Teach Me Dirty (24 page)

I raised an eyebrow. “Don’t even think about calling me that in the classroom.”

“Why not?” she giggled. “I quite like it.”

“You can quite forget about it.” But I was smiling.

“Ok, sir, if you say so, sir.”

I shook my head to myself and pulled the car away before I got sucked into Helen Palmer for the rest of time.

***

Helen

I was bursting. Properly bursting. As though my heart would explode like one of those candy fountains, and spray unicorns and rainbows and sparkly jewels all over the place.

I managed to keep it together until Mr Roberts’ —
Mark’s
— car was out of sight, and then I squealed and ran.

I almost knocked Lizzie off her feet, and then I almost strangled her, hugging her so tight that she pretended she was dying.

And then she laughed, and hugged me, too.

“Oh my fucking God,” she said. “Is that for fucking real?! You’ve been with Roberts like all fucking day?”

I nodded. “And he made me breakfast and I slept in his bed, and I’m not a virgin anymore.”

“You fucked him?!”

“Twice. And a half.”

“How is that even possible?”

“Well, I sucked him off. Does that count as a half?”

She smirked. “I guess that counts as a half.”

She handed me the coat from over her arm, and I put it on as she lit up a cigarette. But I was hot, even in the winter air I was hot. I led her to the picnic bench and climbed on up, and I was proud, pointing out the view like this was my spot, my special spot, but she wasn’t all that interested.

“So,” she said. “Was he good? He’s kind of old, did he come like super quick and start drooling?”

I poked my tongue out. “No, he didn’t come super quick and start drooling.”

She stared at me like I was an alien. “I can’t believe you’ve ditched the big V. I honestly thought it would be Harry doing the honours.”

“I’m so glad it wasn’t.” I closed my eyes and I was smiling and I couldn’t stop.

“Jeez, Hels, look at you. Anyone would think you’d won the bloody lottery or something, not bagged an old teacher.”

“I’d rather this than win the lottery.”

“You’re crazy.”

“I’m not.” I laughed. “He’s the best thing in the world. Everything I wanted. Everything I thought he’d be. More than I thought he’d be.”

“And now you have to go back to being his little student? How are you gonna pull that off?”

I shook my head. “I’m not going to pull it off. We’re together now, I just have to pretend at school, but outside of it…” I could hardly believe the words. “Outside of it he’s mine. He’s really mine.”

And Lizzie smiled, and she tried so hard for it to be a real smile, I know she did. “That’s so great, Hels. That’s really great.” She pulled me into a hug. “I’m so happy for you.”

“You are? You really are?”

She squeezed me. “I really am.”

But she wasn’t. She looked sad, like I’d poked her in the heart or something. She stared at the river and smoked and kept that smile on her face.

“Are you ok, Lizzie? How are things with Scottie?”

“Good,” she said. “Amazing. I’ll probably see him tomorrow, you know. I think we’re going to hang out and have lots of sex, and he’ll probably fuck me in the ass again. It’ll be hot.”

I smiled. “That’s cool.”

“Yeah, it’s cool.”

“Is your mum home?”

Lizzie stiffened, and she threw her cigarette butt on the floor and lit up another. “No. Probably Monday.”

“Ray having his mates round?”

“Dunno. Probably.”

“You can stay at mine if you like.”

“Thanks, Hels, but Scottie, and you’re with Roberts now and…”

“You’re my best friend, Lizzie, the bestest of the bestests. You can stay over. I’m still going to be here, like all the time. I can’t even see him that much with studying.”

“You’ll see him,” she said. “You’ll see him all the time. These things, they just take over, you know?”

“Not you and Scottie. That hasn’t taken over. Why do you think my thing will be any different?”

She looked away from me. “It just will.”

I rested my head on her shoulder, until she gave in and put her arm around me. “I love you, Lizzie. That’s never going to change. Not ever. We’ll be dorm buddies, and hang out together, and you’ll be my best friend for all time.”

“Promise?” she said.

I gave the stupid finger symbol that she’d made up for me. “I swear, on pain of death, or never having Mr Roberts’ beautiful, beautiful cock inside me ever again for the rest of time, that I, Helen Palmer, will always be your best friend, Lizzie Thomas. Amen.”

And she laughed and handed me her cigarette. “Bestie’s honour?”

“Bestie’s honour.”

She kissed my cheek and gave a funny sigh, and for just a second I thought I saw her wipe a tear away.

“Right, Helen Palmer, you’d better take it from the top and tell me everything. And I mean
everything.
”

I told her everything.

***

I felt different as I walked through the front door. Like I’d aged twenty years.

Katie came charging out with a handful of chocolate, and half of it was smeared over her face.

“Some of this was yours, you didn’t mind sharing, did you?”

I smiled. “You can have it all.”

She did a little dance. “Yes! Katie for the win!”

I wondered where she even got half of this stuff from.

Mum was in the kitchen, and my heart tickled as I saw her there, stirring up a pot of stew for tea.

“Helen, love, I wondered when you’d be rolling in.”

“I was with Lizzie,” I said, but there was something in my voice, and I couldn’t stop it.

Mum was staring at me, I could feel her staring. And then she hurried past me and shut the door to the kitchen so nobody else could hear her.

“You’ve been with your boyfriend, haven’t you?” she said, and she was smiling. “You can tell me, love.”

And I nodded, I nodded and smiled and then I felt so stupid, like a big girl and a little girl all at once. And there were tears, happy tears. And I giggled and cried and felt so ridiculous that I tried to turn away but she wouldn’t let me.

“Oh, Helen, love, I’m so happy for you. That you met someone. You’re not a little girl anymore, and I know sometimes your dad acts like you are, but that’s only because he’s worried.”

“Thanks, Mum.”

“He seems nice, a really nice lad.”

And I wanted to tell her. I really wanted to tell her. But I couldn’t. I daren’t.

“Come here, love, you’re not too old and grown up for a hug now, are you?”

I wasn’t too old and grown up for a hug at all, and it felt so good, that I held onto her, and my heart was so big and full that it hurt, and I cried. And I think Mum cried, too.

She pulled away and she wiped her eyes. “Look at me,” she laughed. “Silly old fool.”

“I’m so happy, Mum,” I said. “I’ve never been so happy.”

“You want to hold onto that one, Helen. If you’re lucky enough to find someone who makes you feel like that, and loves you for the special, wonderful, unique woman you are, then you want to hold onto that one and never let him go.” She squeezed my arm. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed seeing you smile, and laugh, and telling me things like I’m someone you want to talk to.”

“Of course I want to talk to you, Mum.”

“Then come over here while I stir this stew and tell me all about him, will you?”

I told her everything I could. Everything I dared. Everything about my bursting heart, and how he made me feel inside and all the wonderful things he said to me.

I told her how special I felt when he looked into my eyes, like he could see right inside me, and loved every weird little part of me.

I told her how lovely it felt when he held my hand and kissed my hair.

I told her how right it felt, and how he’d cooked me breakfast, and made me smell the fresh bread.

I even told her how he’d washed my hair in the shower and wrapped me in towels and given me his socks so my feet didn’t get hold.

I only wish I could have told her his name.

Mark

And just like that, Helen Palmer became my everything.

One night in my bed and the girl consumed me. I could feel her all the way through my house, as though the walls themselves had soaked her in. I could see her everywhere I turned, sitting in my shirt at the dining table, holding her knees to her chest on the sofa as she watched the flames in the grate, the tangle of her limbs in my sheets, her hair on my pillow, the soapy softness of her body as I lathered her in the shower.

She’d forced her way through my skin, through all the barbs and the loneliness and the pain, and she’d found me there, cold and numb, and she’d cleansed me.

But I was anything but clean.

I pottered through Sunday with music on loud and the studio doors open wide in spite of the chill, and I painted. I painted as though I’d been purged by fire, purged by the love of a young girl whose sweet little heart beat life into my own.

I was enjoying a late cigarette when my email pinged, and I was smiling long before I clicked to view live. Helen’s pretty face appeared on screen and she looked different, but it was nothing tangible, nothing more than a knowing twinkle in her eyes, and a confidence, such a beautiful new confidence. She was a picture of radiance in a thin pink dressing gown, hair still shower-damp as she arranged herself on her bed with her laptop to her side. One single weekend had changed her as much as it had changed me, I could feel it, feel the sexual little nymph inside her unfurling and stretching her limbs. She held up her sketchpad to the camera.

And we were there, in abstract. A watercolour interpretation of my stained sheets, pinks and reds and creamy whites. Human, and stark, and beautiful, in exactly the way Helen’s beautiful creative soul interprets the world.

“It’s called ‘First’.”

I opened the chat box.

It’s beautiful.

She smiled at the message ping.

“I hoped you’d be there. Do you like it?”

It’s perfect. I love it.

“And
I
love
you
.” She leaned towards the camera, her voice a conspiratorial whisper, animated and irresistible. “I can’t believe I can say it, and it’s real. It’s all real.” She took a long, slow breath. “I feel so different. Like everything’s different.
I’m
different.” She dropped the sketchpad at her side and shifted onto her knees, and the fabric of her robe fell open, just enough to see the promise of her soft breasts. “I can still feel you, inside me… I feel like you’re still there, like you never left… and I can’t… I can’t stop thinking about you, about how you felt…” A flash of nervousness swept across her face. “Maybe I shouldn’t say, maybe you don’t…”

It was so easy to type the words.

Always say it.

And I do.

“You feel it, too?”

I feel everything.

She sighed in relief. “I feel like I might burst, like my heart might explode, like they could cut me and I’d bleed you, because you’re all the way inside. And I want to touch you, and feel you, and I want to do everything there is to do, and I want to do it all with you. And then I want to paint it all, and bring it to life and preserve it for all time, so that one day people will look at my paintings and they’ll say
she knew love
,
and that man, that incredible man, he took her heart to the stars and she flew so high she never came down.
” She smiled. “I don’t think I’ll ever come down…”

It made me laugh, a kind laugh, the kind of laugh that starts in your belly and tickles you.

You flatter me, Helen.

“I don’t. It’s all true.”

You’ve plenty of time ahead of you to come down and tire of all this, I promise.

But I didn’t want her to. The thought of watching her leave was a brand new terror to me, and it came with a fresh wash of guilt.

“You think I’ll grow out of this, but you’re wrong. One day you’re going to see how wrong you are.”

I’d be more than happy to be proved wrong, Helen.

“My whole body tingles, all the time. It won’t stop. I can’t stop wanting…” Her voice changed, and there was a need there, a husky undertone that heightened the pulse in my cock. “When I think about the things we did… the way you touched me…” She ran her fingers along her collarbone and down, brushing aside the fabric until her perfect little breasts were bared to me and I felt the rush of blood, the hitch of breath, the primal urge to take her. “I could feel how much you wanted me… and now I feel alive… you brought me to life, Mark…” She pulled at her nipples, and her grin was dirty and mischievous. “I think you’ve turned me into a naughty girl…” She opened her dressing gown fully, slipped it from her shoulders and it fell to the bed around her; her pale skin so white against the pink material. She was beautiful.

The keypad on my tablet frustrated me, its fiddly letters useless once my hand was around my cock. I reached for my mobile, then continued typing.

Put your phone on silent.

The excitement in her eyes fuelled my own. She reached off screen, and her dressing gown fell away from her backside. I could see everything, the smooth flesh of her ass, the promise of her little pink pussy. She came back on screen with the handset, and I pressed dial, saw her phone light up in her hands.

“Hi,” she said, and she was shy again; on screen her cheeks were aflame.

“Is it safe?”

“Everyone’s in bed… I checked earlier… before I showered.”

“Good.” My voice was raspy. “You’re playing with fire, Helen Palmer, teasing and tempting and asking for trouble.”

I watched her eyes light up. “I am?”

“Yes. You are.”

“I think you’ve made me… naughty.” She giggled. “Am I a naughty girl, Mr Roberts?” The way she spoke my name was barely more than a breath, but it felt so loud, and dangerous and forbidden, and yet my cock twitched, aching for more.

“I hope you realise I have ways of handling bad behaviour, Helen.”

“What are you going to do to me?” Her breath was shallow and needy.

And so was mine.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” I forced my hand to slow down around my cock, took a gulp of air. “Open your legs for me, Helen.”

Only the slightest hesitation, then she leant back against the wall and opened her legs and the pink slit of her pussy looked amazing.

“Good girl.” I worked my cock a little.

A flutter of breath, and her wide eyes stared through the screen at me.

“I want you to touch yourself for me. Quietly.” I smiled to myself. “And once I’ve enjoyed hearing you come for me, you’re going to get yourself to bed. You have school in the morning.”

The thought of her in uniform only fuelled the fire.

“Yes,
sir
.”

And she stoked it higher. Ever fucking higher.

“Fuck, Helen, say that again…”

“Yes,
sir
. I’ll do whatever you want… Mr Roberts,
sir
, I promise… I’ll be good…” Her cheeks were flushed, even in the lamplight, and her fingers idled around her belly button, dancing there.

“Angle your screen, I want to see more of you.”

She repositioned herself, and her sweet little pussy came closer. She had delicious tender lips, and her thighs were already wet.

“Touch yourself for me…”

Nervous fingers dipped to her clit, and she gave the most fragile little whimper. “Yes, sir.”

Her fingers moved in tight circles, and they were quick, barely more than a delicious little blur.

“Spread your knees, wider…”

“Yes, sir…”

“Wider. Show me.”

“Yes… yes, Mr Roberts…”

“You just won’t drop the title, will you?” I laughed a ragged laugh. “I’m guessing it turns you on…”

“
You
turn me on… I just like it… I like you being Mr Roberts… I like everything about you…”

“You’d better show me, then.”

“Are you…” she smiled. “…Are you playing, too?”

“That’s a pretty safe assumption, Helen.”

“I like that…”

“And I like the fact you’re about to slide two fingers in your pussy for me.”

“It’s still so tight…”

So she’d tried. Naughty little minx. My sweet Helen was indeed becoming a sweet little seductress, laced with fairy dust and sin.

“Two fingers, Helen.”

“Yes, sir…” She pushed them slowly, back and forth, deeper and deeper until she was knuckle-deep. I could hear her little gasps in my ear, and she rocked, tilting her hips as her fingers moved for me.

“Have you ever played with your ass, Helen?”

“No…”

“Ever been spanked?”

A little murmur. “No…”

“Have you ever had a vaginal orgasm?”

“A what?”

I smiled. “You’d know.”

Her fingers moved faster. “Have you… tried…” She took a breath. “What things have you tried?”

“Many things, Helen. You don’t need to worry. I’m not going to push you into trying anything you don’t want to.”

“But I do…” she said. “I do want to… I want to try everything…”

“We’ll try whatever you want to try. Now, fuck that pussy for me.”

“Oh God, Mr Roberts… oh God…”

“Harder…”

“Yes…”

“And touch that clit…”

“Yes…” She pinned the phone to her ear, and dropped her hand, and her fingers danced.

“Come for me, Helen… that’s my good girl…”

She pinched her bottom lip between her teeth and closed her eyes, and she was innocent, and dirty, and beautiful, all at the same time.

“I want you… oh, God, Mr Roberts, I really want you so much…”

“You’ll have me, Helen.”

“When?” she rasped. “Please, soon…”

“Soon.” My cock was pounding in my grip, and I could feel her behind my eyes, my little temptress, reeling me in. “Pull on those nipples for me. Make them hard…”

She pinched and pulled until they were tight little buds, and they were wet with her. My mouth watered for them.

“…Now tell me you want me to take your ass.”

Her eyes flew wide and I knew I had her.

“You do want that, don’t you, Helen? You do want me to take your sweet little ass?”

She nodded. “… yes, I want that…”

“Tell me.”

“I want you… I want you to fuck my ass.”

“Again.”

“Oh God, sir, I want you to fuck my ass…”

“More.”

“Please, sir, please take me like that…”

“Good girl, Helen. More.”

“Please, sir, please fuck me… please, sir…” And she was lost, fingers a blur, drifting on her rising endorphins until her breath quickened and her hips began to rock. And I was lost, too, working my cock like a man possessed, and it twitched and jerked and pulsed in my grip, desperate for that girl’s tight little body. “Oh, sir,
Mark
, I’m going… I’m going…”

“Come for me, Helen. Good girl.”

And she came for me. Strained and hushed, her fingers dancing a frantic tune, until I came, too, breathing heavily into the handset, just as she did, and we were joined, one hot mess in different locations.

“Thank you…” she said, and then she giggled. “That was epic.”

“Thank
you
.”

She dropped to all fours and her pretty eyes came into view up close. “My turn next…” She grinned.

“Your turn?”

She nodded. “You got to see me… I get to see you…”

“You want me on camera?” The thought was strangely intimidating.

Her smile lit up the world. “You’ll see what I want. I’ll show you.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Are you really going to punish me for being bad?”

“I’m going to punish you because you’ll enjoy it, not because you’re bad. You’re never bad, Helen… you’re exceptionally good.”