unzipped my jeans and pulled out my hard cock. I spit in my palm and closed my eyes, gripping it firmly in my hand as the memory flooded my mind again.
I sighed as I graded Matt’s paper. I couldn’t understand how some of my brightest students did so horribly on their homework.
The sudden sound of someone popping bubblegum made me raise my eyes from my desk. It was Zaydee Lansing and she had finally decided to grace me with her presence.
“Even for detention you’re late?” I asked sternly, glancing at the wall clock above the door.
She rolled her eyes and sighed loudly.
“Where do you want me to sit?”
“Your usual chair will do just fine,” I remarked, shaking my head.
I waited until she was seated before I went back to grading my papers. I had already decided that her late appearance and less than stellar attitude, earned her another afternoon in that chair.
There was only five minutes of actual silence before she started fidgeting around at her desk, chair scrapping on the tile floor. I rubbed my forehead irritably with my forefinger and thumb.
“Problem, Ms. Lansing?” I asked.
“No. Well. Yeah. Can I ask you something?” she said, leaning her arms onto her desk.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked, dropping my pen and leaning back in my chair.
“What made you want to become a teacher?” she inquired curiously.
I raised an eyebrow at her. I wasn’t sure if she really wanted to know or if she was just making conversation, but I decided to answer her anyway.
“I liked the idea of helping people. When I went to college, I looked at my options and still felt my love of history swelling in me, so that’s why I chose that path. I guess it was just the notion of helping people better themselves,” I replied thoughtfully.
“Oh.”
“So, if you don’t mind, I still have a stack of papers to grade,” I said, pointing down at my desk.
“Sorry. I just hate it when it’s quiet. I always feel so lonely,” she replied softly.
I groaned inwardly. I’d just have to take these papers home and finish there.
“Why were you late to class today, Zaydee?” I asked.
She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. I could tell she didn’t want to tell me, but I just wanted to know if she had a valid excuse and I could let her go home early.
“After gym class, I was in the showers and Marnie and her friends decided it would be funny to grab my bra and yell out the size to everyone. I was so embarrassed that I waited in the shower until all of the girls left. I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
“Teenagers can be so cruel to each other,” I remarked, shaking my head. “I wish you would’ve have told me that. I would’ve excused you being tardy.”
She shrugged and looked down at her feet. Her demeanor seemed to have changed but I couldn’t quite tell in which direction until she spoke up again.
“Yeah, but then we wouldn’t have a chance to hang out alone together,” she said shyly.
Huh, wonder what the hell that’s supposed to mean, I thought to myself.
“Mr. S, can I tell you something?” she continued.
“Of course you can.”
I watched Zaydee get up from her chair and walk over to the side of my desk. She let a hand fall on the pen I had been using to grade the homework papers, then raised her eyes to meet mine.
“I like you.”
“I like you too, Zaydee. You’re one of my best students,” I replied fondly.
“No. I mean ... I like you,” she said.
My hands started to shake at her confession. I had never had this situation happen with a student before and I knew I had to tread carefully. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings and I didn’t want her to think anything would happen between us.
“Don’t be shy; I’ve seen the way you look at me in class when you think I’m not looking. It’s okay for us to like each other,” she said, running a hand lightly up my arm.
“Zaydee. I’m your teacher ,” I said, emphasizing the last word. “You’re my student, but
I sighed as I graded Matt’s paper. I couldn’t understand how some of my brightest students did so horribly on their homework.
The sudden sound of someone popping bubblegum made me raise my eyes from my desk. It was Zaydee Lansing and she had finally decided to grace me with her presence.
“Even for detention you’re late?” I asked sternly, glancing at the wall clock above the door.
She rolled her eyes and sighed loudly.
“Where do you want me to sit?”
“Your usual chair will do just fine,” I remarked, shaking my head.
I waited until she was seated before I went back to grading my papers. I had already decided that her late appearance and less than stellar attitude, earned her another afternoon in that chair.
There was only five minutes of actual silence before she started fidgeting around at her desk, chair scrapping on the tile floor. I rubbed my forehead irritably with my forefinger and thumb.
“Problem, Ms. Lansing?” I asked.
“No. Well. Yeah. Can I ask you something?” she said, leaning her arms onto her desk.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked, dropping my pen and leaning back in my chair.
“What made you want to become a teacher?” she inquired curiously.
I raised an eyebrow at her. I wasn’t sure if she really wanted to know or if she was just making conversation, but I decided to answer her anyway.
“I liked the idea of helping people. When I went to college, I looked at my options and still felt my love of history swelling in me, so that’s why I chose that path. I guess it was just the notion of helping people better themselves,” I replied thoughtfully.
“Oh.”
“So, if you don’t mind, I still have a stack of papers to grade,” I said, pointing down at my desk.
“Sorry. I just hate it when it’s quiet. I always feel so lonely,” she replied softly.
I groaned inwardly. I’d just have to take these papers home and finish there.
“Why were you late to class today, Zaydee?” I asked.
She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. I could tell she didn’t want to tell me, but I just wanted to know if she had a valid excuse and I could let her go home early.
“After gym class, I was in the showers and Marnie and her friends decided it would be funny to grab my bra and yell out the size to everyone. I was so embarrassed that I waited in the shower until all of the girls left. I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
“Teenagers can be so cruel to each other,” I remarked, shaking my head. “I wish you would’ve have told me that. I would’ve excused you being tardy.”
She shrugged and looked down at her feet. Her demeanor seemed to have changed but I couldn’t quite tell in which direction until she spoke up again.
“Yeah, but then we wouldn’t have a chance to hang out alone together,” she said shyly.
Huh, wonder what the hell that’s supposed to mean, I thought to myself.
“Mr. S, can I tell you something?” she continued.
“Of course you can.”
I watched Zaydee get up from her chair and walk over to the side of my desk. She let a hand fall on the pen I had been using to grade the homework papers, then raised her eyes to meet mine.
“I like you.”
“I like you too, Zaydee. You’re one of my best students,” I replied fondly.
“No. I mean ... I like you,” she said.
My hands started to shake at her confession. I had never had this situation happen with a student before and I knew I had to tread carefully. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings and I didn’t want her to think anything would happen between us.
“Don’t be shy; I’ve seen the way you look at me in class when you think I’m not looking. It’s okay for us to like each other,” she said, running a hand lightly up my arm.
“Zaydee. I’m your teacher ,” I said, emphasizing the last word. “You’re my student, but
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