Love in Troubled Times

by Gayle Riley

  I fumbled. “No, Kate. Tell me you didn’t cheat on Simon.” Sweet Simon who worshipped the ground she walked on. He loved Kate as much as an eighteen-year-old could. We had become a threesome, Simon becoming a great friend to me.

  Kate glanced towards the window, not answering me. It was fleeting, but I saw the guilt shining in her eyes.

  My mind is racing because cheating was something I didn’t think Kate could do. She would rather break it off than cheat.

  She answered after a few minutes. “It happened one time. The sex was great. Passionate. Clingy. It was raw fucking,” she explained.

  “But like everything else, that will fade to mutual attraction and like for each other,” I said gently, trying to sway her decision. Kate was a hopeless believer in sparks flying, chemistry sizzling. “You’ve seen it firsthand hand with my parents.”

  My parents had a love marriage. It was great for the first couple of years until it fizzled into nothing. Dad kept trying to regain that connection, that spark. But my mother had become bitter after years living in his shadow, following a man and giving up her career. She grew bored and restless. But my dad never stopped trying.

  Until he died.

  I lived alone.

  I was only seventeen—about to turn eighteen—when child services learned of my case. I begged to be able to continue to live on my own. I was going to turn eighteen by the time I graduated. The mortgage was already paid off. And my dad’s life insurance policy would cover my college expenses.

  I was pragmatic. I believed in mutual respect, kinship and adoration, but passionate, crazy love didn’t exist in my world. It fizzled into a shell of what it used to be.

  “You don’t understand, Lily. You may be right but I want to find that out for myself. I want to get hurt. I want to fight. Simon and I never fight. We’re comfortable with each other. Fuck comfortable.” Kate stared off into space.

  I studied her resolve. I thought back to that charged energy I felt with Mr. Carter. That single encounter with him was more heightened experience I had, more so than any other boy.

  That connection was elusive and to think that I had found it with my math teacher was weird. The same math teacher who was there because my dad was cruelly taken away from me way too early.

  Life was so fucking unfair and it didn’t even give a shit. It threw shit at you and you had to take it whether you chose to or not.

  I didn’t choose Mr. Carter and that spark but I’ll be damned if I didn’t fight back.

  Chapter 5

  “A moment, Ms. Lily.” My wrist was gripped tightly in a steely hand. Leaving me no choice but to stay back with Mr. Carter.

  We went at it again in class, arguing. He kept picking on me thinking I couldn’t answer the questions. I answered every single one. He forgot I was the daughter of a math teacher. Math was my favorite subject. I took everything he dished.

  But that didn’t mean I liked being called upon.

  So I became a smart ass. And rude.

  Every time he got in my face our breaths turned heavy and our eyes smoldered.

  “Hurry up, I have English next.” I narrowed my eyes at him. I had free period after this but he didn’t need to know that.

  “I’ll take my time.” His voice was firm and resolute. He was sorely pissed and full of pent up frustration and caged energy.

  He was going to unleash it on me.

  I couldn’t help the involuntary shiver.

  He let go of my arm and went to lock the door.

  “Why are you locking the door?”

  “To ensure we are not disturbed when I discipline you.”

  “And what’s the worst you can do? Detention?” I said sarcastically.

  “No, trust me, I can do worse. This is the third class where we’ve wasted precious class time arguing.” He grabbed my hands, maneuvering them on the edge of the desk flat so I was slightly bent from the waist. My ass was sticking out.

  In the back of my mind, I knew we had crossed over the inappropriate lines and boundaries were being crossed.

  Boundaries were already crossed when he engaged with me in class. He could have easily ignored me or sent me to detention.

  But he didn’t. I got the feeling that he enjoyed it.

  We were both in too far to retreat from the challenge of outdoing each other. Both of our prides were too big to back down.

  He was standing behind me when he reached over, his body pressed against mine, to pull the ruler sticking out of his briefcase.

  That touch seared across my whole back, raising an awareness new to me. I felt butterflies in the pit of my stomach. Reflexively, I tried to stand and his hand was at my holding me down.

  “Stay like that,” he demanded.

  “This is inappropriate.” I tried, feebly, as a last line of defense to pull us back from the rabbit hole we were falling down into. But I wasn’t so sure if I wanted to be pulled back.

  I wanted to fall down the rabbit hole. With him.

  I like the control leaving me. Liked the decision leaving my mind. All I focused on was my position as Mr. Carter breath whooshed over my neck, raising the tiny hairs on my neck in pricked awareness.

  “Ah,” I gasped as the ruler struck down my ass in quick successions of three.

  He spanked me. He was spanking me.

  My pussy clenched and I closed my legs trying to quench the need.

  I heard Mr. Carter heavy breaths. I was affecting him. And he was, me.

  I bent lower, pushing my ass further out, resting my chest on the desk as he rained the ruler upon my ass. At this, Mr. Carter put one of his hand flat on my back forcing my hands to give out and lay me halfway across the desk.

  The ruler lashes stopped suddenly. I waited in bated breath for what was to come. My being concentrated in that moment. All the thoughts and stress leaving me. My being was consumed on what was to come.

  He placed the ruler on the desk and his hands kneaded and massaged my sore butt cheeks, softening the sting of the ruler.

  My eyes drifting close.

  “There,” he whispered.

  He grasped my arm to pull me up. I lazily followed his lead. My eyes sleepy, face flushed and delirious from the heady sensations pulsating through my body.

  He tilted my chin up with the ruler, making me gaze into his hazel eyes.

  “Next time, remember this when you question me in front of the class. Understood, Ms. Lily?”

  “Understood.”

  With the corner of his lips upturned, “You’re dismissed,” he said.

  He grabbed his belongings—briefcase and coat—and exited the classroom.

  “See you tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

  Leaving me gaping after him

  I thought—I thought—I don’t know what I thought. I thought he would help with the pulsation that was taking over my body.

  Instead he left.

  Jackass, I fumed.

  Chapter 6

  The following day, I walked into Mr. Carter’s class with trepidation and clammy hands. I proceeded to stare at the tiled floor as I headed to my seat. Trying to potentially avoid any encounter.

  I gave a huge sigh of relief as I reached my seat, two more steps left—the end so close.

  “Ms. Lily.”

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  After a deep breath, I turned toward him, waiting.

  Mr. Carter stood a couple feet away from me, dressed in a charcoal suit and black tie with one hand tucked away in his pocket. He insisted upon wearing suits when most of the teachers wore business casual.

  That insistence paid off in every female student’s dreams and gushing giggles. He looked so sexy and sophisticated that the suits should be banned.

  I hated that I could feel that electrifying thread between us and I wanted to snap the thread. I shouldn’t have this reaction towards him.

  Mr. Carter cleared his throat.

  Unbeknownst to us, we stood across each other, staring at the other, our eyes searching for a
clue to the puzzling connection between us.

  He nodded his chin towards an empty desk placed in front of his desk, situating me in direct view of him. “That’s your newly assigned seat.”

  I glanced over to the seat he gestured to and then the gazed around the students who were staring with rapt attention as if this was their daily soap opera.

  Everyone was sitting in their same respective seats. The only seat that had changed was mine.

  I mulled over my options. Two seconds later, I decisively walked toward my seat at the back of the class.

  I didn’t know the reason but the idea of threatening the sleeping dragon—that I’ve seen shades of, lurking under his suits—excited me. Thrilled me.

  Because the few times he roared his fire, it warmed and settled between my bones. I loved the feeling which I haven’t felt in a while. It was a high I craved.

  He was a high I, so desperately, craved.

  I didn’t need to know the theory of quantum physics to decipher that he was gnashing his teeth together in frustration of my defiance towards him and his commands.

  I loved the thrill of what was to come after class.

  I was single handedly singled-out to receive a dressing down. Just the thought of it shot a tingles down my spine that I shuddered.

  If I was lucky it would be with a ruler.

  After that first incident, Mr. Carter had expected me to cry, balk and or report him to the principal going by his attitude the following day.

  But I never cried or reported him.

  I clashed with Mr. Carter again that class.

  And again and again each class

  I was held back again afterwards.

  And punished.

  Deliciously.

  Each time, the punishment escalated to forbidden, taboo touches.

  Each time, we were left panting for more but held back.

  I was jostled back from my musings when a kid hollered at my bold defiance.

  I sat down in my old seat and folded my hands on top of the desk. And waited for the lesson to start.

  Mr. Carter wasn’t surprised going by the quirk of his mouth. His eyes glimmered, roaming over my face. Sometimes I wondered if he purposely roused me to get a reaction and forced to deliver a punishment later.

  Everyone waited with a bated breath to see what would Mr. Carter would do next.

  After studying me for a few seconds, he strode over to where I was seated.

  “You leave me with no other choice,” he said, before bending down and lifting the whole desk with me, effortlessly.

  “Gah,” I yelled as my feet left the ground. I thrashed my legs, careful not to fall down, trying to kick him. I grabbed his tie and tried to pull him down.

  But the man was unmovable as a mountain. He just stared ahead and strode down the aisle. The motherfucker had lifted the desk with me still sitting and set me down to his designated seat.

  “Do the practice unit three test and if it’s not completed when I’m done, I’ll bury all of you in so much extra assignments that you guys won’t be able to see over it,” Mr. Carter threatened the class, distracting their attention away from us.

  The kids groaned and I heard the rustled movements and textbooks scraping across the desks and whispers.

  He crowded me, crouching over the back of me. Our cheeks almost pressed together but not quite.

  The top two buttons of my shirt was purposely unbuttoned. To defy the rules.

  But, now as he stood over me, I wish I hadn’t unbuttoned it. He had a clear view of my breast peeking out of my bra. I could his heated gaze there and, in response, my skin was flushed.

  Added to that was the forbidden touches and knowing that nobody could see what he was doing.

  “We’ve seemed to find ourselves in quite of a dilemma here, Ms. Lily,” he whispered.

  I gazed at him from the corner of my eye and, angrily, whispered back. “You have some fucking gall to manhandle me like that.”

  He murmured, “That I do.”

  His fingers traced the flushed skin peeking from the two popped buttons, trailing further down until his fingers grazed the valley between my breast.

  Soft and commanding. An alluring combination.

  I closed my eyes as the sensation traveling south were too much for me to handle. “Everybody can see us,” I said.

  “No, they can’t. They’re preoccupied,” he said, after he turned his head back to the class. “I’m covering you. I won’t let them see.” He promised, protectively.

  “Why are you doing this?” I protested weakly—consumed by my body’s need for something more.

  He fingers slid down further down my shirt through the elastic waistband of my skirt.

  Slowly. Surely. Softly.

  I sat still, waiting and waiting for it to reach that ache.

  His fingers trailed under my skirt to reach my panties and his fingers slid the panties aside. I felt the cold air breeze upon my womanhood.

  His fingers glided across my center, teasing. Our backs covering his hand from the rest of the class only enhanced the pleasure.

  I bit my lip to stop the moan threatening to break free. I squirmed against his touch

  “You make me crazy and I want to do things to you. Dirty things. And when you choose to defy me and be headstrong and beautiful, I want to take you over my knee. Now bear the consequences.” His two fingers parted my lips.

  “But this isn’t punishment,” I whispered-gasped as one finger entered me, roughly.

  The foreign sensation of something pumping in me wasn’t unpleasant. I wanted more. I needed more. I scooted forward to impale myself on that finger.

  “It can be. The sweetest punishment. Take you so far high and…” He left me hanging, not finishing his sentence. Instead, he added a second finger, stretching me further.

  “And?” I asked breathlessly. I was honed in on the thrusting of his fingers. In and out. The pleasure was building and building. Almost reaching the peak.

  “And then stop,” he chuckled. And his fingers just did that.

  The motherfucker stopped.

  His fingers were still inside me, unmoving. The release I craved was snatched away from me. “That’s cruel,” I panted.

  “That’s your punishment,” he retorted

  “I’ll finish myself.”

  My fingers proceeded to do that when he grabbed my hand and ordered me. “You do not touch yourself,” he said in a harsh voice.

  And I listened.

  He sniffed his fingers that were coated in my juices. His eye crinkled when he gazed upon my frustrated, flushed, heady body.

  “Patience,” he said before he fixed my clothing and stood.

  “That is the correct answer. Ms. Lily. Now, that you’ve learned your lesson, maybe you practice on keeping your mouth shut,” he winked.

  I was left gaping at him

  I couldn’t believe all that just happened.

  In view of the whole class.

  And I didn’t learn my lesson. Because I responded. I wanted another punishment.

  I yawned. “I see you talk but all I hear is blah.”

  His eyes met mine and flashed.

  “Looks like our lesson here was unsuccessful. We’ll have to do more after class.”

  “Yes we do,” I said softly.

  For the first time, we agreed with each other.

  Chapter 7

  “Assume your position.”

  Instead of placing my hands on the edge of the desk, I placed my upper body flat on the desk, my ass jutting out, brushing his bulge. I reached back and flipped my skirt up and baring my ass. I was bare and open when I spread my legs apart. My slit, which was trembling in need, was open and glistening.

  While he focused on helping the kids with the assignment, I quickly pulled down my panties. I couldn’t bear the sticky and wet panties rubbing against me. It reminded me that his sexy fingers had been there rubbing me only moments ago.

  The ball was now in his court
. Now I wanted feel those balls when he slammed into my pussy.

  “Fuck me,” he bit out painfully.

  He placed both of his hands instinctively on the globes of my ass, feeling their weight and palming it.

  I must have imagined but I swear I felt him ever so slightly thrust into my ass, mimicking the motions.

  I was dragged back up and flipped onto my back. My legs barely touched the ground. I propped myself on my elbows so I could him rather than the ceiling.

  He flicked my skirt up with his ruler. Making my pussy bare to him.

  I gasped at the sudden cold ruler, touching my core. “What are you doing?” I feebly protested. As if that was something to do.

  “I warned you of the consequences. But it seems like you need a stricter punishment so the lesson is grasped better.”

  His dominant voice did something to me.

  He continued staring at my center with a heated gaze. “Do you want me to stop?” he murmured. He was giving me an opportunity to back out.

  I thought about it. I felt the most alive in months when I was around him. I enjoyed the control leaving me and him taking over—to please me. To discipline me. We were in too far to back out now.

  “No, Mr. Carter,” I answered.

  He was immensely pleased by the quick flash of a smile. When he smiled, the effect was devastating.

  “Call me Dean.”

  “Dean,” I repeated, whispering his name intimately.

  He opened my cunt with his fingers. With his other hand, he dragged the tip of the ruler barely inside me. My eyes drifted close as I moaned.

  Suddenly, my eyes flew open as he spanked me there with his ruler.

  He paused, waiting for me to either scamper away or slap him.

  I did neither. I glanced back impatiently. “Get on with it,” I said in a bored tone.

  He chuckled, the sound making my head spin. He took that as affirmation to continue the onslaught against my cunt. I was getting wet and wetter. I felt my juices leaking out of me on to the desk. My pussy aching with longing and need.

  He rubbed the ruler in my juices, spreading the liquid. He brought the rulers to his nose and inhaled the musky scent. My body craved a release that was elusive. He brought the ruler back at my opening just putting the tip in and I almost burst.