Teacher’s Pet

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Mine, don’t copy. There’ll be love and sex, obviously. Consider this a token of apology for going MIA for so long, but real life has a way of doing that to you. Anyhow, I hope you like it and that it was at least worth the wait. Thanks for reading, and please send your comments to the address in my profile.

You know how much I love them.


It was a day like any other day; the sun was shining, the sky was blue, not a cloud in sight. Seems like the best opening for the type of story I’m about to tell, or rather, is it the worst opening? I guess I’ll just let you judge for yourselves. I was on my way to campus and it indeed was a day like any other day. I was walking slowly, calmly, a serene, serious look covering my features as I looked at no one in particular. Squinting to keep the strong rays of the sun away as much as possible, I plowed my way through the throngs of people until I reached the entrance to my building.

I study in a really beautiful looking building; it’s new and it’s surrounded by walls of glass. I just love the light that comes through, bathing everything golden, making you feel all warm and fuzzy even if you don’t really feel like going into any of your classes. That morning I had two classes. Both were to be with favorite teachers. What can I say, I’m your ultimate geek — a geek that knows how to strut her stuff, that is. I love and adore all my teachers, but there is one that I’m especially attached to. Now she is a special case. You see, our story started quite a while ago. I’ve known her for several years and we’ve developed a somewhat special relationship, for a lack of a better description. I’m starting my story much later, however, since this is a point when things started to get…well…interesting.

So, like I’ve said, I reached the building, walked into the elevator and waited. The quiet ding of the elevator spurred me back into action as I exited and walked right, toward my class. My very first lesson for that day was to be with…you guessed it, favorite teacher number one. Yes, I was taking another class with her, to top the seven hundred others I’ve already taken with her over the years, and I was anxiously waiting. You’re probably wondering why I was anxious. Well, you see, the problem is this: yes, I had a very special relationship with her, but then again, I never told you what special actually means. I could have meant she was treating me like I was mentally retarded, which wasn’t completely far from the truth on certain occasions, and you wouldn’t have been the wiser. But I’m digressing. In special, I mean that we had an understanding. I never spoke up or participated in her classes, and she left well enough alone. She would then give me a fairly good grade and we’d all be friends.

But the case had to become more complicated, otherwise I wouldn’t have had a story to tell. This teacher of mine, well, she’s quite attractive. Well, more than attractive, to be honest. Ok, so she’s fucking beautiful. She’s got long blonde hair, sexy blue eyes and yes I know, I’m obsessed and I’m probably biased as all hell, but you haven’t seen nothing yet.

She’s always treated me kindly, always seemed to have a ready smile for me, until lately. Something happened to her; perhaps a new position at work got her all stressed up, perhaps things at home weren’t looking all that well, but she was no longer quite herself. She was grumpier, usually pissy and the smallest thing would set her off. She never actually yelled or did anything to that extreme, but I could sense it…we were attuned to each other. Yes, I know I sound like a crazed stalker and no, I’m not one, though I do happen to know where she lives, but that’s because she told me, and I’m getting ahead of myself.

Anyhow, recently, due to her change in demeanor, I was starting to dread her classes. I would feel pretty much useless, sitting there in front of her like a moron, without uttering a single syllable. She would never actually say anything to me about it, but I would always be able to feel this tension coming off her like radioactive waves. And they would sting so badly that I would be squirming the entire lesson through. You might be wondering why I didn’t leave the course, or better yet, why I didn’t actually say anything to appease her?

The answer is fairly easy; I couldn’t leave because then she would hate me for an eternity, and I simply couldn’t utter a word because I would be completely paralyzed. Every single time I would wish to say something, it would sound so incredibly intelligent and astute in my own mind, but the second it passed my lips, it was the stupidest thing anyone could have ever thought to say. And I never wanted to look like an idiot in front of her. But somehow, for some inexplicable cosmic reason, I always managed to do so.

I’m a fairly funny person when around friends, colleagues but around her I lose myself…I lose my sense of humor, I lose my wit, I literally lose my tongue. I’m also pretty cool around people, but when she comes by, I’m the rize escort biggest klutz in the world. It’s really very difficult to get a person to like you when you keep acting that way. But then again, I do have my moments, and when they come, I lay on the charm so thick that she literally has to run to the bathroom to wash it off. What do I mean literally? Well, twice when I had a talk with her in the privacy of her office, about some paper or another, the second I finished whatever it was I had to say, she would run, not walk, to the bathroom without glancing behind. I guess I have that effect on women. I try to take it as a compliment. I do have an incredibly sexy voice, if I do say so myself, so who knows what secret powers it holds.

There was another problem though that kind of complicated things further; I mean besides the fact that she was twice my age and my teacher. She was married with kids. I can almost hear the collective sigh. She was attached, to someone else, and she couldn’t possibly be interested in me, a woman no less, right? Wrong.

When it comes to her, I have no scruples, especially since I’ve personally met the hubby. How a woman so beautiful could ever marry a man so NOT is truly beyond me, but again, I’m digressing.

That morning I had to present a work to the class and get comments on it. I thought I did a pretty damn good job, but apparently I was alone in that thought. She wouldn’t be so harsh as to tell me I stunk in front of everyone, but she basically said that I reported the exact opposite of what I should have. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. I would vote for crushed, dismantled, torn asunder as though a bullet was ripping a hole in my heart. Over the top? You bet.

When the class was over, I picked up my stuff and left the classroom with a huff, not sparing her a glance. About fifteen minutes later, I was speaking with a friend in one of the offices on our floor, and guess who is knocking at the door? Yes, the evil witch of the west. That’s how I felt at the moment, at least.

Nonchalantly, as though she had never broken anyone’s heart, she walks into the room, actually winks at me and tells me I did a wonderful job. Stunned, I said, “What?” Intelligent, aren’t I?

“Yes, you were great. You had really wonderful ideas.” And she situates herself on the desk in front of me.

Playing the fish out of water routine I know so well, I eventually manage, “Thanks.” Yes, I know I’m smart, my mom told me so.

After being busy fuming over the whole ordeal for the past fifteen minutes, just as easily, I let it all go and forget. Like nothing happened, I offer, “Would you like some chocolate?” Bribery can get you everywhere.

She eagerly accepted. The very same moment I get knocked in the head by my friend who stares at me accusingly, “And you didn’t think to offer me some?”

I grin and shrug, “I was waiting for Sara to come in to offer both of you.” Sara is her name, and she allows us to call her that, being doctoral students and all.

Sara returns my smile while looking at my friend, “Yeah, you don’t give her grades.” She has the ability to be quite coy herself when she wants.

That was one of our better moments. But alongside every up there must come a down, right? We’ve had plenty of those unfortunately because she is so darned moody all the time. I’m starting to think it may be menopause. And no, she’s not 50, she’s around her early 40s. Hey, I’m in my late 20s, so don’t judge. I’m quite old enough, thank you very much.

Now that I think back to that moment, all I wanted to do was throw my friend out of the room, step in between those sexily dangling legs and ravish her. But I knew that would be impossible. Our relationship hadn’t advanced in so many years, I couldn’t even call her my friend. She was simply out of reach, completely and absolutely unattainable. And I was a jackass every time she got near, who the heck could blame her?

Allow me to move this story forward a bit. The lessons continued, I still couldn’t participate and I could feel us drifting even further apart. One day before class, I couldn’t take the state of things as they had become, so I went to her office. Knocking on her door without the slightest idea of what I would tell her, my mouth immediately clamped shut when the door was pulled open. No grand idea popping into my head, I just smiled goofily and said hi.

Sara has this evil little smirk that appears on her luscious lips from time to time, but she always aims it at me. I just know it. Whenever she speaks to me or about me, she would get this tiny smirk at the corner of her lips that would make my entire body tingle.

The smirk made its appearance, “Hi.”

Still not having the darndest idea of what I was doing there, I just stood and smiled. After a minute or so, she frowned a bit, “Nick, are you ok?”

Nodding like a rag doll I replied, “Oh yes, I’m fine. And you?”

Chuckling slightly, Sara said, “I’m fine as well. Was there anything in particular bostnews.com you wanted to ask?”

“Umm…” I mumbled like an idiot, “I wanted to ask something but I just can’t seem to remember what.”

This time a full laugh burst from her lips; even her laugh is cute. “Oooook.”

So I ended up walking her to the elevator heading to our classroom. Again, I should remind you that I am quite suave when it comes to people, any people, but with her something happens to me that I can’t explain. Trying to be cute and coy, I tell her, “You look nice like that,” pointing toward her light blue skirt and dark blue blouse.

She actually looked a bit uncomfortable, but later on, I noticed that on special occasions she came wearing the exact same outfit. Coincidence? I think not.

A “get together” was coming up that was to be thrown in her house. I was thrilled, to say the least. I would finally be able to see her house, her family, a different side of her. The night finally came and most of the department was there. She has a beautiful house, spacious and tastefully decorated. She was being the sweet hostess, trying to talk with everybody, making sure not to have anyone feeling left out. I was wearing my best pair of jeans and a tight black shirt that showed off my muscles pretty well. I work out, but I’m not scary looking or anything. I like to keep myself in shape, and I love the way I’m being checked out by prospective suitors, which I definitely don’t lack. I’m tall, about 5’9, have short blonde hair and coal black eyes. High cheekbones, strong, angular jaw, straight nose: I’m the whole package. Anyone would want me. I’m not whining, I’m just stating a fact. And no, I’m not arrogant, I just know that lots of people want me. What can I do, it’s a curse I have to live with. Nonetheless, the only person that I actually want to want me, doesn’t, so it’s a vicious cycle.

I could feel her eyes scouring me from time to time during the party, but the problems started when I was about to leave. I walked over and touched her shoulder in a friendly manner, “Hey, thank you so much for everything. It was wonderful and you have a beautiful home.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

Then it happened. She moved in briefly, and for a disastrous nanosecond I didn’t know what to do. Should I lean forward and give her a hug, kiss her cheek, what? Or should I just stay where I was and smile my goodbye. But it was a moment too long. She backed away quickly, as if realizing her mistake, and her smile became tense.

“So, I’ll see you Monday.” She nodded once and walked outside to have a smoke. She once told me that she only smoked occasionally, when she was pissed off. I took my clue and left. Needless to say that her attitude toward me the following week wasn’t the warmest I’d ever gotten. Have I mentioned how much I hated her mood swings?

After some smooth talking and cute pouts, she finally started talking to me again. She was insufferable, I didn’t know what to do. I was literally obsessing about her, repeatedly thinking of her, dreaming of her, driving my friends nuts with talking about her. I was actually starting to drive myself crazy over her. Something had to be done and soon, otherwise, I might lose whatever marbles I still had. I had to confront her, one way or another, but things were going down. If I’d have to leave the country afterwards, well then that would be a bridge I’d have to cross. I really didn’t want to leave the country though. I kind of liked it here…the place grew on me, having been born here and all.

At this point, I was no longer thinking about her hubby and kids, because frankly, I didn’t care. I saw the guy, ok? He looked liked an ass and acted like one as well. I heard things, and she told me once that he said she shouldn’t eat certain things that would fatten her, and I just went nuts at that. She’s thin and she looks hot as hell. He, on the other hand, could sure use a serious diet. And the kids look more like him, so they’re dispensable. Okay, that was a joke. Ha Ha, you know?

Her birthday was coming up and I could feel it in my bones that something big was going to happen. I was preparing a surprise for her; a large bouquet of roses, a cute little birthday note and a handmade “burned” CD with handpicked songs, of course. I thought it would be special and hoped that she would like it. I had been planning this whole shindig for more than a month and I was sure that she was sure that no one would remember. Well, I make it a point to remember.

Finally the day had come and she was absent from her office. It was the perfect opportunity to leave the flowers and the card on her desk and skedaddle on out of sight. Twenty minutes later, I heard my name called.

“Yeeeeeess?” I said as I stepped out of my office.

“Come here for a second.”

With a wicked smile on my face, I locked my door and went to her office. “Yes, everything ok?”

She smiled charmingly and asked, “What is this?”

I scratched my forehead in thought, “Hmm…it looks like flowers to me. Why, what do YOU think it is?”

She visibly bit her tongue and got up from her chair. “Cute, smartass.”

I finally let my smile encompass my entire face as I watched her come closer. “Happy birthday, Sara. I hope you like them.”

Sara moved into my personal space and slowly wrapped her arms around me. “I love them, they’re beautiful. Thank you so much. This is the sweetest thing anyone’s done for me.”

I wrapped my own arms around her waist and she felt so good in my embrace. I sighed deeply and buried my head cautiously into her neck, breathing in her sweet scent. After a strong squeeze, I whispered another “happy birthday” into her ear, feeling her shiver slightly in my arms, and pulled away.

“How did you remember?”

“How could I forget?” I have my moments, I believe I’ve agreed to that.

“I wish you all the best and all that is good, just as you deserve.”

Sudden wetness clouded her beautiful irises. Without a word, and shocking the hell out of me, she leaned forward, a bit on her tiptoes, and planted the sweetest kiss ever on the corner of my lips. My breath caught and I could feel my heart trying to jump out of my throat. I couldn’t believe this was happening, but I wasn’t stupid enough to do anything to ruin the moment. Of course, a second later, when the moment was over and she moved away, I swooped in like a swarm of hungry bees in a field of flowers. I caught her by surprise, I know that now. Actually, she was too stunned to do anything but stand still as a statue. When I got my senses back, and it only happened when a knock sounded at the door, we were staring at each other with our eyes comically wide open. I quickly stepped away, allowed her to pass through in order to open the door, and fled the room the second it was open, almost knocking whoever was standing there to the floor.

It wasn’t over by a long shot, but it took me about two weeks to gather the courage to not avoid her in the hallways. One day she just grabbed me by the arm and literally dragged me back to her office. Locking the door, she pushed me into a chair and sat next to me.

“Ok, we’ve had enough time to think about it. What the hell happened?” She sure could cut to the chase when she wanted.

“I…ummm…I…well…you see, I…” This marvelous speech pattern filled the air for about two minutes before she interrupted me.

“Look, what happened can never ever happen again, you understand?”

Taking a deep breath and letting her words sink in, I finally managed an entire sentence, “But why?” Ok, so when I said ‘entire sentence’ I meant something that actually resembled human language.

“Why?” She screeched in a voice I’d never heard before. “Because I’m married, with two children, I’m your teacher, your boss, your elder by 20 years. Do you need any more reasons?”

“Yes, notably that you hated it and don’t want it to happen again because you simply didn’t feel anything.” I decided the forward approach seemed nice and refreshing after such a long time.

This time, she was the one who was speechless. I knew it, I screamed inside. I knew she felt something for me. I knew all those signs were real and I wasn’t imagining things. She liked me, she liked me, I felt like jumping up and down and doing the happy dance.

“I didn’t hate it. You’re a beautiful, sexy young woman, and I’m so flattered that you think about me that way, but I’m not like that. I’m married Nick, happily.”

I think it was the compassion in her eyes that almost made me break apart. I tried to swallow but my throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls, all the water having risen to my eyes. Trying to keep my composure as best I could, I got up from the chair. I knew she didn’t mean to hurt me, but she had. I just couldn’t believe how a human heart could withstand such rollercoaster rides. One minute I felt like singing and dancing and blessing the world for being alive, and in the very next, I felt like dying, like my soul has been run over by a speeding truck, tearing it to pieces and leaving it as roadkill in the middle of the highway.

I felt her hand touching mine lightly, trying to pull me back down into the chair. Apparently her soul bashing wasn’t over; she probably wished to tell me that my favorite pet died as well. I pulled my hand away from hers and put on a brave smile that didn’t look quite so brave with the tears glistening on my eyelashes. “That’s ok. I think you got this all wrong. I just got a little carried away, I guess. If you could forget it ever happened I would really appreciate it. Now if you don’t mind, I have some things to do. Bye.” And with that I left.

I didn’t see her for at least three weeks. When I first saw her again, she looked terrible; she was pale, her face withdrawn, and she had lost some considerable weight. I bet the hubby was absolutely ecstatic. Of course I didn’t fare much better. I was overworked, overtired, and over-fed up with everything. In the recesses of my heart, I kind of hoped that our “breakup” was the cause for her deteriorating look, but I couldn’t help but hear her words over and over again, reverberating in my mind until I couldn’t stand it.

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