His Little Cheater

The Forbidden Love Affair Series:
Book One
 
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The author makes no claims to but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following marks
mentioned in this work of fiction.
Copyright © 2018 by Vanessa Kelly.
His Little Cheater by V. Kelly
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in
or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording, or otherwise) without written permission of above copyright owner of this book, except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Editor: Fancy Peterson
Cover Design: Dark Water Covers
Cover Art License:
Printed in the United States of America
First Edition: November 2018
Library of Congress Cataloging-In-Publication Data has been applied for
Kelly, V
His Little Cheater–1st Edition
ISBN-13:

ISBN-10:
Synopsis:
 

I’ve never considered myself the cheating type, but desperate times call for
desperate measures when your roommate throws a class ten kegger the
night before your geometry midterm.
I didn't get in the amount of studying I had planned, and if it weren't for the
fact that my hot as hell geometry teacher is a complete asshole, I wouldn’t
even be in this situation. But here I am, on all fours, with the test answers in
hand, hiding underneath his desk, praying to God that he doesn't sit down
and catch me.
You’d think a girl like me would be worrying about her future if she gets
caught cheating, but as Professor Hanson sits down and his hand starts
slowly rubbing the bulge in his tight jeans, I realize there's a lot more to him
than I thought. ESPECIALLY when I hear him whisper MY name while
touching himself. Now my future is the last thing on my mind.  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
This book is dedicated to my readers.  Your love, support, and friendship mean the world to me.
Thank you for sticking by me and waiting patiently for this book.
 
 
 
Note to my Readers:
 
This book is unlike any I have written before. I usually write romantic comedies, but this book is
filled with angst, turmoil, and a darker storyline. If you don’t enjoy taboo erotic romances, this book
series is not for you.
 
It took me a very long time to write this book. I’ve had a lot of health issues over the past year with
my children, and it’s left me in a bit of a depression. Writing felt more like a chore than it did a
passion for me. I lost the drive to write, and I needed a break from it for a while. I chipped away at
this book for over a year, and I’m happy to say that I’m excited to branch out of my genre and
explore something a little edgier.

I hope you enjoy His Little Cheater and please keep an eye out for the other books in The Forbidden
Love Affair Series:
 
His Little Pyro
His Little Sister
and
His Little Intern
 Pressley
“Pressley, please don’t tell me you’re actually thinking about stealing
the answers to the test?”
It’s amusing how shocked my roommate Chelsea looks right now. It’s
her fault I’m even contemplating stealing the test answers in the first place.
 Last night, she threw a huge party and stole every measly second I had
to study for my midterms.
Chelsea could give two shits about her own midterms. She’s a party girl
that relies on her daddy’s fat pockets to get her through college. I’m
convinced that he’s paid off at least half the faculty at our university just to
bring up her solid D average to a B, because that’s the only explanation for
how she passes every one of her classes without ever touching a textbook.
Then you have me. I’m not the best student, but I’m not the worst either.
I do my best to maintain my 3.0 GPA so I can keep my scholarship while
managing my already tough social schedule.
All of my teachers love to help me with my classwork, except for HIM.
That asshole gets sick pleasure out of watching me squirm in his class.
I thought taking College Geometry would be a solid ‘A’ for me—it’s
one of my favorite subjects. And even though it has nothing to do with my
major, I took the class hoping it would pad my grade point average and give
me some extra credits toward my degree. I’m working towards a Bachelor’s
Degree in Psychology, so when I heard PTU’s Geometry class also came
with a sexy as hell male professor; I was the first girl to sign up.
Boy, was I a chump.
Professor Hanson may be easy on the eyes, but he’s the biggest jerk I’ve
ever met. When I asked him for extra help in understanding hyperbolic
geometry, he flat out refused.
“I could help you, Miss Withers, but if I help you, then I would have to
help two hundred other students as well. Maybe instead of texting on your
phone all day, you should pay more attention to what I’m writing on the
board, but I know that a girl like you has difficulties paying attention to
anything that isn’t a mirror.”
THOSE WERE HIS EXACT WORDS!
 I swear he hates me. I failed my last test because I didn’t show my work
on one measly problem. If the big fat F wasn’t enough, he wrote in the
corner with a bright red pen:
 
If you will not take your tests seriously by showing all of your work, I
suggest you drop my class.
~Prof. H~
 
That bastard even took the time to draw a stupid smiley face after his
signature. I was so angry that I sought out Dean Willoughby and gave him a
piece of my mind, demanding that Professor Hanson give me the grade I
deserved. The dean didn’t do shit to him. Instead, he took his side and
pointed out that my test said to show your work on ALL problems, and that
maybe I should have read the test instructions before rushing through it.
They can both go to hell for all I care.
I only have a half of a semester left before I’m done with this class, and
by God, I WILL pass with at least a B, even if it kills me.
I guess that’s why I’m so desperate right now. My geometry midterm
counts for sixty-five percent of my grade. If I don’t do well on it, I might as
well drop his class right here, right now. The sad part is that I’m too far into
the semester and dropping his class would only mess with my GPA.
“You’re crazy—certifiably insane!” Chelsea is pacing around the room.
“Mr. Hanson will eat you alive if he catches you cheating. How do you
expect to get away with it?”
“My plan is foolproof. I’ve gone over the details in my head at least
eighty times since my first cup of coffee and that was ten minutes ago.”
“Well, by God, tell me this foolproof plan you seem to think will work,”
she says sarcastically.
Chelsea’s skepticism makes me laugh. She knows damn well that my
ideas are always golden.
“Mr. Hanson’s prep hour is first thing in the morning. He always goes to
the coffee shop on Third and Maple, grabs himself a sausage ‘n’ egg
biscuit, and a ginormous cup of extra black coffee.”
“Eww, he likes his coffee black?” Chelsea looks even more disgusted
than she did last night when Peter Reynolds decided to use her favorite hat
as his own personal vomit bucket.
 “Yes, he drinks his coffee black because it matches the color of his soul.
I swear that man needs a little sugar and cream in his life. There isn’t one
sweet thing in that sexy, bearded body of his.”
“And let me guess. You’d be more than happy to give him that sugar.”
Chelsea makes an obnoxious kissy face at me, forcing me to roll my eyes.
“If he weren’t an arrogant, misogynist, with a short man complex, I’d be
all over him.”
Chelsea giggles, “That man is anything but short.”
She’s right. Professor Hanson is six feet and four inches of pure muscle.
I spend a good portion of my hour with him admiring his biceps and
backside. He has phenomenal glutes, perfectly round with a tight firmness
just begging to be spanked. My favorite part of his class is when he turns
around to write something on the blackboard. That’s when my mind begins
to wander and all those exhibitionist fantasies of cracking a whip over
Professor Hanson’s perfectly sculpted ass toy with my mind.
“I wasn’t talking about his height, Chelsea; I was talking about his penis
size. Men with inflated egos usually pack tiny peters. It’s a proven fact.
Look it up.”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass. If I look up anything, it’ll be Mr. Hanson’s shaft
when I deep throat the shit out of him.” Chelsea waggles her eyebrows at
me. She’s always been a little more forward in how she pursues men.
Chelsea has been with more men than a porn star in a gang bang video.
“That man is locked up like Fort Knox. Good luck getting into those
pants. He’s like a giant piece of ice sitting in a deep freezer. His personality
will never warm up. He will always stay a lonely piece of frigid asshole.
You’ll never be able to get him to do anything sexual with you. He has no
personality. He never smiles. He’s drier than the Sahara Desert. If you look
up milquetoast in the dictionary, you’d see his face. You’d have a better
chance of fucking Dean Willoughby than you ever would Mr. Hanson.”
Chelsea flips her sleek brown hair over her shoulder and grins
mischievously. “All it would take is one night with me, and that man would
be mine.”
“Good luck with that. While you’re busy trying to get him into bed, I’ll
be getting those test answers I desperately need to pass my midterm.”
“You never finished telling me how you plan on getting those answers.
It’s not like he’ll leave them out where you can find them.”
 “While he’s out getting his coffee and biscuit, I’ll be in his office
rummaging through his paperwork. I doubt he’ll have the test on him.”
Chelsea still looks skeptical. “How will you get into his office?”
I can’t contain my smile as I hold up a shiny set of keys. “I may have
sorta borrowed these from the janitor. See this key right here? This is the
key to his office. I’ll let myself in, grab the test answers, make a copy on his
copier, and study my butt off until I attend his class later in the afternoon. I
have at least thirty minutes to pull this off before he gets back from his
coffee break.”
“What if he catches you?” Chelsea questions me, taking a sip of her
coffee. “What if he comes back earlier than you expect?”
“He won’t.”
“But what if he does?”
“Chelsea, he won’t. Professor Hanson is a creature of habit. He does the
same thing every single day. I’ve spent this half of the semester studying
this man’s habits. He won’t catch me.”
“Okay, but I still think you're crazy. If he catches you and tells the Dean,
you’ll get expelled. You don’t want that, do you? What if you skim the
work and do your best to pass the test on your own?”
“I can’t afford a low grade. I need at least a B in this class to keep my
scholarship. Trust me, Chelsea. Mr. Hanson will never catch me.”
 Chase
I can’t believe I dreamed about HER again. It’s been a long time since
I’ve fantasized this hard about a woman.
Six months of celibacy can really do a number on your dreams. I’ve
woken up with a hard-on every morning, and I know it’s her fault.
That little bitch knows exactly what she’s doing to me; why else would
she dress the way she does in my classroom?
Yesterday, she wore a short floral dress that barely covered her thighs.
God, I love her thighs—milky white and muscular just waiting to be
wrapped around my face. I bet she tastes as sweet as she looks.
She wore that dress in my dream last night.
There she was, taunting me from across the classroom, staring at me
with those big green eyes as she nibbled on the end of her pencil. When she
caught me staring at her, she uncrossed her legs just enough to give me a
peek of those little white panties she always wears.
My dick ached, just like it always did when she was in my classroom.
The urge was so real. Like if I didn’t fuck her hard and soon, my dick was
going to explode.
I asked her to stay after class.
Like usual, she gave me attitude.
“Am I in trouble, Professor Hanson?” she asked, a look of innocence
toying with her eyes.
She was far from innocent. She knew exactly what she was doing to me.
“Naughty girls like you are always in trouble,” I told her, running my
hand over her arm, drinking in how soft her skin was and how I needed to
touch more of it.
“Professor Hanson, what are you doing?” she asked, gulping in the
sexiest way.
I ran my fingers through her dirty blonde locks, and whispered sexily in
her ear, “I’m going to place you on this desk, spread those enticing thighs,
and finally get a taste of that sweet pussy you keep teasing me with.”
I guided her over to my desk and pushed her against it. Her head tilted
back and my lips followed the contour of her neck until they were brushing
the skin of her chest. Her perky nipples budded, and I nipped at them over
the fabric of her dress.
“We could get caught,” she whimpered, as my hand traveled up her
thigh, and my thumb found the center of her mound.
I slowly began to rub her, enjoying how those little white panties started
to wet beneath my fingers.
“I bet you’re soaked down there. Your pussy is just begging for more.
You know that?”
I moved her panties to the side, so I had enough room to thrust my
finger deep inside of her while my thumb continued to circle her clit. The
movement made her buck against my hand, and I loved how into it she was.
“Oh god,” she screamed. “More.”
My hand moved even faster, and I watched in fascination as my favorite
student used my hand to get herself off.
She was about to come, I could feel it. But the only place I wanted her
to come was on my face.
I dropped to my knees. Placed two strong hands on her thighs and
pushed them apart to reveal my prize.
Her white panties couldn’t hide her excitement. A beautiful wet spot had
formed just above her clit, drenched in the juices I was desperate to taste.
When I removed them, I was pleasantly surprised to find a perfectly
bare pussy glistening, and waiting for me.
“I need you,” she breathed, as I trailed my kisses up her thighs.
“Tell me what a naughty student you’ve been. Tell me how you deserve
to be punished.”
“I’ve been so naughty,” she said breathlessly. “I need you to reprimand
me.”
“How?” I questioned, positioned just above her mound.
“Tongue,” she whispered. “I need you to taste me.”
A coy smile crossed my face as I bent in to give her what she was
begging for, and just as my tongue flattened against her clit, I woke the fuck
up.
Now I’m rocking a hard-on that I can’t get rid of, and I can’t erase any
images from that dream out of my brain. It has me so flustered that I went
straight to school instead of getting my usual cup of coffee and breakfast
biscuit.
 Now, not only am I horny, but I’m fucking hungry as hell. I’ve gotta do
something about this erection before my first class. If I don’t, my students
are going to be in for a pretty literal visual of what a right angle looks like
in accordance with the human anatomy.
“Mr. Hanson, how are you today?” Olivia, a colleague of mine, asks
when she sees me in the hallway. I watch her eyes migrate to my crotch,
widening when she sees the Battle of the Bulge I’m fighting in my jeans.
“Good,” my reply is gruff and a little short.
“Is everything, okay?” she briefly catches my gaze and licks her lips.
We had a one night stand over two years ago, and since then she’s been
all over my ass like a fly on a hotdog. She’s a sweet woman. Mature and
beautiful, but she’s a little too clingy for my taste. When a woman wakes up
immediately talking about plans for our future and all you did was have
sex, red flags go up.
I politely ended things with her, but she still pursues me every chance
she gets. If I was desperate, I’d be asking her to help relieve my frustrations
right now, but I know what road that leads to, and I need to keep my sex life
as far away from my work life as I can.
“Everything’s fine. Thanks for asking. I have a big midterm to prepare
for, so I better get going. Nice to see you again, Olivia.”
 
“If you ever need anything, Chase, and I mean anything. You know
where to find me.” She looks back down at my dick and flashes me a
knowing smile.
I know exactly what she wants, but I’m not giving it to her.
Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever again.
I quickly make my way to my office, because if one more person stops
me, I might just burst in my jeans.
I’m not the kind of person to rub one out in a public place, but my office
is private, and the chances of anyone catching me are slim to none.
So that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’m going to lock myself in my
office, whip my dick out, and beat myself off until this annoying hard on
goes away.
Damn you, Pressley Withers.
Damn you and all the fucking temptation that comes with you.
 
 Pressley
Not once did an angel pop up on my shoulder to tell me that this was a
bad idea. Where’s fucking Jiminy Cricket when you need someone to talk
you out of something you know is morally wrong? It isn’t until my hand is
on the doorknob and the key is turning that my stomach begins to twist and
knot in worry.
You’re being an idiot Pressley. Those are the only words playing in my
head as I step into Professor Hanson’s office and shut the door behind me.
There’s no going back now.
I quickly make my way over to his desk and begin rifling through the
stack of paperwork neatly stacked in the corner.
His office is just as I expect it to be: neat and tidy—a perfect reflection
of his uptight personality. He doesn’t have any of the traditional desk
ornaments that I’ve seen in the other professor’s offices. There aren’t any
photos of his girlfriend or portraits of his family members on his desk. Hell,
he doesn’t even have a stapler. All he has on his desk is a giant stack of
paperwork, a small green lamp, and a plain, gray rock he’s using as a
paperweight. In the corner of his office is a filing cabinet with a fake, dusty
fern plant sitting on top of it. To the left of that are his copier and computer.
The only thing remotely artistic in his office is a painting on the wall, but
it’s the same painting that I see in every professor’s office, a painted portrait
of Old Man Jenkins, the first Dean of PTU.
I look up at the painting and frown. “Don’t judge me, Jenkins, this is for
my future.”
It’s not like I expect Old Man Jenkins to respond, but I take his silence
as a sign to keep going through with my plan.
After rifling through every single paper on his desk, I stack them back
up and place them in the exact position I found them in. There’s no way I’m
leaving any evidence behind that I was here.
I pull open all the drawers in his filing cabinet, but the test answers
aren’t there either. I have one last place to look, and that’s inside the desk
itself. I really hope he doesn’t have the test on him. That would be
disappointing.  
 I drop on all fours and open the bottom drawer of his desk.
“Aha!” I squeal when I find the midterm answers sitting on top of a
stack of paperwork. I quickly grab them, turn on his copier, and run the test
through it.
“You’re a little cheater,” I scold myself. “You’re going to hell for this.”
The first paper gets stuck in the paper feeder, and I hear a sickening
crunching sound.
Oh shit! It had a staple in it. I realize.
I grab the paper and begin tugging on it, hoping that the stupid copy
machine doesn’t eat it.
“No. No. No.” I whisper when I see the first sheet rip in my hands.
I’m dead.
He’s going to kill me.
I’m going to get kicked out of school, and I’m never going to get my
Psychology degree.
Every possible negative thought runs through my head like a freight
train.
I’m practically in tears. The pit in my gut has dropped even further now
that I can see my future quickly disappearing before my eyes.
The rest of the paper rolls out of the machine—crinkled, ripped, and
barely salvageable.
“I’m an idiot,” I tell myself, as I grab a roll of scotch tape and begin
stitching back up the page. It’s not the best doctoring I’ve done to a piece of
paper, but it should be good enough to make two copies of the test so I can
get the answers and get the hell out of here.
Just as I’m about to place the paper back on top of the copier, I hear the
door of his classroom open and large footsteps heading my way.
“Holy fuck!” I whisper shout.
I’m like a deer in headlights. I know that at any second Professor
Hanson is going to walk here and catch me cheating.
How could I be this stupid?
Why did I think this was a good idea?
I only have one hope of surviving this situation, and that’s leaping under
his desk and hoping to God he doesn’t sit down. His desk is rather large,
and there should be enough space to hide underneath it without being seen.
 Just before he opens the door, I grab the test, dive under his desk, and
make sure to quietly close the drawer I left open so he doesn’t see it.
I hear him walk in, lock the door behind him, and stomp over to his
desk before throwing himself down in his chair.
SHIT!
I can’t see his face, but I can see his knees and the rather large bulge
growing in his jeans. Both are only inches away from my nose.
Does he really have a hard-on right now?
Hanson swears under his breath as he squirms uncomfortably in the
chair.
“I shouldn’t do this,” I hear him say.
What shouldn’t he do?
Why does he have a hard-on?
Slowly his hand appears between his legs, and I watch in utter
fascination as he cups himself and starts to rub his cock.
Holy shit! Professor Hanson is touching himself.
He grunts; his hands fiddling with his belt buckle.
I gasp when I realize what is about to happen. It’s quiet and barely
audible, but if he was paying attention he probably heard it
After a few seconds when he doesn’t react, I take a careful breath
making sure to not make any more noise.
He loosens his belt, and the button of his jeans pops loose just before his
thumb slowly takes down his zipper. The fabric of his boxer briefs appears
—black Calvin Klein’s, the sexiest underwear possible. His hand disappears
behind the denim, and I watch in both shock and awe as he slowly begins to
stroke himself.
“Mmmm,” he mumbles.
Please don’t whip it out. Please don’t whip it out.
I want to close my eyes. I should look away, but there’s no pretending
that my sexiest teacher isn’t jacking himself off two feet away from my
face.
His hand reappears, and he works his jeans down his hips, taking his
underwear with them. At first I can only see his V and a little tuft of hair,
but within seconds his whole length is out, and it’s impressive—thick and
long. Nothing like I imagined it would be.
 His massive hand circles his cock; slow, meticulous strokes follow as he
rubs every inch of his veined shaft. He must have a master’s degree in
masturbation because his technique is pure perfection. There isn’t an inch of
his cock that isn’t being pleasured, and the speed is just enough to drive him
home.
This is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve watched porn. I’ve seen
guys jack themselves off before, but watching Professor Hanson pleasure
himself does something to my pussy that I can’t explain. He hasn’t even
touched me and I’m wet, wondering what that cock would feel like
pounding inside of me.
He leans back, his head tipping lazily over the side of the chair, as he
increases the speed of his pumps.
“Oh, God,” he groans.
I’m in shock. I should say something so he’ll stop masturbating in front
of me, but I honestly don’t want him to stop. I want to watch Hanson get
off. I want to see him finally dislodge that stick from up his ass and unwind.
I can’t help feeling like a creeper watching him like this, but I also can’t
help fantasizing what it would be like to remove his hand and circle his
cock with my lips before taking him into the depths of my throat.
Beads of sweat drip down his face. His eyes pinched shut in ecstasy as
he beats himself even faster. His body jerks in the most seductive way with
every pass down his shaft. I can tell he’s getting close to finishing, because
now he’s moaning even louder, and his hand is moving so fast I can barely
keep up with it.
“Yes,” he shouts.
That’s it, Professor Hanson. Keep going.
My hand travels down my body until I’m lightly circling my clit over
my jeans. I can’t help myself. Seeing him get off is making me horny as
hell.
His body jerks wildly, pre-come forms on the tip of his dick, and just
when I expect his cock to erupt like an angry volcano, he shouts,
“Pressley,” with such force and ferocity it scares the ever-living shit out of
me.
Holy fuck, did Professor Hanson just say my name?
What happens next is like a train wreck.
THUD!
 My head slams into the wood above my head.
HONK!
Completely disoriented, my hand flies out in front of me grabbing onto
the first thing it can, which just happens to be a big ole’ fist of his
incredibly hard cock.
WOOSH!
Mr. Hanson pushes backward causing my whole body to fall forward.
OOMPH!
My face drops directly into his lap, just inches away from his still hard
shaft.
FUCK.MY.LIFE.
 
 Chase
This can’t be happening.
Someone is actually in this room with me right now and just saw me
jacking off like a horny teenager.
If the thud under my desk wasn’t enough to stop me mid-stroke, the
hand wrapping around my cock and the random head falling into my lap
was enough to scare my dick limp.
That limpness lasts about five whole seconds, because when I see her
innocent green eyes, widened in fright, staring up at me from between my
knees, my dick awakens like a zombie doing the Thriller dance.
Pressley fucking Withers.
I can’t believe the girl I was just fantasizing about saw me masturbating,
grabbed my genitals, and has her face mere inches away from the tip of my
dick.
“Professor Hanson, funny story . . .” she says, dropping her hand
quickly. I find it adorable how she’s nervously fumbling over her words.
She backs away, putting as much space as she can between her and my
penis.
“You’re probably wondering why I’m sitting under your desk right now.
Would you believe I saw a spider and was squishing it for you?” She gulps,
her eyes moving up my still, stone-hard dick, before meeting mine.
I probably should cover myself up, but her staring at my cock only
makes it harder. This scenario is beyond awkward, but it’s better than any
dream I’ve ever had about her.
“Miss Withers, do you want to tell me what you’re doing in my office
and why you are hiding underneath my desk?”
“I think the better question here, Professor Hanson, is why you were
just masturbating in your office thinking about me?” she challenges.
Her fiery attitude is one of the many things that drew me to her in the
first place. From the first day she entered my classroom, she’s always been
a raging spitfire. She tests me every chance she gets, and almost got me
fired after I graded her last test with an F. In my defense, it was the best
chance I had to get her to drop my class. Every day that she stays in my
class is one more day of temptation. Fortunately, I wasn’t fired, and the
dean backed me in my decision for grading her paper the way I did. The test
did say to show your work on all problems.
“I wouldn’t take it personally; it just slipped out,” I respond coldly.
She laughs, “Just like your cock that’s still sitting outside of your
pants?”
“You mean this?” I run my hand down my shaft slowly stroking it one
last time.
She looks scared as hell, and I’m trying to figure out why this isn’t
turning her on like it should. It isn’t until I see the answers to my midterm
sitting underneath her knees that I realize the severity of this situation.
I just caught my favorite student cheating.
She watches, the realization in my eyes, and shifts uncomfortably
“I can explain,” she stammers.
“Please do, because I’d love to hear how you plan on getting out of this
one.” I can’t help smirking. Her gaze moves from my dick to my face every
few seconds, almost like her eyes are screaming for me to put my cock
away. Seeing her reaction is priceless. It serves her right for trying to cheat
on my test.
“My roommate threw a party last night, and I didn’t get a chance to
study like I wanted to. So, I thought I’d . . .”
“You thought you’d steal the test answers and get a good grade by
cheating on the test.”
“Yes,” she reluctantly replies.
“Well, Miss Withers, it seems like we have a bit of a situation here. You
just caught me exposing myself in my office, and I just caught you trying to
cheat on your midterm. What are we going to do about this?”
“How about you let me off with a warning, and we never speak about
this again?” she offers with hope in her eyes.
“Ah, but Miss Withers, you’ve always been my naughtiest student, and
naughty students need the right kind of punishment,” I say seductively,
replaying the words from my dream last night.
If this goes the way I hope it does, I’m two seconds away from getting
what I’ve been dreaming about for the last two months.
“What are you insinuating?”
 She can play shy, dumb, and coy all she wants. But I can tell, just by
how she’s nibbling those plump lips of hers, she wants me just as much as I
want her.
“Shut up and come suck my cock.”
“Excuse me?” she screeches, her cheeks flushing a bright shade of pink.
“Oh, come on, we both know you’re attracted to me, and you know
damn well that I’m attracted to you. So, why don’t you do us both a favor
and wrap that sassy mouth of yours around my cock? I’m practically
combusting over here.”
I’m not sure if my brashness will work on her. Pressley is a strong-
willed woman, and maybe I’m reading her all wrong, but my cock is
hopeful and so am I.
“What happens if I do this? Are you going to tell the dean I was trying
to cheat?”
“If you suck my dick, I’ll consider us even. I’m risking my job even
asking for this, but I can’t be in that classroom with you one more day
without knowing what it’s like to be inside of you. You’re a tease Miss
Withers, a tease that needs to be taught a lesson.”
She crawls out from under my desk but doesn’t get off her knees.
That’s a good sign.
“I’m not the only one teasing people, Mr. Hanson. You know exactly
what you’re doing to me every time you wear these tight jeans.”
“Yes, I do. It’s the same thing those short flower dresses and little white
panties do to me every time you sit in my classroom with your legs
uncrossed. So, My Little Cheater, are you gonna show me if that sassy
mouth of yours does more than talk back, or are you going to continue
teasing me?”
“Professor Hanson, my mouth might be sassy, but you’d be shocked by
all the things it’s capable of doing.”
“Well, why don’t you come over here and show me what that mouth can
do?”
A wicked grin crosses her face as she crawls between my legs. “It’ll be
my pleasure, Professor Hanson.”
 Pressley
 
This is getting way too hot.
I’m two seconds away from putting my professor’s cock in my mouth,
and I’m not even thinking twice about it. Most people would be thinking
about running from his office, but not me. He had me the moment he called
me his naughtiest student.
He’s damn right I’m naughty.
I’m so naughty, that I’m about to give him the best blow job he’s ever
received.
I’ve been fantasizing about this moment since the first day I stepped
foot in his classroom.
There he was standing at the front of the room, running a nervous hand
through his dark auburn hair. He had it down that day, and I found it
fascinating that his hair was so long that it practically tickled the middle of
his back. The light blue collared shirt he wore was stretched so tight that
every muscle on his body was well-defined and visible. I wasn’t the only
woman in the room who noticed Professor Hanson’s striking appearance.
Twelve of my classmates couldn’t take their eyes off him either. Maybe it
was because the gray slacks he was wearing couldn’t hide the firmness of
his ass or the well-defined bulge behind his zipper. But once he turned
around, everyone could see just how blessed his body really was.
I sat near the front of the classroom, mesmerized by both his handsome
features and his gorgeous brown eyes, hidden behind a set of thick, sultry
lashes. As he scanned the room, he stroked his neatly trimmed beard. I’ve
never been a fan of men with beards and long hair, but Professor Hanson
was different. I was instantly attracted to him even though his facial hair
sorta made him look like an Ewok.
When his eyes fell on me, he smiled. It was a little quirk at the corner of
his mouth, but it was enough to make the butterflies in my stomach work
overtime.
Two weeks later he walked into class with most of his hair gone. I died a
little inside that day. I had just gotten used to his sexy man buns, and long
wavy locks, but instead of it hanging down the middle of his back, it was
now cropped just below his ears with the left side shaved and styled so the
rest of his hair could flip over his head like a wave.
Don’t get me wrong! He’s even sexier with his shorter hair and perfectly
trimmed beard, but I kinda miss his long hippie hair.
“What do you plan on doing, Miss Withers? Are you going to continue
sitting there staring at my cock all day, or are you going to do something
about this aching hard-on you gave me?”
Okay, Pressley. It’s time to either put up or shut up. I wish I could say I
am doing this to keep myself out of trouble, but the truth is I want Professor
Hanson. I want him bad.
I place myself between his knees, keeping eye contact with his intense
brown eyes, as I slowly dip down and trace my tongue across his salty tip.
He hisses. His hand shoots up and threads through my hair as I fit my
lips around him and ease him further into my mouth.
I start off slowly, allowing my tongue to taste every inch of him until his
dick is perpendicular with my tonsils. He should be thankful that I don’t
have a gag reflex because instead of releasing him quickly, I hold him there
for a few seconds and move the back of my throat so it suctions around his
cock.
“Holy fuck,” he moans.
He tugs my hair, pulling my head back so that he can look down at me
sternly.
“If you continue doing that I’m going to come before I get to enjoy you.
Go slow and work me up a bit before you start that kind of move.”
I smile mischievously, “Yes, sir.”
My tongue winds around his shaft, circling it as I suck on just the tip.
Every few seconds I deep throat him, and every time he shudders beneath
me.
As I suck, my right hand moves up and down his length, allowing my
free hand to massage and fondle his sack.
“This is even better than my dreams,” he moans.
“You dream about me?” I question, smiling around his cock.
“Fuck yes; every damn day.”
I look up at him seductively, stopping briefly to speak. “I’ve dreamt
about you, too. I dream about what this thick cock would feel like deep
inside my pussy. I bet it would feel damn good. I’ve also dreamt about you
throwing me down on this desk, my breasts pressed firmly against the cold
wood, your thick cock teasing and circling my entrance just before you
thrust into me hard from behind.”
His eyes flash with desire. “I wish I could help you live out that fantasy
because it sounds fucking amazing. Unfortunately, my next class is going to
start in about ten minutes, and this is all we have time for.”
“That’s too bad,” I tell him. “Guess I’m gonna have to work fast before
your well-behaved students get here.”
“They may be well-behaved, but my favorite student is right here,
pleasuring me with that naughty little mouth of hers.”
I pull his length back into my mouth, running my tongue seductively up
and down the sides as my mouth desperately tries to cover his entire girth.
As I increase my pace, his hands fight for control, tugging close to the roots
and maneuvering me so that I continue the speed he desires. He’s trying to
dominate me, but I’m too stubborn to let that happen.
“Keep going,” he pants, his body thrusting upward with each bob of my
head. He’s breathless, his words verging on desperation every time they
leave his mouth.
It’s pure euphoria knowing that I’m the cause of this pleasure he’s
feeling. He’s almost there. I can feel it as his cock stiffens between my lips.
He grunts loudly, a content moan following soon after. His body
trembles under my fingertips just before he jerks erratically and bursts in
my mouth. It shoots the back of my throat, and the only way to contain it is
to swallow it hard and fast.
“God, you are a naughty little thing,” he murmurs, watching me
attentively as I gulp down the last few drops. “It’s been a long time since a
woman has swallowed for me.”
Once he’s finished, I release him, pulling back so I can wipe my mouth.
“I aim to please,” I mumble, wondering why he’s suddenly staring at me
like a vulture sitting on a roost.
His eyes rake over my body and stop when they reach my boobs. He
lifts an approving eyebrow, his smile quirking ever so slightly like he
expects me to take my shirt off. It’s a little uncomfortable to be stared at
like you’re nothing more than a piece of meat, and I’m starting to feel dirty
the longer his gaze lingers.
 He continues staring at me without saying a word as he zips up his pants
he licks his lips.
This is getting really awkward.
The realization of what just transpired hits me harder than I expect it to.
My stomach turns, and I probably look as green as I feel right now. I’m ten
seconds away from a full-on panic attack.
Oh my god, I just sucked my teacher’s dick.
 “Are you okay?” he asks, the smile fading on his face when he realizes
how distraught I am.
“This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have let it go that far.” I’m practically
in tears as I jump to my feet, backing myself against his door.
His eyes arch with disagreement. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.
You were practically begging to taste my dick.”
“I’d hardly say I was begging.”
In stoic fashion, Professor Hanson stands, walking towards me with a
predatory look in his eyes.
He stops in front of me, boxing me against the door with both of his
muscular arms.
“You wanted me, admit it.”
“No,” I whisper.
His hand traces my cheek and slowly travels down my body until he’s
cupping my pussy with his hand.
“The heat down here says otherwise.”
His thumb presses firmly against my clit, giving the right amount of
pressure to send me closer to the edge.
I hold my breath, trying to will away every slutty thought running
through my brain. Even though I enjoyed every second of getting him off,
now I’m wondering if it was even worth it. If he hadn’t caught me cheating
would this even have happened?
“Are you going to tell the dean that you caught me cheating?”
“I told you that we’re even now.”
“Are you planning on failing me?” I’m practically trembling as his
thumb works me even harder.
“That depends on you, Pressley. Your future depends on what you say
next.”
 It’s the first time he’s ever called me by my first name, and I have to
admit, it turns me on.
“What do you want from me?” I stammer fighting the lingering orgasm
he’s slowly working out of me.
“I want one night together—no limitations, no rules. I take you to
dinner, we come back to my place, and you give me what I desire.”
“What do you desire?” I whisper breathlessly.
“You, Pressley, I want you.” He grabs my hand and places it over his
cock. “See what you’re doing to me? It was never like this before you
waltzed into my life.”
He’s solid like the mast of a ship. I’m surprised his jeans aren’t making
him uncomfortable, he’s that hard.
“Do you agree?”
I feel like I’m teetering between two horrible decisions. If I say no, he
could make my life a living hell and possibly get me kicked out of school.
If I agree and someone finds out about us, he could lose his job, and I’d still
suffer the same fate.
“Professor Hanson, I don’t know about this.”
“You can call me Chase.”
His name is Chase? Damn, that’s a sexy name.
“Do you agree?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you agree?” he grunts in frustration. My indecisiveness causes his
thumb to press even harder against my clit; it’s just enough to send me over
the edge.
“Yes,” I shout, as my body quakes in ecstasy.
A coy smile plays with his lips, “Good girl. You can meet me in the
faculty parking lot around eight. Make sure no one sees you.”
Before I can say another word, Chase has the door open, and he’s
pushing me outside.
“Go, before someone catches us together.”
The door closes between us and reality rushes me like a sumo wrestler.
What the fuck did I just agree to?
I turn to do my walk of a shame when I hear his door creak open behind
me. “Oh, and Pressley; make sure you wear white panties again. They’re
my favorite.”
 The door slams and I’m left standing in his classroom with a guilty
conscience, a wet pussy, and a date with my least favorite teacher.
I think my foolproof plan just backfired.
 Chase
It took two whole seconds for the guilt to sink in after she left. I can’t
believe I just asked a student to suck my cock in my office. I’ve never been
that unprofessional, and yet I used my power to take advantage of her and
the situation.
I should’ve just reported her to Ron and been done with it, but when
those large doe eyes looked up at me from under my desk, pleading for me
to give her a second chance, all I could think about was what those eyes
would look like staring up at me while her lips were tightly wrapped around
my cock.
They looked good—damn good.
I’ve been obsessed with Pressley Withers since the first day she entered
my class. Freshman Geometry has always had a fresh crop of young,
beautiful, impressionable females just ripe for the picking. But I’ve never
once thought about going past that teacher/student relationship until she
waltzed through my door that first day.
She flounced in like she owned the place. Her dirty blonde hair curled
in loose tendrils swayed behind her with every shake of her curvy hips. I
couldn’t take my eyes off of her no matter how hard I tried.
It was her lipstick that caught my eye first, red like an angry rose, a
perfect match to her shirt that dipped over her right shoulder, exposing the
sexiest collar bone I’ve ever seen on a woman. As I began speaking her sea
foam eyes fixated on me, taunting me from beneath an army of long lashes
and thick mascara. I’m not the kind of guy that obsesses over a woman who
wears a lot of makeup, but hers was pristine and not overly done like most
of the girls who walk into my classroom. When she accidentally uncrossed
her legs and flashed me a peek of her little white undies hiding under her
red and black floral skirt, I knew right then that I was done for.
That’s why I’m such an asshole to her and had to push her away. It’s
why I tried to get her to drop my class. It’s complete torture having her sit
in front of me when I know I can’t have her. Now I’ve crossed that line I
didn’t want to cross, and my thoughts can’t keep up with how fast my heart
is beating.
 I spend ten minutes rifling through my paperwork before realizing that
Pressley has not only fucked up my head but my midterm as well. The last
few pages are ripped or crinkled, and the answer sheet is barely readable.
I had planned on copying the test the minute I arrived at work this
morning, but that plan got fucked up when I caught Pressley cheating. Now
the test is ruined, and in order to be fair, I’m going to have to redo the
whole entire thing.
Fuck.
As my first class ambles in, I quickly realize that I’m not in the right
frame of mind to teach, let alone hand out a midterm.
For five whole minutes, I pace back and forth in my office, wondering
what to do next. I can see my students waiting for me. Each of them stares
at my door with a look of dread in their eyes. Not a single person out there
wants to take my midterm, and frankly, I’m too messed up in the head to
give it to them.
“Fuck it,” I grumble, throwing open my door.
“Class is canceled today. Midterm is being postponed until next week. I
highly suggest that everyone in this class studies their asses off until then.
This test will count for sixty-five percent of your grade. If you fail it, you
fail my class.”
Each student stares at me slack jaw and barely blinking. I’m pretty sure
I just threw an atomic bomb in their midterm schedules. For those who have
studied, they’re probably cursing me right now. For those who didn’t, I’ve
probably reached God-like status on their teacher scale. I’m not the kind of
teacher who postpones a midterm. I’m not the kind of teacher who asks a
student to give him a blow job either, but that just happened ten minutes
ago with Pressley. The fact that I can’t stop thinking about how good her
mouth felt around my cock only solidifies my decision to postpone until
next week.
“Um, Professor Hanson, are you punking us?” Hamilton Rivers asks
from his seat in the back. “Is Kutcher going to jump out and tell us we’ve
all just been Punk’d?”
“Mr. Rivers, do you wish to take your midterm today?”
“Fuck no,” he says, before realizing he just swore in front of me. “I
mean, no sir,” he quickly backtracks when he sees my annoyance.
 “Then I suggest you get your ass out of my classroom and take
advantage of the extra week I’m giving you to study. That goes for the rest
of you, too. Get out of here before I change my mind.”
The frenzy is hilarious! Students scramble to get out of their chairs like
lions hunting in a flock of gazelles. It doesn’t take them long to exit the
room and the moment the last student is through the door, I lock it.
“Fuck,” I growl. “Why can’t I stop thinking about her?”
It’s like I’m being haunted by her lips. I can still feel them circling my
dick—warm, inviting. I can’t strike the image from my mind. Now that I’ve
had her, I want more—so much more.
I grab a permanent marker and scribble down a generic message about
all my classes being canceled for the day and my midterm being scheduled
for next week.
I grab my wallet and keys, tape the note to my front door, and run my
ass to the front office so I can tell them I’ll be out the rest of the day for an
emergency.
This is so unlike me. I’ve never missed a day of work in my life, and
now because of one blow job, I’m ready to risk my job and throw caution to
the wind just to get a piece of forbidden ass.
If this is what happens to you when you don’t get your morning
breakfast and coffee, then I’m definitely never going to skip my normal
breakfast routine ever again.
I don’t think my heart, my head, or my dick can handle another day like
this.
 
 Pressley
 
My heart is still pounding when I get back to my apartment. I have to
tell someone about what I just did or the guilt is going to eat me alive.
Chelsea is sitting on the couch looking through a magazine and barely
notices me until I slam the front door.
“I gave him a blow job,” I announce.
My proclamation is enough to get her attention because she drops the
magazine on her lap.
“You gave who a blow job?”
“Chase. I mean, Professor Hanson.”
There are no words to describe Chelsea’s reaction right now. A myriad
of expressions plays across her face like a movie on fast forward.
“You’re shitting me.”
“I shit you not. I . . . sucked . . . his . . . dick.” I’m practically shouting
each word to the rooftops.
“How? Why? When?”
“He came back early to his office. I was going to try to escape, but I
trapped myself underneath his desk and next thing I know he’s sitting in
front of me, zipper down, dick out, masturbating like he’s slinging a
sledgehammer. And you were right, Chelsea, he is packing a massive sized
cock—it was the size of a bazooka or machine gun at least.”
Chelsea’s mouth drops. “He masturbated, and you watched?”
“I did. I watched and enjoyed every second of it, up until he whispered
my name while coming. Then like an idiot, I blew my cover by banging my
head on the top of his desk.”
“Oh my god,” she giggles. “This shit only happens to you.”
“Right? It’s like a curse! Anyway, next thing I know he’s talking dirty to
me, and I’m blowing his cock like the Big Bad Wolf. Fuck, I even
swallowed.”
“So, let me get this straight. He catches you cheating and the first thing
that pops into your head to keep you out of trouble is to swallow his baby
juices? Girl, you’ve lost your damn mind.”
 “I have. It was a mistake, and now I’m afraid if I don’t do what he
wants, he’ll tell the dean that he caught me cheating.”
“Damn Pressley, it looks like you got yourself between a cock and a
hard place. What exactly does he want you to do?”
“Meet him tonight. Basically to finish what we started.”
“Well, you can’t go,” Chelsea informs me. “As your best friend and
roommate, I’m advising you to stay home. He can get in trouble if word
gets out that he propositioned you for sex. He’s the authority figure and
you’re the student. He can lose his job over this.”
“I know.”
“So, do yourselves both a favor and don’t go. His job and your
academics are not worth the risk.”
She has a point. I know what she’s saying is true, but I also know that
my pussy is thirsting for a piece of his cock, and I don’t want to spend the
next two months wondering what that cock would’ve felt like inside me.
“Okay, I won’t go.”
“Pinky promise?” She sticks out her pinky finger and wiggles it, forcing
me to take it and agree to her outlandish request.
“I promise I won’t go out tonight with Professor Hanson. I pinky
swear.” With linked pinkies we shake, throwing a wrench in any plans I
may have had to meet up with Chase tonight. Though, I left it open for
future plans.
“Hey, I have an idea. My cousin Felix is in town tonight. You know that
hot guitarist I’ve been telling you about? Why don’t I set you guys up on a
little date? That way you won’t even think about Mr. Hanson.”
“Sounds good, God knows I need a distraction tonight.”
“Awesome. I’ll get Felix on the phone. You guys can meet up later,
okay?”
I give her a quick hug. “Thank you, Chelsea. I swear I don’t know what
I would do without you.”
She grins, “Bang hot teachers and your head on his desk.”
“Fuck you.”
“Nah, you’re not my type, but you just might be my cousin’s.” She
winks at me before going back to reading her magazine.
I really hope Felix is man enough to make me forget about Chase
because right now I can’t get that sexy professor out of my mind.
 Chelsea’s lucky that I love her because if I didn’t, I’d be going out with
Chase tonight and not her hot cousin.
Chase is everything I’ve ever wanted in a man, wrapped up in one
muscular package, and it’s taking every ounce of willpower I have not to
meet up with him tonight.
 

 
Felix is already thirty minutes late picking me up for our date. Once the
clock strikes eight, I’m leaving. The longer I wait, the closer I am to telling
both Chelsea and her cousin to fuck off. The more I wait, the more anxious
I become. My mind keeps wandering back to Professor Hanson and how
I’m standing him up right now. Chase would never keep me waiting like
this. He’s too punctual and uptight to keep a lady waiting.  
“He’s coming, I swear,” Chelsea informs me when she sees me eyeing
the clock on the wall for the eleventh time.
“This is ridiculous. I should just go and meet Mr. Hanson and be done
with this.” I make an aggressive step towards the front door, but Chelsea
jumps in my way throwing her hands out so I can’t pass her.
“No, you shouldn’t. You’re gonna sit right there and let Felix come get
you. He’s a rock star; they have weird schedules.”
“Weird schedule or not, he’s thirty minutes late and I think it’s rather
rude to keep someone waiting like this.”
Chelsea nods her head in agreement. “Don’t hold it against him, okay? I
swear you’re going to love Felix.”
A few seconds later someone knocks on the door.
“That’s him,” she squeals. “You two are gonna hit it off. I just know it.”
Chelsea runs to the door and throws it open. “Lix!” she screams,
throwing her arms around the handsome stranger. “I’ve missed you.”
“Hey, Chelsea Belsey, I’ve missed you, too.”
I do my best to not look too obvious as I check him out, but I must say
Chelsea did well this time. I was reluctant about her fixing me up with her
cousin. Felix is a lot hotter than she told me he would be.
Six feet two and dressed in all black, Felix stands in our apartment
doorway with a fierce edge that instantly attracts me. He’s not as muscular
as Chase, but he’s lean and cut in all the right places. The black Rolling
Stones t-shirt he’s wearing is one size too small and reveals just a hint of the
perfectly sculpted six-pack underneath. Disheveled and wild, his dark hair
just screams to be played with, and I can’t help hoping that I’ll be able to do
just that tonight. I’ve always been attracted to the bad boys, and with his
tanned skin covered in tattoos and piercings, I know Felix is probably a real
naughty boy.
Her handsome cousin strides into our apartment like he’s been here a
million times. He looks around before his piercing gray eyes settle on me.
Instantly, I’m enamored with his sharp features, strong chiseled jaw, and the
way his dark brows really make his gray eyes pop.
“You must be Preston,” he greets, taking a step toward me.
“Pressley,” I correct him.
“Right, my mistake, Chelsea told me you were doable, but she didn’t
tell me you were fucking hot. Thanks, cousin, she’s definitely worth the
drive out here.”
I’m not sure whether to blush or be offended, but I find myself blushing
anyway when his eyes rake seductively over my body.
I’m wearing my best outfit tonight, a tight black mini skirt paired with
my most expensive white, see-through blouse. Underneath the blouse, I’m
only wearing a black and white polka dot bra. Since I’m going out with a
rock star, I decided that I should dress a little more provocatively. God
knows where he might take me tonight.
“You ready to go?”
“Yup, let me grab my coat.” I snag my black leather jacket from off the
back of a chair and tell Chelsea not to wait up for me as we walk out the
door.
I follow him out to the parking lot. I’ve learned a lot in the last two
years that I’ve been sexually active, but one thing I know for sure is that
you can tell a lot about a man by what vehicle he drives. The manlier the
car, the more libido he has in the bedroom. It’s a proven fact.
I’m hoping Felix drives something dangerous, like a motorcycle or a
muscle car. I want a man that can drive me like a sports car, and pound me
like a gas pedal. By the looks of him, Felix is just the man for the job.
My heart races as he leads me towards a sexy, Nightmist Blue ‘67 Ford
Mustang convertible—my dream car.
 He drives a muscle car! Just the thought of him handling me like this
hefty piece of machinery has me already wet between the legs. I swear if
sex had wheels it would look exactly like this car right here.
“Damn that’s a sexy vehicle,” I swoon running my hand over the
pristine paint job. “How long have you had her?”
“It is pretty sexy, but that’s not my car.” He walks past the Mustang and
straight to the orange Prius parked next to it. “This here is my baby.”
“You drive a Prius?” It takes everything I have not to laugh at him. He’s
dressed in leather, covered in tats, pierced on the lip, ear, and eyebrow, and
the dude drives a fucking Prius.
What a pansy.
“Yes, it’s important to protect the environment, and Lucas here gets the
job done.”
“You named your car Lucas? Why?”
“What’s manlier than a Lucas?” he asks laughing.
Oh, I don’t know. How about that Mustang parked next to us? I bet that
bitch has a tough ass name like Lolita or Roxanne. Real men name their
cars after women, not dweebs that hide behind computers.
My brain wants to tell him exactly how I feel about his lame Prius, but I
smile politely, and just nod in agreement.
“So, where are we going?”
“There’s a silent movie playing over at the Cineplex that I’ve been
dying to see. You like silent movies right?”
I stare down at my see-through top and regret making this fashion
choice. I was expecting him to take me to a club or maybe a fancy dinner;
not some silent movie at a shit-ass theater. The Cineplex is on the other side
of town, and hardly anybody goes there. How lame.
“Sure, sounds fun . . .” I wish he could hear the sarcasm in my voice,
but Felix acts as if he’s oblivious to the world. How can someone so hot,
play the guitar and drive a Prius? He needs a major wake up call.
Twenty minutes of lousy conversation and awkward long pauses later,
Felix and I arrive at the theater.
“Two for Blank Stare, please,” Felix informs the attendant.
The attendant rolls her eyes as she hands him our tickets. Felix must be
diving deep into his pocketbook to flit this bill because between both tickets
he only had to pay five dollars.
 “Um, do you think you can get the popcorn and drinks? I’m a little
short.”
Is this guy for real? Did he really just ask me to get the most expensive
part of the date?
 “Seriously?” I ask, getting more annoyed by the second.
“Yeah, being on the road you have to eat out a lot. I spent most of my
cash this week buying food for myself. Please? I’d really appreciate it.”
“Fine,” I reluctantly reply. “What do you want?”
Felix orders himself a large drink and a large popcorn, four bags of
candy, a pretzel, and a hot dog. Then has the audacity to turn to me and ask
what I want. Fifty dollars later, I’m beyond fed up with Felix and his cheap
ass persona.
“You’re going to love this movie, Preston. It’s supposed to be amazing.”
“Pressley,” I mumble under my breath. “My name is fucking Pressley.”
“Right, Pressley. Sorry, I have a bad habit of forgetting names fast.
Thanks for the grub; this should keep me satisfied until dinner.”
If he thinks I’m going to buy him dinner, too, he’s an idiot. The minute
this movie is over, he’s taking me home.
As the theater gets dark, Felix puts a lazy arm around my shoulders.
“I like that I can see your bra. You got some nice titties even if they’re
smaller than I like.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your breasts leave something to be desired. They’re small. You should
really think about getting a boob job. Guys like tits that are too big to hold
on to. Not these tiny mosquito bites.” He flicks my right breast causing me
to gasp.
“I’m a C cup, asshole.”
“That’s being a little generous, don’t you think?” His eyes drift down to
my breasts before they’re rolling around in his head. “Yeah, you can’t be
more than a B cup.”
I stand up, ready to give him a piece of my mind, but then I realize he’s
my ride home. “I need to go to the bathroom.”
“But the movie is starting,” he whines.
I stare up at the screen where a woman silently pleads for a man to kiss
her. The subtitles on the bottom say her name is Tina and his name is
Malcolm. This movie sucks.
 I can’t mask my irritation any longer. If I don’t go to the bathroom now,
I might smack his lame, mooching face. “Let me know what I miss.”
Felix waves a frustrated hand before going back to his movie snacks.
What a jerk!
It takes me two seconds to get out of the theater and into the lobby. It’s
deserted, much like the movie theater itself. I spend a good fifteen minutes
in the bathroom freshening up. Felix probably doesn’t even realize that I’m
gone. He’s too busy stuffing his face with my hard earned money.
I didn’t work an entire summer as a lifeguard and library assistant to
spend my hard-earned dollars on a douche that drives a Prius.
“Okay, Pressley, all you have to do is get through this date, and then you
can go home.” I do one final touch up to my lip gloss before taking a much
needed deep breath. “You can do this,” I inform my reflection, who’s in
much need of a pep talk. “It’s only a few more hours.”
The moment I exit the bathroom I feel a strong hand grab my wrist, and
soon after another hand covers my mouth. Instinctively, I throw my head
back attempting to headbutt my attacker before kicking their shin. Their
sheer strength is enough to subdue my best efforts to get away, and whoever
it is, manhandles me away from the bathroom and pulls me into a theater
not too far from where I was grabbed.  
There’s an action movie playing on the screen, and it’s so loud that
nobody can hear my screams when my assailant’s hand uncovers my
mouth. Not that anyone would hear me anyway. We’re alone.
“You stood me up,” a familiar voice whispers in my ear, “for that
idiot?”
The tension in my shoulder releases the second I realize who the bastard
is that grabbed me.
Chase fucking Hanson.
I swirl around, brow arched in fury, ready to read him the riot act for
scaring the crap out of me like he did. I hope he has a notepad and a pen
handy because this girl is going to unleash a slew of profanity that’s going
to make his ears bleed and his dick shrivel up like a shrimp.
 Chase
After the day I’ve had, Pressley standing me up is the poison icing on
this fucked up cake I’ve been baking. I spent a good thirty minutes waiting
for her to show before I finally decided it was time to leave.
Not that I blame her. I practically blackmailed her just to get her to see
me again. I was out of line, and she had every right to stand me up the way
she did.
I kept telling myself that the whole drive home and actually had myself
believing it until I saw her entering the movie theater with some poindexter
with Kindergarten tattoos driving a stupid, orange Prius.
I pulled my bike over so fast; I almost got my ass killed for it. It’s one
thing for her to stand me up because of her morals, but to stand me up so
she can go on a date with someone else? Well, that’s some fucked up shit
right there.
I wasn’t sure exactly how I was going to approach her, so I stayed back,
watching silently as that asshole made her pay for all of his food while she
didn’t get herself a single thing. A real man pays for everything, including
his own food and drink.
Watching them enter the theater together only made me more enraged.
That asshole was treating her like shit, and she was taking it. She could’ve
been spending her night with me instead. I had plans for us tonight, and she
apparently didn’t care.
That’s why I grabbed her when she came out of the bathroom and
dragged her into this dark theater, but now that she’s looking at me like I’m
her enemy, I’m starting to rethink my plan of attack.
“What the fuck are you doing here? Are you fucking stalking me or
some shit?”
I shrug, “You stood me up.”
“So, you decide to stalk me?” Her brow furrows the more her temper
flares. Every time the movie screen brightens, I see the fury flash in her
green eyes. It makes my dick ache.
“I just happened to be driving home and saw you and your douche bag
getting out of his crappy Prius. What kind of men are you dating?”
 Pressley’s lips purse in disgust. “I date men who don’t take advantage of
their much younger students.”
“I’m twenty-nine, baby. Ten years your senior. If you were smart, you’d
pay a little respect to your elder instead of talking back.” My brown eyes
dance with excitement. Fighting with Pressley ignites me like a wildfire.
Hungry and consumed with lust, I take her wrist and pull her against me.
“You can fight this if you want, Pressley, but I’m not leaving until I get
a taste of that sweet pussy.”
I cover her mouth with my lips the second she begins to protest.
“You know that you’re dying to find out what it’s like to have my mouth
between your milky-white thighs, my tongue punishing that sweet snatch
you have hidden under this hideous skirt.”
“My skirt is not hideous,” she moans, as my tongue slowly traces her
earlobe, fighting to taste every inch of her skin on the way down to her
perky nipples.
My fingers quickly undo each button of her shirt until nothing but her
bra and mounded breasts are left.
“Why would you wear this for him?” I mumble, gripping her nipple
between my teeth through the pad of her cup.
“I don’t know.”
My hand massages her breast for a few seconds before I completely
unhook her bra.
“We’re in public,” she hisses when the cold air hits her now exposed
breast. I gently nip at her peak, before pulling the nipple into my mouth, so
I can tease it with my tongue.
With each movement, my dick gets harder.
God, what is this woman doing to me?
My hand brushes her kneecaps, forcing her legs apart so that my fingers
can wind their way up her thighs to her hungry pussy.
“So wet,” I murmur as my knuckle gently massages her mound and the
damp fabric of her panties. “Tell me how you want me to touch you. Tell
me how hungry this pretty pussy is.”
“So hungry,” she assures.
“Beg me to touch your pussy, Pressley. Tell Professor Hanson how deep
you want his digits.”
“So deep,” she hisses as my knuckle brushes her center again.
 “Beg me, Pressley. I want to hear how deep you want my fingers inside
of you. You’re going to ride my hand right here in this theater. I don’t care
who walks in and catches us.”
We’re alone in a dark corner of the theater, hidden by shadows and the
dimmed lights. Unless someone is specifically looking for us, it would be
hard to notice that we’re even here.
“Please,” she begs, making my dick even harder.
My mouth caresses hers, teasing her with an almost kiss as I torture the
outer walls of her folds with the tips of my fingers. I pull her underwear to
the side and gently slide one finger into her channel until my knuckle
disappears.
She thrusts into me, causing my finger to penetrate her deeper.
“That’s it, fuck my finger, Pressley. Get it all nice and wet so I can taste
your sweet snatch.”
“That’s such a nasty word,” she breathes, “but so hot, too.”
I slide a second finger inside of her and slowly pump them in and out of
her. She seems to like that, her head tipping back so I can taste her neck.
“You like it when I talk dirty to you, don’t you?”
I gently nip at the flesh above her collarbone and suck the skin into my
mouth while moving my fingers at a more strenuous pace.
“Yes,” she exhales arching her back, causing my fingers to practically
disappear.
“Beg me. Tell me what you want me to do to you, Pressley.”
“Fuck me,” she pleads. “Taste me, so I can feel your tongue in my
pussy. I need it.”
I pull my fingers out of her slit and immediately stick them in my mouth
so I can taste her.
“Mmm, sweet like a tasty peach.”
“Please, don’t stop. I need you, Chase.”
Hearing her say my name only fuels my desire more.
I drop to my knees and stare up at her with a lust that I didn’t know
existed. She’s barely legal, and being with her like this could cause me a lot
of trouble, but I’m not about to turn around now.
I need her.
I want her.
I fucking crave her.
 My hands crawl up her thighs until my fingers curl around the
waistband of her panties. I peel them down her legs until they’re discarded
to the floor. Retracing her legs, I run my rough palm across her skin until I
meet the fabric of her skirt. I roll the fabric over her hips until all I can see
are the lips of her pussy and the hills of her perfectly round ass. She’s
practically naked now, and like an asshole, I don’t care. I know this theater
well. Nobody comes here anymore, and the employees could care less what
we’re doing as long as we don’t burn the place to the ground.
“God, it’s even prettier than I thought it would be,” I compliment.
I throw each of her legs over my shoulders and press her firmly against
the corner of the wall so she won’t fall.
I dive in hungry like a starving coyote ready to consume every ounce of
the come spilling out of her.
My tongue is the first thing to touch her clit, followed quickly by two of
my fingers. As I lap and flick her switch, my fingers drive deep inside of
her, slow at first but the speed increases the louder her moans get.
“Oh, Chase, don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop.”
Profanity never sounded as good as it does coming from her lips.
Hearing her moans, vulgar language, and my name rumble from her mouth,
only makes me work harder to get her off.
With each movement, she thrusts her pelvis up, willing my fingers to
bury themselves inside of her.
I know I should stop, but hearing her moan only makes me want her to
come even more.
It doesn’t take long before she’s curling her hands into my hair and
ramming her pussy into my face.
“I’m coming,” she wails when she feels me bite her nub and hook my
finger into her G-Spot. Like magic, her pussy slickens with the sweetest
come; my tongue laps it up like I’m dying of thirst.
She shimmies and shakes through a round of crippling orgasms before I
gently place both of her wobbly legs back on the ground. Steadying her, I
hold her in place as the haze of her orgasms overtake her body. She sways,
collapsing into my arms the moment I’m standing upright again.
“Jesus, fuck,” she swears when I bend in to kiss her. “You’re like
Houdini or some shit.”
 I laugh into her lips, running my tongue inside her mouth so she can
taste her own juices.
She enjoys that as well, slightly smiling while she traces her bottom lip
with her tongue.
“There’s more coming soon, Pressley. I told you to give me one night,
and I’m determined to hold you to that.”
“What about my date?” she questions, as I redress her clothes.
“Fuck him. From now on, you’re mine.”
The words are so possessive, but I know that if any other man touches
Pressley Withers, I’ll kill him. That thought alone scares the crap out of me.
“Let’s go,” I instruct her, the moment she’s dressed again.
“Okay,” she replies weakly, still clumsy and stumbling like a foal.
I wrap a possessive arm around her shoulders and lead her from the
theater.
Outside, her douche of a date is waiting. His eyes narrow when he sees
her in my arms.
“What the fuck?” he shouts, stomping towards us. “I paid five fucking
dollars to take you to a movie, and this is how you fucking repay me?”
Pressley steps out of my grasp and glares at him. “I’m pretty sure the
fifty dollars I paid to feed you tonight, trumps your piss-ant five dollars. Go
fuck yourself.”
“To hell with you; who would want someone with that small of titties
anyway?”
“Me,” I boom, stepping in between them. “She’s fucking mine.”
I crowd into his personal space making sure my chest pushes him
backward. For a second, he tries to square up to me, but the moment he
realizes I’d fuck him up if he tried; he cowers like a fucking bitch.
“Talk to her that way again, and you’ll wish you were never born.”
The loser throws up his hands and backs away. “You can have that little
cock tease. She’s not worth the money my cousin paid me to take her out.”
He grabs his wallet and pulls out a hundred-dollar bill. “I knew you weren’t
worth more than five dollars, so I kept the money for myself.”
Pressley looks like she’s about to gouge out his eyeballs, forcing me to
intervene.
With the reflexes of a cheetah, I filcher the bill from his hands and hand
it over to Pressley. “Cheap dicks like you don’t deserve someone like her.”
 “Hey, asshole, that’s mine.”
“Consider it payback for the food you made her buy you. The rest is
interest for all the minutes of her time you wasted tonight. Now get the hell
out of here before I fuck you up, you cheap ass punk.”
He flips me off.
I step forward with my fists ready to pummel him. As I move, the dude
scrambles backward, knocking into a cardboard cutout of Chuck Norris
near the wall.
“And just so you know, I think your Prius is gay,” Pressley shouts.
“There’s nothing manly about your Prius or the gay name you gave it. I
hope you and Lucas have a happy life together.”
The employees behind the counter laugh hysterically as Pressley’s loser
date makes his speedy exit.
Good riddance. That guy was a fucking tool.
“Shall we go?” I ask, offering her my arm.
“I thought you’d never ask,” she grins taking it willingly.
I lead her outside; her loser date has already gotten in his Prius and left,
which I prefer. Now, it’s just Pressley and me.
“Do you want to eat first?” I ask her as we near my bike.
She shakes her head, “No, I’m not that hungry, to be honest.”
I can see the hesitation in her eyes. She’s not sure if we should be doing
this. It’s risky. It’s dangerous. We both could lose everything if the wrong
people found out about us.
I get it. I really do. But I also know that if I don’t have more of her, I’ll
never be able to focus on teaching my classes again. Pressley has somehow
taken over every thought in my brain, and if I don’t find out what it’s like to
be inside of her soon, I may just implode.
“Are you okay with this?” I question, handing her my spare helmet.
Her eyes widen. “You drive a motorcycle?”
“Yes.”
She nibbles on the corner of her mouth. I see her legs slightly cross as
she eyes my bike.
“We left my underwear in the theater.”
Shit. We did.
The thought of her wet folds gripping my seat only makes me hornier.
My dick throbs in my pants. Damn, what is she doing to me?
   “Is that a problem? It wouldn’t be the first time a girl has ridden
bareback on my crotch rocket.” The confidence in my voice is
overwhelming. Inside, I’m a nervous wreck. If she says no, and it somehow
gets back to the dean about everything we’ve done so far, I could lose my
job.
She wrinkles her nose, “You sure know how to make a girl feel special,
Mr. Hanson.” Her bottom lip trembles, making me realize just how piggish
I sound.
I tip her chin so she can look me in the eyes. “Hey now, you are very
special to me. I didn’t mean it like that. I haven’t been with a woman in
over six months. I bought this bike a few weeks ago from a guy that used to
ride with a biker club. There’s no telling what happened on the back of this
bike while it was in his possession. I didn’t mean it to sound like I actually
had girls riding on it with me. To be honest, you’re my first.”
This seems to perk up her mood. A shy smile passes between her lips as
she gently takes the helmet from my hand and places it over her head.
Flipping the visor of the helmet up, she deviously says, “I’m ready for my
punishment, Mr. Hanson. I think it’s time you teach your little cheater a
lesson.”
Yeah, those words hit my dick like a thunderbolt. It springs to life in my
pants, hardening like Medusa just turned it to stone.
If this is any indication of what’s in store for us the rest of the night,
then I can’t wait to get her home and give my dick what it’s been craving
for the last two-and-a-half months—her.

 
 Pressley
Chase stares at me intently as I straddle his bike. This is the wrong skirt
to ride a motorcycle. Not only is it like a vice on my thighs, but I have to
hike it up until the fabric barely covers my ass just so I can throw my leg
over the side of it. Anybody driving by is about to get one hell of a show,
but my inhibitions went out the door the moment I allowed Chase to tongue
fuck me in that theater.
The cool leather feels oddly satisfying between the slick lips of my
already wet pussy. I know this is wrong, but the need for Chase Hanson
ricochets through my body like a stray bullet. Domineering and strong,
these are only a few of the reasons why I’m so obsessed with my teacher.
He climbs on the bike, grabs both of my hands and wraps them firmly
around his waist.
“Hold tight, baby. I ride this bike hard and fast, just like my dick’s
gonna ride that snug little muff tonight.
As the bike roars to a start, it rumbles between my legs and vibrates my
clit like a rolling tongue.
“Fuck,” I shout.
“I bet that vibration has your pussy purring like a mountain lion. Let it
go, Pressley. Let the metal work that vag until you’re coming all over my
leather seats.”
Chase’s dirty words make the crippling feeling even more fierce. He
revs the bike’s throttle, and a blistering wave of pleasure circles my vagina
when he revs again. The sensation is so powerful that tears form in my
eyes. We haven’t left the parking lot, and I’m already on the brink of a
mind-blowing orgasm. This is intense. Chase pulls the bike on the road, and
as the wind whips through my hair, the vibrations murmur between my legs
sending shock waves of pleasure straight to my core.
“Oh God, yes,” I scream.
“That’s it, Pressley. Let the bike do the work,” he shouts behind him.
Each time we hit a bump or he takes a turn too sharply, my heart speeds
up—the blissful euphoria consuming me.
 My body feels wild and free for the first time in forever. I’ve always
played by the rules and kept out of trouble, but Chase makes me feel
rebellious and reckless. Consequences, be damned. Chase Hanson is what
my body craves, which is why I have to explore even more of him.
Chase pulls into the driveway of a quaint house with white shutters, a
matching picket fence, and a beautiful lawn with freshly mowed grass. It
looks like something out of a movie—perfect family, living in the
quintessential family home.
Shit. Does he have a family? Is he married or something?
“This is my house,” he informs me, parking the bike and taking off his
helmet before helping me take off mine.
“Are you married?” I ask, eyeing the football and bicycle in the front
yard.
“I’m not married, not anymore. I do have a son, though. He’s four. I
only get to see him every other weekend when his mother lets me. This
happens to be my off weekend.”
“Wow, I had no idea you had a kid,” I admit, a little taken aback by the
fact that my least favorite teacher has a kid and I had no idea.
“I keep my private life, private,” he grunts.
“So private you don’t even keep pictures of him in your office? Where
is his mom? Why do you only see him on the weekends?” I can’t stop my
mouth from moving, even though I know I should. Growing up with both a
father and mother at home makes me wonder how families fall apart and
ever decide to get divorced. My parents have been together twenty-seven
years and not once have they ever talked about divorce.
Chase’s eyes flash with rage. “Why are you asking me so many fucking
questions? I brought you here to fuck. If you came here to talk or are
looking for a relationship, I might as well take your ass home right now,
Miss Withers.”
“Is that all this is, Mr. Hanson?” I take a cautious step so that I’m close
enough to touch him. Gently brushing his bulging bicep, I stare up into his
eyes, wondering how he can go from sweet to angry in a matter of seconds.
“Did you only bring me here to add another notch to your bedpost?”
He steps out of my grasp and crosses his arms, leaning into his bike for
support.
 “I’m not looking for a girlfriend, just someone to spend some time with.
If you want this to be a reoccurring thing, then I’m down, but if you want
me to give you the white picket fence, bun in the oven, and a ring on that
pretty little finger, you’ll be disappointed. I’ve been there, done that, and all
I have to show for it is this stupid white picket fence and a son I’d do
anything for. Marriage is a huge waste of time, and I vowed to never do it
again.” He motions to the fence in his yard. Once a symbol of love and
happiness, it now sits in the shadows as a shallow reminder of his failed
marriage and empty life.
Maybe his coldness in the classroom has something to do with his
private life. I never noticed how empty his stare can be. It’s the ice in his
gaze that tells me exactly how hollow he really is. Chase must have had his
heart broken in the past, and the after-effects have left him bitter and angry.
This is a side of him I never expected, and it’s quickly killing the mood.
“So what do you want, Pressley? This is your last chance to back out. If
you walk through that door, there’s no turning back. You’ll be mine for the
night. That threshold symbolizes our verbal agreement that you can’t say no
to me. Beyond that door, everything goes, but out here you still have a
choice.”
I step into his arms, making sure he’s looking directly into my eyes.
“There’s a part of me that wishes you could give me more than just your
body, Chase. I can see that you’ve been hurt before, and I want to be the
woman who helps you work through your pain, but if all I can get is one
night with you, then I want to make the most of it. Tonight, I am yours. Do
with me what you will. Punish me if you have to because I want that.
Punish me, Mr. Hanson. Show me how angry it made you when you caught
me cheating on your test this morning. Take that twitchy palm and crash it
across my ass cheek until I’m crying out in pain and coming on your lap.
Teach me the lessons you’ve been saving for only your bedroom.”
He drops his arms, wrapping them protectively around me. “Darling, I
don’t know what you’re doing to me, but if you want to be taught a lesson,
then I’m the right teacher for the job.”
His lips crush mine with a fierce need that numbs my toes. The coarse
whiskers of his beard scratch my delicate skin and tickle every nerve that
ignites throughout my body. His lips are soft, overpowering, and
demanding. As we kiss, his hands travel down my back and firmly grasp
each cheek of my ass, until he’s lifted me into his arms, and my legs curl
around his thighs.
His lips never leave mine, tongues dancing with need and yearning, as
he carries me to the front door and into his house.
My heels slip off my feet and clatter to the ground as the door closes
behind us and our bodies slam against the sturdy wood.
Chase is kissing me like he wants to devour me. Kissing my neck, he
sucks the sensitive skin into his mouth until he brands me with what feels
like a small circle just below my jaw.
Did he just leave a hickey? What am I twelve?
Chase’s cock is threatening to burst out of his pants with each kiss and
bite. He pushes his pelvis into me, rubbing his growing erection against my
slit.
“I want to touch you,” I whisper as he clasps my wrists and pins them
against the front door.
“I’m not going to last long the first time, Pressley. You’ve had my dick
purple and throbbing since I tasted that sweet honey pot between your
legs.”
His hand slides up my thighs and stops when it reaches my already
pulsing mound. I jerk erratically, as his thumb gently traces my delicate
nub, massaging it until I become putty in his hands.
“I’m gonna drop your legs. When I do, I want you to stand here just like
this. Do not put your arms down, okay?”
“Okay,” I whimper when he gently flicks my clit with his fingers.
“Good girl,” he compliments, releasing my legs to the floor. At first, I
feel weak and wobbly, like a newborn fawn just learning to stand up, but
after a few seconds, the strength in my legs begins to build, gaining more
power the longer I watch Chase undress. He does it slowly, of course,
discarding each article to the floor seductively.
He removes his shirt, greeting me with his six-pack abs and chiseled
chest covered in a thin dusting of hair that matches his sexy beard. His
shoes and pants are next, followed quickly by his boxer briefs.
His strong hands slowly move down his body until he’s holding his
cock and massaging it back and forth.
“Do you like what you see?” he questions, stalking towards me. “Do
you like watching me pump my cock in front of you like this?”
 “Yes,” I whisper.
My body craves to touch his and reactively my hand reaches forward
desperate to grab any piece of him I can.
“What did I tell you?” he scolds. “Naughty girl, you need to listen
better.” With his free hand, he grips my wrist and slams it back in place.
“Don’t move,” he instructs.
I’m like a prisoner trapped with invisible shackles. Even though I know
I can move, I don’t want to, because Chase asked me not to.
He opens a dresser to my left and pulls out a condom. I’m so consumed
with lust that I barely acknowledge the warning bells going off in my head
screaming ‘why does he keep condoms so close to his front door?’
“We’re gonna fuck now, Pressley. It won’t last long and it won’t be
romantic. I’m going to shove my cock deep inside of you and ram home
until I fill this condom with all the reserves I’ve had stored up since this
morning. When I’m done, I’m going to carry your limp body to my
bedroom, and I’m going to make love to you, but only if you’re a good girl
and do everything I say, exactly how I say it. Understand?”
I nod weakly, “I understand.”
“Good girl. Now take off that hideous outfit and let me see that
beautiful body you’ve been hiding from me.”
He squeezes his cock. The head turns an angry purple as he massages
his length back and forth. There is an almost primal look in his eyes like
I’m the prey and he’s the tiger ready to strike. It’s a little intimidating, and
with his previous commands, I’m not sure if I should move or not.
“But you told me not to move.”
A guttural growl vibrates his throat before he speaks, “Simon says, drop
your fucking arms and strip your fucking clothes off.”
Hot damn.
I drop my arms and cautiously undo the top button of my blouse. The
way he’s staring at me is making me nervous, and I fumble with the second
button barely able to detach it.
“If you can’t do it fast enough, I’ll do it myself,” he snaps, grabbing my
blouse and ripping the fabric apart. The delicate mesh shreds like a piece of
wet paper, the buttons dancing across the linoleum like tumbleweeds
blowing across a desert. He throws what’s left of my shirt to the floor and
quickly unzips my skirt dropping it to the ground.
 He rushes to me with outstretched hands, grabbing my breasts and
massaging them through the fabric of my bra as he licks and sucks on the
slope of my neck.
“So pretty,” he breathes.
My nimble fingers shake as I work quickly to undo my bra. I’m
desperate for more of his touch—so rough and punishing, yet gentle at the
same time.
He briefly lifts his hands, long enough for me to shake my bra to the
ground.
I’m naked.
He’s naked.
I’m wet.
He’s hard.
It’s about to happen. I’m finally going to be claimed by Professor
Hanson.
“Simon says, arms up.” He takes each of my wrists and raises them
above my head, pinning them against the door again.
“Simon says, don’t move,” he whispers as his head dips down to taste
my breasts.
Goosebumps ridge across my forearms as he bends in and pulls my
nipple between his teeth. Thousands of tiny nerves ignite inside me all at
once as his teeth gently apply pressure to my tips. He rolls the other breast
between his fingers, pleasing both at the same time. His whiskers gently rub
between my breasts, tickling my skin with every lick of his mouth.
I can’t fight the urge to run my fingers through his hair. My hand drops
and curls into his dark brown roots, pulling and tugging, the more he works
my nipples.
His head shoots up, an icy stare penetrates me. “I said don’t fucking
move.”
“I can’t help it. You’re just so hot.”
His mouth quirks in an approving smile. “Bad girls don’t get me twice.
Good girls get made love to if they listen well.”
“I’ll listen. I promise.” My hand shoots back up and winds back into its
invisible shackle. “Instruct me further, Chase. Teach me a lesson.”
His brown eyes flare with excitement. “For the next few minutes, I want
you to call me Professor Hanson. Now be a good girl and wrap those tired
arms around my neck.”
“Yes, Professor Hanson.”
My arms curl around the back of his neck. His strong hands glide under
my ass and lift me until I’m at the height he desires.
“I’ve only done this once before, so it may be a little awkward. I’m
going to wrap my arms under your legs so I can ease into you.”
He doesn’t ease at all. The moment his cock is perched at my entrance
he thrusts hard burying his full length inside me.
“Simon says, moan.”
I moan.
His lips meet mine, as he quickly slides in and out of me, his
movements bordering on desperation. He kisses and pulls back, his fingers
digging deep into my flesh as he fights to stay inside of me while
attempting to get himself off.
There isn’t anything pleasing about this position for me. It’s awkward
and uncomfortable, but it seems to make him happy. All of my limbs feel
like jelly. My legs quakes as they bounce against his toned ass. My arms
still sore from holding them over my head, are hardly able to stay around
his neck. The closer he gets to finishing the more his fingers dig into my
skin. It hurts and I can feel him starting to bruise me. I know he’s not trying
to injure me, but I’m too weak to cry out and tell him to stop.
He grunts wildly, his body slamming mine with four equally painful
thrusts. He shudders, gasping for breath as he fights to come down from his
orgasm.
Is that it? Is it really over?
I feel so . . . used.
When he looks up, there’s a twinkle in his eye and a smile so big it
consumes his whole face. But that smile disappears when he realizes that
I’m crying.
 Chase
Finally!
My body jerks through its last orgasm; head fuzzy with lust and
fulfillment. I’m not sure what compelled me to throw her against the door
and fuck her like this, but I couldn’t overcome my primal urges to make her
mine.
For a few seconds, I rest my head against hers, attempting to catch my
breath; waiting for my body to regain its strength. I look up, expecting her
to be smiling as well, but she’s traumatized, eyes shimmering with
frightened tears.
Oh fuck, what did I do?
“Baby girl, what’s wrong?”
I drop her legs to the ground. Her weak body collapses against me while
silent sobs rock her core.
“Hey now, don’t cry. What’s wrong?”
She looks up with tears falling down her face in militant procession.
“You hurt me.”
Her words hit my gut like a sea of arrows. I never wanted to hurt her. If
anything, I wanted her to feel as good as I did.
She pushes away from me and shows me her leg. Angry red scratches
bleed through her thigh, dripping down a reddish purple bruise that looks
eerily similar to the size of my palm
Beneath her feet are the remnants of her clothing. That expensive blouse
she wore is shredded to pieces like it has been attacked by wolverines or
angry honey badgers.
Oh fuck. Did I do all of this?
I gently grasp her face, hoping to see the light in her eyes again.
“Baby, I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know,” she whimpers, slightly trembling when my hand brushes her
cheek.
“Please don’t hate me. I don’t think I could live with myself if you
hated me.”
 “I don’t hate you,” she murmurs. A robotic tone commands her
wavering voice. There’s no desire in her eyes, and the fire that was there
only minutes before barely flickers anymore.
I did this to her. I made her feel like this.
“I want to go home,” she whispers, pulling out of my grasp.
“No, I don’t want you to go. I’m so sorry. Please, let me make this up to
you.” I step forward, my arms outstretched ready to hold her again.
She shakes her head backing away from me in fear. “Take me home.”
I know I can’t argue with her. I crossed a line. I let my primal urges take
control and she got caught in the crossfire. I can’t believe I let it go this far.
I would never purposely harm a woman—ever. I was too worked up and
focused on claiming her that I totally tuned out the fact that I was hurting
her in the process.
I’m such a dick.
I pick my shirt up off the floor and hand it to her. She quickly puts it on
and throws on her skirt before fumbling with her heels.
“Say something,” I beg her. I wish this could’ve gone differently.
“Thank you for getting my fifty dollars back,” she whispers. Grabbing
her purse and jacket, she throws open my front door and flees outside.
I stand there for a few seconds completely dumbfounded. I destroyed
this woman without even realizing I did it.
I’m an asshole.
I grab a shirt off the top of my laundry pile, fish my keys out of the
pocket of my jeans, and hit the button to my garage door so I can pull out
my truck. I’m not going to make her ride my bike this time.
Like a lifeless zombie, she stands next to my driveway. Arms tightly
wrapped around her torso, she fights the tears I brought to her eyes. She’s
shattering into a million pieces, and it seems the only thing keeping her
upright, is the strength of her own comfort.
I park the truck next to my bike and hop out to help her into the
passenger seat. 
She waves me off, refusing to make eye contact. As she climbs in, I see
her slipping and reach up to help her. 
“Don’t touch me,” she snaps when my hand accidentally touches her
bruised thigh. She briefly glances at me, but she’s expressionless, like every
ounce of her soul has bled out of her.
 “I’m sorry,” I plead, desperate for her forgiveness. “Please let me make
this up to you. I’m not normally like that in the bedroom. I don’t know what
came over me.”
Anger flashes across her face, “You lost control and hurt me, Chase. I’m
not sure what I expected tonight, but this wasn’t it.” She notices me staring
at her thighs and she quickly covers them up with her arms, hiding the
scratches and bruises I left on her. Guilt builds in my gut like a fucked up
Jenga game.
“Pressley, I’m . . . I’m . . . sorry.”
She shrugs off my attempt to apologize. “Just get in the truck and drive
me home, Chase,” she instructs before turning so she can’t look at me
anymore.
I slam her door and slink around the front of the truck. I hop in beside
her, but she’s staring out the window refusing to look at me.
“Pressley, I need you to look to me.”
Her hand brushes away a few tears sliding down her cheek. “I can’t look
at you, Chase. I don’t want to. Just take me home, please.”
“Pressley . . .”
“What part of take me home do you not understand, Chase? I don’t want
to be here anymore. I don’t want to look at you anymore, so put your
fucking keys in the ignition and drive me home.”
“Okay,” I mumble, fumbling with my keys. “Where’s your house?”
She rattles off the address of her block and abruptly turns in her seat so
she can continue looking at anything but me. 
The drive over to her apartment is completely silent.
 “Which apartment is yours?” I question, parking the car at the end of
the block.
“Drop me off at the coffee shop up the street. I’ll wait there until you
leave. I don’t want you knowing where I live.”
Her words are like tiny razor blades slicing through my core. I’ve never
had a woman react to me in this way before, and every time her eyes meet
mine I can feel the pain I caused her.
I pull in front of the coffee shop and expect her to immediately jump
out.
She doesn’t move.
“Pressley, I’m so sorry,” I tell her again.
 She looks up at me like she’s studying my face for the truth.
I’ll tell her sorry a million times if it means she’ll forgive me.
“I know,” she replies weakly, her brown eyes shining with tears. “You
scared me, Chase. I know you told me that it wouldn’t be long, and it
wouldn’t be anything special, but I wasn’t expecting it to be like that. It was
like you didn’t give a shit about me. You were so focused on pleasing
yourself that you completely ignored what was happening.”
“You’re right, I dropped the ball. If you let me make it up to you, I
promise I will show you what it’s like to be worshipped, like you deserve to
be worshipped. I’ll make our next encounter all about you.”
Her hand hovers above the door handle for few seconds before
responding. “I’ll think about it.”
“Pressley, do you think you will ever forgive me?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” she replies, “I don’t know if I can get over what
happened tonight. Have a good night, Professor Hanson.” She springs from
the truck and slams the door before I have a chance to reply. I wait two
whole minutes before I pull away from the curb. The entire time she has her
back to me, her body shaking as she cries.
I feel like a complete asshole, and I don’t blame her for wanting to leave
like she did. One thing is certain, I’m going to do whatever it takes to get
Pressley back on Team Hanson; even if it kills me.
“I’ll make it up to you, Pressley,” I whisper to no one. “I promise.”
 Pressley
 
“Well, well, well. Look what the whore dragged in,” Chelsea digs, the
minute I walk through the door.
If I thought the Walk of Shame was bad after sucking Chase’s cock at
school, it has nothing on my Walk of Shame tonight.
“I swear, Pressley. You better have a good fucking explanation as to
why you bailed on my cousin the way you did or so help me . . .” Chelsea
stops talking the moment she sees me drop to the ground in a fetal position.
“Oh, honey, are you okay?”
Chelsea falls to my side and pulls me into her lap, running her fingers
through my hair.
“He fucked me.”
“Who did? Oh my, are these bruises and scratches?” She runs her
fingers over my thigh and I flinch.
“Yes. He got carried away, and this happened.”
“Who got carried away? Was it Felix? I’ll kill him.”
“Chase . . .” I sniffle.
“Whoa, you mean Mr. Hanson did this to you? Fuck that shit, Pressley.
You have to tell someone.”
“It wasn’t like that. He didn’t mean to hurt me. He just got carried
away.”
Chelsea doesn’t seem convinced and looks like she’s about to jump in
her car, drive over to Chase’s place, and skewer his balls like fondue.
“Tell me everything that happened. Don’t leave anything out. If I
believe that Mr. Hanson purposely did this to you; I’m calling the cops.”
“No Chelsea, there’s no need to get anyone involved. I wanted this.
Well, not this,” I say motioning to the scratches, “but I did want to have sex
with him.”
“Then you’re going to have to do a better job at convincing me,
Pressley, because this shit looks bad.”
I roll into a sitting position, grab my knees, and begin slightly rocking in
place.
 “Why don’t you start with why you ditched my cousin Felix?” Chelsea
goads.
“Your cousin is a loser. He took me to the dollar theater downtown to
see a silent movie. He paid for the movie, but then said he was short on
money for food and drinks and asked if I would pay. He ordered fifty
dollars’ worth of food and didn’t even ask me if I wanted anything. I didn’t
find out until after I already paid that you gave him money to take me out.”
I reach into my pocket and hand her the hundred-dollar bill that Chase
took away from Felix.
“Typical Lix. He’s always looking for the quickest way to earn a buck.
Go ahead and keep it. Take me to lunch sometime soon and I’ll call it
even.”
“Okay,” I reply, sticking the hundred back in my pocket. “Did you know
your cousin named his Prius Lucas? That’s such a fucking turn off. Cars
should never be named after dorky men.”
Chelsea bursts out laughing. “I totally thought he was joking when he
told me that last month. Okay, so my cousin is a bit of a douche, but why
don’t you tell me how you ended up in bed with Mr. Hanson?”
“Chase saw us heading into the theater. He followed us in and I guess he
watched us for a bit. I got up to go to the bathroom and when I came out he
grabbed me, and drug me into an empty theater.”
“Well, that’s not creepy at all.” Chelsea rolls her eyes.
“He kissed me and then ate me out right there in the back of the
theater.”
“He did not.”
“He so did.”
Remembering this part of our encounter sends welcome heat straight to
my pussy. I remember everything about that moment. The way his mouth
felt against the warmth of my mound and how his tongue swirled and
kicked every nerve of my clit until I combusted into a bazillion pieces. I
couldn’t wait to have more of him, but then we ended up at his house and
everything went to shit.
“Okay, that’s hot,” she swoons.
“It was. I can’t fucking describe how turned on it made me. I just had to
have him, Chels. That’s why I agreed to go home with him instead of Felix.
I don’t know why, but when a guy puffs up his chest and turns into an alpha
male I get turned on.”
“It’s in our DNA. We’ve grown up believing that men are supposed to
be in charge of us. It’s like Animal Planet,” Chelsea says, dropping into an
Australian accent. She grabs my shoulder and crouches down beside me,
“Krikey, don’t look now, but out there in the brush are two angry males
duking it out for their lovely female prize. The first male puffs up his chest,
impressing the female with his flashy tattoos and musical talents. The
second male is a bit older but has won his lady over with his scraggly beard
and machismo. Let’s listen in and see which male won their sweet Pressley
prize.”
“Chase won,” I laugh. “As we came out of the theater we bumped into
Felix. He was looking for me. When he saw me and Chase together he went
berserk. He started ranting about how I wasn’t worth the five dollars he
spent on me and that he was glad that he saved the hundred dollars you
gave him to spend on something better. When Felix began waving the
money in my face, Chase snatched it from him and told him it was to pay
me back for the food he tricked me into buying. The rest was interest for
wasting my night.”
Chelsea smiles, “Well, it sounds like Mr. Hanson was more like your
knight in shining armor than the abusive beast that left these scratches on
you. I still don’t understand how it turned into this.” She runs her fingers
over my bruises and closes her eyes.
I let out a long sigh before I finish my story. “It all started when we left
my underwear in the theater.”
“Nasty,” Chelsea gags.
“We didn’t mean to, but I was too embarrassed to go get them back. Did
you know that Mr. Hanson rides a motorcycle?”
“Motorcycles are like vehicle aphrodisiacs, it’s a fucking roofie on two
wheels,” Chelsea swoons.
“Exactly! Imagine what you would feel like after coming down from
one hellacious orgasm, only to wobble out and see that sweet piece of
machinery waiting for you. Then you have to straddle that bike commando
in a too tight skirt that’s hiked up so high that any passerby can see your
assets. That was me, Chels. I threw my inhibitions to the wind, and I
hopped on that motorcycle like it was my bitch. It was fucking orgasmic! I
swear his bike’s vibrations tripled my lifetime orgasm count within five
minutes. Once we got to his house, we couldn’t keep our hands off one
another. Hell, we didn’t even make it past his front door. I never thought I’d
be into aggressive sex, but the minute he slammed me against his door and
told me he needed to fuck me before he made love to me, I was done.”
“Okay, that really sounds hot. Which doesn’t explain why you came
home crying with a scratched and bruised thigh?”
“He got really into it. In order to bang the shit out of me, he had to hold
me against the door with a little too much force. I wasn’t sure what was
happening or if I should tell him to stop, so I didn’t. I had to blink away my
tears and pretend I was enjoying it, but it hurt like hell. I thought he’d
realize that he was hurting me, but he didn’t even look up at me to see if I
was into it or to ask if I was okay. I barely got him to kiss me. He was so
focused on pleasing himself that he totally alienated my needs. It was
horrible. I felt so used. I came home crying because it felt like I wasn’t even
in my body as he fucked me.”
“Damn, that’s some messed up shit right there. Are you going to talk to
him about it? It sounds like he didn’t mean to hurt you, Pressley. He’s a
guy; he probably doesn’t even know that he upset you.”
I wrinkle my nose, shaking my head simultaneously. “He knows; he just
doesn’t care. Chase Hanson is nothing like I expected him to be. He was
aggressive, insensitive, and completely selfish in the bedroom. Or should I
say front door? We didn’t even make it to his bedroom that’s how selfish he
is. I have no plans to speak to him ever again.” As I talk, my arms move
around like a director on an airport runway.
She throws me a confused look. “That’s going to be pretty hard when
you’re in his classroom every two days,” she scoffs.
“I will finish out his class and that’s it.”
Chelsea doesn’t look convinced, “I think you should at least talk to him.
It’s obvious that Mr. Hanson has a thing for you, otherwise, it wouldn’t
have gone this far. Don’t you want to explore the relationship more? It
sounds like you were enjoying his dominance until he caused you to bleed.
You could be a closet BDSM lover, but he just wasn’t doing it right. Have
you ever been spanked?” she questions.
“No.”
 “You should try it some time. It’s weird how arousing being spanked in
the middle of sex can be. In my opinion, he was just too caught up in the
moment and didn’t realize he was hurting you. When a guy knows how to
hurt you and invoke pleasure from it, it’s amazing. I love being dominated.
This is a once in a lifetime experience, and if I were in your shoes, I’d
definitely be trying to figure out what kind of extra credit I can give him to
keep my A in his class.” She obnoxiously nudges me while winking like
she has on fake eyelashes.
I nibble on my lip. It’s hard thinking about what happened tonight.
Flashbacks hit me like bricks of shrapnel expelled from a building being
demolished. At first, I wanted to be dominated by Chase, and I liked how he
instructed me to do things in an aggressive way. It made my adrenaline
broil and made me feel alive. But he took things too far. I never asked to be
scratched or bruised; maybe if I had controlled his behavior more, and
instructed him to spank me like Chelsea suggested, it would’ve been more
enjoyable. Now, my Professor Hanson fantasy has been ruined. I can no
longer stare at Chase without thinking about how he hurt me. I run shaking
fingertips over my bruised thigh and shudder at the memory of the dead
look in his eyes as he got himself off.
Was this relationship even worth the hassle?
What happens if the wrong people find out about us sleeping together?
Holy fuck what did I just do?
My heart rate quickly increases, and I’m suddenly sucking in deep
breaths and blowing them out at lighting intervals while rocking back and
forth.
“Calm down.  It’s going to be okay, Pres. Why don’t you go take a
shower and cool off? You need a good night’s rest. Hopefully, you will feel
better about all this in the morning. I’m rooting for you to work this out
with him. Shit like this doesn’t happen to me. I’m totally living my
fantasies vicariously through you right now. So, please, forgive him,
Pressley, and get back to fucking him. I want our next conversation to
involve rulers and bad student spankings.” Chelsea throws me another
obnoxious wink.
Under protest, I laugh. At this point, I don’t want to laugh. I don’t want
to think. I don’t want to feel. Right now, the only thing I want to do is
forget. Forget what it felt like to have his hands on my body. Forget how
every time I look at him all I can think about is wearing his sexy beard as a
vagina ornament. But most of all, I just want to forget Chase Hanson exists
beyond the classroom. Things were so much easier when he was just my
teacher and not the object of my affection.
 Chase
A full week has gone by and Pressley has barely looked at me. She
comes to class, sits in the back, writes down her notes, completes her
assignments, and leaves.
She even passed my midterm with a B-, but I gave her an ‘A’ because
I’ve been overridden with guilt over what happened the other night. It’s the
least I can do after everything going down the way it did.
Now all I’m left with are the visions of our short time together. I’ve
spent every fucking night jerking off to the memory of her warm pussy and
how it practically swallowed my dick. I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s
almost like she has taken over my mind. It kills me that she won’t talk to
me, and I have no idea if she’ll ever talk to me again; which really sucks
because I really enjoyed spending time with her. I like how dangerous it
feels when I’m with her. The idea of being caught only enhances the
experience for me. Now that she won’t give me the time of day, my life has
gone back to being dull and boring. All I do is work, go home, sleep, and
repeat.
The only time I have any fun at all is in the mornings during my prep
period. That’s when nobody bothers me. I get to school, grab some coffee
and a blueberry scone, and then go for a quick run around the quad before I
spend the last thirty minutes preparing my lessons.
But I don’t really like change. I don’t like to deviate from my normal
routine because it gives me anxiety.
So, when my favorite blonde student marches into my office this
morning waving a piece of paper at me like a lunatic, my anxiety kicks into
super-hyper overdrive.
  “What the fuck is this?” Her sultry voice growls as she slams her
midterm onto my desk. Her emerald eyes flash like angry hurricanes. Even
though these are the first words she’s said to me since our encounter last
weekend, my gut twists with familiar feelings of lust and desire.
She turns me on when she gets like this.
“Your midterm,” I respond, my voice riddled with confusion.
 “This is a crock of shit and you know it, Chase. There’s absolutely no
fucking way I aced this test, it was a C at best. What kind of shit are you
trying to pull here? Don’t you dare try to compensate what happened
between us with fake grades I didn’t deserve. I’m not here to be bought,
Chase. I’m here to pass your class and that’s it. What happened the other
night was a mistake. You know it and I know it. So, stop being a little bitch
and give me my real grade right fucking now!”
My dick hardens.
Yes, her idle threats only make my dick want her even more.
“First off, what makes you think that you deserve a C? Just because you
didn’t have the answers to cheat off of, doesn’t necessarily mean you
deserve a C.”
“Fuck you, Chase,” she slams both hands on my desk, her perky tits
bouncing in the revealing pink shirt she’s wearing. It’s as if her cleavage is
begging me to motorboat the shit out of them.
“I’m not a cheater. I had a momentary lapse of judgment, but that
doesn’t make me a cheater.”
My mouth stretches slightly into a smile because I know exactly where
this is heading.
“No, but it does make you a very naughty student, Miss Withers.” I take
my finger and gently trace her cleavage, allowing myself to soak in how
cool her skin is today.
She smacks my hand away. “No.”
“Your mouth says no, but these hard nipples scream yes.” I grab her
nipples between my fingers and twist them until she moans.
She pushes away from me, making sure that she’s not within my reach.
“I’m not doing this again, Chase. I just came here to get the grade I deserve
and then I’m leaving.”
I stand up, and quickly move around my desk, stopping at my door so I
can lock it. She’s angry, I can see that in the glare she’s giving me, but I
also know she’s breathing more heavily and her eyes are hazy with lust and
desire.
“It’s a shame that your beautiful mouth is such a filthy liar, Pressley, but
with the way you’re looking at me right now I can see right through your
veil of lies,” I whisper into her ear.
“Stop it, Chase.”
 “I’m fucking you again, Pressley, but this time I’m going to make damn
sure you explode all over my cock. You’re going to tell me exactly how you
fucking want it, and I’m going to give it to you better than you ever
imagined. So be a good little student and tell Professor Hanson what you
want from him.”
I sidestep her left arm that’s held up to keep me back and grab her hip,
pulling her into me. “I’m sorry,” I whisper into her hair. “Let me make
things right.”
“Here? Now?” she breathlessly questions as my tongue traces her neck.
“Right here. Right fucking now. Tell me what you need from me.” I’m
doing my best to be seductive, but she’s not buying it.
“My real grade,” she smarts, trying to pull away from me when my
hands briefly touch her thigh. It’s the same thigh I bruised, and I notice her
flinching as she pulls away.
“My naughty little student earned a B- for her midterm, plus a little
extra cre-dick.” I rub my pants against her leg, revealing how hard she’s
made me.
She giggles at my lame attempt to seduce her, but this time when my
hand starts to explore her body, she doesn’t try to move away.
“So fucking beautiful,” I whisper, kissing my way down her neck.
“I don’t want to get hurt again,” she whimpers.
“I won’t hurt you, baby. Let me make up for what happened the other
day. I’m so sorry, for leaving those marks on you. Please, let me show you
how good this can be.” I run my hand down her shirt, fiddling with the
bottom hem. When she doesn’t stop me I maneuver my way under the
fabric and work my way up until my hand is firmly squeezing her breasts.
Her back arches into me, allowing me to kiss those pert, succulent lips.
As she exhales, my tongue dives into her warm mouth.
“Chase, we can’t. Not here.”
Carefully, I remove my hand from under her shirt and gently run it
down her body until my fingers are at the waistband of her jeans. She
doesn’t protest when I unbutton the button or gradually release her zipper.
“Tell me no and I’ll stop,” I murmur, as I run my fingers across the
lotion-kissed skin of her belly and down into her warm folds. The moment
my finger makes contact, she slickens with excitement.
 “I can’t tell you no, because I don’t want you to stop,” she breathes,
arching her pussy even more into my hand.
“Good,” I tell her, dipping my finger even deeper. “Because I don’t
think I would be able to stop even if you told me to. Do you want me to go
fast or slow?” My thumb finds her clit and starts tracing soft circles over the
top of it. She moans, leaning against my desk until her feet leave the
ground.
“I want everything.”
I lay her back on the surface of my desk and pull each leg of her jeans
off until her black lace panties are the only thing left.
I make a tsking sound with my mouth before dropping to the ground.
“Good girls don’t wear black lace panties unless they want to be fucked. Is
that why you came to my office today, Pressley? Did you want me to fuck
your wet pussy?”
My hand grips the side of her panties, and I gently bring them down the
curves and hills of her muscular legs. Shiny pre-come glistens across her
slit as I dive in for a taste. I flick my tongue against her clit, each time her
body jerks spastically, her ankles curling around my shoulders.
“Oh fuck,” she screams.
“Shh, someone might hear you. If you don’t want to get caught, you’re
gonna have to keep your moans silent, baby.”
She quickly silences one of her moans by biting down on her finger.
Muffled screams barely make it past her teeth, but it’s loud enough to
harden my cock.
“We don’t have much time. Do you want me to get you off with my
mouth or my cock?” I ask her, using my free hand to rub the growing bulge
in my jeans.
“Please give me your cock,” she begs, writhing across my desk as I
nibble even harder on her clit.
“I want to feel like you care about me.”
Her comment catches me a little off guard.
Why does she think I don’t care about her?
I’m too worked up to wait any longer. I quickly undo my pants and slip
them down to my knees, making sure to grab the condom out of my wallet
before I do. I’m in too much of a hurry to take my clothes off anymore, and
I fumble to get the condom out of the wrapper before I slide it up my length
and perch at her entrance. I lock onto her breathtaking green eyes, losing
myself in them.
When I enter her I don’t break eye contact. She wants a connection? I’ll
fucking show her a connection. I rock her body up so I can cradle her in my
arms, angling her so she’s the right height to slide down my cock. I love the
contrast of the soft warm insides of her wet pussy and the firmness of my
incredibly stiff cock.
I use the desk as leverage to keep her in place, and slowly slide myself
in and out of her, making sure my forehead never leaves hers. Cute little
moans escape her lips, and every so often I touch my lips to hers for a brief
kiss.
Her eyes close in ecstasy, and I gently bite her lip to correct her. “No,
you’re going to look at me, Pressley. I want those beautiful green eyes to
stay fixated on me through every thrust.”
“Yes,” she moans as I pick up the pace. Each time I thrust, our bodies
smack together and my belt clangs noisily with each pound.
“Fuck! You feel perfect,” I groan, grabbing a handful of her ass cheek
and pulling her closer to me.
She throws her head back, fingers digging into the meat of my back, as
she meets me thrust for thrust.
My fingers burrow into the fleshy muscles of her ass. “Spank me,” she
whispers sexily in my ear!
First, she doesn’t want me to hurt her, now she’s asking me to spank
her? She really needs to make up her mind.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Please, Chase. I want you to dominate me but in the right way this
time.”
“The right way?”
Is there a right way to dominate someone?
“My best friend says being spanked while having sex is arousing. I want
to see if she is right.  I want to erase what happened last time with a new
memory.”
“Are you sure?”
She nods and seductively bites her lip.
I let out a frustrated sigh.
This is not a good idea.
 “Last time I lost control. Are you sure you want this?”
She nods.
“I don’t want to hurt you again, Pressley.”
“Please, Chase. I need this.”
A long-winded breath escapes my mouth as I pull out of her.
This is a really bad fucking idea.
“Turn around.”
She turns.
“Spread those sexy thighs of yours.”
Pressley carefully opens her legs, until she’s spread out to the exact
length I desire.
“Lay down face first on the desk.”
“Yes, sir.” Her breasts touch the wood. I move her arms so they extend
to the edges of the desk and her fingertips gently grasp the sides.
“Tell me you want this,” I order, rubbing my hands vigorously together.
“Please, Chase.”
“Say it. I need to hear that you want it.”
“I want it.”
I bring my hand down hard on her right ass cheek, leaving behind a
faint red outline the size of my palm.
 “Harder,” she pleads.
I spank her again, same exact spot, but with even more force this time. I
can feel the heat of my handprint as I bring it off her skin.
“Do you like this?”
“Yes, she murmurs.
“Do you want me to spank you some more?”
She shakes her head, “No, I need you to fuck me now, Chase.”
Her words spark the primal urge to thrust into her fast and hard, but then
I notice the tight pucker of her ass taunting me.
“Have you ever been fucked here before, Pressley?” I run my finger
over her forbidden entrance causing her to jump.
She holds her breath as I take just the head of my cock and barely poke
inside. She slight whimpers, which makes my cock even harder. Just the
thought of exploring a part of her body never touched by another man
excites me.
 “No,” she whispers, as I barely push the head past her entrance. She
cries out but doesn’t tell me to stop.
“Can I have it?” I question, knowing she’s going to give me what I
want.
“Do we have time?”
I stare at the clock on the wall. I still have a full thirty minutes before
any of my students will arrive. We definitely have time.
“Yes, baby. Tell Professor Hanson he can have your ass. I’ll even spank
you some more if you want.
“Only if you use a ruler this time,” she suggests.
This girl never ceases to amaze me.
Her hand curls around the ruler near my lamp and she hands it back to
me.
“Break this over my ass and tell me how naughty I have been, Chase.
Teach me the lesson I deserve.”
“Fuck, baby, if you keep talking like that I’m gonna bust my load all
over your ass before it even gets inside.” I stroke my cock a few times and
take the ruler away from her.
She looks back at me, that knowing smirk toys with her lips as she
watches me smack the ruler in my hand a few times.
“Does the naughty girl need to be spanked?”
She grins mischievously and nods her head.
I’m still slightly inside of her ass, and I refuse to pull out. This woman
needs to be claimed, and I’m just the man to do the job.
I bring the stick down onto her ass, watching as the blow makes her skin
ripple like a wave. She cries out, her hands flailing, sending my papers
scattering to the ground.
 “Be quiet, or someone will hear you. Do you want someone to come in
here and ruin all our fun?” I whisper into her ear.
Bending at this angle allows more of my dick to enter her, and I take
full advantage of inching myself in.
“No,” she breathes, as I push my cock even further past her entrance,
her eyes scrunching together to mask her pain.
I smack her again with the ruler, but this time she muffles her cry into
the wood.
“God, please don’t stop,” she begs.
 I run my hand over her reddened ass cheek, admiring the marks I’ve
left. Her ass looks good tattooed with my palm.
“Tell me I can have what I want. Tell me you want me to claim your
ass.”
“I want you to claim my ass.”
I pull my dick out of her and ram her wet pussy a few times to lubricate
my dick. After it’s dripping with her come, I press it against her pucker and
inch it inside, making each millimeter count. The deeper I go, the more she
cries out.
“It’s going to hurt a bit, baby. But I promise it’ll feel good, too.
When my dick reaches its limit, I slowly start moving inside of her.
She’s tight like a vice, and she’s going to have to relax if she wants it to feel
good.
“Does it hurt?” I question when I see her holding her breath.
“Yes.”
“Relax. Once you relax, it won’t hurt as much.”
I feel the tension around my dick slightly release as she relaxes her
body, making it easier to slide in and out.
“Damn, baby, this feels amazing. Do you like it?”
“Yes,” she exhales, as the pace increases.
I can feel myself getting closer to finishing. I wrap my hand around her
waist and angle myself so I can rub her clit and fuck her ass at the same
time.
“Oh god,” she cries. “Yes. Yes. Oh, God, yes.”
It’s not the most comfortable position, but I want to make sure that
Pressley comes this time. I work her clit diligently, making sure to give it
the right amount of pressure without working myself up too much.
  “I want you to play with yourself, Pressley. Get yourself off while I
fuck this pretty little ass of yours.”
Her hand disappears under her belly. I can feel the tips of her fingers
barely touching my dick as she rubs the shit out of her clit in desperation.
Pressley bites the flesh of her free arm, her body spastically jerking
beneath me as she reaches climax. Her body explodes against me, her juices
dripping on my balls still slamming into her ass. Her muffled cries get
louder and I know someone’s going to hear us if I don’t finish soon. I try to
focus on the task at hand, and watch my dick as it moves in and out of her
ass.
This hole is all mine. I revel in that thought and use it to my advantage.
Realizing, I still have the ruler near my hand, I crack it across her ass
one last time with a force so strong it shatters the ruler into two pieces.
She screams through another orgasm as my dick explodes inside of her.
I thrust a few more times into her until the sensation becomes too much for
me. I slowly pull out of her, panting, and dripping in sweat. 
My head clouds, dizziness rocking every inch of my core. My legs give
out causing me to collapse on top of her. I hold her tightly, admiring how
our frantic breaths beat as one.
I gently turn her so I can look into those gorgeous green eyes.
 “Hey, Chase?”
“Yeah, baby?” I pepper her mouth with a few feathery kisses making it
hard for her to talk.
“Do you think you will ever make love to me, or are we just going to
keep fucking around?”
Her question leaves me speechless. Love isn’t a word I use freely, and
making love takes more effort than having sex. Sex makes you say stupid
things, and when I said it back at my house, I didn’t mean it. I don’t want to
fall for anyone. My life is already complicated enough with my ex-wife
keeping me away from my kid. I tried to make it clear that I don’t want this
relationship to be anything more than sex, but the more I’m with her, the
more I realize that Pressley Withers is slowly dismantling my walls.
She’s done everything I’ve asked of her, and I know that she deserves to
be made love to, even if it’s only for one night.
I’m about to answer her when I hear the door to my classroom slam shut
and the click of heels heading toward my door.
“Fuck, baby, you’re gonna need to hide. Someone’s coming.”
We both jump up and she grabs her clothes from off the ground as I
work quickly to put on my pants and buckle my belt. She throws on her
underwear and dives under my desk with her jeans and shoes in hand, just
as someone fiddles with the knob on my office door.
Good thing I locked it.
“Chase, are you in there?” Olivia yells, knocking loudly on the door
while fiddling with the lock again.
 “Yeah, just a minute.” I check my fly, smooth my shirt, hair, and beard,
and do a quick check over my shoulder to make sure Pressley’s out of sight.
I take a deep breath and open the door, making sure to close it behind me.
“Hey Olivia, can I help you?”
“Are you okay? I thought I heard some screaming coming from this
room.” She stares at my office door with knowing eyes.
Is the temperature rising or is that just my guilt overwhelming me?
“I was watching a video about a girl jumping off a cliff. She was
screaming pretty loud.”
“You smell like sex,” she says sniffing the air. “And of a woman’s
perfume. Do you have someone in there?”
I block my doorway when she tries to move past me.
“I fucked my girlfriend this morning before I came to work. You
probably smell her pussy on my beard. Thanks for bringing it to my
attention. I’ll make sure to stop by the restroom before my class starts.”
Olivia’s eyes widen. “You have a girlfriend? Your profiles all say you’re
single.”
I can’t believe this bitch is still stalking me.
“It’s a new relationship. We haven’t become official yet. We’re still
getting to know each other.”
I hold Olivia’s glare. She can see right through my shit, but I’m not
going to let her know that.
“Why do I get this funny feeling that you’re lying to me, Chase? If the
dean finds out that you’re fucking someone on school property he’s going
to fire you. So, maybe you should rethink whatever or whoever it is you’re
doing in that office, before you lose your job.”
I refuse to look over my shoulder at my door. If I do, Olivia will know
for sure that I’m full of shit.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you for your concern, Olivia. Now if you
excuse me, I have a beard to wash.”
I know Pressley can hear everything we’re saying. God knows what
thoughts are going through her head right now.
I place a firm hand on Olivia’s back and guide her to the classroom
door.
“It’s lovely to see you again, Olivia. Let’s do lunch sometime, okay?” I
smile, hoping she’ll take the bait.
 She doesn’t.
“I’m on to you, Chase Hanson. I know what sex sounds like and you
were definitely fucking someone in that office. You might want to be a little
more discreet next time you decide to have sex on school grounds.”
I grab her waist and push her against the wall, staring intently into her
eyes. “You sound jealous, Olivia. Are you jealous? Did whatever you think
you heard make you think of that time we fucked in your office? My dick
pounding that over-worked pussy as your nails scraped down my back. I bet
your pussy just misses me,” I whisper, running my lips over her ear. “Don’t
be jealous, Olivia. You had your time, and it wasn’t that great.”
Olivia’s hands sail forward pushing me violently away.
“Fuck you, Chase. You walk around here like you think you’re fucking
God’s gift to women, but God wouldn’t bless us with a tiny dick like yours.
I’m a beautiful woman, and definitely better than any woman you’ll ever
find. You’re gonna regret ever leaving me. Just you wait and see.”
She stomps out of my classroom, her heels clicking down the hallway as
she goes.
The door behind me slowly opens and I see Pressley’s frightened face
peeking out.
“Is she gone?”
I glance out into the hallway one last time before making my way over
to Pressley. Cupping her face, I give her a brief kiss and sigh.
“Yes, baby. Next time you’re gonna have to be quieter.”
She giggles, “I heard you call me your girlfriend? I mean, that’s what
you called me, right?”
The hope in her eyes scares the shit out of me. First she wants love, now
she thinks we’re more than just sex.
This is getting out of control.
“We’ll talk about that this weekend. You and I need some alone time so
we can explore what this is some more, but you need to get out of here
before she comes back. I’m going to pick you up Friday night, and you’re
spending the whole fucking weekend with me. Don’t plan on going home
until Sunday, okay?
“Okay,” she replies.
I tuck one of her blonde curls behind her ear, and she careens her neck
so she can nuzzle my palm with her soft cheek.
 I can’t help smiling, the way she’s staring at me right now makes me
wonder what would happen if I did decide to have a real relationship with
her.
  “I’m not sure what you’re doing to me, Pressley Withers, but when I’m
with you, all of the what-ifs floating around in my head, suddenly seem
possible.”
 Pressley
 
“You had sex with him again?” Chelsea is practically writhing in her
chair, as I recount my morning encounter with Chase. “Please tell me you
got some ruler action.”
Memories of Chase and his ruler warm my entire body flushing my face
an embarrassed pink.
“Maybe a little.”
“YES!” she screams, dancing around. “Bitch you earned that fucking
A.”
“Will you pipe down? Someone might hear you.”
She giggles, “Like you care about that. If you cared about people
hearing you, then you wouldn’t be fucking a teacher in his classroom every
day.”
“It’s not every day. We’ve only had sex twice, and we’ve only messed
around in his classroom a couple times. Will you stop smiling like that?
You’re enjoying this waaaay too much.” I swat her ass as she dances by,
making her giggle like a loon.
“Pressley and Hanson banging in a tree; F. U. C. K. I. N. G. First comes
sex, then comes anal, then he takes the ruler and goes SMACK SMACK
SMACK!” As she shouts, she makes obnoxious clapping sounds with her
hands, timing them perfectly to the beat of her horrible song.
“Technically the ruler came before the anal, but good job; you were
close.”
“OH MY GOD!” she screeches. “You let him do you in the ass? I was
just kidding, but damn girl you let him stick your chocolate starfish? Holy
shit, did it hurt? You said he was big, so he must have spread your hole like
a gyno’s vaginal specula. How are you walking right now? You did wobble
in kind of bull-legged; I had no idea that meant you got your pooper poked
by his rod of love.”
“You’re enthusiasm over this is a little alarming, Chelsea. Don’t you
think there are better things to do than obsess over my relationship with
Chase?”
 “Are you guys actually in a relationship now?”
“Well, he did call me his girlfriend today after we almost got caught by
another teacher.”
Chelsea stops dancing around the room and puts a concerned hand on
my shoulder. “Do you want to be in a relationship with him?”
“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “He’s hot and dominant, and I’m
really enjoying this back-and-forth play thing we got going on, but I’m not
really sure if I see a future with him.”
“Why not?”
“He’s my teacher. He’s ten years older than me. If we get caught both of
our futures will be ruined. There are a lot of reasons why.”
Chelsea nods, “Are you planning on seeing him again?”
“We are seeing each other this weekend. He’s picking me up Friday and
told me not to expect to come home for a couple days.”
“It sounds like a sex-filled weekend is in your immediate future. Are
you excited?”
“I honestly don’t know what to expect. Chase is unlike any man I’ve
ever met, and I’m a little hesitant to keep getting involved with him. If
someone sees us together it could be bad for both of us.”
“It could be . . . but it also could be the best learning experience of your
life. He’s ten years older than you, Pres, and that means he has ten years of
sexual encounters that he can personally give you lessons in. Looks like you
got a little Anal 101, what’s next Third-period Menage?”
“You’re sick, Chelsea. I really think you need to get your head
checked.”
“You act like you’ve never thought about getting twice baked potatoed
before.”
The appalled look on my face says it all . . . Chelsea has lost her ever-
loving mind. “What the fuck are you actually saying?”
“You know how a twice baked potato gets baked, then you mix it up and
it gets baked again. It’s like a threesome. Imagine getting fucked and then
fucked again. It’s a two for one special—two dicks one girl. You get it in
this hole while one pumps this hole.” She gestures to her mouth and then
points at her vagina, moving her arms simultaneously.
  “If they are good at it, they’ll match their speeds like synchronized
swimmers. That’s when it gets really fun. I think all women should have a
threesome at least once in their lives. It’s good for the soul.”
I grimace. “I’ll pass. I think threesomes show a lack of respect for all
parties involved. If the guy really cares about me, he won’t want a
threesome. He’ll just want to be with me.”
Chelsea bursts out laughing. “Damn, you sound like such a prude right
now. Who grabbed your vagina and stuck a cork in it? You just got your ass
railed by the guy, but you’re too good for a threesome. You make zero
sense, Pressley.”
“I don’t need to explain myself to you, Chelsea. I can have hard passes
when it comes to the bedroom, and threesomes are one of them. Besides, I
know Chase isn’t the kind of guy who will ask for one. He’s better than
that.”
Chelsea rolls her eyes. “If you think that, then you’re more naïve than
that cork in your vagina. Mr. Hanson is a guy. All guys crave a threesome.
The type of threesome depends on the guy, but girl on girl is the usual
fantasy. If you decide to have a threesome I volunteer as tribute!” she
screeches, raising her arm and two of her fingers high into the air. “That
way I can have a little piece of the Hanson pie.”
“My sex life is not District 12, Chelsea. You can’t just Katniss your way
into my bedroom. No matter how badly you want to.”
“Damn, it worked in the movie. Still, the offer is on the table if you or
your hot piece of teacher ass wants to add a little spice to your already
naughty sex life.”
I stare at my best friend like she’s a two-headed monster. Not once have
I ever thought about being with two people at once—especially Chelsea and
another person. Though, her question does spark some questions of my
own. What does Chase like in the bedroom? Is he the kind of guy that
would want a threesome? If he did want a threesome does that mean this
sinking feeling in my gut is right? Because right now all I feel is that I’m
nothing but a notch on his belt. What happens when the excitement of
sneaking around gets old? Will Chase just throw me to the side like a
discarded piece of trash?
Suddenly my belly churns like a faulty washing machine—the
realization hitting me harder than the dodgeball that knocked me out in the
third grade.
What the fuck am I doing?
 
 Chase
Every Thursday night I go out for drinks with my buddies. It’s been a
weekly deal since high school. Though, back in high school, our Thursday
night drinks consisted of sitting in Scott’s backyard shooting the shit with
his alcoholic father. My parents didn’t care if I drank as long as I had adult
supervision—even if that supervision was less than stellar.
I’ve had the same circle of friends for as long as I can remember. I met
Scott after I gave him a black eye at my first middle school dance. He was
being a major douchebag and was trying to steal my girlfriend by asking her
to dance while I was getting her punch. He thought because I was in
seventh grade that I wouldn’t fight an eighth grader, but he had no idea how
scrappy I was. After I knocked him on his ass, he quickly apologized for
trying to steal my girl and wanted to be friends. We were inseparable after
that and have been best friends ever since. It didn’t matter that we were a
year apart, either. For some reason, Scott and I have always gotten along,
despite him being a brooding millionaire playboy that goes through women
like he thumbs through his Rolodex. Scott likes to act like he’s hot shit, but
deep down we all know he’s just as a self-conscious as we are. Scott also
has a bad case of short man’s complex. He’s only five-six and even though
girls find him “pretty”, it still doesn’t change the fact that half the female
population towers over him like the Chrysler building.
Finn joined our group after Scott and I saw some kids picking on him
the first day of high school. We ended up jumping in and defending him,
and he’s been a vital part of our group ever since.
He’s what some would call a technological genius and recently created a
phone app that acts as a personal assistant. It’s projected to bring in millions
of dollars, and he’s getting ready to launch his own company. I just wish he
would stop being so shy and grow up a little more.
He still lives with his mom who insists on picking out all his clothes for
him. He hasn’t had a haircut in years and still rocks the same goofy hair that
he had in high school. His wiry frame and thick bottle glasses do nothing to
help him get rid of his nerdy image either. He’s never had a girlfriend,
hardly ever been on a date, and I’m pretty sure he’s still a virgin. If his love
life doesn’t spice up soon, he may just end up being another forty-year-old
virgin that lives with his mom for the rest of his life.
Ryker is my older cousin who took me under his wing, the moment I
started getting interested in girls. Ryker has always had this uncanny ability
to bring in the ladies. I think it’s because he looks like he just stepped off
Mount Olympus: god-like physique, golden brown hair that’s never out of
place, and these piercing blue eyes that seem to look right through your
soul. Ryker is always the first of our group to get to our Thursday night
sports bar. He’s good friends with the owner Brent and always has a pitcher
of beer waiting for us by the time we arrive.
When I enter, he’s sitting at our table with our first round of drinks.
“Hey, Chase,” he greets, as I plop down in the chair next to him.
“What’s up?” Ryker studies my face for a few seconds before crinkling his
nose at me. “You’re smiling . . . and kinda glowing, too. Are you
pregnant?”
“Shut up, asshole. I smile. I smile all the time.”
Ryker laughs, “Not like this. You look like you just got . . . fuck you got
laid didn’t you?” He punches me in the arm, grinning like an idiot.
“Hasn’t it been like two-and-a-half years?” he asks.
“Six months,” I mumble over my drink. “But who’s counting?”
“Well, out with it. Tell me who the lucky lady is.”
“I can’t.”
“What? Why the fuck not?”
“It’s complicated, Ryke.”
Ryker is thirty-five, only a tad bit older than me, but he has already
made quite the name for himself in this town. Not only did he knock his
high school girlfriend up at fifteen, have a child, get dumped, and become a
single parent all before he graduated high school, but he also put himself
through the fire academy and worked his ass off to become the youngest
fire chief in the history of our fire department. I have a lot of mad respect
for the man. I don’t think I could ever do what he has, nor be half the dad he
is to Haysleigh.
“How’s Haysleigh?” I question, trying to divert the subject.
“She’s fine, getting ready for another year of college. Stop trying to
change the subject. What girl has you all smiley?”
 I’m about to answer him when I see Scott and Finn stride through the
door.
“Hey guys, glad you could make it. Chase was just getting ready to tell
me what magical pussy has his face lighting up like a Las Vegas slot
machine.”
“Fuck you, Ryker.”
“It would take a lot of alcohol for me to be that desperate for some
action,” Ryker jokes. “Now spill.”
“Look, I can’t tell you, okay? It’s complicated.”
Ryker frowns. “No relationship is that complicated. You’re hiding
something, I can tell.”
“He’s fucking a student,” Scott pipes in. “That’s the only reason he’d
ever be this secretive.”
When I don’t immediately negate his accusation, the table goes silent.
Ryker shakes his head. Finn’s mouth hangs open like a puppet with
loose strings, and Scott just sits there chuckling.
“Fuck Chase, I was just joking. Are you seriously getting naked with
one of your students?” Scott questions.
I raise a single eyebrow and shrug my shoulders.
“God, that’s so dirty. I love it!” Scott leans over the table like he expects
me to give him every single nasty detail of my sex life.
But I’m not the kind of guy who kisses and tells.
“It’s new. I don’t really want to talk about it.”
I can tell by the look on Ryker’s face that he’s already concerned. Even
though he’s good with the ladies, he has some strict rules when it comes to
women. Dating younger women is a big no-no in his book.
“Chase, you know that I love that you’re putting yourself out there
again, but how old is this girl that you’re seeing? Is it worth possibly losing
your job over? I know that Bethany really did a number on you and you’ve
been missing Darren like crazy, but that doesn’t mean you should start
getting reckless with your love life because you’re lonely.”
“She’s legal,” I defend, “and it’s not like it’s serious. We’re just kinda
messing around.”
“Leave him alone, Ryker. You can’t tell me that you’ve never thought
about banging one of your daughter’s friends. I’ve seen the way you look at
Amelia. You wouldn’t mind giving her a test drive—admit it.”
 Ryker goes white. We all know that Haysleigh’s friend Amelia is on his
do not fuck list. Besides being Haysleigh’s best friend, she’s also like a
daughter to him. I wouldn’t put it past Ryker if he hasn’t thought about her
sexually before. The moment Amelia sprouted boobs and filled out in all
the right places, she had all of us turning our heads. But Ryker has made it
very clear that both Haysleigh and Amelia are not to be touched by anyone,
especially his best friends, and because we love him we listen.
“You know that I would never do anything with her. I don’t know why
you keep bringing her up, Scott.” Ryker’s arms tense, the veins popping up
just below the skin. He clenches his fists like he’s trying to talk himself
down from knocking Scott out.
“Look, I’m just saying that every time that girl comes sashaying into
your living room, you have to adjust yourself. It’s not wrong to look, Ryker.
Shit, it’s not wrong to touch either, but we all know you would never have
the balls to do it. Me on the other hand, I’d take her for a spin anytime she
asked.”
Ryker pounds his fist into the table, making our beer mugs jump and the
rest of the bar patrons look our way.
“Don’t you dare lay a finger on her, Scott! Stay the fuck away from
Amelia and Haysleigh.”
Scott holds up both of his hands and waves them like a white flag.
“Down killer, I’d never touch Haysleigh, you know that. I’m just saying
that Amelia isn’t blood-related, so there’s no harm at looking at her or
fucking her if you ever wanted to.”
Ryker is seconds away from punching Scott, and Scott isn’t helping the
situation by smirking the way he is. 
I decide to interrupt their blatant display of testosterone by telling them
more about Pressley.
  “Her name is Pressley. She’s nineteen, and we’ve been fucking for
about two weeks now. I call her my worst student, but that’s only because
deep down I know she’s my favorite. I’ve been obsessed with her since she
entered my classroom. I can’t get her out of my head. Every dream I’ve had
for the last two months involves her. I couldn’t take it anymore so a couple
weeks ago when I caught her trying to steal the test answers to my midterm;
I decided to act on my attraction to her. She was already on her knees so I
asked her to suck my dick, and she did. It’s been two weeks of sneaking
around and fucking ever since.”
Ryker looks shocked and carefully sits back down. Scott looks
impressed, but poor Finn just looks confused.
“Do you plan on starting a relationship with this woman? Are you two
actually dating now?” Ryker drills me like a newspaper reporter. I
understand why he’s concerned. Pressley is around the age of Haysleigh,
and in his mind, I might as well be fucking his daughter.
“Honestly, I haven’t thought about it. I’m enjoying spending time with
her right now and the future doesn’t matter to me. The only future I want to
think about is what my plans are with her this weekend.”
Scott pipes in, “Take her to my place. It’s quiet and secluded with an
ocean front view, pool, and a beautiful mansion she can swoon all over. You
won’t have to worry about running into anyone from school, and I’ll be
gone most of the weekend. It’s perfect!”
I nod my head. A romantic getaway might just be what Pressley and I
need to figure out what’s going on between us.
“I think I might just take you up on that offer, Scott. I was trying to
figure out how to have a good time with her without getting caught. This
will be perfect!”
Finn, who’s been quiet this whole time, finally decides to speak.
“Chase, I know this may seem fun right now, but I also know that you
worked hard to get your position at this college. I don’t want to see you
waste all your talent as a teacher on a fling that probably won’t last. If you
don’t see yourself settling down with her, why keep messing around?”
Scott slaps Finn’s back probably a little harder than he should and
laughs. “Because young pussy is the best, Finn; you would know that if you
ever dropped that virginity card you’re holding on to.”
Finn pushes his glasses up his nose, throwing Scott an annoyed look.
“I’m saving myself for the woman I plan on marrying. Maybe if you kept
your dick in a woman longer than a single night, you’d know what that felt
like.”
“That’s right, Finn. Don’t let Scott push you around,” Ryker states,
giving Finn a high five. He turns back to me with that famous fatherly look
on his face. “He’s got a point, Chase. If you don’t see a future with this
woman then you need to put a stop to it before she falls in love with you.
It’s fun and exciting, and you probably feel like your ten years younger just
by being with her, but you also know that the chance of you two staying
together isn’t good. She’s nineteen and you’re twenty-nine. She’s just
starting her life, and you’re looking to settle down.”
“I’m not looking to settle down, Ryke. My faith in marriage died the
day Bethany cheated on me with her boss and took my son away.”
I take a swig of my beer because the bitter taste of it will complement
the bitterness in my soul when I think about Bethany getting custody of
Darren and cutting my visitation to every other weekend. This weekend was
supposed to be my weekend to have my son, but she called me yesterday
and told me that her and Gary, her now husband, are taking Darren to
Disney World this weekend and I can’t have him. I didn’t want to fight her
on it because I know how much Darren wanted to go, but I miss him and
wish we could be together. I guess that’s why I’m using Pressley as a
distraction. If I’m with her I won’t think about missing my son.
“Whatever. The point is that this relationship or whatever you call it
with this Pressley chick isn’t worth losing your job over.” Ryker gives me a
stern stare down, but even his glare isn’t going to change my mind about
being with Pressley. She just feels too good.
“It’s just for fun. She doesn’t want anything serious and neither do I.
You guys have nothing to worry about. I’m not going to get caught, and I
won’t lose my job.” I wish I could feel as confident as I sound right now,
but the truth is I’ve been having second thoughts ever since Olivia almost
caught us in the classroom. I honestly don’t want to lose my job, but if I
continue playing with fire, I might do just that.
“He’ll be fine guys. Lighten up. Let the man have some fun for a
change. He hasn’t been laid in a very long time.” Scott holds up his glass.
“Let’s make a toast, boys. To Chase, may he survive his young pussy and
live to tell the tale!”
“You’re stupid,” I tell him, clanging my glass against his. “But here,
here.”
 Pressley
Chase is almost an hour late picking me up for our weekend date, and
I’m starting to wonder if I’m not the only one having second thoughts about
us. I’ve spent the last few days trying to figure out if the relationship is even
worth it.
When he finally knocks on my door, Chelsea is teetering on murdering
him.
“It’s about time you got here. This poor girl has been waiting for you for
over an hour.”
Chase shoots me a pained look, before giving Chelsea a cool smile.
“Traffic held me up.”
He walks past her and stops in front of me. He looks nervous and keeps
looking back at Chelsea like she’s going to squeal on us. “Sorry, I’m late.”
“It’s okay. I’m just glad you came.” I squeeze his hand, trying to lace
my fingers through his.
When he notices Chelsea staring at us he swats my hand away.
“Is she okay with this?” he whispers, still eyeing Chelsea.
“I’d be more open to your relationship with Pressley if she agreed to the
threesome I offered her,” Chelsea shouts, throwing me an amused smirk.
“Threesome?” he questions, his face lighting up.
“Yeah, I told her I wanted a piece of you, too, but that bitch doesn’t like
to share. Don’t worry; I’m not going to tell anyone that you’re fucking your
star student, as long as you promise not to hurt her again.”
“You told her that?” Chase looks even more apprehensive now than he
did when he entered my apartment.
“She tells me everything, Mr. Hanson. So you better treat her right or
else.” Chelsea maneuvers her finger across her throat like she’s slicing it,
making a slurping sound at the same time.
Chase gulps uncomfortably and reaches for my suitcase. “Shall we go?”
“Sure,” I answer, throwing Chelsea a hateful glare from over his
shoulder. “Chels, don’t wait up for me. I won’t be back until Sunday.”
“I own lots of knives, Big Boy. If you hurt her I will cut off your penis
and feed it to a shark. So you better be nice to her this weekend. Capice?”
 Chelsea sounds like an Italian mobster right now, and I can see her
Godfather type mojo is really making Chase uncomfortable. I push him
through the door to get him out of there before Chelsea decides it’s time for
him to sleep with the fishes.
“Your friend is interesting,” he says nervously.
“She’s just being protective. Her bark is more ferocious than her bite, I
promise.”
As we walk, I notice that Chase’s hand is swinging very close to mine. I
carefully work my hand over to his and brush my pinky finger along the
palm of his hand.  
Chase looks at me uncomfortably and switches hands so that my
suitcase is in between us.
I guess he must’ve seen the frown on my face because he quickly says,
“Someone might see us together.”
I walk a few steps behind him until we get to his truck. He throws my
bag in the back before helping me into the cab.
“So where are we going?” I ask him when he hops into the driver’s seat.
“We’re going to go to my friend Scott’s house. He lives in a mansion
and offered for us to stay there for the weekend. We’ll be alone and won’t
have to worry about anyone seeing us together there. He has a personal chef
that can make us any food our hearts desire. He also has a swimming pool
and a beachfront property. I thought we could use a romantic weekend away
from all the stress we’ve been under lately.”
“But I don’t have a swimsuit,” I respond, realizing I should’ve prepared
for this weekend better.
“I’m okay with you wearing just a bra and panties,” Chase says winking
at me. His hand crawls over the center console and he laces his fingers with
mine.
Finally.
“I think it’s time we get to know each other without having to worry
about who will see us together. Don’t you think?” he states.
Having a romantic weekend away with Chase definitely sounds like
something we both need. After our last few sexual encounters, I’m ready
for a sexual experience that I can hold on to, not one I want to forget.
“That sounds nice,” I whisper, looking up at Chase with dreamy eyes.
He looks extra sexy today in his white button-up shirt and tailored black
slacks. I notice he trimmed his beard and cut his hair. I wonder if he did that
for this weekend.
We drive for what seems like eons before we finally pull into a graveled
drive lined with a grove of Japanese cherry blossom trees.
“Dang, his house is huge.”
The house sits on a few acres of land that overlooks the ocean. It’s tan
with beautiful yellow stonework cascading up round towers at least three
stories tall. It has a Victorian-esk feel with its large windows and bright
white shutters. Iron fences line the second-floor balconies and a few of the
additions have pointed peaks making it look more like a castle than a
mansion.
“Your friend really lives here?”
“His dad is loaded. This is just one of the few houses they own. He
actually gave Scott this house for his twenty-sixth birthday. Scott officially
owns the whole property now.”
Chase grabs our bags from out of the back of his truck, sticks my bag
under the wing of his arm, and pulls his rolling suitcase behind him, before
reaching out to take my hand.
I nervously take it, not sure what I’m getting myself into. He rings the
doorbell, and. The music of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 echoes on the
other side of the door.
“Classy,” I reply, smirking over the cliché Richie-Rich feel this house
already has.
Chase grins, just as the door flies open. A handsome man stands before
us in a light blue polo shirt and white board shorts. He’s not very tall, but
he’s athletically built with long features, dirty blonde hair cut short to his
head, and a quirky smile hiding behind neatly cut facial scruff.
“Hey guys come on in,” the man says leading us in the foyer. “Mi casa
es su casa,” he laughs. “You must be the infamous Pressley I’ve heard so
much about. I’m Scott, Chase’s better looking and much richer best friend.”
He takes my free hand and gives it a seductive kiss. “You weren’t lying,
Chase. She’s gorgeous.”
A warm blush creeps through my cheeks and I pull out of his grasp
giggling.
Chase grins, “I wouldn’t say better looking, but you’re definitely richer
than I am.”
 “What can I say? Daddy loves me. It helps to own a successful business
as well. Anyway, I’m just stepping out. I won’t be around much this
weekend, but make yourselves at home. Jean Luc will feed you any time of
the day, anything you want. All you have to do is ask.”
“Where you off to?” Chase questions, as Scott pushes past us with a tiny
bag in hand.
“It’s Friday. Gigi asked me to come over. When I’m done with her, I’ll
head on over to Bridget’s house on Saturday and round it out with Nayneen
on Sunday.”
I’m pretty sure my mouth is hanging open. Does this guy really have a
different girl for each day of the week?
Chase and Scott both look at each other and burst out laughing.
“Don’t worry, he’s just kidding. Scott has a business trip this weekend
and will be gone pretty much the whole time we are here.”
“That look on your face is priceless though, thanks for thinking I have
that much game.” Scott beams triumphantly.
“You’re good looking and rich. Why would I believe otherwise?” I
question.
“Hear that, Chase? Your girl thinks I’m good-looking. Better watch out,
or I might snatch this little beauty away from you,” Scott laughs, before
throwing me a quick wink. He casually strides down his driveway to his
beautiful I24 Spider in a crisp crimson red.
Chase grips my hand a little tighter and shrugs off his friend’s little
flirtation. “Come on, let’s get settled. We can stay in any room other than
his.”
Chase gives me a quick tour of Scott’s house, introducing me to Jean
Luc, Scott’s personal chef, and his maid Emmy. Her real name is
Esmeralda, but Chase just calls her Emmy.
He leads me through the whole house before we explore the guest wing
and settle on a beautiful room with a four post bed dressed in red velvet.
“This place is beautiful. I can’t believe he gets to live here every day,” I
say in awe. 
“It’s definitely awesome, but also lonely if you’re the only one here.
Scott spends more time away from the house than he does in it. Big houses
mean lots of space and space can make even the richest man feel lonely.”
 The thought of Scott being lonely makes me depressed. I can’t imagine
having to deal with what he does every day.
“So what do you want to do first?” Chase questions, throwing our bags
onto the footstool in front of the bed.
“You,” I mischievously reply, already starting to unbutton his shirt.
Chase’s face brightens as he watches me seductively release each button
on his shirt. Once opened, my hands traverse over his chest, digging into
the slight dusting of hair and scratching his skin as they weed their way
down to his pants.
“Is that so,” he smirks, watching me with an intensity that ignites every
cell in my body.
“Yes, I want to make the most of this weekend.”
Chase wraps two possessive hands around my waist and hoists me up
onto the bed before plopping down beside me.
“I think I owe you something,” he admits, allowing my fingers to
continue tickling his sexy biceps.
“You do?”
He kisses my neck, pinning my body underneath his muscular chest. His
massive hands circle each of my wrists as he gently forces both of my arms
up so they are sitting above my head. Tender kisses trail down my body as
his hand slowly travels up my thigh disappearing underneath my skirt.
“I’m going to make love to you, Pressley. I owe you that after
everything I’ve put you through these last few weeks.
He continues to kiss me, but abruptly stops and looks at me with
concern.
“Before I continue I need you to promise me something.”
Oh no, here it comes.
“Anything,” I breathe, as he slowly moves my panties down past my
knees.
“I need you to promise that you won’t fall in love with me. This is fun
and I’m not sure where it’s going to lead, but I don’t want anything serious
and I need to make sure you understand that.”
Damn it.
My gut told me that this was all too good to be true. Being with Chase is
exhilarating, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s my teacher and I am
still his student.
 He discards my panties to the floor before he pushes his hand even
further up my skirt. Now his thumb is working my clit, and his touch is just
light enough to drive me to the brink of insanity.
“Can you do that, Pressley? Can you promise me that you won’t fall in
love with me if I make love to you right now?”
His mixed messages are overwhelming. How can you make love to
someone and not fall in love with them?
When I don’t immediately answer he applies more pressure to my clit,
rubbing it in slow sensuous circles that are bordering on torturous.
“Oh God,” I whimper, shuddering under his touch.
“Promise me,” he says with more authority. “Or else I’m going to stop.”
This time he brings his mouth down to my pussy, replacing his thumb with
a wet tongue and the soft tickle of his chin whiskers against my inner
thighs.
“Yes,” I shout as I feel his teeth gently rake over my most sensitive area.
“I promise.”
Chase briefly peeks up over my knees, a content smile toying with his
lips. I hold his gaze just long enough for us to form a non-verbal agreement
with one another, and watch in bewilderment as he vanishes between my
legs to dive in for a taste.  
It’s only a little white lie. I’ll promise whatever he wants me to, as long
as it keeps him going. But the truth is that I fell for him the moment he
walked into the classroom all those months ago. Though, I’m not going to
tell him that right now—not when his tongue feels this good.
 Chase
Her fingers dig into the velvet comforter as I plunge my tongue deep
within her soft folds. She moans, quietly at first, but her volume increases
when I hook a stray finger up inside of her and tickle her G-spot.
“Don’t make a sound,” I order her. Watching as she muffles her screams
into the pillow.
As always, Pressley impresses me with how receptive she is to my
dominance. Any command I give, she takes. Anything I tell her to do, she
doesn’t question.
I push off the bed and quickly take off all of my clothing until I’m
standing naked in front of her. My dick is stiff and ready to take her again.
She watches me with hungry eyes; scowling when I start stroking my
cock instead of giving it to her like she wants.
“Like what you see?” I work a condom up my shaft, licking my lips
when I see those perky tits budding with need.
“Please,” she begs. “Stop teasing me and give me what I need.”
I crawl over her and push my dick so it’s teasing her entrance. She’s
already wet, and my cock is slipping easily inside of her like she’s my own
personal water slide.  
“Does My Little Cheater want this?” I run the head of my cock along
her slit and torment her by quickly pushing it in and out.
She moans loudly but stops abruptly when she realizes I’m not done
playing with her just yet.
“I swear to God, Chase Hanson, if you don’t stick that massive cock of
yours inside this throbbing pussy right now, I am going to put all of my
clothes back on and get an Uber to drive my ass home.”
Her cute little grin drives me over the edge. I plunge my cock inside of
her with such ferocity that her whole body arches up like a boomerang. Our
chests crash together, her breasts pressing into me like little round darts as
her arms wrap around my torso, her nails digging into my skin.
It’s like our bodies are a tangled web of sin, because the more I grip her
golden locks and thrust into her, the more she moans and screams my name.
Each push causes her eyes to close even tighter. Those green eyes grip my
soul every time she looks at me, and right now my body craves the
attention.
“Baby girl, you need to look at me. I can’t make love to you if I’m not
looking into those beautiful emerald eyes.”
Her eyes flutter open just in time to watch me dip in to taste her sweet
lips. Each time I thrust, I make sure to do something different with my
mouth: sucking in her lips, biting on that nervous pout she always teases me
with, twirling my tongue within the confines of her mouth, making sure that
I taste every inch of her that I can.
 “Yes! Chase,” she moans, staring deep into my eyes.
My lips trace her bare skin until my mouth finds the hills of her breasts
and I’m nipping at her perky tits. I take my teeth across her nipple; her body
twitches just before the sexiest little gasp escapes her lips.
“God, you feel amazing,” I inform her, increasing my speed.
“Don’t stop,” she pleads, her body inching closer to finishing.
This feels good—really good.
Her nails etch into my skin, puncturing me with her wills of pleasure as
she continues to moan my name.
Damn this woman. What the fuck is she doing to me?
She bites my shoulder as her whole body shudders through an intense
orgasm. Feeling her teeth break my skin, channels my own finish as I fill
the condom.
I grunt loudly and collapse on top of her. Trying to catch every breath
she stole from me. I lift my head to drink in her beauty once again and meet
her emerald eyes hooded with desire and staring at me like I just granted
every dream she’s ever had.
But that’s the harsh part of having dreams, once you wake up, reality is
still going to be standing there reminding you that you will only see those
dreams through closed eyes. And right now my reality is lying beneath me,
looking up at me like I’m her whole world and that seems like some pretty
big shoes to fill. Part of me wants her to look at me like that. The other part
of me wants to push her away because the repercussions of falling for a
student could ruin my life—literally.
“I love you, Chase,” she breathes, those eyes gleaming with hope and
admiration.
What the fuck did she just say?
 I blink a few times trying to will her words away and make them
disappear.
She can’t love me. That’s not part of the plan.
“That was really fun, don’t you think?” I tell her, patting her on the head
like she’s a toddler.
“Didn’t you hear me, Chase Hanson? I just said I love you.” She sits up
on the bed, grabbing my face when I purposely try to look away. She looks
confused, but who can blame her? I’m totally giving off mixed signals here.
“That’s nice, sweetheart, but I told you, I don’t do relationships.” I get
up from the bed, desperate to distance myself from her. “I’m going to go get
something to eat. You can join me when you get dressed if you want.”
“Wait, aren’t you going to say it back? Why did you say you wanted to
make love to me if you don’t love me?”
The need in her voice is heartbreaking. I can see her unraveling, which
is why I’m giving her the cold shoulder.
 “Chase.”
I keep walking.
“Chase!” she shouts.
I close the door between us.
“Fuck you, Chase Hanson!” I hear her scream as something thumps
against the door.
My guess, a stiletto.
 Pressley
I spend at least three hours crying into Scott’s velvet bedspread before I
finally pull myself together. Rejection has never felt this painful. I just laid
my heart on the line and Chase purposely shrugged it off like it was
nothing. What’s worse, I broke my favorite stiletto throwing it at the door.
I’m pretty sure that door has to be made out of titanium because my shoe
practically fell apart at the seams after I threw it—which is some feat
because I totally throw like a girl.
I didn’t even bother going down to stairs to eat like Chase suggested.
The wound was still too fresh, and I hate feeling unwanted and rejected. It
was like Chase Hanson knew exactly how to dismantle me and he barely
had to try.
It took me a while, but I finally realized just how stupid I was being.
I’m acting like a child. I’m supposed to be a grown woman capable of
handling a no-strings relationship.
Thinking about it now, I almost laugh at myself. Why the hell am I
saying I love you, to him, anyway? I barely know him. How can I be angry
and upset with him when he made it blatantly clear he wasn’t interested in a
relationship with me?
I guess I read all his signals wrong. But honestly, for a split second, I
felt like he loved me too. I saw the look in his eyes when we made love to
each other. Whether he wants to admit it or not, he has to have some sort of
feelings for me. He has to. Otherwise, why would he bring me to this
ginormous house and want to spend a romantic weekend with me?
Chase Hanson might say that he doesn’t want a relationship, but those
brown eyes sang a different tune in that bedroom. His eyes were definitely
humming the Hymn of Love even if his mouth said otherwise.
Now I just have to prove it.
It’s dark now, and this house is eerily creepy when the sun isn’t shining
through the big beautiful windows. But I know I need to find Chase and
figure all of this out. I have to know what we are.
I find Chase sitting by the poolside drinking a beer. He barely
acknowledges me when I enter. In fact, I don’t think he even realizes I’m
here.
With his head pointed to the ground and his shoulders slumped in
defeat, Chase is exhibiting all the classic signs of a tortured man.
Is he upset because of what happened in the bedroom?
When I inch closer, I see those muscled shoulders shake through a silent
sob. That’s when I realize this goes beyond what just happened between us.
This is something deeper.
“Chase, are you okay?” I question, dropping to my knees, forcing
myself between his legs.
When he finally looks up at me, there are a few stray tears in his eyes.
He quickly wipes them away when he realizes I see them.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Just drinking my problems away.” He takes a quick
drink from his beer before sloshing the rest of the liquid around in its bottle.
“What kind of problems? I’m here if you need someone to talk to. I
know I kind of messed up earlier by saying I love you, but I’m not mad at
you for not saying it back, Chase. I understand that you don’t want a
relationship and I should’ve respected that. I really didn’t mean to scare you
away, so please, if you’re crying about us, it’s okay really.”
“This isn’t about you,” he says coldly. “I could give two shits about
your little infatuation with me.” I didn’t think his words could slice through
me any deeper than they did before, but his words feel like shards of broken
glass penetrating my soul.
“Wow, that was uncalled for. If you want me to leave, Chase, all you
have to do is ask. I can call a taxi or an Uber to come and get me.”
I start to get up but Chase halts me by grabbing my hand.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that I just got a really nasty text from my ex-wife
and it’s messing with me.”
“What kind of text?”
“She told me that she’s taking my son away—for good this time. I
thought they were going to Florida to go to Disney World, but the truth is
they went there to finalize all the paperwork on their new house. Now the
bitch is moving across the country and taking my son with her. I barely get
to see him as it is. How am I going to see him now?” Chase shows me his
phone where there’s a text from his ex-wife explaining everything he just
said. He has her cataloged as Bethany the Bitch, and I can see why.
“Can’t you fight it? Don’t you have joint custody?”
 Chase shakes his head. “She has full custody of Darren and allows me
to see him. I did some fucked up shit back in the day, and because of it I
lost my family.”
“What did you do?” I ask, a little fearful of the answer.
“This,” he says, showing me the bottle. “I used to drink a lot. When my
marriage started falling apart, I would drink my woes away. I knew my wife
was cheating on me, but I didn’t really want to admit it. All the signs were
there, but I couldn’t face the harsh reality that my wife was happier with
someone else than she was with me. She worked late every night and one
night she came home later than usual reeking of men’s cologne. I
confronted her about my suspicions of her cheating on me with her boss and
it turned ugly—really ugly. I ended up getting physical with her to the point
that she filed a restraining order against me. The order kept me from seeing
my son. Eventually, she asked for a divorce and the fucking bitch ended up
marrying her boss. Between his money and connections, I am lucky to see
my son at all. Now, I don’t know if I’ll ever get to see him again.”
“Oh, Chase, I’m so sorry.” I wrap my arms around him and press his
head into my chest, hoping that I can relieve some of his pain by squishing
him between my boobs. I have no idea what he’s going through, but he
shouldn’t have to go through any of this alone.
“I just want to be able to see my son.”
“Maybe you should try talking to her about it.”
He pulls out of my arms and takes a long swig from his bottle.
“Trust me, I’ve tried.”
“Chase, I can’t say that I know what you’re going through, but I do
know ways to help you forget. Even if it’s just for a few minutes, let me
help you through this.
Chase stares at me, attentively, as I grab the beer and place it away from
him. I carefully stand back up and slowly take off the robe I have wrapped
around myself. Underneath, I’m only wearing my bra and panties.
“You said you wanted to go swimming, so let’s go swimming.” I
shimmy my underwear down my legs and quickly unbuckle my bra until
I’m completely naked. I take two cautious steps backward before I turn and
jump into Scott’s enormous swimming pool.
“Are you coming in?” I question when I finally break the surface. The
water is warm, but I still feel a cold chill travel across my body.
 At first, it looks as though Chase is too shaken up to join me, but the
moment I swim underneath the waterfall and let the water splash down my
bare breasts, he’s on his feet tearing off his clothes and jumping into the
water with me.
For a few seconds, I have no idea where he is in the dark blue water, but
then I feel his strong hands moving up my legs and his massive arms
circling my waist.
His handsome face breaks the water’s surface a few seconds later, and
before I have time to take a breath he’s kissing me with a fierce fervor of a
man filled with desperation.
“Help me forget,” he whispers between our lips. “Pressley, I need YOU,
to help me forget.”
Chase’s kisses travel to my breasts, he nips and bites my nipples as his
hands grab my legs and pull them around his waist. His dick is hard, and it
isn’t long before he has it plunged deep inside of me.
One thing Chase never forgets is a condom, but this time he’s so
desperate for my affection that he completely forgets to use any protection
at all.
“Are you on the pill?” he asks, though it’s a little too late to be asking
now.
“Yes,” I breathe. “I have an IUD.”
“Fuck yeah,” Chase growls, swimming our bodies to the side of the
pool. “I’ve been dreaming about fucking you without a condom.”
He leans me up against the stairs, giving him the perfect angle, to
penetrate me.
“I’m going to fuck you hard now, baby. I hope you like your pussy
pounded because I’m about hammer the shit out of that tight little pussy.”
Chase thrusts into me hard and fast, taking full advantage of the
buoyancy the water has on my body. I’m weightless right now, and that
gives him full access to my pussy.
“Damn, baby, this is exactly what I need right now. God, I love your
tits.” Chase engulfs my left breast, claiming the nipple with his mouth and
sucking it behind his teeth.
I’m so consumed with pleasure that I don’t even notice Scott walk into
the pool area and sit on one of the lounge chairs. Chase, on the other hand,
notices right away.
 “Don’t look now, beautiful, but we have an audience.” I stare over his
shoulder and gasp when I see Scott watching us attentively.
“Don’t mind me,” he yells, taking a swig from his vodka bottle. “I’m
just over here enjoying the show.”
Chase pulls out of me and turns my body so that my back is nestled
against him. Now I’m facing Chase’s best friend, tits forward, my pussy
barely covered by the dark water sloshing around my waist.
I want to tell him to stop, my head screams that this is wrong, but as
Chase’s hand travels down my body, grabbing my tits and toying with my
nipples like they are tiny knobs on a radio. I can’t help getting turned on by
Scott watching us.
His kisses pester my cheek; his voice tickles my ear as he begins
whispering even dirtier things.
“Do you see him watching us?” Chase questions, his hand running over
my belly until it’s fitted above my pussy and his fingers are inside of me.
“Does this turn you on, Pressley? Having Scott watch me fuck you with
my fingers like this?”
My eyes migrate over to Scott, whose sexy hazel irises are fixated on
Chase’s hand, currently pleasuring me relentlessly.
“Yes,” I whisper, as his hand hits just the right spot. My body floats to
the surface, and now every part of me is on display. Normally, I’d be
ducking under the water, totally embarrassed that a man is looking at me,
while I’m in the process of fucking another, but Scott is hot and so is Chase,
and all that talk about threesomes earlier made me extremely curious.
“Show him how much you like this, Pressley. Moan loud enough for
him to hear you.” Chase is still whispering in my ear, and it’s the hottest
shit ever.
Scott smiles over his bottle of vodka. Two of the sexiest dimples form at
the corners of his mouth. He’s fully clothed, but just the sight of him
watching me creates this new level of euphoria within my body that
intensifies every sexual bone in my body.
I moan, keeping eye contact with Scott the entire time.
“He liked that. See how he’s smiling? He fucking wants that beautiful
pussy of yours. He wants to drink and taste what’s mine. Shall we give it to
him, Pressley? Do you want him to come over here and taste your thirsty
pussy?”
 “God, yes,” I scream when he begins penetrating me with three of his
fingers.
“Beg me then. Beg me, to let him taste your pussy.”
“Please, Chase.”
“Let me hear you say it. Beg me, to let my best friend taste that sweet
little snatch.”
“God, please let him taste me.”
“I knew you were one kinky bitch, Pressley,” he groans, grabbing my
tits even harder. “Do you know how hot you are right now? This pussy is
soaking wet. Are you wet because of me, or are you thirsty for him?
“It’s because of you,” I tell him, enjoying how he’s currently biting my
neck and ear.
“Don’t lie to me, Pressley.” His hands grip my breasts even tighter. “I
know you want him, too.”
“I want both of you. Please, Chase. Don’t tease me anymore. Give me
what I want.” I can feel Chase’s smile against my cheek, his cock is fucking
rock hard and pressing into my back.
“Baby girl, don’t be so greedy. Maybe I don’t want to share you.
Maybe, I just want to show him what I have that he doesn’t.”
I growl in frustration, “Then stop fucking teasing me, asshole.”
Chase laughs, “Down girl. Don’t worry, I’m not that fucked up. It’s
turning me on seeing you turned on. If you want him that bad then call him
over here, be a naughty girl and tell him to come taste your sweet pussy. Do
it just as I say and you can have him.”
He continues pushing his fingers in out and of me, driving me to the
brink of one hellacious orgasm. The whole time I can feel Chase’s beard on
my cheek, but I never let my eyes leave Scott’s, who won’t stop smiling at
me with that fuckable grin. God, I want to see that face up close and
between my thighs. It’s like I’ve been taken over by a sexual deviant body
snatcher because all my inhibitions blow right out the window and next
thing I know I’m going after what I want.
“Are you going to continue staring at me, Scott, or are you going to
come over here and tongue fuck me with that sexy mouth?”
Scott quirks an interested eyebrow, followed quickly by a sexy smirk, as
he removes his shirt, grabs a condom from his shorts, and discards his boxer
briefs to the ground. He jumps into the pool from the opposite side and
doesn’t break the surface until he pops up between my legs. He places the
condom on the side of the pool and wraps too strong hands around my
thighs.
“Fuck, Princess, I thought you’d never ask.” Next thing I know, Scott’s
mouth is on my mound and he’s twisting his tongue inside of me in ways
that I didn’t know existed. At the same time, Chase is silencing my mouth
with his fierce kiss, making sure to muffle my moans, as his best friend eats
my pussy.
It’s exhilarating to feel four hands on you all at once. I never thought I
would enjoy it this much, but the more they fondle me, the more my body
craves it.
“Suck on my tits,” I scream, wishing for more stimulation.
Chase maneuvers so he can palm one of my breasts. He brings his sexy
bearded face down and begins punishing my left nipple by sucking it into
his mouth. As he sucks, I feel Scott pulling on my clit with his teeth, before
he shoves two long fingers into my channel. One of my hands finds Chase’s
cock underwater and begins pumping it slowly. My other tangles into
Scott’s shaggy blonde hair, tugging and forcing his head to go where I want.
It feels good. Damn good.
It isn’t long before the whole experience becomes too much for me. I
come so hard that my body begins thrashing and shaking around like crazy.
It takes all of Chase’s strength to keep me floating.
“Fuck yeah, Pressley. You let Scott know how much you like his
tongue. What do you think, Scott? Don’t you think she’s got a fucking tasty
pussy?” Chase’s voice is bewildered with excitement, and it’s a little
unnerving how happy he is about sharing me.
Scott peeks up from between my legs, grins, and licks his lips. “It’s
definitely sweet, but I can’t help wondering what that screaming mouth
would feel like wrapped around my cock. You think you can return the
favor, Princess?”
“Only if Chase fucks me at the same time. If we’re gonna have a
threesome, I want the whole experience.”
Chase nods in agreement and next thing I know, Scott has taken my
place on the stairs. His dick is firm, and he’s giving it slow, seductive
strokes as he waits for me to start sucking him off.
 Without thinking, my mouth slips down his shaft, pulling his entire
length inside my mouth.
Scott moans, his sexy muscled body tensing when I tease his tip with
my tongue. For a few minutes, Chase just watches us. I can’t tell if he’s
enjoying watching me suck off his friend, or if he’s starting to get pissed.
When I moan around Scott’s dick, Chase takes that as a challenge and I feel
him grab my hips before he thrusts his cock inside my pussy.
“Let’s see who can make her moan louder,” Chase goads.
Now this is the experience I wanted. Chase matches my speed as he
methodically moves inside of me while I continue blowing Scott’s dick.
Chelsea was right. Threesomes aren’t bad at all.
“Damn you’re a naughty bitch,” Scott growls when I slightly nibble his
cock. “Nice choice, Chase. This one’s a keeper.”
Chase and Scott groan at the same time, and it fuels me to go even
faster. It’s exhilarating knowing that I have both men going, and I feel
Chase explode inside of me at the same time Scott fills my mouth.
Yeah. That just fucking happened.
Both gorgeous men are out of breath and I think that’s going to be the
end of this crazy threesome, but then Scott grabs his condom, slides it up
his length and winks at me.
“It’s time for my test drive, Chase. How about we switch some shit up?”
Chase must see the hesitation in my eyes because he holds up his hand
and shakes Scott off.
“You got your taste and busted a load. That’s enough for today. I think
I’m going to take this little lady up to the bedroom and let her get some
sleep.”
Scott grunts in frustration. “Well, fuck. You tease me with her young
pussy and you’re just gonna take her away before it’s my time to fill her?”
“Looks that way. You’ll get over it, Scott. Just call one of your
regulars.”
Scott chuckles, “Fuck you, Chase. At least I got to bust one nut inside
your whore before you shooed me away. It was nice meeting you, Princess.
Hope I get to do you again sometime.”
Whore? Did he just call me a whore?
Oh fuck. I am a whore!
 I just did two guys at once and that makes me the sluttiest of all cock-
sucking, threesome loving, bend me over and do me in the ass, whores.  
As Scott pulls himself out of the water, I hide my face in Chase’s chest,
making sure not to steal a peek at Scott when he starts toweling off his
naked body.
What the fuck is wrong with me? Did I just really have a threesome with
my teacher and his handsome rich friend? Is this some kind of game to
Chase?
A few minutes later Scott disappears into the house and that’s when I
completely lose it.
“I can’t believe I just did that,” I cry, unable to keep the tears from
stinging my eyes.
“Hey, baby, why are you crying? You’re too pretty to cry.”
“Don’t do that, Chase. Don’t try to cover up what just happened with
cute little compliments. I’m fucking mortified right now. I just fucked two
guys at once and that’s not fucking normal. It’s like you have some weird
control over me and when I’m with you I lose all sense of free will. I’m like
a slave to your sexiness Chase and it’s starting to bug me.”
“Don’t act all high and mighty now, Pressley. You brought this on
yourself. If I remember correctly, you were fucking begging to have Scott
taste you. Do you think I enjoyed watching him eat you out? It about
fucking killed me. And don’t get me started on how I felt watching you
suck his cock. Your mouth is mine.”
He grabs my face and kisses it a little too hard. I pull away because I
hate how he’s trying to control me again.
“Stop doing that. You’re not in control right now. You can’t keep
stringing me along like this. One minute you act like you care, the next
minute you’re pushing me away. You didn’t care when he ate me out or
when I sucked his cock. You didn’t care because you don’t really care about
me. I told you I fucking love you and you dismissed me like I’m some piece
of trash. If you cared about me, you wouldn’t be exposing me to your friend
like I’m some kind of toy you both can play with. You used me, Chase. You
took advantage of me when I was at my most vulnerable.”
Chase stares at me with an unreadable expression. He looks both
confused and disgusted.
 “You’re acting really crazy Pressley, and it’s kind of turning me off. I
don’t even know what to say to you right now.”
“You don’t have to say anything, Chase. You’ve already said enough.”
I push out of his arms and quickly exit the pool. Within seconds I have
my bra and panties back on and a towel wrapped around my body.
I turn to look over at Chase, wishing desperately that he would say
something to convince me to stay, but he just stares at me like I just grew a
second head. His silence is all I need to make my next move.
“Goodbye, Chase,” I shout, before stomping over to the patio door and
slamming it between us.
Five minutes later, I’m in Scott’s town car as his driver drives me back
home.
 Chase
By the time I realize what just happened, Pressley is already gone.
Scott’s sitting in his living room, grinning like a lunatic.
“See I told you it would work,” he says smugly.
“Fuck you, Scott.”
“You wanted a way out of the relationship after she said I love you and I
gave you one. Chicks can either handle threesomes or they can’t. That
chick? Can’t.”
“Where is she?”
“I had Gerard take her home. She didn’t even have to pack her stuff. All
she had to do was run upstairs, grab her shit, and leave. That bitch wouldn’t
even look me in the eye. It was priceless! As she was leaving I told her,
Sorry, to burst your lollipop bubble, Princess, but I just tasted your bare
necessities and you straight up Ba-looed my dick. So yeah, you better start
looking me in my fucking eye, because if you can look my dick in the one-
eyed winkie, then you can definitely look into these predatory, hazel eyes
and say goodbye.”
“Did she say goodbye?” I ask, feeling like a complete asshole for going
with Scott’s manipulative plan. I knew I needed her to go, and when he
suggested a threesome I didn’t think it was that bad of an idea. I’ve done
them before, and they’re always fun, but I didn’t think it would affect her
the way it did. I honestly didn’t think she’d leave Scott’s house. Is it weird
that I already miss her?
 “No. But I did get a sexy one-finger salute on her way out. I just smiled
and gave her the big V of victory letting her know my tongue never forgets
a vag it tastes.”
“It’s gotta be the money,” I say in disbelief.
“What has to be the money?”
“Money has to be the reason why you get so many women in your bed.
I just saw your dick, it’s not that impressive, and you and I both know that
your mouth needs to be windexed, cloroxed, sanitized, and bleached on a
daily basis. So, yeah, money has to be the reason you get so many girls.”
 Scott chuckles, “Dude, my dick is a fierce warrior. I speak from
experience; it’s definitely not the size of the blade that matters, but the
finishing blow that girls care about.”
It’s times like this I question why I’m still friends with Scott, but then I
remember that he’s been there for me through my darkest days and I
wouldn’t trade him in for anything.
“Do you think I did the right thing?”
Scott shakes his head. “Damn dude, you must have it bad for this chick.
She hasn’t even been gone twenty minutes and you’re ready to go chasing
after her. Do I think it was the right thing? Yes and No. Yes, because you
could lose your job. No, because she has a tasty as fuck pussy and I’d really
love a chance to do another threesome and actually give my dick a taste this
time. He’s a little offended that we left him out of the picture.”
“Scott, you seriously need an intervention or something. One of these
days, some girl is going to pop into your life and change your mind about
settling down, and I really want to be here when that chick shows up at your
door.”
“Dude, that shit will never happen. There isn’t a woman on this planet
that can make me hang up these player boots.” Scott drinks from his vodka
bottle with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. I swear he wears
promiscuity like a badge of honor.
“One day it just might. You need a good woman in your life. Someone
who can settle you down and make you better a man.”
“Is that what you’re looking for, Chase? Do you really want to settle
down with her like that?”
I slump in my seat and throw my head in my hands. “I don’t know,
Scott. She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever been with before.”
“Yeah, that’s because she’s eighteen. Eighteen-year-old women are
young, impressionable, and easy to mold. I think what you like is
controlling her, Chase. You couldn’t do that with Bethany. Pressley has
already fallen for you and would pretty much do anything you ask. She lets
you do things to her that make you feel invincible and like a real man.
Women like that are incredibly dangerous.”
Scott never ceases to amaze me. Though he’s a real shithead sometimes,
he can also analyze a situation better than a therapist. Probably, because of
the years of therapy he’s gone through himself.
 I do love how in control I am of Pressley. I like the way she lets me
dominate her in the bedroom. She also makes me feel out of control as well.
It’s almost as if Pressley is a drug and I can’t kick my addiction—which is
probably why I’m so desperate to make things right with her again.
“She’s nineteen.”
“Same thing. They’re all young, dumb, and ready to come. Here’s my
suggestion, Chase. Let her go while you still have a chance. Where you two
are heading is a dark road that will not end up good. If you two had met on
a street, developed a relationship, and then got serious, that would be one
thing, but you started this relationship because you were obsessed with her,
caught her cheating on a test, and forced her to fuck you.”
“I wouldn’t say I forced her,” I mumble, grabbing the vodka bottle away
from him.
Scott is bringing up some uncomfortable emotions. Guilt is a hard
emotion to swallow, and I’ve felt guilty every single time Pressley and I
have had sex. Since the very first time we slept together, I’ve done
something that I’m not proud of, and most of the time she goes home
crying. Who does that? It’s like we’ve developed this unholy union, of an
extremely unhealthy relationship, that’s rapidly spinning out of control. I
know that we shouldn’t be doing anything sexual, but I also know that it
feels impossible to stop.
“Suck my cock or I’ll tell the dean what a naughty girl you’ve been.
Yeah dude, you fucking forced her. Whether she wanted it or not, you
crossed a line that shouldn’t have been crossed with a student.”
Fuck, I hate it when Scott has a point.
“I know.”
“Then stay here and drink with me. She’s just a young bitch with a good
pussy. Trust me, they’re a dime a dozen around here. I’ve dated at least four
girls like that in the last two weeks.”
I pass the vodka bottle back to Scott and hold in a burp that’s causing
havoc in my abdomen. Vodka and I have this mutual understanding. I don’t
like it and it doesn’t like me. We tend to stay away from each other as much
as possible.
“I’ll stay and drink, but you’re gonna have to give me something better
than this foul shit. Got any bourbon?”
“Yup, there should be some in the bar.”
 I rouse my body up from the chair and grab a bottle of bourbon off the
bar.
Three hours of drinking and shooting the shit with your best friend can
really take a toll on your body, and before I know it, I’m incapacitated—
unable to move, think, or do anything but dream about Pressley.
Will this woman ever get out of my head?
 Pressley
The car ride of shame, that’s what I’m dubbing this uncomfortable drive
home. This romantic weekend I was supposed to spend with Chase ended
so abruptly that I’m still in shock. I wasn’t expecting anything to happen
like it did, and I sure as hell did not expect to grab all my shit and flee like a
little bitch either. But how the hell was I supposed to stay in that house
knowing that I just had a threesome with Chase and his best friend? Better
yet, how am I supposed to continue looking Chase in the eye, when my
heart pretty much got trampled on by a trillion wildebeests the moment he
shunned my I love you with a fucking pat on the head? In one small act,
Chase showed me exactly what his true colors really are, and I am not a fan
of his blackened soul.
I didn’t even waste my time by letting him know I was leaving. I told
Scott I wanted to leave, and of course, he tried to talk me out of it by being
brash and revolting. He wanted to remind me just what his tongue was
doing to me only moments before. I couldn’t even look him in the eye after
all that, which is what set off his verbal menagerie of inappropriate signs
and words.
Scott’s little cartoon reference as I left the mansion was beyond vulgar,
and pretty much sent me over the edge. You can’t violate one of my favorite
cartoon movies by making a sexual innuendo out of it—it’s disgusting.
That’s why he deserved my one-finger salute with my perfectly polished
middle finger. Unfortunately, Scott decided to up my fuck you gesture with
a rude sign of his own; splitting his finger into a V and flicking his tongue
like a lizard. Men! Why do they have to be so crude and so hot all at the
same time?
By the time Scott’s butler drops me off, I’ve had plenty of time to calm
myself down. You would think after an almost two-hour drive home, that it
would’ve been easy. It isn’t . . . not in the least. It’s hard to keep my
emotions in check when my whole body feels emotionally chaotic. The last
thing I want to do is walk in crying again. If I do, Chelsea is sure to castrate
Chase and fillet his balls on a skewer.
 So, I do what any emotionally compromised individual does when they
are protecting someone’s balls from being shish-kabobbed . . . I compose
myself, take ten deep breaths, and make sure to check my reflection in the
coffee shop window for running mascara before entering my apartment.
But no amount of composing could’ve prepared me for what I see when
I walk through my front door.
It’s not every day that you walk into your house and find your
roommate eating out some blonde chick’s pussy while a huge, burly dude
with a shit ton of tats has her by the hips and is pumping into her like a
fucking woodpecker on speed.
Yet, there she is, in all her buck-naked glory, my best friend Chelsea,
smack dab in the middle of a threesome sandwich.
All three of them look up at me simultaneously with an amused but
shocked expression on their faces. They stop for a few seconds, staring at
me curiously as I ogle them from the front door entryway. When I don’t say
anything, the guy immediately goes back to pounding Chelsea’s pussy like
I’m not even there. Chelsea mouths the word ‘sorry’ before she dives back
into her four-course muffin buffet between the blonde chick’s thighs.
The strange woman howls in ecstasy as she tilts her head back and starts
swatting her tits like they are fucking tether balls.
Is this really happening right now?
I probably stand there a little too long. Flashbacks of my own threesome
start hurling at me, like missiles. All the strength I built up in the car ride
home quickly dissipates and I find myself racing to my bedroom with a
gazillion tears and an even heavier heart.
Why did I do it? Why did I give into a threesome when I always told
myself I would never have one?
It takes Chelsea almost thirty minutes to come console me. I could hear
her and her sexual companions grunting like orangutans from the living
room. It’s kinda hard to ignore the sound when their bodies were slapping
together so loudly that I had to throw on my I-pod just to tune them out.  
Chelsea marches into my room without knocking. I have my head
buried under a pillow and my music so loud that I don’t even hear her enter.
She grabs my leg gently, and it startles me to the point I scream.
“Jesus, bitch, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” I yell, pulling
my earbuds out of my ears. The song Someone Like You, by Adele, is
practically screaming from the small speakers. For some odd reason, this
song makes me think of Chase.
“I’m sorry you had to see that, Pressley. I know that must’ve been quite
a shock for your tiny, close-minded, prudish mind, but I’m gonna help you
get through this. So first, I must tell you my dear sheltered friend that was
an actual threesome.”
“I know.”
“It might’ve been a little scary for you to see, but I’m here if you have
any questions. I’m an open sexual book just waiting for you to flip through
my pages.”
“Chelsea, I know.”
“You don’t have to act brave, Pressley. If you want to yell at me, then
please go ahead and yell at me.”
“Chelsea, I said I know what a fucking threesome is, okay?”
My best friend blankly blinks at me. She picks at a few fluff balls on my
comforter before running a hand through her long brown locks.
“Okay, when I said yell I didn’t really mean yell at me. I just want to
help you understand what you saw.”
“I saw you, naked on OUR couch, with your ass in the air, while some
blonde chick with no boobs, by the way, attached her vagina to your face
and moaned like she was Debbie doing Dallas. At the same time, I saw you
getting jack-hammered from behind by a huge gorilla-sized guy, who looks
like he just escaped a correctional facility. Where did you pick up those two
anyway? A street corner?”
Chelsea giggles. “My sexual wish dot com. After our little threesome
talk, I was really in the mood, so I put out an ad and Lola and Louie quickly
responded.”
I shake my head in disbelief. My best friend just had complete strangers
in our house just to have a threesome.
What the hell is wrong with her?
“That’s so dangerous, Chelsea. How can you invite complete strangers
into our home like that? What if they come back and rob us blind? What if
they murder us in our sleep? Are Lola and Louie even their real names?”
Chelsea pats my head causing my blood to boil even hotter. It wasn’t
okay when Chase did it and it sure as hell isn’t okay for Chelsea to do it
either. Not to mention, she’s bringing fucking strangers in our apartment to
have sex with them.
“Does it really matter if that’s really their names? I don’t plan on seeing
them ever again. I stayed protected. So there’s no reason to be flipping out
over it. Are you okay? I thought you weren’t coming home for another day
or so. If Chase did something bad to you again, I swear to God, I’m going
to skewer his testicles and feed them to my nana’s hungriest dog.”
“I’m okay and I don’t need you to talk to me like I’m a four-year-old. I
know what a threesome is. I had my first one today.”
Her mouth drops open and it hangs there for a few seconds before she
can find the words to respond. “What?!” she screeches. “With who? Why?
How?”
“It was with Chase and his friend, Scott. I didn’t go as far as you did
with Leander and Lulu, but he did eat my pussy and I did suck his cock,
while Chase fucked me from behind.”
“Their names are Lola and Louie.”
“How do you know that for sure?”
Chelsea scratches her head before a gigantic smile forms on her face. “I
don’t. That’s the beauty of it. To them, I’m Helga, otherwise known as
hotasfuck3somechick69@mysexualwish.com.”
“Chelsea, that’s so bad!”
“And you having a threesome with your teacher and his friend isn’t?
Was he at least hot?”
I nod, “Scott is insanely hot, but not as hot as Chase. We went to this
huge ass mansion overlooking the ocean. Scott’s rich as fuck and has cocky
the personality to match. He’s a little too vulgar for my liking. I think it’s
because he’s got an average sized cock and is making up for it by being
overly confident. He was a major jackass when I left. He made sure to rub it
in my face that I tasted his cock. Who does that? If anything, this weekend
has taught me that I never want to do a threesome ever again. It was
mortifying.”
“How was it mortifying? It happened. You can’t change that no matter
how hard you try. You should take it as a learning experience.”
“It was mortifying because Chase had zero compassion for my feelings
afterward. He just zoned out on me and treated me like I was a piece of
garbage.”
 “Are you mad at Chase?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. It’s hard to figure out what I’m feeling right
now.”
“Do you feel used?”
“A little.”
“That’s normal, Pressley. First threesomes are awkward and one person
always feels used or out of place.”
“I never wanted a threesome.”
“Did they force you?” her voice turns concerned and I can see it in her
eyes that she’s worried they raped me.
“No,” I quickly snap. “I wanted it at the time; I just never wanted to do
a threesome. They never forced me to do anything.”
Chelsea wraps me in a hug, “Oh good, you had me worried there for a
second. Look, Pres, I know that tonight has been a very difficult night for
you, and I don’t blame you for being emotionally messed up right now, but
you really need to take a step back from this relationship and think if it’s
worth continuing. Chase may be fun and ignite feelings inside of you that
seem exciting, but this is a very toxic relationship. You’re emotionally
invested in him and he’s emotionally unavailable to you. That’s a bad
combination.”
“You’re right.”
“I’m glad you finally agree with me.”
“It was bound to happen at some point in time,” I say with a laugh.
“So, what are you going to do next?”
“First thing Monday morning, I’m going to march into Chase’s office
and tell him it’s over between us.”
“Good.”
“I’m going to tell him we can’t keep doing this anymore.”
“Even better,” Chelsea exclaims.
“I’m going to tell him that everything we’ve done up to this point was a
mistake and he needs to kick rocks.”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down, Sparkles. Just because it’s a toxic
relationship that doesn’t mean it was a mistake. Toxic relationships are
perfect learning experiences. For every bad relationship you have, you’ll
find at least two things you don’t want to happen in your next relationship.
So, before you start condemning him for being a shit stain on your cloth of
love, how about you take a step back and contemplate how Chase has left
his mark on your life.”
I stare at my best friend in utter disbelief. Even though there is so much
truth in her words that girl flips sides faster than a coin being tossed on a
fifty-yard line.
I have to do some major thinking before Monday morning rolls around.
My biggest decision is whether Chase Hanson is worth shedding any more
tears over, or if I should finally call everything off for good.
 Chase
I spend the rest of the weekend inebriated. Scott finds it absolutely
hilarious that I am all hung up on a girl that is barely registered to vote. I
totally understand why he keeps giving me a ration of crap about Pressley,
but I couldn’t help feeling like a piece of shit for everything that has
happened. Pressley and I were supposed to have a romantic weekend away
from the world. Instead, I fucked it all up just because I got scared when she
told me that she loved me.
Honestly, it’s not that bad.
Deep down, I know I could love her, but I can’t help thinking about
what the consequences will be if someone finds out about us.
I tried texting her a few times, but she never answered back. She read
the message, but I never received a response. I’m guessing that means that
I’m in the proverbial doghouse right now. I just wish she would talk things
out with me so that when we see each other at school again, it won’t be
awkward.
 

 
Monday morning came faster than I expected. I spent most of my
morning wondering about what Pressley is going to do next.
It didn’t take me long to find out.
  As I arrive at my classroom, Pressley is waiting for me by my door
with the angriest look on her face.
“Good morning, Miss Withers. How can I help you this fine Monday
morning?” My eyes dart around the hallway, and I can already feel the
storm brewing between us. This is going to get bad real quick.
Fuck.
“Cut the shit, Chase. You know why I’m here.”
Her sultry, green eyes burn holes through my skin as her irises shake
and dance with rage. She’s angry, I get it, but this is neither the time nor the
place to have this kind of conversation.
“If you wish to talk, we should do it at a normal time in my office.”
 “We need to talk now,” she demands, her voice rising to an
uncomfortably high level. “You can’t just fuck me and then treat me like
I’m a piece of trash.”
“Will you keep your voice down?” I reprimand her, knowing damn well
that voices in this hall can carry for quite some distance. Some things I’ve
accidentally heard from my classroom when the door is open would make a
porn star blush
“No, Chase, we need to fucking talk right now,” she practically screams.
“I’m tired of being your sex toy.”
Damn it, she just had to go there.
This time I don’t even care if someone heard her because she’s not
being rational and if I don’t get her into somewhere private soon, someone
will definitely end up seeing us. I grab her arm and manhandle her into my
classroom. She barely protests as I guide her through the desks and behind
the safety of my office door. Once inside, I slam it shut.
“Stop acting so childish, Pressley. You’re going to get us both caught,” I
growl.
“I don’t care anymore. I just came here to tell you that we’re through.
No more sex. No more blackmail. I’m done being your sex slave.”
The fact that she thinks I actually see her, as my sex slave, pisses me the
fuck off. She’s being ridiculous right now.
“You know I don’t think of you that way,” I challenge, taking a daring,
alpha step toward her. Seeing her so combative has my dick hard and needy.
She’s incredibly tempting and she’s only been around me for five seconds.
How the hell does she always do this to me?
“You don’t think of me in any way but horizontal,” she counters, “or
vertical if you’re feeling especially adventurous.”
My eyes spark with desire, and I reach out to grab her delicate hand.
She’s practically trembling, and I can tell she really doesn’t want us to end
no matter how many lies her lips decide to taste.
“We’re done,” she whimpers.
“Are we?” I ask, with a coy smile appearing on my face. I can’t help
wanting her. I don’t want this to be done even though I know it should be. I
probably should just let her go, but the selfish part of me wants us to keep
going.
 “Don’t smile like that. Don’t act like nothing bad happened this
weekend. You hurt me, Chase—again.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, Pressley. The threesome was a horrible idea.” I
press my lips to her wrist and gently glide my tongue across her skin.
She moans, but not in protest.
“So horrible. So wrong,” she whispers as my tongue playfully toys with
her fingers.
“So right,” I murmur, pushing her against my desk.
“We can’t keep doing this. I don’t care how enticing it may be.”
“I can be rather enticing when I want to be, Miss Withers.” My hand
travels up her waist and underneath her shirt until I’m firmly holding her
right breast and I’ve lifted her shirt up above her chest. I bring my mouth
down and encircle her nipple, my beard tickling and scratching the skin of
her slender stomach as I lightly please her nipple.  
She leans against my desk until she’s sitting on top of it, her legs
hooking around my thighs. She didn’t think this outfit through this morning,
because she’s wearing a light purple skirt with a loose fitting, white top.
The easy access has my free hand wandering up her legs and toying with
her underwear within seconds.
“Pressley, I know our relationship has been a bit noxious, but I can’t
stop wanting you.”
She doesn’t protest when I move her underwear to the side and gently
brush her entrance with my fingers.
She’s already wet.
Yeah, she definitely doesn’t want this to end.
“Chase, I can’t. I have too many feelings for you and every time we do
this, they get more confusing.” As she talks, she undoes my belt, frees my
button, and has my fly zipped down. Now her soft hands are gliding up and
down my length, begging for more.
This girl has no idea what she wants, but I know exactly what she
needs.  
Her fingers dig into my hair as I rake her nipple gently between my
teeth. At the same time, I push my finger inside of her channel and start
toying with her wet folds.
“Do you want me to fuck you, Pressley?”
“No,” she moans. “I want you to make love to me.”
 That word should’ve stalled me. I should’ve stepped away right then
and there, but there’s something about her needy vulnerability that has me
enchanted.
She works my underwear down past my ass until she unleashes my dick
from its fabric cage. I’m so worked up that I don’t even bother grabbing a
condom. I just grab her hips, move her underwear even more to the side,
and slide into her.
Yeah, this relationship is definitely fucked up.
“Kiss me, Chase, please.”
She’s begging for more intimacy. She wants me to tell her that I love
her, too, but I know if I allow myself to fall for her any more than I already
have, it will be damaging for both of us. I’m fucked up and getting close to
me always ends in disaster. Just ask my ex-wife.
Despite all the warning bells telling me it’s a bad idea, I gratify her
request.
My mouth fits over hers, concealing her moans, as my tongue plays
with the insides of her mouth. The harder I kiss her, the more her fingers dig
into my skin, it makes me want to work even harder at getting her to
orgasm. There’s something dangerous about kissing a woman while having
sex. The longer we kiss, the harder it becomes to sheath my own orgasm
from exploding inside of her.
“Chase, I love you,” she whispers.
I don’t respond with words, instead, I increase the speed and strength of
my thrusts, making sure the only sounds she can make from here on out are
moans.
“I’m getting close, baby. Either you come now, or I’m gonna end up
filling that sweet little pussy.”
She moans as my thrusts get more persistent, getting even louder the
faster I get.
She bites my lip. I nibble her throat. Her fingers etch into my back. My
fingers dig into her thighs. Each time she does something sexual, I try to
one-up her with something equally gratifying. I can tell she’s getting ready
to come and just when I think she’s just about to finish, the unthinkable
happens . . .
My office door slams open  
 Pressley
When the door bangs open, I scream so loud that I’m sure the whole
school can hear me.
“Mr. Hanson, you get off that girl right now!” A loud voice barks. I
can’t see who it is from the position I’m sitting in, but the voice is powerful
and commanding and has Chase cringing.
He springs off me like a super-powered jackrabbit, leaving me exposed
and mortified. He quickly grabs his pants and pulls them up, but it’s too
late, we’ve finally been caught.
Dean Willoughby is standing in the doorway, along with a female
teacher I’ve only seen once or twice.
“See, Ron, I told you he was having inappropriate relations with
someone in his office. I just didn’t realize it was a student,” the woman
teacher says smugly. She has her arms crossed and is staring at Chase like
she just caught him cheating on her.
They must’ve slept together before.
Dean Willoughby steps backward, so he can no longer see me. Thank
God, because my right breast was sitting outside my shirt and my legs are
still spread open like I’m in the middle of doing extreme yoga.
I wonder if the dean will take that as a valid excuse as to what we are
both doing right now? No, probably not.
“I’m going to give you and Miss Withers two minutes to get yourselves
together and then I expect you both to follow me.”
He closes the door.
Chase immediately begins panicking. I’m just sitting here, still in the
same position I was in two minutes ago when the dean walked in on us. I
guess instead of moving, I play possum when I get caught having sex. This
is what happens when you’re in shock.
“Fuck,” he yells. “Don’t just sit there like an idiot, Pressley, get fucking
dressed.”
“What did you just call me?” I question, wondering if my ears are
playing tricks on me, because if Chase just called me an idiot that’s some
seriously fucked up shit.
 I finally manage to get my limbs moving and jump off the desk, so I can
fix my skirt, and readjust my bra and shirt.
“I said, you were sitting there like an idiot. Did you not see what just
happened? That’s the dean! He just caught us having sex and you just sat
there like some whore-ass Barbie doll with her legs permanently stuck in
the air. What the hell is wrong with you?” he snaps.
If there is one thing I cannot stand, it’s having a man belittle me. I don’t
care that the dean and that teacher are standing on the other side of the door.
Chase will not get away with calling me names like that.
“Me? Me?! I came in here to break shit off with you. You initiated the
sex with me, and then you proceed to berate me and call me names because
we get caught? This isn’t my fault, Chase! If anything, it’s yours.”
Chase turns toward me, his brows arched in anger, his mouth twitching
ever so slightly.
“Let’s go. Before I say something I regret,” he tells me through gritted
teeth. I notice his fists are clenched and he’s practically quivering with rage.
He flings open the door and marches out of his office with both fists still
tightened at his sides.
Dean Willoughby and the teacher are waiting for us.
“Now if you both will follow me to my office,” the dean says, looking
both disappointed and angry.
Luckily, the other students haven’t even entered the building yet, so not
that many people witness our pathetic walk of shame. The ones that do see,
I make sure not to make any eye contact with. The dean dismisses the tattle-
tale teacher and tells her she is no longer needed. She looks pissed. I bet she
was just itching to see what happens next. Chase flips her off the moment
the dean turns away from us.
Damn, he’s really pissed off right now.
We make the long trek to the dean’s office, and once there, he stops just
in front of his door.
“Mr. Hanson, I would like to speak with Miss Withers alone. Please
wait out here.”
“Can’t we go in together?” Chase questions, looking absolutely terrified
at the thought of us being questioned separately.
“No, you will wait out here,” the dean says more firmly. “Miss Withers,
please follow me.”
 I give Chase a confused glance before entering his office, and the last
thing I see before the door closes is Chase’s eyes welling up with tears.
“Please have a seat, Miss Withers,” the dean instructs, motioning to a
red leather chair sitting in front of his large, cherry wood desk.
I carefully take a seat and avoid making eye contact with the man who
holds my future in his hands.
“Do you mind if I call you Pressley?”
I shake my head.
“Good, I want this conversation to be comfortable and for you to feel
safe talking to me. It’s important that you know, that we take,
student/teacher fraternization very seriously at this school. When Ms.
Marazi first came to me with the accusation that Mr. Hanson was having
sexual relations in his office, I was a bit skeptical. Rumors fly like hawks
around here, and it doesn’t take long for me to hear things I probably
shouldn’t hear. I knew that they had a bit of a history with one another, but
whatever relationship they had ended very quickly, so I chose not to address
it. When she came to me accusing Mr. Hanson of using his office
recreationally, I thought it was because she was jealous and just trying to
get him in trouble. I never expected to find him in such a compromising
position with a student. I want to apologize for walking in on you like I did,
but you have to understand, that we don’t condone that kind of behavior on
school property.”
“I do understand,” I whisper, to the point I barely hear myself. I stare at
my feet, refusing to look up. I’m so overwhelmed with guilt that it’s
practically eating me alive.
I briefly glance up when he takes a little longer to respond than I’m
expecting and quickly look back down at my feet when he frowns at me.
“I’d like to know how long this has been going on between you and Mr.
Hanson. Who started the relationship? What started it? Every detail is very
important, Pressley; your scholarship is in jeopardy, and there is a huge
chance you may be kicked out of school over this.”
“Really?” I squeak, meeting his eyes. Though, it’s kinda hard to make
out his face through the veil of tears currently obstructing my vision. “I
don’t want that to happen. I love it here,” I stammer.
“I understand. You’re a good student Pressley, and I know that we
definitely don’t want to lose you, but we have a certain protocol to abide by,
which is why it’s very important that you are open and honest with me, and
tell me everything from the beginning.”
I look over at the door.
“He can’t help you right now,” the dean tells me. He clasps his hands
together and gently leans over his desk, waiting for me to answer all of his
questions.
This is gonna suck because I’m not going to lie.
“I . . . I . . .” tears stream down my face. Guilt drags through my body
like an anchor scraping across an ocean bottom. I can feel it weighing me
down, and I know I need to release it; otherwise, I’m going to combust.
“He caught me cheating. I didn’t study for my midterm, and I panicked.
I ended up stealing some keys from a janitor and sneaking into his
classroom. I planned on copying the test and then using it to study before
class but Chase ended up coming to class early that day.”
“I see. Those are some pretty serious infractions, Pressley, but let’s start
off with the one that I’m the most concerned about. Can you please
elaborate on how you cheated on a test?”
“I was going to cheat on a test, but I didn’t get that far. When Chase
walked in, I hid under his desk, and then . . .” my voice trails off because I
know the next part of our story may seal Chase’s fate.
“And then what?” the dean questions.
I take a long deep breath and blow it out.
Should I tell him the truth, or lie for Chase?
 I go back and forth between each consequence before I open my mouth
again.
Honesty is always the best policy.
“He walked in. I was hiding under his desk. He plopped down in his
chair and then started . . . um . . . well, you know . . . um pleasuring
himself.”
My cheeks pink in embarrassment, because yeah, I just admitted to
watching Chase give his dick a shaft massage.
“I see. Did Mr. Hanson know that you were under the desk at the time?”
“No,” I quickly reply, “Chase had no idea that I was under his desk, not
until I hit my head on top of it.”
“Okay, so what happened next?”
 “He told me that if I didn’t want to be turned in for cheating, then I
would have to . . . well . . . you know . . . suck him.” I’m talking like a
twelve-year-old. Everything about this moment is beyond mortifying, and
the more I talk about it, the more it sounds like Chase was taking advantage
of me that day. Shit!
“And did you?”
I nod.
“Did you want to?”
I nod again.
“He didn’t force me if that’s what you are implying. I was attracted to
him from the first day I walked into his classroom.”
“I see.”
He says I see a lot. I wonder if he knows any other responses other than
I see?
“And what happened next?”
“Well, I finished him . . . you know . . . off and stuff, and then he told
me if I didn’t meet him that night that he would tell you that he caught me
cheating.”
“And did you see him that night?”
“Well, not initially. I tried to avoid him because it felt wrong to be
together. I ended up going out with another guy, but Chase, I mean, Mr.
Hanson, followed us into a movie theater where our relationship went even
further.”
“I see.”
There he goes again.
“We started seeing each other after that. It’s been about a month or so.”
“Was today the only other time besides that first encounter where he
caught you cheating, that you’ve had sexual relations on school property?”
he asks me, his eyes even sterner than before.
“No, Sir, It’s happened more than twice.”
The dean leans back in his chair and sighs. “Are you in love with him?”
“Maybe . . . I mean, I think I am, but I don’t think he feels the same
way.”
“Do you feel like Mr. Hanson took advantage of you or that he
blackmailed you into sleeping with him when he caught you cheating?”
 The question catches me off guard. Not once did I feel like Chase was
blackmailing me, but now that I think about it, he kind of did.
“No . . . yes . . . honestly, I don’t know. I don’t feel like he blackmailed
me because I wanted him, but I also feel like there were times he may have
used the cheating issue to get things from me that I may not have been
comfortable with.”
The dean frowns.
“Let’s talk about the janitor keys. You said you stole them? That doesn’t
sound like something you would do, Pressley.”
I hang my head. “Yes, Sir. It’s not something I’m proud of, but I was
desperate at the time. The janitor left his cart unattended and I saw the keys
lying on the cart and I took them. I’ve given them back since then, but I still
took them and used them to get into Chase’s office that day.”
“Pressley, I’m very concerned about quite a few things you have told
me here today. Not only have you been sleeping with one of your teachers,
but you also attempted to cheat on your midterm, stole school property, and
broke into Mr. Hanson’s office. These are all things that I can’t just slap
your hand with a warning and overlook. At this time, I’m going to have to
suspend you for at least two weeks. During that time, we will be
investigating your relationship with Mr. Hanson and discussing your
scholarship and future at this school. I need to be honest with you. This is
not good, and I’m going to have to approach the school board about how we
would like to proceed. I’m going to ask that during your suspension, that
you stay away from Mr. Hanson. Should you break that clause, it will be
grounds for immediate expulsion from school.”
“Fuck my life,” I cuss, quickly realizing that I just swore in front of the
dean. “Oh God, I’m so sorry, Dean Willoughby. I didn’t mean to cuss in
front of you. I’m not usually like this, and I don’t even know how to
respond without sounding like a total idiot. I messed up—I can freely admit
that. But I can tell you that I love this school, and will do anything to stay
here.”
“I am glad to hear that, Pressley. Your passion is something to be
admired. I’m going to be honest with you. Should the school board decide
that the best action is to expel you, any scholarship monies spent up to this
point will need to be paid back in full.”
“You’re kidding me right?”
 “Miss Withers, I don’t kid.”
“What happens if you decide that I can stay in school?”
“I will speak to the school board and let you know in two weeks what
our decision is, Pressley. Should we grant you the privilege of continuing
your education here; any work missed in your classes will have to be
marked as a zero, without any opportunity to make it up. It will be up to
your teachers, whether they will allow extra credit work to be turned in, but
don’t count on it. Any other decisions or repercussions, for your actions,
will be determined at that time.”
“I understand. Can I say one last thing before you dismiss me?”
“Of course,” he replies, watching me attentively.
“First, I would like to say that I’m so sorry. I was reckless and stupid,
and I really let my judgment get clouded. I promise you that if you give me
a chance to stay that nothing like this will ever happen again. I will also
show you that I’m worth taking the second chance on.”
“Thank you, Pressley. I will definitely take that statement into
consideration. Please head home, and remember that any future contact
with Mr. Hanson from this day forward, could prove detrimental to your
future here at the university. Do you understand?”
I nod. “Yes, Sir, I do. Thank you.”
He walks me out of the door. Chase is sitting on a chair near the office
door with his head hanging in his hands.
“Mr. Hanson, please come inside. Miss Withers, have a nice day.”
Chase looks up, and then quickly scrambles to his feet. As he walks past
me, I can see the questions in his eyes. I want to tell him to be careful. I
want to say that I’m not allowed to talk to him anymore, but before I can
say a single word, the door slams shut between us.
I’m fucking screwed.
 
 Chase
There’s nothing more damaging to a man’s psyche than sitting in a chair
outside the dean’s office, wallowing in your guilty conscience, waiting to
hear your fate.
I royally fucked up.
I can’t believe I let things go as far as they did. I should’ve never
messed around with one of my students—even if that student is Pressley
Withers.
God, why did I let this happen?
How could I be this stupid?
I’m about to lose everything I’ve ever worked for and for what? A little
pussy isn’t worth all this stress. Sure, it was fun while it lasted, but even
good things have to come to an end. I should’ve just let her break shit off
with me this morning and let that be the end of it. But no; she just had to
march up to me, wearing that sexy as hell skirt, and get me all worked up
by going off on me the way she did. Combative women are sexy. I can’t
help wanting a woman that wants to challenge me like Pressley does.
I can’t believe Olivia turned me in to the dean. That stupid bitch
should’ve just minded her own business. She’s just a hateful shrew who
wants everyone around her to be as unhappy as she is.
I hope she gets a flesh-eating venereal disease that consumes that nasty
vagina of hers.
I sat there for a good fifteen minutes, fidgeting and running my hands
through my hair and over my beard before the door opened again.
“Mr. Hanson, please come inside. Miss Withers, have a nice day,” Ron’s
voice jolts me to my feet.
I have no idea what was said on the other side of that door, but the look
of fear in Pressley’s eyes has me wondering if I should just give my
resignation now.
I’m tempted to grab her hand as she passes by me, but when I see Ron
shake his head, I drop my hand.
I’m not even two feet into his office before he is slamming the door
behind us.
 “Sit down, Mr. Hanson.”
I sit.
“I’m sorry, Ron,” I start to say.
“Just stop, Chase. No amount of apologies can make up for what you
did to that student. In all my years as an educational advisor, I’ve never
been put in a situation like this. You hear about professors having
relationships with students all the time, we have policies in place just in
case something like this would happen, but I never thought I’d have to deal
with it at this university. I’m highly disappointed in you, Chase. You were
one of our most promising professors, and we were so pleased to add you to
our staff. I took a chance on you when I hired you, Chase. You’re a good-
looking man who is young and full of new ideas. I thought it would be
easier for you to identify and teach these young and impressionable
students. Unfortunately, it’s that exact combo that got you into this situation
with Miss Withers.”
“I know,” I mumble.
“Chase, Miss Withers told me how all this started from her point of
view, but I would like to hear your side of the story, please.”
“She came on to me,” I quickly, blurt. Knowing damn well that was far
from the truth. “She’s been dropping subtle hints all semester: wearing short
skirts, crossing and uncrossing her legs when she knew I was looking. She
even went as far as to hide under the desk in my office and begged to give
me sexual favors so she could get a better grade on her midterm. I tried to
tell her I wasn’t interested, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. I’m a
single man with needs, Ron. She’s a pretty girl that threw herself at me. I
just let a momentary lapse of judgment get the better of me. I apologize for
letting it get this far, and I promise it will never go that far again.”
I can’t read the expression on Ron’s face, which is a little unnerving.
He frowns. “Unfortunately, Chase, that is not the story she gave me. I
wish I could believe you, but her story was more believable. Parts of your
stories are similar, which is why I believe her side more than yours.
According to her, she had snuck in your office to steal test answers to your
midterm because she felt like she wouldn’t be able to pass it.”
Fuck. She told him the truth.
I slink even further down in my chair.
 “She said that you came back early and she hid under your desk. At that
point, you had no idea she was hiding under your desk and started
masturbating. She startled you by hitting her head on the desk. She then
said that you gave her an ultimatum, either she gives you oral sex or you
were going to turn her in for cheating on her midterm. Does any of this
sound familiar?”
I’m not sure what to say. I feel like I’m already six feet under with the
last lie I told him. Do I continue claiming she came on to me, or do I tell the
truth and accept my fate?
“Maybe a little.”
“She told me that she was a willing part in this relationship and that you
never forced her to do anything sexual with her. Although, the very first few
encounters would be considered blackmail in a court of law if she were ever
to press charges.”
“Blackmail? I never blackmailed her.”
“Suck my dick or you will be turned into the dean for cheating. That is
blackmail. Whether she wanted to or not, it’s still coercing her into doing
something for you, under the pretense that you won’t do something negative
in return.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“I am right. Look, Chase, I like you—I really do, but what happened
between you and Pressley Withers cannot be overlooked. I’m going to have
to fire you.”
“What? Why? It’s only my first infraction.”
“Yes, it is. It’s also against school policy to have sexual relations with a
student and grounds for immediate termination.”
“It was a momentary lapse of judgment and I promise you it will never
happen again.”
Dean Willoughby leans back in his chair. “My hands are tied, Chase.
What you did was wrong on so many moral levels. You completely abused
your power as a professor at this college and used that girl. Do you even
care about her?”
“In a way I do, I guess.”
“Do you love her? Because, if you don’t you need to realize that she’s
definitely in love with you.”
 “No,” I answer truthfully, realizing quickly how wrong this whole
relationship with her has been. I never intended for her to fall in love with
me. I made sure I was upfront with her from the get-go, and that I didn’t
want a relationship, but her revealing her feelings for me to the dean, only
solidifies how serious this relationship has gotten, in this short amount of
time.
“I see. That’s pretty unfortunate, Chase. You’re playing with her heart
right now. It’s not a toy and you’re handling something very delicate. I have
already informed Miss Withers that it is best to stay away from you. Her
future here at this university depends on it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m in the position to expel her.”
“You can’t do that!” I screech.
“I certainly can. If I fire you, it’s only fair that I expel her as well.”
“What happens to her scholarship? She worked so hard to get it.”
“She will have to pay it all back. Every cent she used, from when she
received it, until now.”
“No, you can’t do that, Ron. I know what we did was wrong, but she
worked so hard for that scholarship. She can’t afford to pay it back.”
“My hands are tied. Both of you admitted to amicable relations. She
was just as much a part of this as you were.”
“What if I change what I said? What if I say that I coerced her into
having sex with me in order to get a passing grade? Would she keep her
scholarship and remain here?”
“She told me . . .”
“Forget what she told you, Ron. I’m willing to jump on the sword for
her. I’ve already ruined my career; please don’t let this ruin hers as well. I
am freely admitting to blackmailing this student into sleeping with me in
order to get a passing grade. I abused my power and took advantage of a
young and impressionable girl. I asked her for sexual favors in exchange for
a passing grade and pressured her into sleeping with me. I’m taking full
responsibility and blame for everything that transpired between us.
Whatever she said to you was a lie in order to protect me.”
“It seems that you have stronger feelings for her than you are letting on,
Chase. What you’re asking me to do is ignore the fact that a student agreed
to sexual relations with her professor. You’re asking me to lie in order to
save her scholarship.”
“I am. She’s a good girl, Ron. She would’ve never done any of this had
I not coerced her into doing so.”
“But she attempted to cheat on her midterm; that is something I cannot
overlook.”
“Slap her with a warning, put her on probation do anything but expel
her and take her scholarship away from her. Give her one more chance;
please, I’m begging you, Ron.”
He rubs his hand over his chin.
“Will you be willing to sign a statement, confessing everything you just
said to me, refuting any of her involvement in this relationship, other than
being blackmailed, and offering your resignation as a professor at this
University?”
Am I really willing to give up my career as a professor just to protect
Pressley and her future here at the university? What will Bethany say when
she hears about this? Will I ever see my son again?
I need to do the right thing. I took advantage of Pressley whether she
was willing to or not. I lead her on and it made it seem like there was a
future between us. I let my guard down and let her fall in love with me. I
forced her to do things she didn’t want to do for my own sexual gain. I need
to do what’s right and fix this.
I grab a blank piece of paper off of Ron’s desk and look at him with as
much confidence as I can muster.
“Do you have a pen?”
“Are you sure about this, Chase?”
“I said, do you have a pen?”
Dean Willoughby reaches into his desk and pulls out a pen. He slides it
slowly across the table.
“Think about what you’re doing here, Chase. Is she really worth it?”
I snatch the pen out of his hand and begin scribbling down my
statement. It takes me a good ten minutes before I have a page and a half
filled out. I slam the pen back down on the paper and look up at him, with
tears in my eyes.
“She is,” I say, choking on my words. “She deserves better than what I
did to her. She deserves a future, and I’m not about to take that away from
her. Promise me you won’t expel her or take away her scholarship.”
Dean Willoughby stands up from his desk and extends his hand. “She
will be on probation and have to do some community service, but I promise
you she will not be expelled and we will not take her scholarship away.”
“Thank you, Ron. It’s been a pleasure working for you.”
“No, the pleasure was all mine, Chase. I’m sad to see you go.”
He shakes my hand before I quickly head to the door.
“Thank you for giving me the opportunity to work here. I’ll have all my
stuff packed and out of my office within the next thirty minutes. Do me a
favor, though, please don’t tell her about what we discussed. I’d rather her
not know that I fell on the sword for her. I plan on ending the relationship
and don’t want to give her the wrong idea.”
“I’m going to have to tell her something, Chase.”
“Just tell her that you found out that she was lying in order to protect
me. She can take what she wants from that.”
“Okay, but I’ll need to come with you to your classroom and escort you
from the building. You know, because of policies.”
I nod, before throwing open the door and marching toward my
classroom.
The trek seems long and foreboding. As we pass students in the
hallway, I find myself refusing to make eye contact. Only Olivia and
Pressley know why I’m being escorted off school property, and I refuse to
admit anything with my eyes to anyone but them.
As we turn onto my hallway and start making my way to my classroom,
I can’t help but mentally think back on my short-lived career as a professor
at this university. My future was set and I let it all slip away because I
couldn’t control my urges as a man. Why was I so stupid? Why did I let
things go as far as they did? She tried to leave me so many times and I just
couldn’t let her go.
This is all my fault.
We turn the corner and I can see all my students hovering outside my
classroom door. Pressley isn’t with them.
They part like the red sea, and all watch with confused expressions as
the dean leads me into my classroom.
“Class is canceled for the week. Maybe for the rest of the semester,
please go home,” Dean Willoughby instructs my students, before closing
the door between us.
I can hear them murmuring behind the door. Let them think what they
want, I know what I did was wrong, and that’s why I was okay with
resigning.
“Come on, Chase. I’ll help you pack up your belongings.
I stall for a second staring at my office door. Only an hour ago Pressley
and I were fucking our brains out in that office. Had I known that my
moment of weakness would lead to me packing up my office, I would’ve
just let Pressley break things off between us and been done with it. But no, I
had to give in to my dick’s pestering and force her to sleep with me. I
deserve to lose my job over this.
I take a step toward my office door and take a deep breath.
This is it, Chase. Ten more steps and you’re officially unemployed.
 Pressley
 
I am in tears by the time I reach my apartment. Nobody is home because
Chelsea is at school. I end up throwing myself on my bed and sobbing for
what seems like hours.
Two hours later my phone rings.
“Hello,” I sniff.
“Miss Withers, this is Dean Willoughby.”
“Oh hi,” I say, sitting up on my bed.
“I know you probably weren’t expecting me to contact you so soon after
we spoke, but I’d like to give you some good news.”
“Good news?” I question, wondering how anything could be good right
now.
“Yes. We are not going to expel you from school, nor are we going to
take away your scholarship.”
“Really? Why?”
“It seems that you were lying to me when we spoke in my office
earlier.”
“I was?”
“Yes. You told me that Mr. Hanson did not force you to have sex with
him. He informed me otherwise. It seems that Mr. Hanson coerced you into
having sex with him or he was going to give you a failing grade. In other
words, he blackmailed you into sleeping with him.”
“But that’s not . . .” I start before he abruptly cuts me off.
His voice is curt and to the point. “I have a written statement from Mr.
Hanson stating that he started the relationship between you two and forced
you into having sex with him. That’s all we need. As for your statement,
about attempting to cheat on your midterm, that I’m afraid, I cannot
overlook. I have decided that we are going to be putting you on probation
and you will need to serve community service for at least one year.
“What kind of community service?”
“We have a math tutoring program that we need more tutors for. I think
you’d be a perfect candidate to help out.”
 “I don’t know what to say. I wasn’t lying earlier, I wanted . . .”
“Stop, Pressley. Mr. Hanson has already offered his statement and that’s
all we need. Anything else you say may be held against you, so I suggest
you stop while you’re ahead. We value your future and want to help you
work toward it. I expect you in my office early tomorrow morning so I can
explain more about your community service.”
“I don’t know what to say . . .” I answer in shock.
“Just say thank you, Miss Withers.”
“Thank you,” I mumble, still confused about what’s happening.
“Tomorrow morning, don’t forget,” he instructs.
“I won’t. Thank you, Dean Willoughby.”
“You’re welcome, Pressley. Have a nice day.”
The phone goes silent.
It takes me a full two minutes before I realize what just happened.
Chase took the blame for our relationship.
I need to see him. I know I told the dean I wouldn’t see him anymore,
but I have to find out why Chase did what he did.
I quickly grab my things and jump in my car, racing for Chase’s house.
His truck is parked in the driveway.
I run up to the door and bang on it, my heart beating so fast it feels like
a rock skipping across the surface of a frozen lake: endless and skipping
forever.
When no one immediately answers, I bang even louder.
The door suddenly flies open.
Chase’s eyes are red with tears and he frowns when he sees me.
“What the fuck do you want?” he growls.
I’m a little taken aback by his coldness. I was expecting to be greeted
differently.
“Why did you tell Dean Willoughby that you forced me to have sex
with you?”
“Because it’s true.”
“It’s not true, Chase. You and I both know it’s not true. I wanted to fuck
you just as much as you wanted to fuck me.”
“Go home, Pressley,” he barks, standing in the doorway so I can’t get
by. “There is no reason for you to be here anymore.
 “No, I will not go home, Chase. I need to know why you lied to the
dean. Is it because you love me? Is it because you didn’t want me to get in
trouble?”
“I didn’t lie. I took advantage of you, Pressley. You’re a cute piece of
ass that I wanted to conquer. I never cared about you, nor do I care what
happens to your future. You’re nothing more than a naïve, bitch that was
easy to play with. Consider yourself a chew toy that this Pitbull tore apart
and spit out. You mean nothing to me.”
“I don’t believe you,” I stammer, tears burning my eyes. “I know you
care about me. You have to. Otherwise, you would’ve lied to the dean and
saved your own ass.”
“Get the fuck off my property,” he quickly growls. “I don’t ever want to
see you again.”
“You’re being an asshole on purpose,” I tell him reaching out to grab his
face. “You’re trying to push me away.” The moment my hand touches his
skin he jerks out of my reach.
“No, I’m not. I really don’t give two shits about you, Pressley. You
might have a tasty pussy, but you’re nothing more to me than a little tramp
who seduced me and the whole reason I lost my job. I will never forgive
you for that, and I am dead fucking serious when I say, that I never want to
see your fucking face ever again.”
I stand there for a few seconds completely dumbfounded. There is a
firm look of regret in his eyes. I can tell that he doesn’t mean a single word
that he’s saying, but he’s refusing to budge. He’s doing this to protect me,
just like he did with the dean. He’s protecting my future, and I know that no
matter what I say, he’s just going to continue pushing me away.
“I don’t believe you. I know you’re doing this just to protect me.”
“No, Pressley. I’m doing this because I mean it. I’m going to ask you
one more time. Get off my property or my next course of action will be to
contact the police.”
I take a step back.
“This isn’t going to change how I feel about you, Chase. I love you. I
can’t help how I feel.”
“You don’t love me, Pressley. You’re in love with the idea of me, but
you don’t know enough about me to be in love with me.”
“I know enough.”
 “What’s my middle name?”
“I don’t know.”
“What are my parent’s names? Where do they live? Where was I born?
Do I have any siblings? What’s my favorite color? What’s my favorite
animal? Do you even know one single thing about me other than how my
dick feels inside of you?”
“I know that every time I look into your eyes I can see myself getting
old with you. I know how my heart skips seven beats every time you touch
my skin. I know that my whole body ignites like ten thousand fireworks all
bursting inside of me at once. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is. You
make me feel things that I never thought I would feel before. I know I must
be in love with you.”
“You’re a fool if you think that’s what love is, Pressley. That’s what
makes you naïve. What you’re feeling is lust—pure, unadulterated lust.
Everything feels amazing in the beginning, but until you can give someone
your whole heart and they give you their whole heart back, you will never
truly be in love. I can assure you that you will never have my whole heart.
Part of my heart was broken a long time ago, and I promised myself I
would never give it to anyone ever again.”
I can feel the tears streaming down my face. Every word he says is
crushing my soul. I did fall in love with Chase, but he’s right. Until he can
love me back, it will never work between us.
“Do us both a favor. Turn around, get in your car, drive home, and never
look back. It’s what is best for both of us,” he says coldly.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
I let out a manic sob, feeling myself shattering already. “You don’t,” I
cry. “Please, Chase. Please don’t do this. I don’t want to lose you.”
“Just go,” he tells me, his voice softening. “Please, Pressley. This is
what is best for your future.”
“But what about your future? Don’t you need your job to get custody of
your son?”
“I’ll find another job. You won’t get another chance at a full-ride to
college.”
“Chase, stop doing this. Stop pushing me away. I just want us to be
together. My future means nothing to me unless you are in it.” I make a
desperate grab for his shirt, dropping to my knees as I beg for him to stay
with me.
His brow arches in frustration, and he pushes me away. “And this is
exactly why you need to leave. I’m just going to break you, Pressley. We
will never work. I’m almost thirty-years-old and you are just barely out of
high school. I’ve already lived my life, you’re just starting yours. We’re
through. We were never in a relationship! All I wanted from you was sex,
and I got it. So go home. Go back to school and forget you ever met me
because that’s exactly what I’m going to be doing about you.”
My hands touch the ground and I can’t stop myself from sobbing
uncontrollably. I can barely catch my breath as each sob wrecks my core
even more.
“Please don’t do this.”
“Goodbye, Pressley.”
“Chase, no!” I screech, as he takes a step back into his house. I see his
lip twitch slightly, and tears briefly well up his eyes before he blinks them
away and his face turns cold once more.
“Get off my property, Miss Withers, or else I’m calling the police.” He
slams the door in my face.
I spend the next ten minutes sitting on his doorstep sobbing like an
idiot, hoping that he will come to the door and pick me up from the puddle
of sorrow he’s turned me into.
The door never opens again after that.
It takes every ounce of my strength to pick myself up off his cement and
drag myself back to my car.
 

 
I didn’t know it then, but those were the last words Chase Hanson
would ever say to me. Everything after that moment was a complete blur.
I don’t remember how I got home.
I don’t remember walking through my door, collapsing to the floor or
Chelsea finding me a few hours later. I don’t remember anything after
getting in my car.
Chase was right. It was inevitable that he would break me. I was like an
emotionless zombie after that. I spent days just clamoring through life like
an extra on The Walking Dead. It was like I had given up on everything.
Chelsea told me that this was what heartbreak felt like, but I was
convinced that I would be broken forever. I knew that it was impossible to
love someone like the way I loved Chase Hanson. It just wasn’t possible.
 
Two Months Later
 
I walk into the library in my usual cloud of despair. It has been almost
eight weeks since I last saw Chase. Every day the pain lingers. Every day I
wallow in my self-pity, refusing to give up on the small glimmer of hope
that Chase will come back to me.
I’ve driven by his house at least a dozen times, but within a week of our
breakup there was a for-sale sign in his yard, a moving truck in the
driveway, and thirty days after that, a new family was living in his house. It
went by so quickly that it felt like I was standing still and the world was just
whizzing past me like a jet plane flying through the air. I can feel my life
moving on, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop thinking about Chase.
It’s becoming unhealthy.
I have no idea where he went. He changed his number. He left no
forwarding address with the post office. He just disappeared. Maybe it was
better off that way. He left me no opportunity to find him again. He made
damn sure that all contact between us ended just as fast as our relationship
began.
I’m not sure how I managed to pass all my classes that semester. It was
like I was on auto-pilot and had little hope of navigating my life without
going through the motions someone else had in place for me.
I spent a good portion of my weeks tutoring other students, in an
attempt to help them pass their math classes while doing my best to forget
about Chase. It hasn’t been easy, and I’m not sure why Dean Willoughby
has so much faith in my ability to tutor other students.
Tuesdays and Thursdays are my days for tutoring, and today I’m
supposed to meet someone new who is already struggling with their classes.
The semester has barely begun and my math teacher told me that this
particular student really needs my help.
I already know the material. It’s everything Chase taught me last
semester. Just thinking about it gets me all choked up again.
 Will I ever get over him?
I sit at my usual table, rifling through my old textbook and a few pieces
of paper, before settling in my seat.
I stare at my textbook and trace over the words on the cover, mindlessly
remembering the first time Chase and I were ever together: how he looked
when he found me under his desk, the way his lips felt pressed against
mine, and how fast my heart raced the first time he entered me.
God, I miss him.
“Excuse me, are you, Pressley?” A male voice infiltrates my thoughts.
I jump up, banging my knees on the desk, before collapsing to the floor
like an idiot.
“Oh geez, are you okay?” A strong hand steadies my arm, and I feel
him help me to my feet.
“Yeah, I’m good, I just banged my knee on the desk,” I answer rubbing
it. I’m so focused on the sudden jolt of pain that I haven’t even looked up
yet.
When I finally do look up, a pair of mesmerizing blue eyes is twinkling,
staring at me so attentively that I suddenly lose all train of thought.
Attached to those eyes, is a handsome face covered in stubble and an
amused smile quirking ever so slightly at me.
“Are you Pressley Withers?”
“Um, yes, I am.” Words seem so difficult to form right now. “You must
be . . .”
“I’m David, it’s very nice to meet you.”
His smile twitches as he extends his hand for me to take. The moment
my hand fits in his, it’s like the Fourth of July. Rockets of bright light
explode in the skies, and I’m consumed by how perfect my hand feels in
his.
I can’t stop staring at him. I can’t stop my heart from racing in my
chest. I can’t stop shaking his hand.
He chuckles and gently tugs his hand out of mine.
I feel my eyes perusing his body, admiring how his light blue shirt hugs
his body and really makes his eyes stand out more. He takes off his hat and
runs a nervous hand through his tousled, blonde hair.
God, he’s handsome.
Say something, you idiot.
 “You’re beautiful,” I blurt out, laughing at my random outburst of truth.
He blushes, “And here I was thinking the same thing about you,” he
exclaims, winking at me. “It’s not every day that a guy like me gets paired
up with a pretty girl like you as his tutor. Shall we get started?”
Math? He’s really thinking about math right now? I can’t even think a
coherent thought, let alone think about math right now.
“Um, sure, I guess that’s why we’re here right?” I sit down nervously,
and he plops down in the seat next to me.
“I’m all yours, Pressley.” His words bring a strong blush to my face.
 

 
I barely stammered through our first lesson. The whole time I couldn’t
stop focusing on how his hand was two inches away from my own. Every
time he smiled at me, my heart soared and I found myself giggling and
playing with my hair. Every time his finger briefly touched mine, my body
sparked with desire.
That despair that hung so heavy on my chest for the last two months,
felt like it had been lifted from my body by a bouquet of balloons. My body
felt weightless and was swirling with a new emotion that I hadn’t felt in a
very long time . . . hope.
It was then that I knew that I was going to be okay. I thought it wasn’t
possible to forget about Chase Hanson, but sitting there next to David
helped me realize that even though I felt like my life had stopped when
Chase left me the way he did, that the world kept on moving without me.
Chase was the first man that I had ever fallen in love with, but he damn
sure wasn’t going to be my last. There were other fish in the sea, and I was
ready to explore the treacherous oceans of love until I found the perfect fish
for me.
There was no use wallowing in my grief anymore. It was time to wake
up from my haze of sadness and start living my life again.
Goodbye, Chase Hanson.
Goodbye forever.
Epilogue
 Pressley
 
“Pressley Withers, is that you?” His voice sends shivers down my spine,
inviting back all those crazy feelings I felt so long ago.
Chase Hanson.
The Chase Hanson is standing in front of me looking aged but as
handsome as ever. He’s a little bulkier than I remember him, but that
doesn’t hide the sexiness he’s rocking under all that beard.
It’s been exactly ten years since the last time we saw each other. Back
then it hurt that he left me the way he did, but I understand why he had to.
Our relationship was doomed from the start. Not only was it unhealthy,
but we were also playing with a fire we couldn’t contain.
Sure, I wished that he and I could’ve been something more than a fling,
but looking back now I realize that everything happens for a reason.
If Chase hadn’t left me I would’ve never met David. It was because of
my relationship with Chase that I was forced into tutoring. Had that not
happened, David and I probably would’ve never crossed paths.
It wasn’t long after that that we developed major feelings for one
another. A couple of months after we graduated he popped the question, and
not too long after that I popped out our first kid.
Now, we’ve been happily married for almost five years, with three
beautiful children, a white picket fence, and the loving dog I always dreamt
about.
“Chase, it’s so good to see you. How are you?”
He studies my face for a few seconds, chewing on his bottom lip like
he’s undressing me with his eyes. I know that stare very well. It’s the same
stare he gave me when he caught me cheating on my midterm all those
years ago, only now the butterflies have stopped fluttering, and I don’t feel
as drawn to him as I did back then.
“I’m doing good, thank you for asking. You’re looking great, by the
way. How’s your life going?” He eyes the rings on my finger and I see what
looks like regret flash across his face before it quickly disappears.
“Great. I’ve been married for about five years now. We have three
amazing kids, and I couldn’t be happier. How about you?”
 Before he can answer, a gorgeous redheaded woman toting an adorable
little girl walks up to us. The little girl cries out daddy almost immediately
and reaches out for Chase. My heart drops a little when she crawls into his
arms, because at one point, in my life, I thought about having something
like this with him.
Chase kisses his daughter on the head and turns back to me. “Pressley,
I’d like you to meet my daughter Emily and my wife Korrine. Girls, this is
Pressley Withers, one of my old students.”
The word student makes my stomach twist uncomfortably. I was so
much more than just his student and I wish I could tell her that. I wonder
how she would react if she realized I was also his lover, his girlfriend, and
for a brief period of time the woman who stole his heart.
Korrine gives me a warm smile and extends her tiny, slender hand in my
direction.
“Hello, Pressley, it’s so nice to meet you. It’s not every day that I get to
meet one of his past students.”
It’s not every day that you get to meet one of his past relationships
either. I think to myself.
“It’s nice to meet you as well.” It’s hard not to be intimated by her
perfect physique. Having kids has done a number to my figure. I wish my
hips were as narrow as they were back in college. Now, I have mom hips,
and a few extra pounds of baby weight sitting around my mid-drift. Of all
the days to run into Chase Hanson, I just happen to be slumming it in jeans
and t-shirt. Chase’s wife, on the other hand, looks like royalty and is the
epitome of perfection. She barely looks like she’s had a kid at all. Her long
red hair is straight and hanging down her back, framing her hourglass figure
she has squeezed into a tiny purple dress. It’s hard not to be jealous of her,
she’s quite beautiful and I can see why Chase fell in love with her. 
She looks my body up and down before taking their daughter away
from Chase.
We stand there in a silence for a few seconds before I start feeling
uncomfortable.
“Well, Chase, it was good seeing you again, but I better get going. My
husband is waiting for me outside, and he has a meeting at eleven.” It’s only
ten. David has plenty of time to get to his meeting, but I need an excuse to
get out of the coffee shop as soon as possible.
 Chase stands there awkwardly for a few seconds. First, he opens his
arms like he wants me to give him a hug, then puts them back down when
he realizes his wife and kid are staring at us.
I grab his free hand and give it a vigorous shake before quickly walking
away. I don’t even dare look over my shoulder because I can feel his gaze
perusing my backside.
That was beyond awkward.
David is waiting for me outside. He frowns when he sees that I’m
missing the cup of coffee he sent me in for.
“No coffee?” he whines.
“Um, well, I kinda, sorta ran into someone and I fled the scene before it
got even more awkward than it already was.”
David chuckles and shakes his head. “Was it an ex-boyfriend?” he
questions.
“You can say that,” I answer nervously.
“Hey, isn’t that Mr. Hanson, the old Geometry teacher?” David
questions, saying Chase’s name a little too loudly.
Chase looks our way and waves at us. I can tell from here that he’s
sizing David up. I don’t blame him; I did the same thing to his wife.
“Let’s go. We can get coffee over on Sunset.” I tell him, quickly
jumping into the passenger seat hoping my husband will follow. He stares at
me for a few seconds before a flash of recognition sparks in his eyes.
“You and Mr. Hanson? Seriously, Pressley?”
“Shut up. It was a long time ago,” I yell, wishing he would just get in
the car. “Can we go now?”
He gets in the car but doesn’t start it.
 “I’m not moving this car until you tell me how the hell you ended up in
bed with your fucking teacher.”
It’s kinda cute how jealous he sounds. I slept with Mr. Hanson way
before I ever met David, yet he’s growling and carrying on like Chase is
still his competition.
I settle into the passenger seat and sigh because David isn’t budging this
car until I tell him my story.
“I was desperate one day because his midterm was going to cost me half
of my grade if I failed it. So, I came up with this foolproof plan to sneak
into his office, steal the test answers, and pass the test. What I didn’t expect
was for him to come to class early. He had a strict schedule he lived by, it
took him forty-five minutes every day to get to class because he always
stopped to get coffee and breakfast in the morning, but that day he came
straight to work.”
“Sounds like you were stalking him,” David observes, his voice filled
with annoyance.
“Maybe. I was, a little. Every girl in that classroom had dreams about
getting it on with Mr. Hanson—even me. Anyway, I ended up hiding under
his desk because he was going to walk in and catch me. Next thing I know,
he sits in his chair, whips out his cock, and starts jerking himself off right in
the middle of his office. At first I was mortified, then mesmerized, and
finally it got me so hot I could barely control myself. He ended up grunting
out my name when he orgasmed and it shocked the hell out of me. I
slammed my head against his desk, and next thing I know he’s telling me to
suck his cock.”
David has been shaking his head the entire time I talk, almost as if he
can’t believe that I would do something like that.
“And you did? Just like that? No hesitation or anything?”
“No,” I answer reluctantly. “I wanted him just as much as he wanted
me. We ended up seeing each other a lot after that. For three whole months
we snuck around: fucking in his classroom, in his house, pretty much
everywhere we could. Then the dean caught us together and we were both
called into his office. I told the truth and almost lost my scholarship because
of it. Chase, on the other hand, took all the blame. I couldn’t figure out why
he would do that other than having feelings for me, so I showed up at his
house and begged for us to stay together. He threatened to have the cops
show up if I didn’t leave his property. He told me that if I wasn’t so
tempting, then he wouldn’t have lost his job. He ended up breaking up with
me that night and leaving town shortly after that. I haven’t seen him since
that day. Well, until today that is.”
David’s hands clench the steering wheel, before running through his
thick, blonde hair.
He glances my way, “Did you love him?”
It’s a simple question, one that I shouldn’t have any problem answering,
but for some reason, it seems impossible to answer, and I chew on it for a
few minutes before answering him.
 “I thought I did. I had never felt that way about someone before. Chase
made me feel things about myself that no other guy before him had made
me feel. He was passionate and aggressive, loving yet firm. He had a way
of commanding me in the bedroom that made me feel powerful and
invincible, yet I was also powerless and vulnerable every time I was with
him. So, yes, I guess you can say I did fall for him. But love? I never knew
what love was until I met you, David. Where Chase may have made me feel
powerful, you make me feel alive. Chase leaving me broke me into a
million pieces. That day you and I met I was dead inside, but from the first
moment you touched me, every cell in my body seemed to awaken. You
make me feel like I’m your equal. There’s so much love and passion in our
marriage that it consumes me. I don’t want to go another day on this Earth
without having you by my side. I couldn’t imagine my life with any other
man.”
I raise my hand and use it to feel the swell of my husband’s smiling
face. He leans over the center console and presses his lips to mine, his
tongue roving just barely behind my teeth. As always, his kiss arouses me,
and my spine shivers in anticipation for more. David always kisses me like
it’s our first kiss. It’s one of the reasons why I fall in love with him more
and more each day. When he kisses me, I don’t think about my problems,
my past, or anything else that ails me. He taught me what it’s like to truly
be loved by another human being, and that is something I wouldn’t give up
for anything.
“I bet Mr. Hanson never kissed you like that!” David exclaims, his
cheeky smile growing even bigger.
“I love you,” I laugh, pushing him away. “Trust me you have no
competition.”
“I know; I just felt like I needed to remind you how much I love you.
I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re not?”
My eyes meet David’s and a small smile forms across my lips.
“No. I learned a lot from Chase in those few months we were together. I
learned what I want and don’t want in a man. He taught me to be more
secure in the bedroom and gave me experiences that I’ve grown from and
continue to use to this day. But most of all, he taught me that some people
who come in your life are meant to teach you a lesson. Chase and I had a
somewhat toxic relationship that was doomed from the start. Back then, I
felt like my whole world crumbled when he left me, but now I realize if he
hadn’t left me I would’ve never met you, we wouldn’t have the beautiful
family we do today, and I would’ve never known what it was like to truly
love someone with all my soul. So in a way, we should thank Chase Hanson
for throwing me away like he did.”
David gently grasps my chin and forces me to look into his eyes.
“Pressley, you are not some piece of garbage for people to throw away.
You, my beautiful wife, are a treasure meant to be kept and cherished. You
will never have to worry about me throwing you away because I keep my
treasures forever.”
“That right there, Mr. Thomas, is why Mr. Hanson isn’t competition for
you. You are by far, ten times the man he will ever be, and I thank God
every day that he brought you into my life.”
We share one more quick kiss before pulling away from the coffee shop.
 
That was the last time I ever saw Chase Hanson.
 Chase
“That was her wasn’t it?” Korinne asks, as my Little Cheater speeds
away like Sonic the Hedgehog.
Emily is wiggling in her arms, crying for me to pick her up, but I can
barely move.
The last person I expected to run into was Pressley Withers. She looks
more like a woman now. Her hips even more sinful than when we last saw
each other; so curvy and wide, perfecting her hourglass figure with a few
extra pounds. I like her with more weight on her; everything about her now
is grown up and gorgeous. Sure, Korinne is the epitome of beauty. I love
her. I love her with every ounce of my being, but deep down somewhere in
the back of my mind I’ve never stopped thinking about Pressley Withers
and wondering what would have happened if I had changed my mind all
those years ago.
“Chase?” Korinne yells a little louder. This time she raises her voice.
Pressley has this uncanny way of stopping my whole world. I remember
exactly what it felt like to hold her in my arms and kiss her until she was
left breathless. All those feelings of lust and desire came rushing back at me
like a linebacker crashing into the offensive line. Those feelings only lasted
a few seconds because my beautiful wife was standing only a few feet
away.
“Sorry. I must’ve checked out for a minute.”
Korrine cups my face and forces me to look into her eyes. “Was that
her?”
“Her who?”
“The student that got you fired from the college Geometry position you
had? You told me before that you got fired because you crossed a line with
a student. Was that her?”
There’s a part of me that wishes I could keep secrets from my wife, but
in the last three years of our marriage, she can see right through my lies like
an open window.
“Yes, that was her.”
“I knew it! I could tell by the way she was staring at you that you two
had been intimate before. She’s quite beautiful.”
 If our marriage was complicated, then admitting another woman’s
beauty would probably get my dick chopped off, but Korrine knows she has
no competition; even Pressley Withers can’t compete with her.
“She definitely is, but she’s also not you.” I kiss Korinne on her
forehead, brushing her freckled skin with my chapped lips.
We walk out of the building with coffee cups in hand. Emily is walking
between us, using our free hands to swing like a monkey.
“How did it happen?” Korinne asks as we cross the street.
“How did what happen?” I ask.
“Hey isn’t that Mr. Hanson the old Geometry teacher?” A man says to
our left. I glance over my shoulder and see Pressley standing by a car with a
tall, good-looking man that looks vaguely familiar.
I wave to them, while absent-mindedly, sizing up this man that stole her
heart. I can’t help feeling a pang of jealousy. I could’ve had that. I could’ve
been the one that married Pressley all those years ago. We could’ve had a
family together with three beautiful kids, just like she said. None of that
matters now. What happened back then happened for a reason, and now I
had my own family to be proud of. Sure, it took me years to find Korinne,
but I wouldn’t give up what I have with her, and our daughter, for anything.
I even get to see Darren every once in a while. He’s much older now,
almost ready to graduate high school. He lives in Florida with his mother,
but sometimes he comes to visit during the holidays. Emily absolutely
adores him.
I never thought I would have any more kids. I thought Darren would be
the only child I would ever have, but then I met Korinne at a bar and she
swept me off my feet. I instantly fell for her poise and confidence. She
walked straight up to me and said, “You have a sexy beard. Mind if I sit on
your face and take it for a spin?” After that, I was a goner.
I asked her to marry me after only six months of dating, and when she
revealed she was pregnant a year into our marriage, I must admit, I was a
bit terrified. I was in my late thirties, and the thought of having a child
again scared the crap out of me. Korrine is eight years younger than me and
had never had a child, so I wasn’t about to take that away from her no
matter how scared I was.
Nine months later we had Emily, and my life has been a whirlwind of
bliss ever since. I didn’t think anything could disturb that happiness, but
seeing Pressley today definitely brought back some feelings I had
suppressed.
Korrine smacks my arm. “Will you stop staring at her and tell me what
happened? I’m starting to get a little jealous, and you know damn well
green is not my color,” she jokes.
“It’s a long story. Basically, from the moment she stepped foot in my
classroom, I became obsessed with her. I had very intense sexual dreams
about her and I being together, and it was getting to the point I couldn’t
control them. Then one day, I went to my office early to try to alleviate
some of my sexual frustrations. . .”
“Wait, you were masturbating in your office?” Korrine asks, laughing.
“Hey, don’t judge. Aren’t you the woman whose opening line was nice
beard mind if I sit on your face?”
She laughs, “It sure was. When I want something, I go for it.”
Luckily, Emily has no idea what we are talking about; otherwise, I
might be a little less forthcoming with this story.
“Anyway, as it turns out, Pressley was hiding under my desk.”
“Why?”
“She was trying to cheat on her midterm.”
“Dang, that’s crazy!”
“No, what’s crazy is that she picked the exact day I decided to
masturbate in my classroom, and just so happened to yell out her name as I
was about to finish.”
“You didn’t,” she gasps.
“I did.”
We arrive at our car, and Korinne buckles Emily in her booster seat and
starts a movie on the DVD player. We place our cups on the top of the car
and continue our conversation while Emily watches the movie.
“So, then what happened,” she asks, taking a sip of her coffee.
This is where I start feeling guilty.
“I told her that if she didn’t suck my dick, I would go to the dean and
tell him I caught her cheating.”
“Shit, that’s messed up, Chase.”
“I’m not proud of it.”
I look back over my shoulder, but Pressley and her husband have driven
off.
 “I spent the next month or so fucking her and messing with her mind.
She started developing feelings for me, and I didn’t want that. Then one day
she tried to break the relationship off, and I didn’t want that to happen, even
though I knew that’s what we needed. I should’ve just let her leave, instead,
I forced her to have sex with me in my office, despite the fact that she was
clearly telling me no and wanting to leave.”
“You raped her?”
I cringe.
“No, I just convinced her to sleep with me, even though she and I both
knew it was a bad idea. The dean ended up walking in on us, and the rest, as
they say, is history. I lost my job, and I begged for him to allow her to stay
at school and keep her scholarship. He was about to expel her and make her
pay everything back.”
“So, you took the blame.”
“I did.”
“Wow, I don’t even know what to say. Did you love her?”
I shake my head. “I liked her a lot, but I’ve only loved four women in
my lifetime: My mother, Bethany, and now you and our little Emily.”
Korinne gives me a warm smile.
“Why didn’t you stay with her?”
“Because the dean told me her future with the university was dependent
on her staying away from me. She showed up on my doorstep later that day,
but I . . .”
“You pushed her away.”
“Yes.”
Korinne shakes her head and slowly walks around the car until she’s
standing next to me.
“Should I be jealous that you just saw your favorite student?” she asks
coyly.
Her red hair blows wildly in the breeze. I’m in awe of her radiance. I
love every inch of this woman, from her freckled face to those knobby
knees I’ve grown so fond of.
“I saw the way you were looking at her, Chase. Whether you want to
admit it or not, you more than liked her.”
I fit my hand around her waist, bringing her into me.
 “I’ll admit that I was a bit taken aback when I saw her. Pressley was an
unhealthy obsession and it’s hard to break obsessions once you have them.
But it’s been ten years. She’s now my past, and you and our beautiful
daughter are my future. When Pressley came into my life, she wrecked
everything I had ever worked for. I lost my job, my house, my son. I had to
pick everything up and start over somewhere new. I spent the next few
years, drinking and wallowing in my mistakes, thinking that the only way
out was to take my own life. Then you popped into my life and saved me
from the dark path I was going down. You helped me recover from
alcoholism. You saved me from harming myself. My life was filled with so
much darkness that I thought I would never step out into the light again.
You raised me up from the pits of despair and helped me see rainbows
again. You showed me that it was okay to open my heart and risk it being
broken again. You taught me to love again. Pressley was nothing more than
the wrecking ball that demolished my livelihood, but you, Korinne, you
were the one who sorted through the pieces and put me back together
again.”
Korinne’s eyes water. “You’ve always been so good with words,” she
exclaims, kissing me passionately and ferociously. “I don’t think I could
ever love you more than I already do.”
I hug her tightly; embracing the strength just being next to her brings to
me.
She kisses me one last time and wipes a few stray tears from her cheeks
before breaking away. “We better get going; we promised Emily we’d play
at the park today.”
“Right,” I agree, grabbing her hand as she tries to pull away.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
I smile and tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I just wanted to say
I love you and thank you for putting this Humpty Dumpty back together
again.”
She smacks my arm and laughs, “I love you, too, you big goof.”
I squeeze her hand bring it my lips kissing it gently. Then I watch as my
beautiful wife skips around the car, grabs her coffee, and disappears in the
passenger seat.
I take a few seconds to compose myself.
 Seeing Pressley definitely brought back some unwanted feelings. She
reminded me of everything bad that happened to me that year.
But those feelings of lust and desire filtered in as well. It’s obvious that
I fell in more than just like with her. I did fall for Pressley back then, and
even though she will always be My Little Cheater, I know that letting her
go was the healthiest thing for both of us. Sure, I spiraled after we broke up,
but that was more because of my own demons than hers. If anything, I need
to thank Pressley. If it wasn’t for her, I would’ve never met Korinne or had
Emily.
Besides, who knows where we would’ve ended up if we had stayed
together all those years ago? We were in a toxic relationship and it was only
a matter of time before a giant nuke blasted through our bond and
demolished it forever. We just happened to beat it to the punch.
So, as I stare out into the distance, remembering all those moments I
shared with Pressley, I find myself thankful that I had the opportunity to see
her one last time. At least now I know that she’s made a life for herself.
She’s successful, married, and happy. That’s all I ever wanted for her. It’s
exactly why I pushed her away all those years ago.
But I must admit that somewhere deep down inside of me, locked away
in some hidden compartment of my heart, is a tiny space I saved just for
Pressley Withers. It’s small, and I can barely feel it, but my life wouldn’t be
what it is today if My Little Cheater hadn’t come in and turned it all upside
down. That’s why there will always be a special little place reserved in my
heart just for her.
Goodbye Pressley Withers.
Goodbye Forever.
 
 
 
THE END
 
Acknowledgments:
 

I have a few acknowledgments for this book that I would like to share. 
 
Fancy: Thank you for helping me get this book out. You know as well as I do how hard life can be
when you’re dealing with a child who has cancer. You’ve been my go-to person when it comes to all
my questions and never got annoyed with me.  Now you’ve helped me polish my book as well.
Thank you for being such an amazing friend, and inspiration. Love you, girl!
 
Annelise: Thank you so much for gifting me this awesome cover. It definitely captures, Chase and
Pressley’s story, and if it wasn’t for you, I probably wouldn’t have found such a perfect cover for my
book. Thanks for being my ear, my encourager, and always being there when I need a good friend.  I
love you!
 
Tracie: Thank you for putting the cover of this book together for me.  I absolutely adore it and love
your work.  You are an amazing graphic artist. If you’re looking for a pre-made cover, make sure to
check out Tracie Douglas, at Dark Water Covers.
 
To my beta readers Anita, Bre, and DiAnne: thank you for reading through the crazy first draft of
this book. Books are crazy, especially in the rawest form, but I’m thankful to have ladies like you in
my corner, that will help polish it up and give me feedback.
 
My Keepers: Thank you for all your support and sticking by me in this transitional stage of my life.
I’m so thankful to have such wonderful people to call my friends and hope to one day meet every
single one of you in person and give you a big ole’ hug.  Love you all.
 
And finally,
 
To you, the reader: Thank you for taking a chance on His Little Cheater. I hope you enjoyed Chase
and Pressley’s story and will stick around for Scott, Finn, and Ryker’s story as well.  Your constant
support means the world to me and my family. 
 
Laugh, Love, and Write
V. Kelly
 
About the Author

V. Kelly grew up in Reno, Nevada, but now lives in Watonga, Oklahoma, with
her husband and two beautiful kids. Always a writer, it was only a matter of time before the stories in
her head escaped and became available for the world to read. She is a lover of frogs, otters, all things
green, reading books about compelling relationships, and spending time with her family.

If you like this story, please leave me a review on Goodreads or Amazon! Every review helps.
 
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