Teaching Love

Hello again!

I was honestly surprised so many people took a liking to this story. I just hope that I won't disappoint the people who have taken an interest in it.

And I couldn't work in a sex scene in this chapter, but I did add a little something.

Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Mr. Rice was completely frozen. He apparently had a mental meltdown because he wasn’t pushing me away. Though…

Kissing someone who was mimicking a corpse kind of sucked, so I continue on with my vein of reckless actions.

I bite his bottom lip, not hard enough to make it bleed but enough to make him react. With a nice pleasant gasp that I was fully able to take advantage of.

My tongue in his mouth, rubbing against his must have been enough to revive him because the next moment I was very roughly shoved away from. I manage not to fall on my ass, but I still looked like a clown flailing my arms to catch my balance.

He wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt in a panicked manner. Uh-oh. I might have gone too far.

“What the hell Phyllis?!” He’s staring at me like I’m the one having a mental break down. I’m over mine already, sheezes. And it’s totally his fault that I was pushed into forcefully French kissing him. Completely. You can’t expect self-control from a male teenager who’s losing a war against his hormones.

I decide to tell him as much. “It’s your fault.” I enforced the statement by crossing my arms over my chest and lifting my chin defiantly.

He gapes at me for a moment before he stumbled out a few syllables. Then he just gives up and walks back over to his chair. He pretty much collapsed into the chair.

He’s quiet for a long moment. “How is this, my fault?” He sounded downright strained. Like he might snap based on my answers. His eyes are dark with frustration.

No one has ever managed to get under Mr. Rice’s skin like this. To see him frustrated. It makes him seem breakable. I wonder, if I played my cards right…

I’m interrupted by my name be growled. “Phyllis, I want an answer.”

Oh god. A growl in that voice. That commanding tone.

My mind is so in the gutter I can’t think of any other response other then the kinkiest one. “Yes Master.”

He wasn’t expecting that response because he suddenly starts coughing. I snicker. This is the most entertainment I’ve seen since I told the athletic girls the boys were spying on them and the boys got caught with their pants down.


“Not funny! Not funny at all!” He stands up to try and establish some form of authority. So what if he’s taller then me. And he’s opponent is scrawny ass kid. I’m still scarier then he is.

“Your certainly are flustered Mr. Rice.” I have a shit-eating grin on my face.

He clenches his fists several times to try and get control over himself. I decide that his reactions are taking too long so I walk over to the front of his desk. I almost laugh when he obviously has to make a conscious effort not to move further away from me.

“Kissing a teacher is completely inappropriate Phyllis.” He goes into lecture mode. Guess when all else fails fall back to what you know.

That won’t work for long. I listen for a moment before I casually place my knee on the desk following by my other knee.

Yes, I am so crawling over his desk to him. Just like in those cheesy teacher/student porn’s, because it just looked like fun.

Truth is it’s killing my knees, but the wide eye look on Mr. Rice’s face is more the worth it. I crawl towards him, and he takes a step back. Which doesn’t work because his chair is right there. End result, he falls into his chair.

Oooooooooooh, someone loves me! I happily slide off of the desk into his lap. The panicked expression is great, but honestly? I’m reveling in the fact that I’m pressed against my crush this intimately. There’s a strong ting of sadness inside me over the fact that this whole thing is one side, but I ignore it for the sake of my own sick amusement.

“Mr. Rice…” I purred suggestively and flick my tongue over his ear.

Next second I’m dumped on the floor with the world spinning around me and the sound of foot steps, which start to fade.

Well damnit. I sit up and pull myself up into a kneeling position to regard the now empty room. He ran away.

I’m disappointed, but not surprised. I gave wistful sigh. At least I got a kiss, even if it was one-sided. I stand up and walk over to my desk. I grab my bag and head towards the door before I stop. I glance back at the desk where Mr. Rice left his bag.

I just sexually molested a male teacher, am I really willing to risk being caught snooping through someone’s belongings.

I’m over by the bag before that train of thought is even finished. I roll my eyes at myself and begin looking through it.

Books, classes stuff, other education crap… Ah! Wallet. I grin and open it up. I flip through it. Not a lot of money, not that I’m interested in that. I smile at the horrible license picture. Nothing interesting there. Then I see photos. Photos of a very pretty brunette woman.

I’m slightly jealous. It’s probably his girlfriend. Lucky bitch. I glance down at myself. “Woe is me.” I’m just about to put the wallet back when I notice the very interesting card.

The card that asks the finder to return it to so and so address. I grin evilly and grab a pen from my bag. I quickly copy the address on to my hand.

And before you ask, no. I am NOT a stalker. I just like to keep tabs on my interests.

I place it back in the bag before happily skipping out the door towards home.

My walk home is a quiet event. No one really pays me much mind. I’m not a bad kid, but no one likes me. Something about me being a compulsive liar?

I’m actually not; I just find it hilarious to spin extravagant tails instead of the truth. Normal life bores me. I’m always there if you need a good story. Or want interesting rumors to be spread, or explain why I didn’t do my homework again, and so on.

I walk into my house without my thought. My dad’s home, but I don’t really feel like talking with him. See, in my household my mom brings home the bacon and my dad is the housewife.

Okay, another lie. He’s a writer who works at home while my mom has a stable job as a secretary for some big shot at a corporation.

I head straight up to my room, more then likely I’ll get an hour before my dad will notice I’m home. Which means…

I can finally relieve myself! I desperately need to do something. After the entire sexually charge event I was put through dealing with Mr. Rice I’m rather worked up.

I toss my stuff carelessly onto the floor with the rest of most of my other belongings before I dig through my nightstand. I toss myself on my unmade bed once I’ve found lube.

While I’m not up for much right now, it still feels better with lube even for just a hand job.

I shimmy out of my pants and boxers, eagerly lathering up my left hand with lube before wrapping it around myself. I give a hiss and slowly move my hand.

I let my eyes fall shut and my mind drift to one of my many fantasies.

I’m lying on my back with my hands tied above my head. I can’t see anything because of the silk blindfold over my eyes. I’m completely naked with my legs spread apart.

I hear a low chuckle from in front of me. A finger trails down the length of my erection and I hiss.

“Your already so hard Phyllis. You won’t last like this.” It’s Mr. Rice’s voice. Only it’s husky and dirty.

“Please…” I buckle my hips up. I want to feel his hand. I want to hear more of him.

His hand wraps around me slowly. “So impatient.” He squeezes me before he starts moving his hand up and down. But his grip is too light and his pace is too slow.

“More!” I demand. And if he doesn’t do more I’ll be begging soon.

There’s that deep rumbling chuckling again. I squirm desperately and start to buck my hips more. “Please.”

He starts stroking me with a firm grip, and I’m moaning. “I like seeing you like this.”

I want to hear him say it. I want to hear him talk dirty to me. “Like… how?” I force out in between moans.

He moves so his lips are right next to my ear. “Bound, spread out like a needy whore, twisting desperately as you beg for me to give you what you want… what you need.” He whispers in my ear. His voice is pure sex to me, and I’m moaning continuously as I start getting closer. I’m almost there.

“And your all…” He gives me a particularly rough jerk and I give a sharp cry. “Mi-“

BANG!

I roll off my bed in fright at the sudden sound at my door.

And I proceed to curl up in a ball as I fell in a very bad way for a guy who’s erect.

“… I was going to ask you to take out the trash, but now I think I’m just going to walk away and pretend I didn’t see this.” My dad is looking down at me from his area at the door. He looks like he doesn’t know whether to be disturbed, sympathetic, or laughing.

“Asshole.” I barely manage to hiss out.

He snorts and retreats for now, shutting the door after him.

Well fuck. That just ruined the whole thing. I moan pathetically and stare up at the ceiling. My erections already half withered. Damnit, and I was so close too.

Someone hates me.