Bad Teacher (Erotic Collection) (Erotic Lessons) Read online

  BAD TEACHER

  The Collected Stories

  by

  Chloe Cox

  Kindle Edition

  Copyright 2011 Chloe Cox

  Kindle Edition, License Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re- sold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  BAD TEACHER

  The collected exploits of Erica Bennett, high school teacher, secret sex researcher, and happy submissive.

  Teacher Gets Taught

  (Erotic Lessons: Student Teacher)

  Teacher Gets Caught

  (Erotic Lessons: Spanking and Discipline)

  Teacher Gets Bought

  (Erotic Lessons: Double Penetration)

  Thanks so much for purchasing Bad Teacher! I hope you love it. If you do and you want to hear about my new releases at special discounted prices, you can sign up here.

  Teacher Gets Taught

  (Erotic Lessons: Student Teacher)

  I’ve fucked thirty two men in the past four months, and thirteen women, and it’s not nearly enough.

  But I’m starting to run out of time: today is the last day of the semester. I just ducked out of the graduation assembly to jot down some notes on my latest conquest, one Mr. Paul Donovan, and I’ve quickly gotten distracted reviewing my notes on the rest of my subjects. I can hear the marching band play outside, the sounds of the assembly drifting in through the half open windows in my big, airy classroom, and the contrast between the light, innocent sounds and the things I’ve done makes me feel a little tingly. The case files strewn about my desk are like trophies only I know about. It’s kinda dirty, and I love it.

  That part’s been a surprise to me – how much I’ve enjoyed having a secret agenda as a sex researcher while playing the role of substitute English teacher.

  Well, not entirely playing. I’m a damn good teacher. And my students know it.

  Especially Danny Donovan, Paul’s son. Danny, and his unique combination of arrogance, athleticism, and occasional sweetness, is actually how Paul came to my attention. Where Danny is still a boy, I figured Paul might be a man. Besides, Danny, obviously, is off limits.

  That boy was trouble from the start – a total smartass – but I grin when I reflect that his father more than made up for it. Paul fucked like a champ. It’s hard not to wonder if Danny Donovan takes after his father.

  God, that’s so wrong.

  I sigh and lean back in my surprisingly expensive chair (the Chippewa Valley School District spares no expense), and reflect on what I can’t have. Danny Donovan is a grown man, physically, and he’s one of those naturally sexy guys – not pretty, but just...there’s something. The way he moves, you can tell he knows how to move his body, that he enjoys the feel of it. Just like his dad. Large hands, an athlete’s physique, and with his dad’s confidence, too. But he’s a student, even if he is a graduating senior, and there’s that occasional reminder that he’s an immature jackass. Not that that makes him any different from most of the forty year old men I’ve slept with, but it’s harder to dismiss coming from an eighteen year old.

  Let me tell you, I was overjoyed the day Danny turned eighteen. At last I could stop feeling like a total perv, and just feel a little...naughty. He’d stumbled into class wearing dark sunglasses and a grimace of pain that somehow still managed to be smug. Evidently he’d partied hard.

  I gave him extra shit that day. Called on him just for the hell of it. I guess I was harder on him than I would have been, otherwise. If I didn’t find him so...

  Something.

  But he’d have no idea what he was doing anyway, all awkward groping and thirty seconds of jackhammering. And I have some serious fucking to do if I’m going to finish my book proposal on time: The Secret Sexual Habits of the 1%. I’m going to make a fortune, by the way, just as soon as I write it up. The advance will be killer, and I’ll work a few more semesters to get more material.

  I have it all planned out.

  But I haven’t planned for what happens next. There’s a brief knock on my door, and before I can say “go away” it opens and in slips Danny Donovan. He closes the door behind him and locks it.

  Speak of the devil.

  Danny turns and leans against the door, looking at me. He’s in his uniform, but his shirt is untucked, and the top button is undone. I’m surprised to see a little bit of chest hair peaking over the top. His jacket is nowhere to be seen, and a thin sheen of sweat covers his brow, a few strands of dark hair stuck to his forehead. His eyes are dark, and he doesn’t say anything. For a second I wonder if he’s on something.

  “Danny, what’s going on?” I say.

  And he smiles. It’s that same knowing, smug smile, and that’s when I know he’s in full control.

  “I have a couple of questions for you, Miss Bennett.”

  He strolls over to my desk, one hand in his pocket. Sometimes his arrogance makes him seem so young, and other times...I can’t decide which it is this time. I consider taking my legs off the desk when I see him eyeing them – they’re incredible legs, and I’m not wearing any stockings today, it’s too hot for that bullshit – but I decide that would be an admission of sorts. Let him look. It won’t change anything.

  “You often do.” I answer wryly.

  “They’re questions I thought you’d want to answer privately.” He says, and damn if he’s not condescending. He sits on my desk, facing me, his hand gripping the edge about an inch from my leg, and his grin widens. “Questions of a personal nature.”

  I try not to betray any anxiety, but I’m sure a hint of it flashes across my face. I bury the impulse to hide my notes, because that would reveal that I have something to hide.

  Shit.

  “Really?” I say.

  “Really.” He says.

  And then he lets me squirm, not saying anything at all. Just smiling.

  We’re still and silent for a moment, and it’s like the whole world is just waiting. Even the bits of swirling dust that normally dance in the sun, streaming in from those big windows, even the dust has stopped. Everything is holding its breath. He’s forcing me to make the first move.

  “So what are they?” I finally ask, and shift my seat, about to move my legs off the desk.

  His hand darts out and rests on my ankle, exerting a firm downward pressure. Keeping my legs where they are. In full view.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demand.

  “Relax, Miss Bennett,” he says gently, his grip tightening. “Just...relax. Hear me out, and then decide what you want to do.”

  I don’t like the sound of that.

  Well, part of me does. But most of me is freaking the hell out. But I can’t show weakness, not to him, and not to myself. I have to at least pretend to be calm and in control.

  “What do you want, Danny?”

  He hasn’t moved his hand from my ankle. His palm is rougher on my skin than I would have thought, and I remember he’s supposed to be a champion lacrosse player.

  “So you fucked my dad.” He says simply.

  Shiiiiit.

  “I don’t think that’s appropriate to discuss with you.”

  “I’m not done.”

  I suck in my breath. My mind has shifted into high gear, and the wheels are spinning at about 5000 rpm: I could be seriously fucked here. My job, my book, my career...Nothi ng to do but quietly wait it out, and see how bad it is.

  “Sorry,” I say, all honeyed, submissive tones. “Please continue.”

  He arches an eyebrow. He detected my deliberate shift in demeanor, the way I addressed him as an equal. Fuck. He knows I’m trying to manipulate him, to placate him.

  “So you fucked my dad.” He goes on, gently squeezing my ankle. “Which, in and of itself isn’t that big of a deal.”

  Now it’s my turn to arch an eyebrow.

  “I mean, I was jealous.” He smiles. “Don’t get me wrong. But not that big of a deal.”

  “So why are we having this conversation?”

  Now his thumb is tracing the curves of my ankle bone, down to the arch of my foot. As though he knew how sensitive that area was. I have to suppress a little shiver. I try to focus on his stupid grinning face instead.

  “You don’t take me seriously.” He says, still grinning.

  It’s a child’s complaint, but he doesn’t say it like a child. His voice is calm and composed. It’s just a statement of fact. And it’s true – of course I don’t take him seriously, he’s only eighteen. And a student, for Chrissake.

  In fact, I’m trying very hard to remember all the reasons I don’t take him seriously, but his thumb, working in small, light circles on my hot skin, is making it difficult.

  “What makes you say that?” I ask, and my voice cracks a little.

  He laughs softly, then he lifts my leg by the ankle and puts it down next to my other leg, so they’re resting next to each other on the desk, rather than crossed. Slowly he starts to slide his hand up my shin, letting his fingers dance lightly on the inside of my calf. Each touch releases a little shock that echoes throughout my nervous system, until all of me – all of me – is hyperaware.

  This is really bad.

  “Because you fucked my dad, and not me.” He says, and looks directly into my eyes.

  “You’re a kid, Danny.” I try to say it as gently as I can.

  “Bullshit. I’m not stupid. I know you want to fuck me just as much as I want to fuck you.”

  I’m speechless. For the first time I can ever remember, I’m genuinely speechless.

  He’s staring at me, hard. His hand is still on my shin, and he starts to slide it further, keeping his eyes on mine. I’m still trying to work out what to say when his fingers lightly brush the back of my knee, and I can’t keep my eyes from fluttering slightly. Fuck me, he found a sweet spot, and when I can focus my eyes again I can tell he knows it.

  This has gone too far.

  “That’s enough,” I rasp, and I swing my legs off of the desk, determined to get some distance between me and Danny. I put my hands on the desk to push away, but he grabs me by the wrist and pulls me up out of my chair, spinning me around and seating me on the edge of the desk before I can say a word. Another beat and he’s standing right in front of me, hands on either side, pinning me in.

  “No it’s not.” He grins.

  “My sex life is none of your business, Danny.”

  I am trying so hard to remain calm. I don’t know if I’m freaked out or turned on or both.

  “I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”

  His hand is still on my wrist. He’s close enough that I can see the sweat in the hollow in the middle of his collarbone, that I can feel his breathing, that I can smell his musk. I can’t help but wonder what he tastes like. He leans in and for a moment I’m afraid he’s going to kiss me, but he brings his mouth to my ear instead.

  “I hacked your computer.” He whispers.

  Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit.

  “I know about the book. I read your notes.”

  He pulls back so I can see his triumphant smile. Smug bastard.

  “So?” I say defiantly. I don’t even convince myself. I’m pretty sure I haven’t broken any laws in this municipality, but I really don’t want to find out. I wasn’t planning on the exact location of my research ever becoming public, either. Or my real name.

  Apparently I don’t convince him, either. He places a casual hand on my left breast, on top of my thin blouse. Doesn’t move it or anything, just rests it there, gently cupping my tit. My whole body burns.

  “Your research is missing an entire demographic, Miss Bennett. Specifically, mine.” He smiles again. He’s just cracking himself up.

  “Danny, you’re too young and...inexperienced...”

  His thumb brushes over my nipple, and it rises to meet him. I can’t hide how turned on I am any longer. My pussy is pounding, and my panties are wet. I’m pretty sure he can smell me. I know I can.

  He leans in to whisper into my ear again. “I’m going to teach you just how wrong you are, Miss Bennett.”

  And he squeezes my breast, hard. Just the way I like it.

  Oh, fuck me.

  He shifts his weight, and moves his leg between mine, kneading my breast the whole time. I can’t bring myself to tell him to stop. I know I should, but my body won’t let me. He moves his hand from my wrist to my waist, letting his thumb drift low for a moment, past the edge of my skirt, and then he’s untucking my blouse.

  “Danny...”

  He ignores me. His hand trails down the front of belly, and there’s no hiding the rolling muscle contractions that follow in his wake. Suddenly both his hands are on my hips, and then beneath my ass, and with a little movement he’s lifted me further onto the desk. He shifts his hip, moving his leg between mine, and kicks my legs open, pushing my skirt up. For a moment he lets his hands rest on my thighs, and looks directly into my eyes.

  Then he grins.

  “Danny...” I croak again.

  “Shut up.”

  And he kicks my legs apart, pushing my skirt up on my thighs, and presses himself against me. I can feel his cock in his uniform pants, and holy fuck, it’s hard and it’s big. My back arches a little and my pussy reaches for more pressure from his cock of it’s own free will. I swallow, hard, and his hand moves up to my face, grabbing my chin and tilting it up to him. He wants me to see his face.

  His eyes are dark and bright, his lips smiling slightly, his skin young and smooth. He’s so goddamn sure of himself.

  He should be. I want him so badly it’s all I can do to keep still, to keep from jumping him. My whole body feels taut, pulled tight, humming like a lightly vibrating string. He traces the line of my jaw with his finger, and lets his hands drop to my throat, his fingers still doing that light dance. He moves past my neck down to my collarbone, and further, down the center of my chest until he reaches the first button of my blouse.

  He gives me a brief smile, and then in one swift motion he’s unbuttoned my blouse. All of it. Next he’s unhooked my front-clasping bra and pushed it aside. Poof, just like that.

  In two seconds flat my breasts are naked and exposed.

  “Holy shit.” I say.

  And he kisses me.

  It’s funny, I hadn’t ever imagined kissing him. I’d wondered what he looked like naked, and what his bedroom style was like, but I’d told myself that was academic interest. Every once in a while I’d let myself fantasize...but I’d never imagined kissing him.

  His lips are soft, and his kiss starts off soft, too, but quickly becomes harder, urgent. His hands are back on my breasts, his fingers rolling and pinching my nipples, and he’s tipping me backward on the desk. This has spiraled out of control so fast that my brain hasn’t caught up with what’s happening, and it’s like my conscience has to fight through all the noise coming from the rest of my body: my nipples screaming at my clit, my pussy starting to growl, my skin on fire.

  “Danny –” I manage to get out before he pinches my nipple, and pushes me down on the desk.

  “Wait.” I say, sitting up again, and his hand slides up under what remains of my skirt, his fingers slipping under the thin lace of my underwear. My abs flutter at his touch, and I can feel the heat building between my legs. Pretty soon I won’t be able to stop myself.

  “Why?” He says, and pulls my panties dow n to my knees. Before I know it he has them off and on the floor, and he’s back between my legs.

  I don’t have a good answer for him.

  He moves his hand back up my thigh, all the way up, until his fingertips brush the crease of my leg. God he’s so close. I know I should have an answer for him, but words won’t come right now. He looks at me intently, wants me to know he’s waiting for an answer.

  I open my mouth to speak, and he grins and slips a finger inside me.

  “What?” He asks innocently.

  But I can’t speak. His finger slides deep inside of me, and it’s like I can only fully feel my pussy now as it exists against his skin, where it’s come alive. It burns hot and wet, and it ripples against him, craving more, more, just more. I put my head on his shoulder and groan.

  “What was that?” He says lightly, and all the while his finger is fucking me – he’s fucking me – in short, shallow strokes, working his way around, putting circular pressure on the edge of my entrance.

  I try to breathe, and I shudder against him, my bare nipples brushing against his dress shirt. He takes the opportunity to kiss my neck, and his finger starts to work a little harder, a little faster. I can’t take it anymore.

  “More,” I whisper, my voice choked.

  “What?” He smiles.

  “More!” I hiss, and I clamp down on his finger, grinding against him.

  Immediately he tips me back on the desk and lifts my legs, cradling a knee on each shoulder, so now I’m lying on my back, on my own desk, my pussy served up to him on a platter. I close my eyes and feel another finger push slowly into me.

  “Yesss.” I breathe, and I feel him curl his fingers inside me, pressing on my g-spot. Holy hell, he knows exactly where to find it and what to do with it, and now he’s fucking me with his fingers again, flexing them back and forth, opening me wide while keeping the pressure on my g-spot. I’ve never been fucked like this before, it’s like every nerve in my body has woken up, has realized where the show is, and they’re all rushing to my pussy, crowding in to get their fill. I don’t understand what’s happening.