Teaching Her a Lesson Pt. 19

Part Nineteen: Barriers to Learning

It's a cliché, but not an untrue one, that teachers learn as much from their students as their students learn from them. In the five years I'd been teaching, I'd taught English at all four high school grade levels as well as an introductory speech class. Vocabulary, literacy skills, critical thinking, self-expression, rhetoric, culture, along with all those aspects of the hidden curriculum like self-esteem, creativity, punctuality, discipline, and self-respect.

As to what I'd learned? Too much to name. How to make a friendship bracelet. Local restaurants to avoid on principle. How to recognize abuse. The right way and the wrong way to dab. Which teachers didn't carry their weight, and which ones carried more than I could imagine. Some rudimentary Spanish. A whole lot of things about leadership and teamwork. And patience. Never enough patience, but so much more than I'd had.

Tabitha and I learned a lot from each other that weekend.

I learned that she'd been a dancer in her earlier years, pressured into it by her parents. It was one of those formal styles that didn't translate very well into the sort of dancing I might someday help her study, but she'd learned balance, grace and flexibility. She performed a few maneuvers for me, admittedly elegant, but also confirming that it wasn't especially sexy. She could do the splits, though. I didn't know what that was good for, but it was easy on the eyes.

Tabitha learned that deep-throating did not come to her as naturally as licking. She resolved to practice when she got home.

I learned that she was very self-conscious about men seeing her naked. Evidently some creep had walked into her bedroom at a party her dad had been throwing a ways back when she'd been in middle school. Not traumatizing, she insisted - her father had found unrelated grounds to fire the man not long after - but that anxiety around being seen and looked at had stuck. Even when she'd been amorous with her boyfriend, she'd never let him get farther than the underwear, and then only in the dark. Per her insistence on honesty, I shared that I understood but was indeed disappointed. She made an exception that night, slowly undressing for me with obvious embarrassment. Her whole body turned crimson, but I didn't look away. She'd demanded I not. And I was glad for it, because she was stunning. Her fair skin was dusted with tiny freckles, even across her pair of cute, perky breasts and all the way down to her densely furred pussy. Skinny as she was, I could hardly believe how round her butt was. Still, once undressed, she crawled into bed beside me, and after a brief reassurance that she was beautiful, we both fell asleep.

Tabitha learned, as Cassie had not long ago, that I am very gropy in my sleep. It wasn't something that had ever afflicted me with past lovers - not that they'd told me, at least, and I had to imagine they would. Must just be the company.

I learned that some Christians always kneel when they pray. I'd assumed Tabitha was a Christian from the gold cross necklace that had been revealed by the removal of her sweater, but sometimes jewelry is simply jewelry. When I woke up the next morning, it was to the sight of my naked honors student kneeling beside my bed, eyes lowered, lips moving silently with her hands in her lap.

Tabitha learned that trying to cook eggs while I played with her pussy took more coordination than I had eggs. Luckily there was some cereal on hand, too.

I learned that it was possible for a girl going on nineteen, one who had been at least somewhat sexually active with her boyfriend, to not know what her clitoris was for. Sex ed had apparently failed her in that regard. I washed down my Cheerios with a half dozen of her orgasms. That wide-eyed shock on her face when I laid back down beside her, now having realized why people made such fuss about sex and sexuality, was priceless.

Tabitha learned that I did not want her to insert a finger or any foreign object in my ass. Ever. (She assured me the same went for her, unless I disapproved.)

I learned that not only did she really expect me to grade her on her sexual performance, but she thrived on it. I felt a little uncomfortable doing so at first - even what I'd done with Isa and Candy felt less dickish than telling the girl who'd spent half an hour massaging my back that she got a C- for it on account of long fingernails and a tendency to pinch. She made damn sure I didn't withhold criticism, though. Really, why would I? She meant to practice, and she wasn't going to get better if I didn't give her some guidance.

Other results were more promising. We mutually agreed that her attempt at getting me off with her tits alone was a plain F, though we'd both said we expected as much going in. With her curiosity satisfied, we accepted the limitations of her petite build. Her twerking routine earned a solid B, a talent she'd honed during its brief fad workout status and had quietly enjoyed practicing. The skirt flashed me her panties on the regular, which was appealing, but would have been better if she'd simply gone without. Makeout skills were at a C+ first time out. Good kisser, but didn't know what to do with her hands and had a few too many of those "gosh I can't believe I'm doing this with a teacher" moments out loud.

When implored to grade individual parts of her body, I assured her she was an aggregate A and insisted that there was no sense assessing her on things she couldn't improve. (Then we argued about whether or not she should be allowed to cut her hair to my preference, explore extreme diet and exercise techniques, or get a boob job.)

(Then we spent an hour looking at an app that showed us what her augmented boobs might look like, and I promised to at least consider it before I dismissed it out of hand.)

As a dedicated pupil, Tabitha preferred empirical results, however, monitoring my reactions like a hawk with a mouse. Every sexual interaction was followed by a review process that even involved her taking some notes on her phone. She let me look over her list before she went home. It included things like:

talk like slut

lap = 4 flirt, not hang out

eye contact!!

float tit job 2 mom, ham up insecurity

don't touch nipples :(

swallow then back off → sensitive after comes!

likes dramatic orgasm (no prob)

what R his tastes? → fashion show? (underwear?)

DON'T MENTION JUSTIN

That last one was aptly capitalized.

I did receive a text from Taylor early Saturday afternoon.What, not even gonna bitch and moan?

No, I answered.

lol the fucking silent treatment are you kidding me???

1st time in your life you didn't look for an excuse to lecture me

Half an hour later cameoh come on don't pout, but I didn't respond and that was as far as it went.

A few hours later, it was time for Tabitha to be getting home. We both had plans for the evening, and wanted time to rest and prepare for them. The afternoon had been spent helping teach Tabitha to be more comfortable being naked around me, and I was sad to see her get dressed. She looked ravishing nevertheless in a thin white summer dress she'd packed in her overnight bag, her hair still wet from her shower, where I had personally supervised her cleaning herself. (Her request - she'd called it "tutoring.")

"It's going to be so trippy in class Monday, seeing you and knowing that we... and that we're going to..."

I nodded. "You get used to it."

I'd meant it lightheartedly, but the offhand reference to Taylor made her scowl instead. "I suppose you would."

Topic shift time. "I'll have more structured material for you next time. Had to sort of wing it today, but I think you made some progress."

"Good. I definitely felt more confident this afternoon than I did last night. Sore, though. But a good sore, I think?"

"It'll pass."

"As all things do. So... later, I guess."

"Yeah. Monday at 12:50 sharp."

There was no hug, no kiss goodbye. Tabitha simply nodded and opened the door. Only she didn't walk through, and then, after a moment, shut it and turned back to me. "Mr. Canon? Why didn't you have sex with me?"

Oh. "Well, I, um..."

"Do you not want to?"

"Tabitha, every guy who lays eyes on you wants to have sex with you, I promise you."

"That's... gross." Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "Still, I don't offer myself to every guy. I offered myself to you. So why didn't you? What did I do wrong?"

The truth was that after our morning romp, I was saving a little juice for Isa and Candy. I was having fun with my new curriculum, yes, but I hadn't forgotten about this evening, and was looking forward to it too much to go in with drained balls. I couldn't exactly tell that to Tabitha, though.

"I will, Tabitha. But you don't start off with a sonnet, right? You start off with a rhyming couplet and build from there."

"Yeah, I guess." She didn't look exactly thrilled by the explanation, but gave me a nod and opened the door to the garage. I really ought to do something about these girls coming and going from my house in broad daylight, but for now that wasn't my concern.

I owed her better.

I caught up to her just before she opened the door from the garage into the back yard. "Tabitha, wait." She stopped with her hand on the doorknob, looking back in surprise. "One last assignment before you go."

"OK..." Her eyes narrowed, but she didn't question. Our little game had been fun so far, after all.

"I'm going to give you the instructions. When I'm done, you follow them, and not before. Understand?"

"Sure." She set her purse down on my tool bench, anticipating that whatever was about to happen, she wouldn't need it.

"Good. Now when I tell you, I want you to come around to this side of my car. Then I want you to bend yourself over the hood. Arch your back for me." A wry smile returned to her face as she saw where this was going. "Then I want you to flip up your dress and show me your panties. Then pull down your panties and show me that perfect little ass."

"You really don't have to do this, you know, Mr. Canon."

"I wasn't finished," I snapped. "Once your ass is ready, you're to persuade me to fuck you. Any way you like, so long as you hold that position. Keep at it until I'm ready to give you what you want."

"You want me to beg for sex?" Her expression conveyed her displeasure at the notion.

"Begin, Ms. Hutchings."

With a little sigh, she complied. I'd really loved the way her silk panties looked on her ass, lustrous turquoise against ivory skin. I stepped down into the garage with her as she lowered them, exposing her pussy to the cool air.

With her cheek pressed to the metal of my hood, Tabitha turned to look at me. "Fuck me, Mr. Canon."

I stepped closer, only a few feet away. "Why."

She hadn't anticipated the simple question. Her eyes darted nervously as she processed. "Because I'm horny. Because you made me so goddamn horny all morning long, and now I need to be fucked. By you. By my teacher. My my hot fucking stud of an English teacher. Please, Mr. Canon. I need it. Show me I'm fuckable. Show me you want to fuck me like you fucked all those other girls. Fuck me."

In her pleading, she had missed the sound of me whipping my cock out. She did not miss it, however, when I pressed my tip to her slit. It was so hot it practically sizzled. She sucked a gasp in through her teeth.

"I like how ready you are," I said. Her body shuddered in delight. "New course expectation: bethis ready for me at any time I might want you."

"You... you want me to be wet and horny... all the time?"

"Whenever we're in proximity."

"Even during class?"

"Especially during class."

"Mr. Canon, I... I can't! I can't just lube up on command!"

"So learn."

"Even if I could...! Shit, I'd need to carry around an extra pair of panties in my purse to change before seventh period!"

"So pack an extra pair."

I caught her squirming back, trying to smuggle my cock inside her. I stopped her with a hard slap on her exposed ass. "Ow! Did you just...spank me?!"

I spanked her again. "And that one was for interrupting me earlier."

"You can't spank a student - it's against the rules!"

"The same rules that say I shouldn't fuck my students. Do you really want me to go by those rules?"

Her eyes squeezed shut in frustration. "No," she huffed.

"All right then." I pulled back and calmly but audibly zipped my gear back in my pants.

Her face whirled around to look up at me in dismay. "Wait, are you not going to...?!"

"The assignment was to get me ready to fuck you. Which, by the way, you managed to do in under a minute. I was honestly impressed. I never would have thought that my little Tabitha could beg for cock with such gusto. A+ effort."

There it was, that recognizable tremor in her body when my words went straight to her clit. I seized the opportunity, slipping a finger gently inside her. I'd meant to add a second, but she was so tight I wasn't sure she could take it. I dragged that orgasm out at my leisure as she clawed and pounded on the hood of my car.

"I can't wait until we've gotten you ready to be fucked, Tabitha." I withdrew suddenly and patted her bare ass, slimy fingerprints glistening in the dim light from the window to the back yard. "Now get on home before your parents start to worry."

Megan was mowing my lawn when I left. We shared a wave and a smile. I risked a look up at Cassie's bedroom window, where I saw her staring after me. Even at that distance, the sorrow on her face was evident. Poor thing. I'd have to throw her a bone later. I doubted I'd have the energy for it tonight, but maybe once I got caught up on work tomorrow. She might even make for a decent test subject for my lesson plans for Tabitha. Hell, maybe I could enroll her in the class, too, let them compete for valedictorian status. No rush to decide. I'd do what I felt was right.

That was something I needed to get more intentional about. Too much reacting, too many decisions being made for me by others. That was going to be my summer resolution - think about what I wanted, and plan accordingly. The last two weeks of the semester were always the most hectic. All grading needed to be done less than twenty-four hours after the last instruction day to keep pace with reporting requirements for graduating seniors and the limits on teacher availability according to the school calendar. Once I made it through the school year, though, things would be different. No more being led by the nose by the Sterns. Frankly, if this was the sort of trouble they were going to drop into my lap, maybe it was time to simply let them go their own ways. Tabitha, Candy, Isa and the Browns were way more than enough for me - any one of them was plenty - and even if my cock rebelled at the thought of relinquishing its favorites, it was a small price to pay for what peace of mind my situation could afford me.

I'd taken the afternoon to reflect on yesterday's events with Justin. Sure enough, the passage of time had done its usual healing work. What they had done was distasteful, yes. If that was how they'd felt about what I'd done to them, however, then I owed them an apology in turn. Or maybe our mutual obligation to apologize canceled one another out. Regardless, it was a lesson learned, and I'd be more sensitive to my lovers' interests going forward.

As for what it meant about me... there was nothing to it. I'd thought it was one of my girls; I'd enjoyed it because I'd thought it was one of my girls; I'd come because, whether or not I was loathe to admit it, he'd done a good job impersonating my girls. My hetero cred was certainly not in doubt (considering how many gorgeous women I was sleeping with), nor should it matter even if it were. I'd gotten the homophobia I'd learned in grade school out of my system before finishing high school; that I'd reacted as I had didn't make me a bigot. It was how any person would react to finding they'd been duped into that sort of act with a person they didn't want to do it with; the shock to my hetero sensibilities had been real, but had passed. Period end.

It was remarkable how hollow the thoughtcoming in another guy's mouth doesn't make you gay sounded, I reflected as I parked my car in Isa and Candy's driveway. Well, whatever. As with so many interactions with Taylor and Justin, I'd simply have to be the bigger person. Nothing to help with that like fucking the hell out of your hot colleague and her hot cop girlfriend.

I rang the doorbell. This time, I'd brought no bottle of wine, instead only a steely resolve. In a way, I owed some credit to Tabitha. She'd prepped me to be more assertive, to take charge and demand results. It was a strange dynamic with a student, stranger by far with colleagues.

Isa greeted me at the door; I only knew it was her because of the voice that murmured a subdued "come in" from the far side. She opened the door only enough to smuggle me inside, but rather than slip through the gap, I stood my ground on the front steps.

"Open it all the way."

"But... fuck! Fine." It opened further, until it showed the oddly empty entryway of their home. It would have seemed the door opened by magic except that I knew who was hiding on the far side.

"Come out and greet me. I want to see you."

"But I'm... I can't! Shit,please don't make me do that," she whined.

"That wasn't a request, Louisa."

After our encounter in her office, my doubt that she would comply was gone. It was simply a matter of how long she could hold out before she broke. In this case, it was an impressive ten seconds before she slunk out from behind the door. Her reticence was logical. She was wearing nothing but a set of elaborate but slutty lingerie. Royal purple was its primary shade, with black trim and connectors, more straps and buckles than I could keep track of. It was the sort of underwear that served as gift wrapping, right down to the little black bows in the strings tying her panties on over two rounded hips. With her standing in front of her wide-thrown door greeting me in it, it further served to announce her asmy gift.

She looked incredible. In fact, I told her so.

"Thank you, master. Now would youplease come in?" she asked heatedly.

I let her sweat for a few more seconds, eyes flitting around to watch for passing cars or neighbors out for a stroll, before I came in. The door slammed shut right on my heels, followed by a sigh of relief I only just made out as I kicked off my shoes.

May as well get comfortable. I meant to be here for a while.

"Where's our girl?" I asked, glancing around.

"Candace will be out in a moment. She's still making herself presentable, since you decided to surprise us by showing up an hour and a half early." The rebuke was subtle, but present.

"Oh yeah? You seemed to be ready in no time. What's her excuse?"

"You'd put more emphasis on my appearance, so we agreed I should get first run at the bathroom. And, um..." She winced. "Never mind."

"Come on, come on, out with it."

"I've, um, sort of been wearing this all day," she mumbled. God, I loved that pout in her voice.

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

I had to make her repeat it, she was so muted. "Isaid, 'you told me you wanted me to wear it today, and I get off on being a submissive little bitch.' Master."

Ignoring that fire in her eyes, I gestured for her to spin for me. "Come on, let's have a look-see. Just because you have that rack doesn't mean I'm not interested in the back."

"Rhyming misogyny now. How eloquent." She obeyed, however. Obviously. Damn. The panties weren't a thong, quite, but they rode pretty deep. There wasn't much left to the imagination, but my imagination was working overtime nevertheless. Her ass received an appreciative pinch.