Schooled (13 page)

Coming down, still breathing hard, I said, “I guess this is what it’s like when you have students who go on to Harvard or Yale and you only got into Ohio State yourself.” I ran my knuckles over his cheeks and down his neck. “Damn Briggs, you surpassed my expectations. Gold star for you.” I kissed his chest, tonguing his nipples, tugging them slightly.

“You haven’t seen nothing yet babe.” He had all the cockiness back of our first night together. He rolled over, pulling me on top of him. I sat astride him, as he kneaded and rubbed my nipples. His shaft rubbed hungrily on my backside, straining to break free from his boxer briefs.

I loved the look of my skin on his; the contrast was sexy as I ran my hands all over his pecs and abs. His body was chiseled and rippled unlike any man I’d ever touched before. I used my nails lightly to tickle his stomach and happy trail. His body shivered and his penis jerked, begging for freedom. I tickled the insides of his thighs and began massaging his leg muscles. I fondled his cock through his underwear, but we both knew that this time, that wasn’t going to be enough.

Hooking my thumbs into his waistband, I freed his raging erection. It was large, larger than any I’d ever seen, thicker than I knew possible. It was bigger than that night on the couch; his arousal and excitement was clearly evident. Intimidation overcame me. I hesitated; he groaned. I couldn’t do this to him again, but I wasn’t ready to take that on. I’d give him release; I’d make him come. But I couldn’t allow him to penetrate me now, not tonight. I wasn’t ready.

I positioned myself further down his body, grasping his penis in my hand. I rubbed it slowly, releasing the grip, petting him lightly. His hips began to move; his breathing increased. I began to only use one finger to tickle and massage his shaft as my other hand kneaded the flesh of his testicles, rolling them in my hand. If he wanted to tease one another, then the game was on. I stopped touching his penis and moved to the sensitive area between his butt and his sac. I tickled it lightly, increasing the pressure and releasing it. I traced the line of his crack, dipping my fingers slightly in and around his hole.

“Janelle.” He whispered. It was one word; it said so much. He wanted me. He needed me. I was torturing him equally so. I took his penis into my mouth; he gasped with delight and surprise, whimpering as I began to suck him slowly. I moved as far down his penis as I could handle, slowly coming back up, allowing my hand to follow my mouth, applying a squeezing and releasing pressure as I did so.

With his penis in my mouth, I said, “I know Briggs, I know.” I sucked and pumped harder; his hand was on my head, playing with my hair, not pushing or directing me in any way. He relinquished complete control to me, allowing me to please him as I knew how. My other hand found his; I held it tightly in my own. He rubbed his thumb on the back of my hand as I sucked him harder, further down my throat. It was intimate, too intimate. This was just sex. I pulled my hand away, putting both of my hands on his penis, speeding up the process.

Briggs gasped; I knew he was close. I moved faster, wanting to taste him, swallow him. “Janelle, I’m gonna…” He warned.

“I know, I’m ready,” I replied taking him further down my throat; he came in my mouth calling my name. I’d never done that before, but didn’t want to tell him so. I didn’t want him to know how much I truly wanted to please him, to seduce him.

I kissed a trail back up his body, taking in its beauty. When I laid slightly on him, he wrapped his arms around me. He tucked my hair behind my ear, staring at me. “How’d I get so lucky? You’re amazing.” He kissed my forehead and held me close to him, tickling my bare back.

I didn’t know what to say; I was getting panicky. I loved fooling around with Briggs, but that’s all this was, wasn’t it? My divorce papers weren’t even filed. What was I doing? I felt guilty for allowing myself such fun and pleasure. Women weren’t allowed to experience such sexual satisfaction; that made us whores, liking it was even worse. I felt relief knowing that I was leaving for New York and was going to be gone for a few days. I needed a break from my own sexual temptations. Earlier today, I felt disappointment, because Leo hadn’t kissed me. Now, I was naked in bed with Briggs. Society didn’t allow this, frowned upon a woman finding her sexuality, her sexual being. I just knew that I hadn’t been pleased sexually in quite some time and felt unwanted, undesirable. But now, now, I felt totally immersed in this man’s desires and wants. Why was that wrong?

I spent so much time pondering my guilt, I hadn’t realized Briggs had fallen asleep. He slept peacefully and silently. I stared at his profile, taking him all in. His jawbone was strong, defined. His stubble was growing in; I traced a line over his cheek, feeling the prickle. Could I have a life with Briggs Alexander, soon-to-be ESPN superstar or was this something that I had to let fizzle as quickly as it sparked?

“Holy shit! Nice work!” I sat straight up in bed; my bare chest exposed. Realizing it, I grabbed for the blanket, covering myself and Briggs, too.

“Char, what the fuck? What’re you doing here?” I whispered angrily, trying unsuccessfully to not wake Briggs. He stirred, rolled over, and snuggled against me, moaning happily with pleasure. I shoved him off, embarrassed.

“Well, nice to see you too,” she pouted with hands on her hips and lips out. “I wanted to get breakfast; the door was unlocked. I wanted sausage, but looks like you’ve had some already.” She strolled up to the bed, lifting the covers, looking underneath at Briggs’ naked body. “Nice.”

“Char!” I screamed, covering him up. Briggs opened his eyes, looked at my face, sensed my tension and rolled over to see Char staring down at him.

He looked at Char, looked at me, and said, “Did you invite a friend?”

I yelled, “No!” at the same time Char screamed “Yes!” Oh Jesus Christ.

“That’s it, get out. Go in the kitchen. I’ll be out in a second.” She walked backward out of the room, staring at us, giving me a two-thumbs up. She looked gleeful. I was dying, truly humiliated. Living in this pool house was becoming a privacy problem.

“Your friend, I take it?” He rolled over, trapping me in the bed, kissing me on the nose. “I’m glad she’s here; I wanna meet your friends.” He nuzzled my neck, licking my earlobe.

“Oh my God, Briggs, get off. This is awful.” I was pushing him off of me; he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Why? Are you embarrassed of me?” He looked hurt.

“No, not you. I’m…I’m…I don’t know, embarrassed of myself. I can’t be doing this shit. I’m married.” It didn’t seem like my response helped; he still looked pained. “Briggs, I don’t know. I gotta go out there.” I got up, pulled on my robe and met Char in the kitchen.

Char was sitting on the counter, flipping through an old
Cosmo
magazine; she looked at me above the magazine with raised, inquisitive brows. I immediately said, “Don’t start in on me, why are you here?”

She hopped down off the counter, “I told you; I wanna go to breakfast.” Her curious face turned to concern. “Janelle, what’s up? Why are you so angry; you’re not really mad at me, are you?” She asked. Char had walked in on me and Marcus a thousand times, and even with a few random make out hookups in college. Never did I feel this vulnerable, this embarrassed, or this remorseful.

“Not now, let’s talk about this later. At breakfast.” I promised her.

“Did someone say, ‘breakfast?’ I’m starving.” Briggs said as he walked down the hallway, wearing only his boxers. He stopped, nodded to Char, and picked his jeans and shirt up off the living room floor. He stepped into his jeans; it really was a shame to be covering up such magnificence. He should get some type of permit to be naked, or just in boxers, at all times. I’d sign a petition allowing that. “Hey Janelle’s friend, I’m Briggs.” He waved at Char.

“Char. Nice to see you, so nice to see you. Yeah, I said breakfast,” she confirmed, staring at Briggs in a carnal, lustful way. “I’m suddenly hornier, I mean hungrier than I ever been in my entire life.” Char swooned, not taking her eyes from Briggs.

I walked over to Briggs and explained that I needed some girl time with Char, admitting that we had girlie topics to discuss. He asked if he could see me that night or the next day, but I told him that I needed to get ready for my trip to New York. I’d forgotten that I hadn’t told him about the trip in the morning. Promising him that I’d call when I got back on Wednesday, I nearly had to push him to the door. At the door, he leaned in to kiss me goodbye, but I moved my head, offering him my cheek. His face questioned my actions, but he didn’t let on that he was confused or hurt. He said goodbye to Char and left, leaving me feeling awful and regretful.

“Oh my God, tell me that it was the best sex you’ve ever had.” Char was grilling me for details. I told her that we didn’t have penetrable sex, at which she just looked at me and waved me off. “Why would you even bother with the cake without licking off the icing?” She asked. When it came to my escapades, it seemed like I was always disappointing her, but always going beyond my own comfort zone at the same time. How could two people be so sexually different?

At breakfast, Char tried to convince me that being with Briggs or even with Leo or with both of them wasn’t a crime. Women were entitled to explore their deepest desires and their sexuality, finding their limits and pleasure. I had a hard time buying into it, especially filled with my “good girl guilt.” A woman was supposed to be with one man, monogamously and faithfully. That was how it was written, what was expected. What I believed even, but lately, what I believed and what I wanted weren’t exactly the same any longer. I was struggling. I was grateful to Jasper for his unexpected, but much needed, trip to New York. I could spend the next few days hiding from my life, from my mistakes, and from the men that I was making those mistakes with. The next morning’s flight couldn’t come quickly enough. This getaway plane couldn’t take off fast enough.

As I was packing that evening, I saw Leo outside in the yard, fertilizing the grass. He saw me through the window and waved. I waved back at him, motioning for him to come around to the front. He started walking around to the front of the house, and I met him at the door, walking out to see him.

“Is your brother pissed at me for not getting much done yesterday?” he asked as I came down the walkway. “I’m gonna be really busy this week with work, so I won’t even be able to stop by until Thursday or Friday.” He said apologetically.

“Not at all; he’s so caught up in Garrity Advertising and golfing that he probably didn’t even notice.” I reassured him. “The girls called me today and asked if you would come play with them next time they were over. They’re your biggest fans.”

Laughing, he said, “They were fun. I’d come by for sure. I hate that my niece and nephew live in Arizona; I only see ‘em once a year, if that.” He looked bothered by that fact.

“Well, you can borrow mine any time; sometimes, they’re too much of a handful. But they were definitely smitten with you.” I patted him on the back. “Nice work, Prince Charming.”

“I’m glad my approval rating is up with the 6-year-old crowd, any chance they can talk to the 26-year-old crowd for me?” He smiled, pushed against me and said, “better yet, tell them to put in a good word for me in the 29-year-old crowd.” His dimples were twitching; his smile was contagious.
Holy Moly, what did he mean by that?
He laughed and started to get up.

“Leo, I gotta ask you something.” I said, stopping him. “I’m worried I’ll offend or embarrass you though.” I didn’t know why I wanted to bring up this subject or why I was even going to go through with it, but I just had to know.

“Alright, I’ll bite; piqued my curiosity.” He turned to face me, focusing on my eyes. “Shoot.”

“The other day, you said that you weren’t waiting to, ya know, but that it just hadn’t happened yet. I just don’t get it. You’re really…really…good looking.” I paused, hoping that I wasn’t offending him or embarrassing him. “You’ve grown up so much since your senior year. Aren’t girls just throwing themselves at you?” I couldn’t figure this out.

He laughed, bashfully. “I mean, I’ve dated. I’m just not sure what women want. I can’t figure THAT out.” He said, turning to look at me. “ I’m not just gonna sleep with every girl I’m attracted to; I want the real thing.” He seemed so sincere.

“Girls want the same thing that guys want, Leo.” I explained.

“Miss Garrity, that is the farthest thing from the truth, trust me.” Cracking me up, Leo explained that he spent some time trying to figure out what really made women tick. He even went as far as to read the
Twilight
series,
Fifty Shades of Grey
, and even
The Hunger Games
to figure out how a woman’s mind worked. “And believe me that was the most confusing research I’ve ever done, contradictory in every way.” He said.

I couldn’t help but laugh my ass off at him. Surprisingly, he didn’t take offense at all, laughed right along with me. “Leo, those books are fantasies, well
Fifty
and
Twilight
are,
The Hunger Games
isn’t even a love story, you moron.” I said, smacking his arm. Wow, his really solid arm.

“Well if women want a guy to tie them up, beat them with sticks, and suck the blood out of their necks, then I really don’t think I’m the guy for them.” Leo said, jokingly. “But I could fight off predators who wanted to the kill the woman I loved, and even sacrifice my life for hers.” Man, I loved a well-read guy. What a turn on. Why weren’t women flocking to this man?

“You’re missing the point,” I said, getting into full teacher mode. “Take Edward Cullen for example, if he and Bella were a real adolescent couple, she’d freak her shit if he started telling her where to go, who to talk to, and snuck in at night to watch her sleep. She’d have a restraining order on him in 10 seconds flat.” I argued. Trust me, I knew how women worked, especially adolescent girls. They would never put up with that type of control freak.

“The same with Christian and Anastasia; she’d deem him a crazy-ass freak job, and she’d spend hours making fun of him with her roommate and hot artist friend.” I felt like I really needed to convince him. Continuing, I said, “It’s the fantasy, Leo. The fantasy of the forbidden, having what you cannot, should not have.”