Brittany sat anxiously at her desk. It was the last day of school for the year before exams began, her eighteenth birthday behind her. Yet she knew things didn’t look good. Whether she passed or failed entirely rested upon her performance on the exams, and she was just awful at them. Awful at the assignments too, for that matter. In fact, about the only thing she was good at was attendance.
Of course… she had reason for that: school was where the boys were. Where the men loomed over them all.
Mr. Hawthorne closed the door to the classroom, shutting out the noise in the hall before he turned and made his way back towards her.
He was her favourite teacher, for obvious reasons. So big and tall, a fit man who worked out on his lunch breaks, he had a great sense of style to boot. Always in nice European-cut pants, with rich shirts undone a couple buttons, and a shiny vest atop that. Sometimes a fetching blazer.
He wore glasses, but he made them look good, with his thick, luxurious golden hair framing his face. He was twice her age, but always reminded her of the father she’d not had since she was but a little girl.
“Brittany,” he said, in that smooth, masculine voice of his as he sat down on the edge of his desk and brought his emerald gaze to bear upon her. “You’re not about to pass your exams without help, are you?” That authoritative voice challenged her to defy his logic.
And, of course, she couldn’t. Her blue eyes glimmered for a moment before she tried to hide them from him under the long, dark lashes. She wore plenty of mascara to make up for just how fair they usually were, with her natural blonde hair and porcelain skin. She’d tried to tan, but all it had done was given her a cute brush of freckles across her nose and cheeks that she hid with concealer and powder and blush.
Still, they were mildly visible under the harsh glare of the school lights.
“I’ve been studyin’ really hard,” she replied, batting her eyes at him flirtatiously. “I just have a lot on my mind distracting me.”
“Studying?” he said questioningly, sounding surprised with her, his full lips shifting into an amused grin. He reached out, his long fingers sliding over her cheek before his large palm cupped it. “Why are you wasting time at that, hun?” he said, his glittering eyes studying her, admiring her beauty. “We both know you’re not the kind of girl made for that sorta work, don’t we?”
She bit in her lower lip, tasting the vanilla lip gloss she loved, and held his gaze. She played a bit shy, but only because she knew it got to him.
She drew in a large breath, her silver chain sparkled along her collarbone, the delicate cross hanging lower beneath the cusp of her white blouse.
“What else am I supposed to do at night, when you’re home with a family and responsibilities?”
He gave her a crooked smile as his thumb traced along her lips, feeling the thick lower one softly as he admired her beautiful features. Wetting his own mouth with his moist tongue, he said, “Now, Brittany, I’m separated, but that’s not the point of this talk…” he remarked, growing increasingly enraptured with her by the moment, she could feel it. One thing she did know, just instinctually, was men. “We could come to an arrangement for me to get you a passing grade, but what good would that do you, huh? You’d only bomb your other courses, right?”
She paused for a moment before reluctantly nodding. “Probably.”
He was so near to her, she could smell some soft, woody aroma from him, and she leaned in to inhale him deeper into her. Just as instinctually as she knew men, she lusted for them. Was desperate for them.
Him in particular.
He gave her a gentle, tender sort of smile as he continued to softly stroke her cheek, letting his fingertips graze back over her ear and hair. “I knew your mom way back when,” he remarked off-handedly. “You’re a lot like her. Bet you’re just as man crazy as she was, huh?” he said with a bit of a wry grin forming. “You’re much prettier than she ever was though.” His voice grew progressively deeper and sexier as he spoke and she licked her lower lip hungrily.
“She and I don’t talk much about that stuff,” Brittany admitted, but she quickly started remembering the comments her mother had made over the years and it all started falling into place. Her lips curved upwards and her cheeks dimpled in such a complimentary manner, a bit smug with the favourable comparison.
“Take my word for it then,” he said in that husky, paternal voice of his laced with that added layer of lust. “Now, Brittany. Knowing who your mom is, and watching you very closely every day in class”—and the look he gave her said it all, truly—“I could offer to give you a passing grade if you agree to get down and suck my cock.” He let that hang a moment as he studied her reaction. “Or…”
He trailed off there, his fingers curling in her hair and giving just the slightest hint of a tug on the blonde strands.
Her lip trembled at his... request? Demand? It didn’t matter. Her stomach still flipped and she squeezed her thighs together beneath her navy-blue skirt.
She was a fairly thin woman, yet she’d been blessed with an ample bottom and full chest that threatened to make the buttons on her blouse pop open at any moment. Her breath caught again and they rose even higher, so deliciously near to his hand, begging to be touched.
“Or?”
He gave her an approving little smile, and his fingers uncurled from her hair as he leaned forward, his masculine musk so clear and pleasant to her as he neared her. He filled his suit so well, she noted, looking so professional yet stunning as he trailed the backs of his fingers along her collarbone and grazed along her breast flesh. “Or you can forget this silly learning nonsense, and focus on what you were made for, darling. You can come over to my place after class, accept you’re gonna be a high school dropout, and I’ll teach you what you really need to know to survive in the world. How about that, hm?”
“Oh god.”
The words slipped out of her throat, so breathy and raw and instinctual, filled with such longing. As if he’d plucked from thin air just what she needed to hear, and her legs squeezed tight again, her pussy throbbing against her panties.
Her throat felt so raw and her stomach was twisted with her emotions.
She wanted that.
“But my mom will be so upset,” Brittany managed in protest, but her smoldering gaze dared him to tell her she was wrong.