Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96007 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96007 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
“Shit.”
“What?” Shannon asked breathlessly.
“My phone is going off,” I said, relying on her dazed state to distract her from the fact that my phone wasn’t going off. “I’ve got to take this. I’ve been expecting a call from a friend. His wife is due any day now.” I pressed one last kiss to her lips and pulled back, quickly refastening my pants.
“Oh. Okay.” She copied my moves and adjusted her skirt as she walked me to the door. “Let’s get together again soon,” she said, stepping in close. Peeking up from below her lashes, she grazed her hand across my crotch and I fought to not flinch. “I want to return the favor.”
I endured one last caress before I was able to escape. The touch churned my stomach and nausea burned through me.
I wasn’t going to call her again. It had been a mistake to even try.
Sitting in my car, I waved and pulled off.
My jaw clenched as anger at myself replaced the nausea. Embarrassment burned my skin. At a stoplight, I considered turning the other way and going to Voyeur. Maybe she’d be there. Maybe I’d be able to replace the feeling inside me with a better one. A performance to spark my imagination into something hopeful.
Without overthinking it, I made the turn toward Voyeur, my mind conjuring which boxes I’d check when I got there. I imagined a fist lost in Oaklyn’s long hair, gripping it, holding her tight as she’s fucked. Picturing myself as her partner helped the nausea and embarrassment wane. A manic joy brewed inside me with each mile, and by the time I’d reached the club, I was on the edge of losing it.
There I was, in the dark of my car, an erection straining against my pants at the thought of fucking my student.
The nausea roared back. I was her teacher. She was a teenager. And to make myself feel better, I imagined fucking her. I gripped the steering wheel, like holding it tightly would help me keep a grip on my self-control. I swallowed, weighing the pros and cons.
Pro: Go into Voyeur and feel better, imagining yourself in the place of some man who fucks Oaklyn.
Con: Make a rash decision and go inside to have your nineteen-year-old student make you feel better as you imagine fucking her.
What the hell was I doing?
I put the car in reverse and made my way home. Halfway there, I spotted a liquor store, and I swerved in to grab a bottle of bourbon, ready to make myself forget the mess I’d become.
Weak. I was weak, and I hated it. Deep breaths were my best friend as I made the last turn to my street. By the time I’d pulled into the driveway, I felt halfway human again. Halfway like a functioning adult. Enough of one to put the liquor in the top cabinet and not crack the seal just yet. I only needed to find complete control again, and I’d be fine.
I’d be fine.
8
Oaklyn
I’d lied to myself when I’d said I’d eventually adjust. It had been one week, and I was pretty sure I was dying from lack of sleep. I’d worked all weekend, including Sunday night. I hadn’t gotten home until one and still had to study for a quiz I had the next day. Who gave a quiz in the second week of classes? Then I’d had to head to the physics department. Thankfully I’d been able to leave early since Mr. Erikson didn’t have much work for me and Dr. Pierce hadn’t been there.
I’d fallen into a small coma early in the evening and woke up earlier than usual that morning. I tried to keep my eyes closed and fall back into dreamland but failed. So, I went ahead to campus and figured I’d get some work done. I walked into the building where my physics class was, hoping to find it empty, so I could sit in there to work for the thirty minutes before class.
I looked in the room through the window to find all the seats empty and pulled the door open to enjoy the quiet. When I’d walked through the threshold, I noticed Dr. Pierce at his desk. His head popped up at the noise and he looked me over with that intense gaze again, the thick-rimmed glasses doing nothing to lessen the stare, before clearing his throat. “Hey, Oaklyn. You’re here early.” He pulled the white sleeve of his shirt back to check his watch to make sure I was indeed early.
“Hey, Dr. Pierce. I hope it’s okay I’m here early.”
“Of course. Have a seat.”
I grabbed one in the front row and began unpacking my books. “No point in going to the library for thirty minutes just to pack up and leave again.”
“Smart choice. Very efficient with your time. I can appreciate that.”