that I wasn’t going to let that happen. I promised myself that I would be a sexy wife and mother, so Marcus always felt proud of the woman on his arm. A lot of fuck that did me now. I should’ve eaten my weight in Chunky Monkey.

  Nearly twenty minutes into my video, I start feeling pretty good, yet extremely sore form the lack of practice. I’m shoving my ass in the air in the infamous “downward dog” position when I hear a slight knock on the window directly behind me. I peek through my legs, making out Briggs’ silhouette in the dark. I motion for him to come around; the door’s unlocked.

  Walking through the door, he says, “Don’t mind me; I’m just enjoying the view.” He sits down right behind me and adds, “Mmm… mmm… mmm… really enjoying the view, baby.”

  “Briggs Alexander, I do not think so, get your sexy ass down here and stretch with me,” I grunt through the rest of the held position.

  “Nah… thanks… I’m good,” he says, sitting back and placing his hands behind his head, grinning from ear-to-ear. Briggs looks good—too good. His dark jeans are nicely-fitted, not the hanging-half-way-down-his-butt denims that he sported so often during his high school days. These sculpt to perfection on him. His fitted turquoise v-neck is tucked in and the sleeves are folded and pushed to his elbows. The shirt’s that thin, flimsy material that only well-built, muscular men can pull off. And Briggs can certainly pull it off—so well that I’m fighting the desire to pull it right off his body. A grey t-shirt peeks out at the V in his n
eckline. The blue and gray shirts bring out the blue in his eyes, making the whole package a sight for my poor, sexually deprived eyes. Briggs is beautiful; there is no other way to describe him. He’s mesmerizing. Yummy.

  “I don’t think you quite understand Mr. Alexander. Get down here and stretch with me, young man,” I order, honing in on my teacher voice. “Now.”

  “Awww man, I came here to take you out, maybe get a drink, something to eat,” he whines a little. His eyes get a mischievous glint, and then he adds, “I don’t know, maybe we could dance a little, heat up the dance floor like we did the other night.” I shake my head, not budging on my decision that we are working out—together. Briggs stands and pulls of his shirts, “I don’t want to get all hot and sweaty.”

  “Now Briggs, that disappoints me. Are you sure, you’re not still planning on getting maybe a little hot and sweaty with me tonight?” I ask, walking over to him, slowly and seductively. His eyes travel the length of my body, drinking in the sight of me with my body glistening with sweat, wearing only my sports bra and my boy-cut Victoria’s Secret tight, booty shorts.

  “I mean, yeah, I want to get hot and sweaty, but… but… not by exercising,” he admits, still staring at me, taking in every inch of my body. His stare, the desire in his eyes, is enough to make me wet. I nibble lightly on his ear, running my one fingernail down his chest and stomach. I stick the tip of my tongue in his ear while my finger trails below his waistline.

  “Screw drinks and dancing, maybe we should just stay right here,” he announces with lust in his eyes and a growl in his voice.

  “A big football player like you should know that exercise increases endorphins, which also increases one’s sex drive. Maybe with some more exercise, I’d want to take the wheel and drive a little.” I tease as I undo his belt buckle, yanking the belt from around his waist. “You know, you’d be able to do more if you got out of those jeans. I’m feeling a little underdressed here.”

  Within seconds, his jeans are next to his shirt in a pile on the floor. Standing before me in his boxer briefs and gray tight t-shirt, I find myself growing more hungry for him than I was before. It’s amazing how ravenous I can get while exercising. I can get really used to staring at him all day long. His build and skin are flawless. He’s like a sculpted art form, perfect in every way. “Lose the other shirt, too,” I command.

  Not missing a beat, he sheds his gray t-shirt, unveiling the most exquisite upper body on the planet. “I’m ready, do what you want.” He puts his arms out, offering himself to me. I put another video in the DVD player and hit “play.” It’s a more advanced video, but I want to see him struggle.

  We spend the next 60 minutes doing the video, laughing and joking throughout. Maybe Jasper’s right, exercise dates are pretty memorable, but I’m counting on making this date much more memorable. After the video ends, I go to the kitchen, getting us each an icy glass of water, filling each glass with ice cubes. We drink the water quickly, replenishing what fluids were lost during the workout. Briggs doesn’t take his eyes off of me. I like the appraisal, crave it, savor it.

  “I don’t know why you’re spending so much time working on that body, it’s working for you just fine.” He grabs me, pulls me to him, and begins nuzzling my neck.

  “Same reason you do, so people can spend hours worshipping the work I’ve put in to it,” I spin around and then wrap his arms around me, placing his hands on my breasts. “Start worshipping, Briggs, I need it.” I giggle, moving his hands over my breasts.

  “Well look who’s rushing things,” he says as he lifts my sports bra off, leaving me naked from the waist up. Still flushed and damp from the workout, I’m burning up with need for this man. He takes an ice cube from his glass, sucks the excess water off, and begins tracing my collarbone with the cube. The icy sensation is thrilling, chilling me on the outside, heating me up on the inside.

  “Oooh… wow… Briggs,” I whimper, leaning my head back against his chest as he continues to manipulate my nipples with the chilled delight. Turning slowing to face him, I grab an ice cube from his glass, putting the cube in my mouth, allowing the ice cube to melt onto his skin and into my mouth as I travel from his neck to his chest, concentrating on his nipples. They harden from the cool contact, making him groan. He hoists me up, throws me over his shoulder and grabs his glass as he walks into my bedroom.

  “You’re a fucking great teacher, but sooner or later, I might have to take the actual test.” He tosses me on the bed, grabs the waistband of my sporty booty shorts, and peels them from my body. “No underwear… fuck.” He growls as he crawls up the length of my body. “And that wax job, damn. I’m going lose it before I even touch you,” he says, shifting himself in his underwear.

  “My underwear goes up my butt when I do yoga, sorry.” I smile, winking at him. “I’ll guess I’ll wear them next time.”

  “Sorry… uhhh… man… not necessary. Not necessary at all. I should be thanking you.”

  Briggs’ body comes down on me, pinning me to the mattress. I can feel his rigidness between my legs. Kissing me for what feels like an eternity, I begin to feel an almost painful intensity between my legs. I want release, need release. Briggs is teasing me in the most gratifying and torturous manner. I created a monster. Thank God, I created this monster. I can’t wait for this animal to unleash himself as he eats me up and tears me apart.

  Taking another ice cube from the glass, he places it between his lips and trails it sensually down my neck to my nipples, sending shivers throughout my body. Sucking the ice cube all the way back into his mouth, he returns to my nipples again; they strain and pebble with arousal. Sucking the ice cube and my nipple simultaneously into his mouth, my body alights in desire and want. I feel the heat from his breath, coupled with the freezing sensation of the ice cube. Between my legs, the familiar feelings of heat and twinges begin. I want him tonight.

  Briggs removes the ice cube from his mouth, allowing the droplets of water to land on my stomach, in and around my belly button. The water’s cold, but the heat from his mouth and tongue, as he licks the water off my body, threatens to send me over the edge. I never knew it before, but Holy Christmas, Briggs Alexander is a fast, capable learner. A scholar—the fucking valedictorian of sex education.

  Getting another ice cube from his glass, he holds it in his hand, tracing it from my belly button to the top of my pubic bone and back up again. Nearly involuntarily, I gyrate my hips, pleading for him to touch something, taste something, penetrate something. My God, what happened to the fast-paced, gotta have it Briggs? What have I done? This is torture, pure agony. Moving my legs further apart, Briggs drips the water right between my legs. He opens me slightly, letting chilled water fall softly onto the center of my desire. I gasp. I just want him to touch me, create friction, give me my pent up release. He won’t. This time he’s got the ball, and we’re playing by his rules.

  “Briggs, please, I was wrong. You were right. Just… oh… God.” I hate begging him, but the prolonged pleasure is becoming painful.

  He chuckles, “This is what you wanted, Teach. You wanted me to slow down and take my time.” I pull on my own nipple, hoping to tempt him into finishing me. “You told me not to rush through my work and take more pride in it. I’m just doing my assignment.” His voice betrays him, coming out raspy, full of desire. At least, I know this is getting to him, too. I need to know that he wants me—craves me like I crave him.

  Without warning, he inserts the ice cube inside me, not letting it go, but keeping it just inside of me, causing my body to quake with shivers. Circling my clit with his tongue, applying pressure and releasing, all the while the ice cube melts inside me, water trickling out and down my behind. The sensation is spectacular. I’m torn between wanting him to stop and wanting him to continue. I can’t determine if it’s too cold or too perfect or too hot.

  I love it.

  I hate it.

  I need more of it.

  “Briggs, I’m going to… oh God…
Briggs…” I feel the orgasm coming from deep within. He lets up on the pressure, prolonging my orgasm by removing the ice cube and using his fingers to stimulate my hardened bud. He’s still rubbing me, when he sidles up beside me, using that same small sliver of ice to tease my nipple. Again, my orgasm approaches as he takes the ice cube away from my nipple, and looks into my eyes with those blue lustful eyes. Without warning, Briggs does the most erotic thing ever and pops what’s left of the ice cube into his mouth, chomping and smiling, moaning with desire as he swallows the ice cube.

  Holy smoldering Hell, he just ate the ice cube that was just inside of me. How hot is that? Briggs Alexander wants every single piece of me, and he’s going to stop at nothing to get me. He flutters his fingers around my clit again, applying soft pressure. In doing so, I explode with a powerful orgasm, holding him against me, biting into his bulging bicep.

  Coming down, still breathing hard, I say, “I guess this is what it’s like when you have students who go on to Harvard or Yale and you only got into Ohio State yourself.” I run my knuckles over his cheeks and down his neck. “Damn Briggs, you surpassed my expectations. Gold star for you.” I kiss his chest, tonguing his nipples, tugging them slightly.

  “You haven’t seen nothing yet babe.” He’s gained all the cockiness back from our first night together. He rolls over, pulling me on top of him. I sit astride him, as he kneads and rubs my nipples. His shaft rubs hungrily on my backside, straining to break free from his boxer briefs.

  I love the look of my skin on his; the contrast is sexy. I crave him and let him know as I run my hands all over his pecs and abs. His body is chiseled and rippled unlike any man I’d ever touched and explored before. I use my nails lightly to tickle his stomach and happy trail. Briggs shivers and his penis jerks, begging for freedom. Softly, I tickle the insides of his thighs and begin massaging his leg muscles. I fondle him delicately through his underwear, but we both know that this time, that’s not going to be enough.