The Good Student (3 page)

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Authors: Stacey Espino

BOOK: The Good Student
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“Who’s your friend?” he asked without apology. Kaya kicked at the dirt on the concrete sidewalk, concentrating on the cracks and fissures. Mike’s breathing came fast and heavy from the quick run.

“She’s cute isn’t she,” teased Cynthia. Kaya wanted to strangle her friend.
“Too cute for her own good.”
“Well, her name’s Kaya. She rooms at my place.”
“Really.”

Kaya tugged down Cynthia’s sleeve and glared at her. She didn’t need Mike knowing where she lived. He may have been tall and temptingly handsome, but he was just another young stud that would use her and leave her like Eric.

“And she’s starving to death. Time for lunch,” said Kaya, dragging Cynthia away with her.

“Kaya. He likes you,” Cynthia whispered when they’d put distance between them and the guys.

“I can see that. He’s in my philosophy class and he creeps me out.” Kaya brushed some curls behind her ear and peeked over her shoulder. They were following.

“Mike? He’s harmless. Cute too.”

“Fine, he’s cute, but he stared at me for like the whole class. It was weird.”

“It’s just because he likes you.” Cynthia grabbed her by the arm, forcing her to stop. “Look. Are you going to diss every guy because of Eric? They’re not all Eric. How can you find a winner if you don’t give anyone a chance?”

“Give me a break. It’s only been a couple weeks. I think I deserve some healing time. Ever heard of re-bound? Is that what you want for me?”

Cynthia rolled her eyes in acquiescence and released her. They made their way to the coffee shop, leaving Mike and his friends standing on the sidewalk.

****

When Kaya arrived home from work she completed her assignment for philosophy even though it wasn’t due until the end of the week. Doing the essay made her feel connected to her professor, and she wanted to make him proud. She couldn’t sleep if she tried. Her body was wound up tight in eagerness of seeing Mr. Taylor again. A few times she almost asked Cynthia about him to see if she could find out any useful information, but chickened out. Cynthia wouldn’t understand her attraction to an older man. Her teacher. She didn’t understand it herself. At twenty-six she was crushing. Must be part of rebound sickness. There was no other way to explain her feelings.

That night Kaya had a fitful sleep, her skin crawling and pussy aching. She dozed off briefly, but then decided she had to see Mr. Taylor. His image was burned into her mind—those soulful blue eyes, sexy smirk, and fit body. She took a taxi to the school, the grounds blackened with no outdoor lighting. The only light on in the school was Mr. Taylor's office. She peeked in the window and saw him hunched over his desk marking assignments. How perfect to catch him alone. She entered the school and quietly navigated the lonely halls. It felt so different at night, no crowds or deafening chatter.

The door to his office was slightly ajar, so she crept in without knocking. She stopped dead when he wasn't at the desk he'd been sitting at.

"You're out late, Kaya." The deep, rich voice came from behind her. How had he gotten there? She didn't turn, her feet glued in place. "I know why you're here."

"You do?"

"You're a bad girl, craving to be fucked by your teacher. Would you like that? To feel my cock taking away that ache between your legs?"

She was speechless. Kaya had no idea he felt the same way, had the same dirty thoughts as her. "It's wrong..."

"Then why did you come?"

When she didn't answer, he laughed. He revealed a ruler. The same one he'd used to hit the desk in class. Her pussy creamed just seeing it, an erotic icon burned into her brain. "Will you use that on me?"

"Take all your clothes off." His tone was gruff and final.

Never in her life had she done anything so naughty. Her body was on fire, so excited to take what Mr. Taylor offered. She obeyed, taking off her clothes layer by layer.

When she looked back up he was only wearing a pair of low-cut black boxer briefs. His body was even more toned than she'd imagined. He pointed to his desk with the ruler, his face stoic.

She bent over his desk, the cool wood making her bare nipples pebble when her breasts pressed against the hard surface. He parted her legs wider with his thigh.

"Get ready for pain, Kaya. Don't bother screaming because you're the one fantasizing about me spanking you."
How did he know?

His wide ruler came down on her ass, a sharp snap of his wrist leaving her ass hot and throbbing. He repeated the action. She wanted to scream, but her voice wouldn't work. Mr. Taylor began to laugh sadistically, sending a shiver of fear through her body.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it, Kaya? Did you think a man like me would actually want a little girl like you." More laughter.

She turned around and sat on the desk, her ass sore and achy. Her nudity now embarrassed her. She covered her breasts and then looked around her realizing they weren't in his office at all, but in philosophy class. It was day time and all the students were watching them, watching her. She wanted to run and hide, be anywhere but the school.

The alarm woke her, ripping her from her dream...or nightmare. She was exhausted from falling asleep so late. Those vivid dreams were driving her mad. They must be a result of her mind dealing with her lust for Mr. Taylor combined with all her fears and insecurities. Now that she was back in the waking world, her desire for him also returned. Even though her eyes burned and body cried out for her to stay cuddled in the warm nest of comforters. The only thing pushing her to hop in the shower was the thrill of going to school. Specifically philosophy class.

Kaya closed her eyes and let the cool water rush over her hair and face. As she soaped up her body, running her hands over her breasts and down her stomach, she imagined Mr. Taylor’s hands caressing her. She'd felt so alone for most of her life and even more since the Eric incident. Kaya craved to connect with a man, to set down roots, to stop living like a feather floating on the breeze. Mr. Taylor promised stability, maturity, and the structure she lacked in her life. Her nipples pebbled and her clit began to throb. Damn, she wanted him to want her. He wasn’t some immature boy like Eric or Mike. He was mature, experienced, and unattainable. Her pussy clenched, demanding relief from the deep seated itch.

Several loud hollow bangs on the door forced her to shut off the water before she even had a chance to tease her clit. It appeared she’d have to go through her day a horny mess.

“Who is it?” she yelled, pulling back the plastic curtain. Her hair dripped down in rivulets.
“Me. Hurry up, it’s time to go,” said Cynthia.
“I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

Kaya took more care in her appearance than usual, even adding makeup that she usually couldn't be bothered with—dark eyeliner and rich red lipstick.

By the time she got to the foyer, Cynthia didn't look impressed. “Finally. I was about to leave without you.” She paused dead in her tracks to give Kaya the once over. “Oh my God. You look like a porcelain doll.”

“That’s not a compliment.”
Cynthia held the door open for her. “Of course it is.”
“I’d rather sexy or irresistible.”
“I’m sure Mike will have those thoughts in mind when he sees you, but you’re my best friend.”
The short trip to the university was still long enough that Kaya couldn’t stand the unspoken questions racing through her mind.
“So...did you have Taylor before?”
“Yeah. Last year. He’s totally unorthodox.”
“What’s his real name?”
Cynthia shrugged as she pulled into the parking lot.
“Is he married?” Her throat clenched and she wondered if she’d gone too far with the questions.
Her friend's eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. Why you asking?”
“Just curious. I didn’t notice a wedding band and I assumed he’d be married at his age.”

The parking lot was filled with students. Cynthia spoke to her from over the roof of the car once they'd joined the melee. “Why were you even looking to see if he had a wedding band?”

Kaya grew bold as they trekked to the entrance. Cynthia was her best friend and wouldn’t judge her like a stranger might. “He’s kind of cute.”

“What?” Cynthia grabbed her sleeve. “Cute?”
“You heard me.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. Mr. Taylor? He’s like fifty and you’re like…oh my God. What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing. I assume you don’t agree with me.”

“Gross. No. How could you even see him like that? Mike likes you. A hundred other guys would say yes to you, and you have eyes for Mr. Taylor?”

“I didn’t say I loved the guy. Don’t you think he’s good looking?”
“He’s old and wrinkly.”
“Is not!”
“See. You’re defending him. You do like him.”

Kaya pulled open the heavy metal door to the university. “See you at lunch.” She speed walked down the hall, away from Cynthia and her accusations. It surprised Kaya that her friend didn’t find Mr. Taylor attractive when she was so hot for him. She assumed every female had to see him the same way as her. To each their own, she supposed.

By the time economics class ended, Kaya was ready to bolt for the door. Unlike yesterday she arrived at philosophy early and took the same seat as last time. The few groups of students present spoke in whispered voices. The room echoed due to the size and emptiness, adding to her anxiousness.

Kaya studied the teacher’s desk, imagining when Mr. Taylor would occupy it. She lost herself in daydreams of true love, something not uncommon for her. Kaya was a hopeless romantic and always would be. Reality slipped away and background sounds became muffled until they drowned out completely. She imagined Mr. Taylor ordering her to lie on his desk, naked, in that authoritative tone he used. He’d spread her legs open and run his hands over her sensitive inner thighs. She'd writhe, raise her hips so he'd touch her where she needed him most, but he'd discipline her with that ruler he used to scare his students. "
You've been a naughty girl, Kaya. Now you'll be punished."

“How was your lunch?”
Kaya blinked and turned her head towards the voice, not even remembering where she was for a moment.
“Pardon me?”
It was Mike. “Your lunch. Yesterday with Cynthia. Any good?”
“Oh yeah. Sure. I hope you didn’t get the wrong idea. I wasn’t trying to be rude.”

“Never thought it.” He sat on the edge of her desk in the same position Mr. Taylor had the day before. “Your name’s Kaya, right?”

“Yep.”

“That’s different.” He leaned down. “I like different.”

Kaya pressed her back firmly against her seat to regain some personal space. Mike didn’t seem to mind her discomfort. Without much choice, she made eye contact with him. He had light brown eyes that matched his hair and he kept a thin line of hair along his jawline.

The class filled and the teacher must have entered because a throat clearing snapped Kaya and Mike to the present.

“Sorry to interrupt you, Don Juan. Think we can start the class now?” asked Mr. Taylor. He stood right beside Mike in the aisle, his arms crossed. She hadn't failed to notice the outline of firm pecs under the tight T-shirt he wore.

Mike hopped off the desk with a blank expression. “Sorry, sir.” He slunk off to his desk across the room without another word to her.

Mr. Taylor continued to stand on the stairs beside her. She bit her lip, embarrassed at being caught with Mike. She hoped her teacher didn’t think they were an item. Mike had distracted her for a moment, but he was no different than Eric, and she wanted nothing to do with him.

“Let me know if he tries picking up on you again,” he said loud enough for half the class to hear. The students broke out in laughter directed at Mike. Being the class clown, he probably thrived on the attention. And once again, Mr. Taylor was the cool, funny teacher. But all she could focus on was his choice of words. They offered protection and made her desire for him grow stronger.

“Turn to page sixty-two in your text. I want everyone to read to the end of chapter.” The classroom began to buzz with conversation, the fluttering of pages, and pounding of books onto desks. She raked her gaze from Mr. Taylor’s brown leather shoes, all the way up to his eyes. Why was he still standing there?

“You’re not on the class schedule yet, Kaya. Could you see me after class?”

“Sure,” she said. Her name on his lips made her pussy throb. She crossed her legs in hopes of containing the liquid heat she could feel seeping from her folds. He was in a position of power and authority, having dismissed Mike like a disobedient child. Wasn’t it natural to want the dominant male or was it just her?

He winked and returned down to his desk. Her crush made her read all kinds of inappropriate intentions into that single wink. It could be nothing, a friendly gesture, a kind greeting. Or it could symbolize that she stood out for him, that they had a unique connection none of the other students were privy to. Kaya sighed, knowing it was all in her imagination. Her very active imagination.

By the end of class her panties were uncomfortably damp and her entire body hummed with anticipation. It didn’t help that she left home in the morning unsatisfied and antsy. Her Silver Bullet was definitely getting lucky tonight. She slowly packed up her belongings as the students filed out of the room. Mr. Taylor hadn’t noticed her, and she wondered if he even remembered asking her to stay after class. Regardless, she would use this time to her advantage. If only she could swallow the frog in her throat and get some much needed confidence. The new Kaya had to be direct and in control. No more shying away and playing the good girl. That got her nowhere fast. She would take what she wanted and for some reason, beyond her understanding, she wanted Mr. Taylor.

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