Teaching Her a Lesson Pt. 04

There was a brief pause, then I heard water turn on. The shower. I grit my teeth. Nudity. Prolonged nudity. Wetness. Soap. Hot warm water. Hot warm teacher.

No. That was the slipperiest slope I'd ever stood on. One inch downward, and I'd be coasting until... oh god, yes, until...

I sat up. There it was. Abbie. I needed to contact Abbie. What was I being blackmailed for, after all, but for the presence of a naked student in my house? All I had to do was have Abbie come over here and take some pictures of my own. Then if Louisa and Candace -- Isa and Candy, that is -- did snap out of it, they'd be as screwed as I was, caught in the exact same vice of guilt and blame as me, and look how far I'd been willing to go to get out of it! It was perfect.

Or maybe I was just tired of waiting and wanted to get my girls over here. Whatever. I was doing it, and if the pictures never served a higher purpose than fueling my spank bank, that was fine by me.

I was going to need a phone. Hmm. I could borrow Candace's, I suppose. Looking around, I surmised she'd taken it with her. I stole quietly toward the bedroom, trying not to think of how she'd disapprove of what I was about to do. Ah, well. She'd find out before long anyway when--

"Need something?" asked Candace. She was standing in the middle of her bedroom. Apart from her sports bra and two long socks, she was naked. Holy shit. Candace -- Candy -- shaved. (Anyone with that name and that pussy was definitely a Candy. I was never letting that go.) She waxed too, from the look of things. I couldn't help but gape at the two pink, puffy lips in front of me -- then more so when it occurred to me that rather than push me out or dive in the bathroom, she merely stood there. Her response was no more severe than to place her hands on slender hips, watching me with a mildly irritated expression.

"I... um... phone."

"What for?" Despite her question, she didn't hesitate to point to where it sat charging on her nightstand beneath a framed photo of her and Isa sitting in some picturesque gazebo somewhere. They were dressed up nice. Someone's wedding, maybe? They looked happy. Content. Much more so than the real Candy, who was gesturing for me to answer her and looking anything but.

"Oh, nothing. Just, um, some pictures. Your girlfriend took my phone, so... yeah." Explaining everything to her the first time had been hard enough. Having to admit my sleazy plan aloud was more than I felt like doing. "It's part of a plan."

Excellent -- my choice of words evidently struck home, and her veneer of disdain vanished. "Oh? All right. Here, let me swipe you in." My nearly naked colleague walked over and retrieved the phone. Holy shit, that ass! Two spherical bubbles above a thigh gap that was basically an arrow originating at her pussy. It couldn't have been tighter if she had been sculpted in plastic. She caught me looking as she turned, but said nothing as she handed me the activated phone.

"Thanks. Um, I think your water's hot now." A cloud of steam drifted slowly from the open door to the master bathroom.

"Oh. Right." Her lips twisted to one side for a moment, but only a moment. Then it was off with the sports bra in one swift motion, revealing a pair of unbelievably cute little tits. Her fair skin almost hid the petite, conical pink nipples. The socks went last, giving me an amazing view of the slit itself as she bent to peel them off. Then the social studies turned and strode into the bathroom. My cock threatened to jump out of my pants and follow. The glass door slid open, and in she went. With the panes already fogging over, I waited for her to close it so I could pry myself away. After a brief pause, it did so, and time started moving again.

Jesus. Causing me trouble and disrupting my plans had one hell of a broad definition where sweet Candy was concerned. I wondered if she'd let me...

No. No, on with the actual plan. Thankfully, I still remembered Abbie's number. I punched it in hastily, double- and triple-checking to make sure I didn't send it to some stranger. Abbie, this is Mr. Canon. Get your ass over to 2530 Rock Creek Rd. Now.

Bring Taylor.

The reply came fast. How do I know this is u

I considered. And wear that schoolgirl outfit, slut.

<3 <3 <3 omw soon!!! She included half a dozen eggplant and kitty emojis, evidently in case I'd forgotten she wanted to have sex.

There. Now hopefully Candy would stay out of the way so we could--

"You coming, or what?"

I looked up. There she was again, leaning around the shower door and looking expectantly at where I was sitting on the end of her bed. "Am I what now?"

"Yeah. If you don't do this soon, I'm gonna start pruning up."

"Do what?"

"You said you were going to take pictures, right?" There was no mistaking the mild teacherly condescension in her voice. It worked; I felt pretty stupid just then.

"Huh? Why would I...?"

She arched an eyebrow. "Isn't that your plan? Get some naked pictures of me, make sure you have leverage in case I get un-mind-controlled?"

Wow. It somehow hadn't occurred to me to do something so straightforward. That was a lot simpler than my plan of using the Sterns. She sure leapt to that assumption about my intentions quickly, though. Should I be offended?

"Uh, yes?" Why did I make that a question? Here was one of, if not the hottest teachers in school inviting me to take pictures of her showering. What was I supposed to say, "naw, lame plan"?

To tell the truth, as I entered the bathroom and took my place in front of the open shower door, I was barely bothering with the camera. Why watch her on the screen of her phone when I could just stare at the genuine article in all its glory? Her slim, taut body gleamed head to toe under the sheen of steam, water beading across her chest and slowly dribbling down to the underside of each breast. It was like a game, waiting to see if each trickle and droplet would trail down her stomach or drip right down through the air.

I could have stared at this all day.

"Do you think it's better if I pose, or just act naturally?" she asked, adding, "Sorry if the loofah's in the way, but I actually do need to get clean, too."

"Um, maybe posing? And smiling, yeah. The shower door's open, after all, so not like anyone seeing these would think you didn't know you were being watched."

"Yeah, that's smart. OK, sure." She clasped the loofah to her chest with both hands and cocked one knee forward, and I swear, the sight of Ms. Salata's naked, glistening ass in profile almost did me in then and there. An experienced observer might say she didn't know how to model, that she largely alternated between the simple acts of thrusting out her butt, thrusting out her chest, or both. I couldn't have cared less. My preconceptions about the sex appeal of body types was realigning itself even as I looked.

"God, your fucking tits look amazing like that."

Oh crap, did I say that out loud?

Candy frowned. "Please don't use that word."

"What, fucking? Or tits?"

"I suppose either, but I meant the latter. I don't go for the whole dirty talk thing with Isa, and I sure as hell don't want to hear it from some random coworker. OK?" Then, as if to confirm the utterance had offended her only in its vulgarity and not in its clear relation to her behavior, she cupped her breasts, one in each hand, kneading and caressing them for the camera.

"Sure, sure. Sorry. Just... damn, Isa's a lucky woman." Her nipples hardened as she played. "You know, when you first started at GHS, I was actually trying to flirt with you?"

"I know. Half the single men on staff did. At least you were more subtle about it than Coach Krieger. He literally cornered me in the lounge one day. Would not stop talking at me. I started to wonder if he just meant to keep me there until I surrendered or what." Her eyes flicked to her phone in my outstretched hand. "Of course, he didn't drug me and my girlfriend and film me in the shower, so..."

"Yeah, yeah. Use more soap."

Her nostrils flared at my command, but she did it, fetching a fancy-looking artisanal bottle from the caddy slung over the nozzle. Fresh suds bloomed across her torso as she massaged the fragrant oil into her skin. I could barely make out the discomfort and disdain in her eyes. She couldn't be blamed, I guess. I hadn't made her want this like Taylor inadvertently had with Abbie. But still, the traces were there.

"Come on, smile for the camera, Candy," I said, modeling one such. Instead, she flipped me the bird and went back to pinching her left nipple. "I'm serious. If these are going to work for keeping you quiet, they can't look coerced. Right?"

She stopped, glared openly, then flicked a splash of soapy water at me. "Fine." My coworker turned to face the stream, lowering her head under the spray. "Are you taking pictures, or video?"

"Um, pictures." Technically true. I think I'd taken three or four so far, and I wasn't even sure if they showed her. I didn't care.

Her petite breasts heaved in and out, as much as they could anyway, as she steeled herself. Then practically before I knew what was happening, she turned back to me, a broad smile on her face. "Stop!" she cried, but she was giggling in apparent glee as she swatted playfully at the space in front of the camera. "You're such a fucking pig, Canon! I can't believe you're going around dosing women with some shit you don't even understand!" She splashed me playfully. "And now I have to let you record me in the shower like some garden variety whore!" She feebly tried to cover her breasts with one arm, her pussy with the other. As seemed to be her intent, the act did more to draw the eyes than thwart them, and with how much she was wiggling and squirming, it failed completely at covering her body.

"Like, ohmygosh, if there's a hell, you're going to the lowest level! You do realize that right? Heehee!" Candy shifted from the faux embarrassment act and went to the opposite extreme, leaning against the far wall of the shower and spreading her labia for me. "One-way ticket, first class, all the way down. Haha!"

One would think that, being served this compact bundle of sensuality served up on a platter of steamy suds, my mind would be incapable of wandering. But instead, as Candy's middle finger teased between the folds of her labia, probing at her swelling clit, I had a flashback to one day last fall.

It had been right before Halloween, I recalled, my memory somehow retaining the presence of cheap paper pumpkins stuck to the window, drooping even before their short-lived utility had been reached. Funny though, I couldn't remember exactly what had brought me to Ms. Salata's classroom that day. It was pretty rare for me to need to stop by the room of someone outside my department.

Anyway, what brought me back to it was the memory of that moment when I walked in. She'd been helping a student with an assignment, bent over with her palms on their desk. At her questioning glance at my arrival, I'd motioned to continue, no rush on my account. My patience, however, had not been born out of courtesy, but rather out of the way her ass looked in those pants. Tight enough I could make out her panty lines, which were a lot narrower than I would have thought. The detail only helped paint a picture in my mind of what it would have looked like without those pants in the way. I hadn't stared, per se, but any man would have at least looked.

And then I caught a female student looking at me, and her eyes went back to that ass, back to me, and the girl somehow managed to simultaneously smirk and sneer at having caught me. I narrowed my eyes as a soft rebuke of her correct assessment, then went on with whatever it was I'd come for.

But I'd gone home that night and satisfied myself at length to the memory of that image. It hadn't made its way into my playlist, as it were, but perhaps it ought to have. If not for that student intruding on my admiration, it might have.

That student had been Taylor Stern. Because who else would it have been.

"Turn around."

"Really? We have to have enough by now. And if you can't see my face, it's not exactly useful as blackmail. Unless we've moved beyond 'the plan' now."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, if you're done prepping for the eventuality of blackmail and are now just enjoying yourself, say so, and let's get on with things." She sighed, brushed a strand of hair off of her forehead, and turned away from me. There it was. The ass, straight-on, unobstructed, posed for consumption. "Not like I can do anything about it, so have your fun."

Something in that made me look up for a moment. "What do you mean, you can't do anything about it? This was your idea."

"Uh, no, I just figured out your idea before I had to hear you say it. I agree, making sure I have something so humiliating hanging over my head that I'd never betray you is smart. I'm not sure this will be enough, but it's a good start." For the life of me, I couldn't say why I got so turned on hearing her agree to that. "But if you just want to leer at me, watch me shower, then that's just you being a pervert. It's fine, I already knew you were, but own it, and get on with it."

"I'm... I'm not, ah..."

"The hell you're not, Canon. Now relax, I guess, and get on with it. I mean, what am I gonna do? Report you to HR? Call the police? Tell Isa? You know as well as I do I can't cause you any trouble." She planted her hands on the wall. It may as well have been that kid's desk. Her back arched, her ass thrust back. The water was hitting the small of her back, pooling there, then running off along her ribs, and right down the lines of her ass.

So yes, six seconds ago I had been excoriated for reprogramming her to be the perfect victim, but my mind was six months ago. Only this time, there was no judgmental student watching. To quote the woman whose butt I was reaching out to pinch, not like she can do anything about it. It was too slippery to get much of a grip, but that didn't stop me from trying again.

And again.

"Really? Fucking really?" Her head swiveled to face me, scowling murderously. It was intimidating enough that I pulled back -- at least, after a couple more seconds -- and held my hands up in surrender.

"Fine, fine. Sorry, I couldn't help myself." Oh, fuck it. I gave it a few pats. And a squeeze. But that was it. "Finish up in here. Take your time. I'll be in the living room, but feel free to hide out back here if you're feeling put upon, Candy." One last squeeze.

"Candace." My god, she hadn't even adjusted out of her pose, as I was still watching. Did not offering herself up like a rack of lamb constitute 'causing Mr. Canon trouble' to her warped mind? Jesus, this Serenex stuff was dangerous. In the wrong hands, that is.

"You're too sweet not to be Candy, Candy." One more squeeze, a quick stroke along the length of her exposed pussy, and I finally left the bathroom.

There was company coming, after all.