Teacher's Pet Ch. 04

I agonized over creating the video for weeks before giving it to you too. It was our conversation after one of my senior seminar meetings that did it. You remember when I asked you what you did to satisfy yourself?"

"Sure," I answered.

"And you told me that you subscribed to a masturbation and BDSM sites, and the reason you liked them was because they were real—that the emotions were real?" she asked.

"Sure," I replied.

"That gave me the idea for it. I thought, he likes this already. He'd know it was the real thing. I think he'd like it from me, and... I thought... I trust him, and I want to show him how I feel. I went through three introductions and threw them all out before settling on the last one. So, even on something as radical as what I did for you, I was a planner, not a girl who gets wasted, screws around, then blames the weed for it.

But college was just so different, Tyler. There were endless opportunities for sex. If I'd wanted to, I could have had sex virtually every day, more than once a day even, with dozens of different men and women, students, teachers, coaches, administrators, you name it, it was all there.

Being on cheer and living out of the athletic dorm put me in the fastest of the fast crowds. Very physical people, very strong sex drives, very sexually active, and they were either doing it or planning to do it all the time. The very weekend after mom, dad and Susie left, not a full week after you and I left the lake, just days after letting you know that I loved you, I was on my knees sucking another guy.

When I think back to it now, it feels so insulting that I did it so quickly after we separated. He was a nice guy, gymnast, great looking, really well hung...wait, you didn't need to hear that part, probably...anyway, for the first time in my life I was free to do whatever I wanted, and everyone around me was doing exactly what they wanted, so I thought, I like him, he's great looking, he's nice, and he clearly wants to do it too, it would be fun, so why not do it?

And you know what? The sex itself was fantastic. Totally uninhibited. I... Tyler, you're not going to like to hear this, but I really let go. I sucked him inside out, drained him, swallowed him, then I made him get it up again and do me two more times. I was able to tune out all the noise and just have a fantastic time.

But the weird part was that it was totally unlike sex with you, which was all based on the connection we'd built over months. When he called me a couple of days later wanting to get back together for dinner, I didn't want to have anything to do with him. He was just a good lay, a kind of big walking sexual device. The next time I ran into him on campus it felt more like we'd washed our clothes together in the laundry than slept together. There was no intimacy at all between us.

But Tyler...I just loved the sex. It was new and different and uninhibited. You were so kind and loving in the way you introduced me to it, but this was much more like our... shower... you know, rough, wild, little to no thought about the downstream consequences, just sex for sex' sake.

Like with Mitch, that was the first guy, the gymnast. At one point his passion got away from him, and he...even though he was big he...put...his hands behind my head and forced it into my... throat until it nearly choked me. It surprised me, but I liked the feeling of being a little bit out of control. I nearly orgasmed just from him pounding away at my mouth, without him even touching me below the waist. I had no idea I would react that way.

Okay... well, I guess that might have been a little too explicit," she said seeing my discomfort. "Sorry."

I didn't correct her. It was hard for me to think about "my" Landrie doing what she described. Intellectually, I knew she was having sex, after all he was young, beautiful, hungry for it, and had a willingness for adventure. But knowing something is a near statistical certainty and having the nuts and bolts of it graphically thrown in your face were two entirely different things.

"You, okay?" she asked, reading me as always.

"I will be," I said, and meant it. But I didn't feel nearly as certain as my words sounded. Nonetheless, Landrie took this as her cue to continue.

"The problem is that I have this motor, Tyler, and it doesn't seem to stop. So, as time went by, I kept doing it, over and over and over and over. I... there is some possibility that twenty-two may not be an accurate count because in some of the session's guys, well...people...came and went, and...well... I was a bit too wasted to keep count.

Almost every weekend we were either hosting another team's cheer squad before a football game or traveling on the road and being hosted, or there was this fraternity party or that sorority party, and on virtually all of them I'd get to drinking or smoking and horny as hell and wind up in bed.

I wanted to try everything, and I did. I did a threesome with my roommate Liv and her boyfriend the second week of school. They came in late, thought I was asleep, and went after it in Liv's bed, then Liv gets the giggles because she sees me peeking from under my pillow and calls me out for spying on them. Then 'boom,' I'm in their bed and Liv and I are both going down on her boyfriend, side by side, then riding him top and bottom, the whole nine yards. It became a little difficult because Lionel, her boyfriend, got hung up on me and began trying to set up one-on-ones without Liv, so I had to tell Liv what was happening. They kept dating, but it's been rough.

Anyway, I've done students, faculty, coaches, several men at a time, two girls from the volleyball team at once. I've been tied up, teased, clamped, spanked, whipped, shocked, taken bruises, rope burns. I've found that I have this enormous submissive streak that needs to be fed, but also makes me vulnerable to lining up with the wrong partner and doing the wrong thing. I have no idea where it came from because it's so unlike my ordinary personality. I'm a true control freak where everything else that matters to me is concerned. I mean, you've seen that, right?" she asked.

"Sure," I responded.

"Right, well dope was almost always involved, not that it's an excuse. It just is. I may have done every kind of weed and some harder things. Tyler, I'm not sure there was anything that I didn't do from a sexual standpoint. Mostly I experienced tremendous sexual satisfaction from it when it happened.

But by my third month on campus the sex was the only thing that was going right, everything else in my life was going to shit. I started skipping class, skipping assignments, leaning on my looks to get extensions I didn't deserve.

It all came together our road trip to USC, the one I talked to Susie on. Maybe that's why the decision crystallized. I was talking to Susie about how you had to have standards, not because of what other people thought about you, but because of the way you think of yourself. Then I hung up the phone and realized that I was a complete hypocrite. And, I had just talked to you, which made the juxtaposition between what I'd told Susie, and what I'd been doing, even more pointed.

Anyway, I didn't quit, even after the talk with Susie, at least not right away. I had one last fling with some guys and one girl from the USC dance and cheer teams. I mean, you've seen the pictures. They're just gorgeous people. The closest living things to Ken and Barbie. It was like the sex Olympics. Anything you can imagine people doing to one in the bedroom, we did.

You know what I realized the next morning?" she asked interrupting my chain of thought.

"No," I responded.

"That this was really the apex of sexual hedonism, like an all-star orgy. But it was so empty, Tyler. I felt like trash the next morning. I realized that I was becoming addicted to a lifestyle that made me someone very different than I wanted to be, someone shallow and vain and dependent on sex to select friends, and that if I didn't come back to earth, there wouldn't much of me left.

Do you know what turned me around?

"No," I replied.

"You did," she answered.

"Me?" I asked, "I wasn't there!"

"Oh, you were always there, you were always on my mind.

I thought about you, about us, just about every morning after I had a romp," Landrie continued, "sometimes even when I was in the romp. About how you loved me. In the back of my mind, I knew it wouldn't end with last summer. I knew that by giving me all the rope I wanted, you were loving me the best way you knew how."

She paused and looked out the window at the passing fields and the tears flowed down her cheeks like water before she smeared them clean. "But for the first few months the friction of that memory wasn't enough brake to make me stop, or even slow me down. But something broke in LA. I could feel you, there, with me when I woke up and at first, I thought 'he'd be so disappointed in me, so ashamed to see me like this,' she exclaimed, bursting into tears again, then fought through them to say "but I knew you'd wrap your arms around me, get me back on your feet, and just keep loving me.

I went through the motions on the sideline that afternoon, ignored all the USC guys I'd slept with at the in-game exchange, and crashed most of the way home. When I got home, I put all that junk aside, dumped a bunch of addresses from my phone and got to work. I was soooo far behind. I quit the parties, hit the library, caught up, did some extra work in penance for the profs who'd been kind to me. That's why I look like I've gone through hell. I had to do several all-nighters in the last couple of weeks just to catch up. I doubt I'll clear a 3.5 this semester, at best."

"Landrie," I said turning her chin up so that her eyes were on me. "Have you you've gotten out what you meant to say?"

She nodded "yes."

"Then let me talk for a little while." Again, she nodded agreement.

"I'm glad you shared that with me, even though I admittedly didn't like hearing it. Most women wouldn't be so honest, and I could tell that it was hard to get through it. I won't pretend that what you've told me doesn't shock me. It does. Your approach this fall seems so inconsistent with the Landrie I know.

But I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit, and you're certainly being too hard on yourself. Living that lifestyle for a while, then rejecting it, was part of maturing. Many would never have had your epiphany and never look at the destructive side of what they were doing. They would just keep going until some crisis like a beating, STDs or an unwanted pregnancy threw them off the game. But you faced it down and made a mature decision, which is a key part of growing up. It is part of what defines you. Not everyone would have thought, 'hey, what is my center? Where do I need to be?' This is one of the things I love the most about you.

I think I know the answer to the question I'm about to ask you based on what you've told me, but I still need to hear it. What do you want...us to be? To become? You know me very well. I don't want a relationship where you come and go Landrie, I couldn't stand that."

"I want you, very badly," she replied, "Not sexually. Well... no... I do want you sexually but that's not what I mean when I say that. I want you...forever. I know that. It's trite but you do complete me—you and I fit perfectly. We're nerdy in the same way, we see life the same way, we have a brilliant history, both personally and sexually, and I think we can have a brilliant future."

She turned further to me in the seat, staring deeply into my eyes. "I want you to be the father of my children, Tyler. I want them to be raised to be like you, like us, I want a whole life with you. If it scares you to hear that out of the blue, I'm sorry, but that's the truth and I'm not going to sit on it. I knew right after I hung up with Susie on the trip to LA, but I waited the whole month to be sure."

I wouldn't have been able to start driving again that moment even if I'd tried. It was my turn to cry, and I did it unashamedly, holding both her hands in mine and leaning into her to bring our foreheads together.

Finally, I pulled away and looked at the long road ahead of us stretching out over the Kansas plain. It seemed an apt metaphor as I rolled everything Landrie had brought to the table around in my head. She could detect my thoughts.

"You worry I won't be able to give it up, don't you?"

"It crossed my mind," I responded. "I don't think sexual desire, particularly ones as strong as you've have, can just be snuffed out in an instant, or with a decision, no matter how profound the commitment. It does concern me."

"Too much?" she asked. "If it helps, I haven't touched a guy, or a girl, in the last month since LA, and I know I can be true to you."

"No," I responded. "It doesn't drive me away. There is always risk, in any relationship. I'm willing to take it because a life with you is worth it, well worth it. I love you and nothing you've told me changes that. Do I need to repeat that last part?" I asked.

"A thousand times," she replied smiling, tears collecting again.

"I love you; I love you I love you I love you I love you..." I began in rapid staccato and Landrie burst out laughing.

"I'll take that as the first installment," she added, but you keep it coming, okay?"

"Do you think we would be completely monogamous?" Landrie followed.

"I don't know if we can, or should," I responded. This caused her to raise her eyebrows quizzically.

"That question needs to be answered, but not necessarily today, or even immediately. I think you answer it over time, and you do it together, but in thinking about it, you've misread me," I said. She looked at me confused, so I continued.

"Okay, let me ask it this way. Who chose the skimpiest bikini you owned for you to wear on our weekend on the lake, one that showed most of your breasts and your bottom?" I asked, reaching into the opening in her blouse to put my hand on her breast.

"You did," she answered, the first sign of a grin breaking through the clouds.

"Who made a point of untying the top of that bikini and oiling your back and butt down in front of a cove filled with dozens of men?" I asked, tweezing her nipple.

"You did," she said, her breath picking up.

And who kicked your top out of your reach, so you had to stand up and show the most perfect breasts in the history of mankind to a bunch of strangers just to get it back on?" I asked, giving her a good pinch to make my point memorable.

"You did," Landrie said, pulling my inconvenient hand free from her nipple.

For the first time since she began her mea culpa, she laughed.

"I did those things because I knew you liked being watched, that you liked showing off your body. And I did it because I like showing it off. I liked knowing that you feel so strongly about me, that you love me, and yet that seeing the lust in other men's eyes gets you off anyway. And you should show yourself off now and again, you're gorgeous. And when you enjoyed it, I did too.

One of the things that causes me to love you is that you're a complete paradox. On one side you're this studious, thoughtful, careful planner who is so competitive she's worried about getting 'only' a 3.5 GPA at one of the most competitive universities in the world.

On the other hand, you're this naughty little minx who thinks like a 1950s banned novella writer, and sends me nude videos of herself masturbating, who has wet dreams of being gang-banged by a bunch of guys in a cabin cruiser and who has done God knows what else. But I love the whole package Landrie. Even when you were telling me just now a little part of my head thought about what it would be like to bend you over a couch and make you tell me every sexual episode one by one as we went at it. It's oddly like rocket fuel for my head. Do you understand?"

"Maybe," she said, smiling more broadly, understanding exactly what I'd said, but inviting me to continue.

"Every two people in the world who love each other must decide the same thing: 'do we want complete exclusivity? Can we accomplish complete exclusivity?' Historically, the deal was complete exclusiveness by both partners in exchange for the common familial good, and for the wife this meant a house and home when society wouldn't let her earn either on her own. The idea was to bring comfort and confidence, probably at the price of dullness. But we know it doesn't always work. People routinely cheat on their partners, they lie about it, it happens not a little, but in millions of cases.

I'm just not that casual a guy when it comes to sex, or relationships. I was just as cautious, hell, more cautious, than you were when we edged into our relationship. It scared me to death.

I don't know as I sit here right now what my outer limit would be on our relationship. I wouldn't want you in any relationship where you're love for me was itself suborned to someone else, and I know you feel the same way. I would want you to be honest and fully open with me, always, and I'll be the same way with you.

But beyond those basics, I don't know how I would feel if you'd chosen to swim over to that cabin cruiser that afternoon and take on those guys. Could I have watched it? Permitted it? Participated in it? I don't think so, but I don't know. I wouldn't have left you alone with them, I know that. I'm far too protective for that.

But most couples don't know when they start out exactly where the relationship will end up, and I don't think it's practical to expect answers to every question all at once, especially since we have had such little time together as a couple, do you?"

"No" she responded, "You always surprise me. You have a way of making sense out of even the things that start off in a jumble," Landrie followed.

"Ready for the second $64 million dollar question?" Landrie asked.

"There's a second $64 million dollar question?" I responded.

"Yes, but a good one. For me, there is no one else, no one that I feel anything near the kind of emotional connection that I feel for you. How about you? Is there anyone special I should know about?" she asked. I waited a long time before answering.

"Surprisingly, there is, and it's very recent. When you told me you needed to separate, I felt I had to go carve my own path, even if it was just to keep my head on straight. So, a relationship with one of my fellow teachers just started over the last month. Now I'm not sure what to do about it," I replied honestly.

"Tell me about her," Landrie implored quietly, the unease plain in her voice.

"Her name is Angelica Beall. She's a first-year art teacher in junior high. We have a teacher mentor program and I've been doing it for years. It's a little extra stipend and I like working with the new teachers anyway, so... Anyway, Angelica was my assignment. We've been meeting once every couple of weeks since the beginning of the school year. Over the last month it's become quite a bit more than just a mentor relationship," I responded.

"Is she... pretty?" Landrie asked, her voice taut with worry.

"Very," I answered honestly. "Not your looks at all. Tall, willowy, blonde, blue eyes, fair skin, but she's a very lovely young woman."

"And?" Landrie asked.

"And we've grown very close. We've had a couple of dates and I'm supposed to have another with her this Saturday. It was set before I got your note. I have, ...had a good feeling about Angelica. If you and I were not a couple, I think there is a good chance she could be the one. After November I thought you were gone, well, you said you were. So, everything with Angelica just sort of moved forward at its own pace. Now, I just hate the thought of hurting her, she's done nothing wrong. She's not frail by any stretch, but she's open and trusting."