Ms. Anderson

Chapter 11

Today is Tuesday, so we kick off with calculus. Turns out our math teacher bailed, which explains his absence yesterday. I'm curious if they've managed to find a replacement already, hopefully someone who can make math more understandable.

I'm sitting with Jennifer and I'm telling her about the little interaction I had with Rose as someone walks in. It's a younger man with glasses and a small mustache, giving off a vibe like he's straight out of the 70s. As he turns to address the class, an unsettling feeling washes over me.

"Good morning, everyone. I'm Mr. Bayron and I'll be your math teacher the rest of this year," he announces, but his voice immediately rubs me the wrong way. It's oddly high-pitched and completely out of sync with his appearance.

I glance over at Jennifer, noticing her agitation mirrored in her expression, which almost makes me giggle.
However, I decide to give Mr. Bayron the benefit of the doubt and set aside my initial impression of him.

As the lesson continues, I'm pleasantly surprised to find Mr. Bayron good at explaining concepts. I grasp everything effortlessly, feeling a sense of relief knowing I won't need to dedicate extra time to studying at home like I used to.

As he moves around the classroom, assisting students with their work, I notice how he tends to stand unusually close, especially to the female students when they have questions. The unsettling feeling returns, and this time, I don't dismiss it. While he might be harmless, I decide to keep an eye on his behavior.

Next class is English, and my mind wanders back to yesterday. How she left me standing there, breathless. How she was claiming me without any hesitation. A warm sensation fills my stomach as I'm thinking about it.

She stands by the door, and as I enter, she winks at me, sending a shiver down my spine. Once everyone's inside, she closes the door and begins the lesson. We delve into discussions about writers and producers, and as she wraps up, she assigns us a project that we can get a head start on now.

Sitting at her desk, she looks effortlessly chic in a light blue button-up, her hair casually swept up into a messy bun. I notice she's wearing the bracelet I gave her.

As if she senses my gaze, she looks up, her eyes meeting mine. They roam over my body before locking onto my gaze again. She pushes her glasses up to the top of her head and retrieves some papers from another class. She licks her ring and middle finger simultaneously, before gently sliding them over one of the pages as she turns it over, all the while biting her lip slightly and maintaining eye contact with me. It's like she's casting a spell, and I find myself squirming in my seat.

I sink lower into my chair, and she smirks knowingly, fully aware of the effect she's having on me. Feeling my cheeks flush, I hurriedly shift my focus to my assignment, scribbling down words that don't even seem to make sense.

The bell rings, and for the first time in English class, I'm relieved. I'm not sure how much longer I could have maintained my composure under her intense gaze.

She closes the door before I have a chance to leave, and then locks it. Confusion swirls in my mind, but before I can gather my thoughts, her lips meet mine with hunger. Her arms explore my body, unsure where to start. I smile as I feel her desire.

Her lips trail from my mouth to my neck, and she brushes my hair aside, revealing the remnants of last week's hickey. A groan escapes her lips as she sees it, and she begins to suck on it once more. I shiver with pleasure, and she presses me against her desk, steadying me.

My hands roam over her body, finding their way to her cheeks as I softly pull her head up, eager to feel her lips on mine once again.

She withdraws, her breaths heavy as her hands trace over my legs.