Given To His Teacher Read online

  About this Book

  Mr. Cross is going to teach us some discipline.

  My boyfriend needs a good grade to play baseball in front of a college scout this week—a game that will decide our whole future. He’s got one thing Mr. Cross want enough to pass his class: me.

  I love my boyfriend more than anything in the world, and I know he loves me. But will he look at me the same after Mr. Cross locks the door?

  Chapter One

  Tabby Jones held her boyfriend’s hand for moral support as they made the long trek up the aisle to his teacher’s desk. If this talk didn’t go well, Chris would be benched Friday night—the one night the college scout would be watching the game. Chris didn’t have a lot of options, if he didn’t get recruited, he could kiss college goodbye. And with it any hope of getting out of their all-but-dead hometown.

  Chris and Tabby had big plans for their lives after graduation. On her eighteenth birthday, Chris had proposed. He was Tabby’s world. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for him.

  Nothing at all.

  Sometimes it was hard to believe a guy like Chris ever noticed her. He was so good looking—blond, tousled hair, chiseled cheekbones, dreamy blue eyes. Best of all, his athletic body was toned in all the right places. Everywhere they went, women, and sometimes men, did a double take when he walked by.

  Chris ran with the popular crowd, and Tabby had been too shy to ever talk to him, but last year, out of the blue, he’d asked her on a date. They were inseparable after that. Chris helped her overcome some of her shyness, and she felt like she could do anything with him by her side.

  She’d given him her virginity, though he hadn’t ever pushed her. And she liked the things they did to each other. She was still more inhibited than she liked, but Chris said that was fine with him. He said it turned him on each time she let go a little more of the things that held her back.

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Patterson?” his teacher asked, looking up from that stack of papers in front of him when they reached his desk. He clearly didn’t think much of Chris.

  Mr. Cross was well known for running a tight ship. He didn’t suffer fools and he didn’t accept excuses. Tabby wished Chris had tried harder to get transferred out of his class at the beginning of the semester, there was no way he was going to pass this class.

  Plus, Mr. Cross was intimidating.

  She wasn’t sure what it was about him that made her think so. She’d never even spoken to him. He moved down the halls of her school like a predator, sleek and powerful. And so sure of himself. Mr. Cross was a take command kind of man. If he’d been better looking, he would have had to deal with more schoolgirl crushes. He wasn’t ugly or anything, he just wasn’t hot like the basketball coach.

  But he sure was intense.

  She shivered when Mr. Cross pierced her with a hunter’s stare.

  “Sir, I’d like to talk to you about my grades.” Chris gulped, but Tabby squeezed his hand for encouragement. “I’d like to see if there’s a way to improve them by Friday.”

  Mr. Cross raised one eyebrow. “It’s Wednesday, Mr. Patterson. What do you think you can accomplish by Friday? I assume this has more to do with your baseball game than your love of literature.”

  Chris blushed. “I really need to play this Friday, sir. I’ll do anything. My girlfriend is real smart, and she said she’d help me study if you’ll give me a chance. Please, sir. I’m begging you.”

  Something about the way Mr. Cross looked at her made Tabby’s cheeks burn. She wasn’t sure what it was, he hadn’t even spoken to her, but she suddenly felt like she wasn’t wearing enough clothes.

  Mr. Cross hadn’t responded, so Chris nudged Tabby. “Tell him, Tabby. Tell him about your good grades.”

  She felt shy, but Chris needed her. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get his grades up, Mr. Cross.”

  Mr. Cross leaned back in his chair and steepled his hands in front of him. “Really, Ms. Jones? Anything at all?”

  She was surprised he knew her name. She’d never been in one of his classes before. But what happened next surprised her even more.

  Mr. Cross nodded to Chris. “Go lock the door.”

  Lock the door? Why did he want the door locked? She wanted to ask him, but Mr. Cross was openly staring at her in a way that chilled her to the bone. And then he smiled wickedly. Tabby had a very bad feeling about this, and was relieved when Chris returned to her side.

  “You were right about her, Mr. Patterson. Your girlfriend is a hot little treat. And so desperate to save you. You’re a lucky young man.”

  Tabby was confused. “Chris?” She looked at him, but he wouldn’t make eye contact with her. “Chris what is he saying? You talked about me with him?”

  “Oh yes, Ms. Jones, we talked about you. We talked about your long blonde hair and your big baby blue eyes. We talked about your tight little ass and your perfect, round breasts.”

  Her mouth hung open but she couldn’t summon words. Self -consciously, she pulled at the ends of her ponytail.

  Chris raked a hand through his blond hair, disheveling it just the way she liked. Well, usually liked. “I’m sorry. This is wrong. I shouldn’t have done it. I’ll take the ‘F’, Mr. Cross. I can’t…what we talked about…I can’t.”

  Tabby was still confused. “Chris?”

  “Your boyfriend offered you up in return for a good grade, Ms. Jones.”

  “It wasn’t my idea,” Chris protested.

  “And yet you went along with it. It hardly matters whose idea it was, only that you are prepared to let me have your girlfriend.” Mr. Cross got up and sat on the corner of the desk in front of Tabby. “How does that make you feel, Ms. Jones?”

  Tabby didn’t know how that made her feel. Part of her was mad, another embarrassed, and another, inexplicably, aroused by the idea. “Have me? What does that mean?”

  “Never mind,” said Chris.

  “You’re supposed to be really smart, Ms. Jones. Isn’t that what Chris said? I’m sure you can figure it out.”

  She looked between the two men, one she loved with all her young heart and the other who held the key to their dreams in his hand. Mr. Cross wasn’t repulsive, but he was almost as old as her parents. He stayed in shape and had a full head of hair, but there was something off about him. Something unsafe. “You’re saying if I have sex with you, you’ll pass Chris in your class.”

  “No!” Chris yelled.

  She rounded on him. “This was the deal you made with him?” Her anger rushed to the front of all the confusing emotions she’d been experiencing. “You made up the whole story to get me here today, when you already had a deal.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m just desperate. But I don’t want you to do it. I swear.” Chris glared at Mr. Cross. “He didn’t want me to tell you about it ahead of time. He said he wanted to savor your reaction.”

  She twisted her ring, her engagement ring, as her heart plummeted in her ribcage. She was raised to value herself. She’d never contemplated using her body for her own grades, much less someone else’s.

  She turned back to Mr. Cross, her eyes wandered down his chest to the sizable swell of his khaki pants. She thought of Chris’s dream to play baseball in college, how they were planning on a future together that wouldn’t happen if he didn’t get that scholarship. “What do I have to do?”

  “Chris,” Mr. Cross began. “Unbutton your girlfriend’s shirt. I want to see her tits.”

  Tabby blushed at the language but kept her eyes locked with Mr. Cross.

  “Tabby…” Chris said hopelessly.

  “Do it,” she answered.

  Chris reluctantly worked the buttons of her shirt open. Mr. Cross pointed to the bra clasp in front, so Chris undid it and her breasts sp
rang free. Chris pulled the shirt and the bra ends away from her boobs, and she stood there and let him do it. She let him expose her to this grown man.

  “Very nice,” the teacher commented as he gazed upon the feast of young flesh exposed to his view. “Pinch her nipples.”

  She couldn’t close her eyes. It was like she was in some kind of thrall as she stared into the eyes of Mr. Cross while her boyfriend squeezed her breasts in front him.

  “Finish taking off her shirt and bra, and then hold her wrists behind her back.”

  Tabby felt so exposed as the new position thrust her breasts out, and Mr. Cross stared at them hungrily. Her nipples hardened under his gaze and she was embarrassed by the flood of heat pooling in her panties. She shouldn’t feel this way. It was wrong. She leaned back into Chris for a little comfort and was astounded by the strong poke of his erection beneath his jeans.

  Was he enjoying this? Shouldn’t he be angry? Jealous? Did he want Mr. Cross to take her in front of him?

  She felt helpless. Chris pinned her arms so this perverted old man could do whatever he wanted to her.

  “Tell me, Ms. Jones, what kind of girl are you?”

  Mr. Cross leaned forward, close enough to touch her exposed breasts with his mouth, but he did not. His hot breath caressed her instead, and she curled her toes to stop herself from arching into him. What was wrong with her?

  “Are you a good girl or a bad girl?”

  “G…good girl, sir,” she answered, but just barely.

  “Is that so? Does that mean you’re a virgin?”

  She squeezed her eyes closed to hide her shame and shook her head. “No, sir.”

  “Well, how can you be a good girl if you’re not a virgin?”

  “Chris and I love each other. We’re going to get married.”

  “I see.” Mr. Cross sat back a little. “I’d like to know more about just what kind of girl you are, since you insist you’re good despite the fact that you’re standing in front of me like a whore.”

  Chris gasped behind her. “Mr. Cross—”

  Her shame flushed across her skin like a forest fire raging out of control, burning her. She wanted to shout at him that she wasn’t a whore. That he was the pervert, not her, because he was forcing them to do this. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t contradict him at all because he had all the power. She had given him control over her when she allowed this to happen.

  “Does Chris touch your tits like this?”

  Mr. Jones squeezed both globes firmly, kneading the flesh. An arrow of desire shot through her, soaking her panties even more. She nodded.

  “We use complete sentences in my class, Ms. Jones. When you answer a question, please reframe the question in your answer. Does Chris touch your tits like this?” he repeated.

  “Yes, Chris touches my…breasts like that.”

  Mr. Jones tsked and slapped her right boob sharply. “Tits. Say it.”

  The sting of his slap startled her and aroused her even more. “Yes, Chris touches my tits like that.”

  Chris’s hands tightened around her wrists and a small groan escaped him.

  “Good girl,” Mr. Cross murmured and he went back to kneading and squeezing. “Does he lick your tits this?”

  His tongue darted out quickly, a subtle gentle swipe that made her knees weak.

  “No, sir. Chris doesn’t lick my tits like that.” Chris preferred to try and get the whole thing in his mouth.

  “He doesn’t? What about this, does he suck on your tits?”

  His hot mouth clamped over her nipple, and he suckled strongly. The sensation of the moist heat on her tit and the hard strength of her teenage boyfriend at her back made her head swoon and she moaned.

  She started to nod, but caught herself. “Yes…oh God…yes, Chris sucks on my tits just like that.”

  She clamped her thighs together, remembering last Sunday night. Chris had sucked her tits until she came on her living room couch while her parents cooked dinner in the next room.

  Chris pressed against her harder, and he rested his chin on her shoulder to watch Mr. Cross suck her other nipple. Then the teacher brought them together and sucked both nipples into his mouth.

  A trickle of wetness slid down her thigh.

  The teacher moaned a little as he pulled away. “Thank you for being honest, Ms. Jones. You don’t need to tell me if you enjoy it. I can tell by your slutty little face that you do.” He sat back and put his hand on his zipper. “So, tell me, good girl. Do you like to look at Chris’s cock?”

  Her eyes widened. There would be no backing out now. Things had gone too far; there would be no return. Boobs were one thing, but now he was talking about his penis. “I’ve never seen it.”

  Mr. Cross raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Seen what, Ms. Jones?”

  “I’ve never seen Chris’s cock, sir. We’ve…it was always dark when we did it.”

  “I see. You’re so hot for dick you can’t even wait to see it properly then? It figures. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. We’ll make sure you learn to appreciate cock today.” He slid the zipper down. “Have you seen anyone else’s?”

  She shook her head vehemently, and then remembered she needed to speak. “No, sir. I’ve never seen a real cock before.”

  “Not even in a porn movie?”

  “I don’t watch porn.”

  Mr. Cross smiled. “What about you, Chris? You watch porn, don’t you?”

  “Yes, sir. I watch porn.”

  The sound of his voice, lower and more gravelly than usual, made her breasts tingle and ache for more attention. They were so sensitive, but never more than right now.

  Chris always told her that he fell in love with her by looking into her beautiful blue eyes, but she always suspected it had more to do with her tits. Which was fine with her. She wished someone would touch them. And then she felt shame that she was so turned on by what was happening to her.

  As if he knew where her thoughts were taking her, Mr. Cross slapped her nipples, and her legs would have given out if Chris hadn’t been holding her up.

  “I’ll bet you do, son. I’ll bet you watch dirty movies and wish your little girlfriend knew how to do some of the twisted, perverted acts you see while you ferociously beat off.”

  Chris ground against her harder. “Yes, sir.”

  She hadn’t known he watched those kinds of movies. She guessed it was only natural. Thinking about Chris touching himself while watching other people have sex, and maybe even thinking about her, made her clench and ache.

  Something was happening to her in this classroom. She wasn’t normally like this.

  She’d enjoyed sex with Chris. She didn’t always come, but it was nice to be close. What she was feeling now wasn’t the same. She’d never wanted it as much as she did right now. What did that say about her? Was Mr. Cross right? Was she a whore?

  Mr. Cross pulled out his cock. It was already huge and pulsing like a monster. “Look at my cock, Ms. Jones. Can you see it? I want you to get a good, hard look. Chris, keep her wrists together, but push her down some at the waist, so she can see my big, hard dick really, really good.”

  Her skirt rose up with the action, and the position put Chris’s hard dick right up against her ass. One of his hands held her wrists, and one held her shoulder to keep her balance. In front of her was Mr. Cross’s dick, at eye level. It strained towards her, glistening at the tip.

  Mr. Cross stroked his hand up and down the turgid length while he spoke. “If you’ve never seen a cock, you’ve probably never tasted one, have you? Chris, have you ever shoved your meat down her little throat?”

  Chris groaned, pushing his erection against her hard and pulling her shoulder back for leverage while he rubbed. “No, Mr. Cross, Tabby has never sucked my cock.”

  “Chris, how does it feel to know another man is going to get her first blow job while you watch? You’re going to see my dick in your girlfriend’s mouth. She’s going to choke on my meat. You’ll hear her
slurping on my cum. All so you can play a baseball game.”

  “Yes, sir. It feels…it feels good, sir. It feels hot.”

  “Hot,” Mr. Cross repeated. “Sharing your girlfriend with another man is hot to you? I’ll bet you’re a bigger pervert than I am, Chris. You just haven’t realized it yet.” To Tabby, he said, “Lick it like an ice cream cone, sweetheart. Start at the base lick slowly all the way up. If you want to impress me, swirl your tongue on the tip and go back down slowly.”

  Tabby knew some girls did this. She sometimes wondered about what it would feel like, what it would taste like, but she never thought she would taste another man. A man that wasn’t Chris.

  And Chris thought it was hot.

  She put the tip of her tongue on Mr. Cross’s cock. It was smoother than she thought it would be, like satin. Just as instructed, she moved up slowly, giving it more of the flat part of her tongue as she went up. His cock twitched on her tongue.

  She lingered on the ridge near the top for a second and then swirled the tip, tasting the clear liquid that seeped out. Before she could go back down, the taste of him stopped her with surprise. It was delicious. She swirled again to gather any more moisture she could find and then, as if by instinct, she closed her mouth over the head to suckle more out.

  “Oh, fuck,” Chris murmured.

  “Good girl,” Mr. Cross said, and she was pleased that she impressed him.

  She wanted to keep sucking, but Mr. Cross stopped her, directing Chris to raise her back up to standing. The teacher yanked her to him, so Chris let go of her wrists, and Mr. Cross latched on to her tit. “So good,” he said in between sucking. “You’re such a hot, dirty little girl.” His hands grabbed her ass and pulled her closer, his hard cock standing up like a pole between them.

  “Get on your knees, Ms. Jones.”

  She obeyed without a second thought. The floor was cold and hard. Mr. Cross stood up and shucked off his pants and underwear in one movement. “Chris, I require your assistance.”

  “Yes, sir?” he asked uneasily.

  “I want you to feed my cock to your girlfriend.”

  “Sir?”