Teach Me

TEACH ME

A Naughty Novel by Ashleigh Townshend

Copyright © 2013 by Lamplighter Books

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Printed in the United States of America

One

“Savannah, you’re up,” Leo says and I shake my red, curly hair, trying to get it to look sexy, but the humidity disagrees.

I do another circle of my eyes with dark eyeliner and pout my lips to make sure my lipstick is blended. Perfect. To be honest, no one is looking at my makeup, but I like to pretend I’m not all tits and ass sometimes.

I hear the familiar opening chords of my entrance song and get in the zone, strutting through the curtain as the music crescendos. The lights actually make it hard to make out the faces of any of the men, but I can hear them, and they are already intrigued.

The plaid schoolgirl skirt is incredibly uncomfortable, since it’s designed to be torn off fast, but I smile wide and do a quick spin on the pole.

“Take it all off,” one guy yells helpfully.

I move onto my knees and crawl across the small stage to his voice. He’s burly and smells a little like tobacco and gasoline, but it doesn’t stop my smile. Leaning into his face with my tits, I unbutton the tiny white shirt and he shoves several bills into my bra. This really is the easiest fucking job.

I slip the shirt off and toss it out into the crowd. Later, it will be covered in beer and God knows what else, but hell, I have a washing machine and it gets me more money. I go back to the pole and unbuckle the bra, giving them a taste. I know what they really want, though, but they need to keep the cash flowing. The song ends and another guy repeats the earlier request.

“Take it all off!”

Another voice rings through the crowd. “Let us see that pussy!” Glad he clarified.

I look out into the crowd, although they are just head like shapes more than people. Time to give them what they want. I don’t have anything on under the skirt, but the way the stage is set up makes it impossible for them to get a glimpse until it is time. And now it’s time. As the music picks up, I step away from the pole, pause and pout, and then tear off the skirt. Dropping the thing onto the stage, I walk to the edge and they all reach for me to pay me. And I’m just getting started. I haven’t even started the private dances yet.

I make my rounds on the stage, collecting money from desperate men, and then blow them some kisses, gathering my skirt from the floor. I’m sure to spread my legs enough to give them one hell of a look as I bend over, and then the dance is done. I collapse in my chair in my dressing room and wait for Leo to let me know when someone decides he needs a whole lot more.

I count my earnings. Not bad. It’s only Tuesday and I am looking good for the week. Of course, I will be exhausted tomorrow, but I’ve learned how to make it through the work day with minimal effort. And then I can sleep. I have a few days off, since I have been pretty clear with Leo that he needs to not schedule me more than two nights during the work week. Besides, I am one of his best weekend dancers and that’s where the real money is.

He’s quick tonight. I’ve barely stuffed the money into my purse and shoved in under my dresser before he’s got me booked for the rest of the night. Big spender, which is good, but can also be a drag if the guy doesn’t want to play.

“He’s young, too. Real young,” Leo tells me.

“How young?” I ask warily.

“Young enough I had to check his ID.”

“Not cool, Leo. I don’t do
that
young.”

“Look, he’s twenty, even if he looks like a kid, and he spent a lot to have you all night. So you will do that young.”

Fuck. I’m only 26, but for some reason, the young ones freak me out. I’ll take an overweight married man having a midlife crisis any day. First of all, they have money to blow, and secondly, they’re so much more grateful to be able to touch me. The young ones get aggressive and Leo’s been called in to more than one private session. He should know better.

Still, I have no choice and follow Leo to the room. When I first decided to take this job to help pay the bills, I was intimidated by the room. Even before I was a dancer, I knew what kinds of things happen in these places. It seems so unseemly and also a little unsanitary, but the stripper who gave me my orientation tour told me about the cleaning crew that comes by overnight. Imagine having that job. What do you tell people when they ask? “I scrape the crusted cum off the floor of a champagne room.” Nasty.

The kid is standing in the room already, his back to the door. He’s got one incredible ass, I will give him that. His tight jeans cup it nicely and I hate that I am actually a little turned on. I never get turned on by this. Of course, I fake it well, but damn, that is one fine ass. My eyes scan upwards and take in his shirt, which clings to his rippled back. Holy shit, this is one sexy “kid.”

“All right,” Leo says. “I’ll leave you two to it. Four hours. And remember, she makes the rules. I don’t care how much you paid.”

“So,” I say to the kid. “Want a dance?”

He turns around and his front is as impressive as his back. That is until my eyes reach his face. There may be a layer of stubble and his eyes are bloodshot as hell – clear sign of some kind of drug use – but it’s been less than five months.

“I didn’t know you danced,” he says.

“Well, it’s not something I advertise.”

“I was just coming here tonight to get out of my place. I was starting to come down, until you came out. That was a hell of a show.”

“I feel really uncomfortable about this, Lucas.”

He moves closer to me and I fight the urge to touch him. A few months but how did I not notice before? His body is unbelievable.

“Did you know that in about thirty seconds you gave me everything I used to fantasize about for four years?”

“That’s extremely weird,” I tell him.

“Is it?” He smiles and passes me, sitting on the couch. “Well, I guess that’s too bad, because I
really
want a dance.”

Although I could call Leo and tell him no, ask him to find another dancer, it’s just a dance. Lucas doesn’t get to touch me unless I say it’s okay and he did pay. But there is something so wrong about this whole thing.

I lower myself into his lap, my new schoolgirl skirt shorter than the one I wear on the main floor. The bulge in his pants is throbbing under his jeans and I can feel it against the inside of my thigh. Circling my hips, I run my hands along his chest. He feels amazing and I am tempted to ask him to take his shirt off, but that would be so bad. Instead, I unbutton my own and let him look at my tits.

“You can touch them,” I offer. “But nothing else.”

He nods eagerly and runs his thumbs over my nipples as I grind on his pulsing cock, hidden but clearly ready for something. In my time dancing here, I have
never
done anything besides a random hand job in these private rooms. I’m no prude and certainly not a virgin, but most guys don’t push and the few who do get dragged out when they try. I don’t hold myself to some ridiculous standard, but I don’t fuck guys just because they pay me. And no one has given me reason to break my rules. Even the few hand jobs have mostly been pity jerks, nothing meaningful. The truth is that the majority of the clientele is just not attractive. Unlike Lucas and his unbelievable body and his thumbs, which are doing something to my nipples that is getting me wet.

“You know I jerked off to you every single night in high school? I can’t fucking believe you are here.”

“You’re high, aren’t you?”

He grins. “As a fucking kite, baby, but you’re bringing me right back down to Earth.”

I don’t want to want him, but he twitches under me and the fact that I’m not wearing panties means he can feel me dripping against the leg of his jeans.

“A blow job. It’s the best I can do,” I tell him.

“I guess it’ll do. But I have all night to change your mind.”

I sink to my knees on the floor between his legs and let his cock loose. He is monstrous and it looks so fucking good. I spit and then envelop his length, listening to him groan as I get him balls deep into my throat. He grabs my hair and pushes me down even further. I can’t breathe, and he is so fucking big that I feel like my mouth is going to tear itself open, but I actually want this. I want it bad. I begin bobbing up and down on his shaft and he helps me keep the rhythm steady. I massage his balls as I suck on his enormous cock and he grunts
as if he’s never had a blow job like this. To be fair, I know I give good head. It’s part of the reason I decided to supplement my teaching income with stripping. I figured that if the right guy came along, I could make some money off it. I love sucking cock, but only a nice one like Lucas’s.

“You suck a mean cock,” he says.

I can’t reply, but I move my head up and down faster until his grunts become incoherent sounds and suddenly, there is a massive stream of cum squirting into my throat. I swallow it all and then lick him clean.

Lucas smiles, but doesn’t put his cock back in his pants. “I am so glad I came out tonight.”

“Where are you even getting the money for this?” I ask.

“I found a way to make myself useful this summer.”

I don’t move, still sitting between his legs, lazily playing with his dick as he talks.

“When I got kicked off wrestling for drugs, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Then Tim Pollen showed up one night and made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“Yeah? What was that?”

“You remember Tim?”

“Who doesn’t?”

Tim Pollen was renowned at Dayton Heights High School as a violent drug addict
and dealer who was one snap away from full on homicide. Yet the girls couldn’t stay away. He made it his goal when he was a fifth year senior to fuck every girl in the freshman class and, from what I heard, he got about ninety percent.

“Well, it turns out he knows some people and there are some ways to make good money if you have no fucking fear.”

“What do you do? Deal drugs?”

“Fuck no. I don’t want to get into that shit. I earn my money.”

“Tell me.”

“Maybe later, but first, I have a request.” Lucas says.

“What’s that?”

“Let me play with that hot pussy.”

“You heard what Leo said. I make the rules.”

“How about this? You let me play for a full minute. I will even time it on my phone. If it sucks and you’re not into it, I’ll stop, walk out, and you can keep every single dime I spent. If you like it, however, well, all bets are off.”

I sigh. He is fucking hot. I know seven or eight years is a lot, but he is really fucking hot. What is bugging me, however, is not that he’s young, or that he’s clearly high, or that he has some kind of shady dealings with one really sketchy guy. No – what bugs me is that I have known Lucas for too long. As his fucking teacher. There is nothing necessarily wrong with it now that he has graduated, but he was in my class as a freshman. I can still remember him when he was awkward and had braces and loved school. By the time he graduated this past spring, he was a miserable asshole, but he still did well in my class. Apparently because he wanted to play with my pussy.

Worse is that I want it bad. I don’t just want him to play with it. I want to ride on that giant cock, to feel him deep inside of me repeatedly for the next few hours – and then maybe all night.

“Fine,” I say, taking off my stilettos, and I lie back on the couch, putting my legs up on his lap. I play with his now prominent erection with my toes and it’s awesome. He doesn’t seem to know what to make of it. Maybe I can still teach Lucas something.

“Oh, fuck, give it to me, Miss Lawlor,” he laughs, and he reaches under my skirt, dipping one finger into my wetness. With his other hand, he sets a timer on his phone and puts it on the back of the couch, before he turns his full attention to my pussy, and slides two and three fingers deep. He wins. Holy shit, he fucking wins. His fingers caress the inside walls of my cunt and I
arch my back as a reflex. I lift up and down, riding the wave of his fingertips pressing on the front wall and triggering the orgasm deep within my belly.

My body is jerking up and down so fast that I’m amazed he can keep up, but he doesn’t stop stroking. I squirt everywhere, my pussy juices drenching his fingers, and he laughs as I come. The timer on the phone goes off somewhere in the haze of utter fucking bliss and he pulls his fingers free, just as the orgasm starts to subside.

“Time’s up,” he says. “Should I go?”

I say nothing, just stand up and pull my clothes off and then lift his shirt over his head. I look at his eyes as I pull his pants to the ground and stroke his cock until he is rock hard in my hand. Pushing him back onto the couch, I straddle him and then, in the fucking best moment of my life, I slip myself over his monster, which reaches all the way to the ends of my cunt and makes me feel like I am going to break. Holy fuck.

“Oh, Miss Lawlor,” Lucas says, “ride me, bitch.”

It’s degrading, but it’s hot, and I ride him hard. He holds my hips and we fuck like I have never fucked. And I have fucked a lot in my life. But this kid, this former student, is the greatest fucking ride I have ever had, and my pussy has found its match.

I ride him until I come and then slip myself off of him. I want him to punish me, to be the teacher and I will be the student. “I’ve been bad, Lucas,” I tell him. “I’ve been so bad, baby.”