Chapter One
Mr. Cox
As a teacher, there are rules about fraternization with students. Actually, there’s only one rule: you don’t do it. But when one of your students is Emily Powell, a girl so gorgeous she could drop out of high school to be a supermodel, all bets are off.
She came into my classroom like she’d stepped off a catwalk, her teenage hips swaying back and forth over her long legs, braless, perky C-cups bouncing beneath her worn black band t-shirt that was covered in holes.
I guess it was the trendy style or whatever. I didn’t know anything about all that, but what I did know was the sight of her bare skin had my blood pumping and my pants tightening so much that I had to take a seat behind my desk and finish teaching from my chair.
And that was the first day of school.
Somehow, this beauty had managed to make it through four years of high school without knowing just how gorgeous she was. Maybe it was because the teenage doofuses around her were too terrified to even talk to her. But then again so was I—but for entirely different reasons.
I knew it would be next to impossible to restrain myself around her, and that was a big problem. Sure, she was eighteen but I was her math teacher, and that made her completely off limits.
She was effortlessly sexy. It didn’t matter what she wore, she still had me practically falling over myself when I laid eyes on her. Whether it was a pair of torn black jeans, short denim shorts or a pair of yoga pants, she was a ten out of ten, a flawless beauty that filled my mind with dirty thoughts: what did that body look like naked? What was her orgasm face like? Had she even had one yet? Did she shave?
Those last two in particular I didn’t like to think about. If she’d had an orgasm before, that meant someone else could have given it to her, and that made my blood boil. And if she shaved that tight little pussy she was hiding beneath her pants, that meant she was doing it for someone else.
And what was worse was that I would catch Emily looking at me from time to time. I’d seen a flicker of attraction in her eyes on the first day of class, but she hid it well. She clearly didn’t want to be another one of the girls checking me out and making jokes about my last name.
I was “the hot teacher” at Meadowbrook High and everyone knew it. The guy teachers liked to joke with me about what they’d do if they were in my position, and the women teachers had almost all ended up flirting with me at some point in time. Mrs. Arrington had even put my hand under her dress in the teachers’ lounge one day after lunch, but that’s a whole other can of worms right there.
But I never let any of this get in the way of my career. I had a great job, one that I loved, and I wasn’t about to risk it all for some silly office romance or by breaking the law and returning the affections of one of my students.
But the day before graduation, I almost lost control with her.
“Mr. Cox?” she’d asked, waiting until all the other students had left the room before coming up to me and leaning over my desk, giving me a face full of her cleavage. She was wearing a halter top that was dangerously close to being out of dress code, but I wasn’t about to bust her for it.
“Yes, Miss Powell?”
“I was just wondering if you could help me with this problem,” she smiled. “It’s giving me a hard time.”
Yeah, you’re giving me a hard time, I thought as I took her notebook from her.
“Is it?” I asked. “You are my best student.”
“Yeah, I think—I think I’m just having a mental block.”
Fuck! I thought as I glanced up at her. She hadn’t taken her eyes off me and I could feel my cock rising in my pants as I stared into her beautiful blues. I forced myself to look away and examine her work, and quickly saw that she’d made a careless mistake that was throwing her off.
“Ah, right here,” I said, pointing it out.
“Oh!” Emily giggled, causing her tits to bounce. “What’s wrong with me?”
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
“We all do it,” I smiled, wishing simultaneously that she would stay and leave. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to have her or she had to get out of my sight before I lost control.
“Oh, you do it?” she asked with a smile.
Is she flirting with me?
“Yes, Miss Powell. I too make mistakes,” I replied, fighting to keep it professional. But it was a losing battle. Did she know what she was getting herself into? Probably not. She was just flirting, something she could tell her friends later.
“I’m going to miss your class,” she smiled. “You’re, like, the best teacher here.”
“Well, thank you, Miss Powell,” I replied. “You’re a great student.”
I almost lost it when she smiled, tilted her head to the side and twirled a length of warm, brown hair around her finger.
“So, you’ll miss me?”
Fuck…
“I—I will certainly miss your contributions to the class,” I replied. This answer didn’t seem to satisfy Emily, and she gave me a little pouty face that made me wonder what her lips would taste like against mine.