by Aria Blue
Dean’s Delight
(Book Two of the Principal of Pleasure)
Aria Blue
Contact me. I’d love to hear from you!
[email protected]
Join my mailing list to stay up-to-date on new releases and book deals: http://eepurl.com/b6mX7P
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used factiously.
Copyright © 2016 by Aria Blue. All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be copied or reproduced in any matter whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Printed in the United States of America.
Cover design by: Vamos Write
Books in the Principal of Pleasure Series
#1: The Principal of Pleasure
#2: Dean’s Delight
#3: History and Hedonism
Dean’s Delight
Book Two of the Principal of Pleasure
Dean’s Delight:
The Principal of Pleasure Book Two
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 1
Sundays had always been Presley McGuire’s favorite day of the week when he spent them with Sara Snow. At moment, she lay in bed beside him, face down the way she always slept. He leaned over, pulling up her tank top, and leaving sweet, soft kisses down her spine.
Sara shivered underneath his lips. “Pres, what time is it?”
“A little after nine. I was about to order breakfast.”
That was part of their Sunday tradition. Sara called it Pajama Day. On Saturdays they’d spend the day doing exciting things like rock climbing or horseback riding, but Sunday was their day to recuperate before the start of the humdrum work week.
They’d stay in bed for half the day. Order in breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Watch movies or get caught up with their shows on Netflix. Sara would read while Presley watched Penny Dreadful because that show scared the shit out of her.
Sara rolled over, grinning. Her short white-blonde hair was a mess and Presley couldn’t help but run his fingers through it. He missed her long hair though. She had chopped it all off because of him and their nasty break up, but now they were working on getting back together.
Sara had made it very clear that there would be no sex involved until they were officially a couple and had worked out their issues. Presley would deal with that if he had to, but sleeping beside her had been torture.
When breakfast arrived, they settled themselves at the iron-wrought table on Presley’s balcony. Like Sara, Presley thought the day was perfect. The sky was crisp, blue and cloudless. Fragrances of fall danced in the air. The sounds of the wind and chirping birds calmed Presley, giving him a sense of peace. It had been a long time since he’d felt that way.
Presley watched Sara spread strawberry cream cheese on her bagel and then suck off what had gotten on her fingers. “We should do this every weekend,” he suggested.
She took a bite of her bagel, nodding. “We should. I miss this. Sundays used to be my favorite day of the week.”
Presley was elated to hear that. “Okay. Let’s make it a date now. We’ll spend next weekend together.”
Sara’s face fell. “Oh, Pres, I didn’t mean next weekend. I have plans.”
He shrugged. “So? Cancel them. What are you doing anyway? Going on some museum tour with your parents?”
She suddenly became very focused on her half-eaten bagel. “No. I have plans, Pres. With someone else.”
Presley’s face warmed with jealousy. “Someone else? You mean another man?”
“Yes.”
He stood up, bumping the table and almost knocking over the pitcher of orange juice. “What the hell, Sara?”
“Presley, calm down. I made it clear that we weren’t exclusive yet. We’re taking things slow, remember? Testing the waters.”
Presley plopped down in his seat. He remembered that conversation but to him taking things slow didn’t involve other people. He had no desire to date anyone else. Why did she?
“Presley,” Sara continued, “I don’t have to tell you this, but I will if it will set your mind at ease. We’re going canoeing and that’s it. It’s something we’ve had planned for a few weeks.”
That didn’t make Presley feel and better. “We’ve been testing the waters for a month, Sara. How long is this going to take because I’m ready. I’ve been ready.” Presley hated to sound as if he were begging. He had no problem getting any woman he wanted, so why did he have to beg? Sara had a way of making him do things he never thought he would.
Sara moved to the chair beside him, taking his hands in hers. “Pres, let’s not ruin this day. I want it to be perfect like it used to be. We already have three movies picked out while we snuggle up on the couch. This day is for you and me.”
She looked so beautiful it was hard for Presley to be depressed. He used his thumb to wipe a crumb from the side of her mouth. A little bit of Sara was better than no Sara at all so he would try not to think about the asshole who would have the privilege of spending the next weekend with her.
On the couch they settled in to watch The Wolf of Wall Street in their usual position. Presley lay flat on his back while Sara lay on top of him with her head in the crook of his shoulder. It felt just like old times. Perfect.
About a half hour in, Sara stared up at him with her piercing blue eyes. She looked just like a pixie. Presley pressed his lips against hers and they shared passionate intense kisses. He stuck his hand underneath her tank top, running his fingers gently up and down her back. Presley loved the moment as warm sensations shot through his body, but it would kill him to share Sara with anyone else. She had to make a decision and she had to make it soon.
Chapter 2
Monday afternoon Harrison and Presley were perched on stools in the art room watching Ava do yoga to a YouTube video projected off a screen at the front of her classroom.
Presley was kind of annoyed that he wasn’t getting her undivided attention. She gave him better advice than anyone. It was level-headed and unbiased. Harrison on the other hand . . .
“Dude, Sara is way out of line. You’re letting her play you,” He told Presley. “She’s made you feel guilty about being with other women so you’re sitting at home alone thinking about her while she’s out living it up with some random guy. What the fuck? Presley, you’re better than this, man.”
Presley agreed with him to some extent. He felt like he was ready to give Sara his all, but she wasn’t returning the favor. The thought of her with someone else made him sick to his stomach.
Presley cleared his throat. “Yoga Queen, can I have your two cents?”
Harrison sighed because Ava’s advice was always the opposite of his—good advice. Ava stopped stretching and sat cross-legged on her mat. Her thick red curls were pulled up into a ponytail. When she wore her hair like that she almost looked like a twelve-year-old because of her tiny frame.
“Pres, I know this sucks for you,” she began. “It’ll all work out in the end. You have to understand that Sara has been hurt in the past—”
“But I didn’t—” Presley began.
“I know you didn’t cheat like she thinks you did, but in her mind, you did so she nee
ds to be sure before she puts her heart out there again. Pres, if you love her, it’s worth the wait. You two are like Romeo and Juliet, destined to be together. You definitely shouldn’t be worried about this guy she’s going out with. She’ll come back to you when she’s ready. What’s meant to be will always find it’s way.”
Ava said that phrase all the time. Presley wasn’t sure if he believed it.
Harrison scoffed, taking some of Ava’s hand lotion from her desk and rubbing it into his mahogany skin. “Man, you’re letting this woman wear your balls like a pair of earrings. First, she thinks you cheated on her simply because one of her friends said so. You guys had been together for years and she wouldn’t even give you the benefit of the doubt. She broke your heart. None of that was your fault. Then she teases you by saying she wants to get back together, but only a little bit? Now she’s going to be spending time with some other dude while you’re sitting around depressed about it. What do I keep telling you? This love stuff isn’t worth it. You need to move on.”
Ava glared at Harrison. “Ignore that, Presley. People are lucky to find someone they love and want to spend the rest of their lives with and when you find that person, you don’t let go easily. You fight for it. Harrison is going to die old and alone with a multitude of STDs. Don’t listen to him.”
“Hey!” Harrison frowned, looking gravely offended.
Presley had heard enough. They were both right but Presley wasn’t about to be Sara’s prisoner. If she wanted to see other people, so would he.
Chapter 3
Marcia Fox, the American History teacher, clasped Presley’s hand, dragging him through the deserted hallways of McGuire Prep. McGuire Preparatory was the most expensive and exclusive private school on the west coast. Politicians, sports figures, doctors, and lawyers all sent their children there.
The hallways were paneled with mahogany wood and the tiled floors were always waxed to shiny perfection. Presley’s leather loafers slid as Marcia pulled him along. Presley McGuire wasn’t your typical principal. He was a stone-cold heart throb who the teachers and mothers had fallen head-over-heels for. The school had been founded by his great-grandfather, hence the reason Presley was principal and his father was the dean.
“Where are we going?” he asked Marcia for the fifth time. “Why are you being so secretive?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “I found a new place. I’m tired of doing it in my classroom all the time.”
There were only two places in the school where Presley’d had sexual encounters—the backstage of the auditorium and Marcia’s classroom.
She paused at the doors of the cafeteria. By now the cafeteria ladies would be gone. The janitors clean up right after lunch, so the place should have been empty. She pushed through the double doors. “There’s just something about doing it where you can get caught.”
Presley agreed except for when the place was in a school where they worked. They could both lose their jobs or worse. Marcia wanted to hear none of it as she playfully shoved Presley through the double doors. Presley smacked her ass. She chased him around the lunch tables. After a moment, they ended up in the kitchen.
Presley was ready to go. He and Marcia never wasted much time on foreplay. He grabbed her waist and hoisted her up on the stainless steel counter. Marcia was perfect in his eyes. She had tan skin that made her green eyes flash brighter and jet black hair what fell down her back. She was a curvy woman with tits and ass that he couldn’t keep his eyes off.
Immediately he attacked her sexy, pouty lips with his own. She was a good kisser. As they kissed, his hands traveled up her firm thighs, pushing up her skirt. She never wore pants—easy access for him.
Marcia’s stroked Presley’s cock through his pants. “Hmmm, feels like somebody’s happy to see me, Principal McGuire.” She unbuckled his belt, pulled his zipper down and shoved her hand down his boxer briefs. Marcia stroked his cock back and forth and their tongues intertwined.
Presley shoved his hands between her legs sliding two fingers into her lace panties. He rubbed her throbbing clit, and she thrust her thighs back and forth moving in rhythm with him.
After a minute, they were ripping at each other’s shirts and bottoms until they were both standing completely naked. Presley threw her down on the counter ready to take her until Marcia stopped him. “No. Get something from the fridge. Something yummy.”
There were several industrial sized refrigerators in the school’s kitchen. Presley searched through a few of them before he found a canister of whipped cream the cafeteria workers used for the chocolate pudding.
Marcia grinned when he brought it over. “That’s perfect.” She adjusted herself so that her entire body was laying flat on the counter. Presley squeezed whipped cream on each of her nipples, then he crouched over her to suck it off. Once the cream was gone, he sucked on her hard nipples, pinching and pulling with his teeth just a bit.
Marcia ground her hips in pleasure as she rubbed her clit with her index finger. He then took the whipped cream and squeezed a tiny clump on the opening of her vagina. He licked it off, his tongue grazing and flicking her clit, Marcia moaned louder and louder. Thank God they were in a deserted part of the school.
Next, Marcia found a bottle of chocolate syrup. Presley took her place on the counter as she completely covered his cock and balls with the syrup. Then with that sexy mouth of her, she proceeded to suck off every drop, taking his cock as far down her throat as it could go. Presley grunted as she licked his balls, stroking his hard cock with his hand.
He couldn’t take it anymore he had to be inside her. Her took her, bent her over and then spread her plump ass cheeks apart. He slid his dick in between them and she quivered. It had been a long time for them, almost two months.
The intensity spread throughout his body as he pumped in and out. Marcia clasped the counter trying to maintain control of herself. Presley fucked her, moving in and out, until finally he came. He shouted as stars exploded before his eyes. He collapsed on top of Marcia as they both struggled to catch their breaths, panting loudly. He moved her hair to the side, kissing the back of her neck. Presley licked the tattoo of a strawberry she had on her nape that was always hidden by her hair.
After a moment of recuperation, the two separated and reached for their clothes. A loud clanging sound coming from the corner drew their attention.
Ms. Jones stood in the doorway wide-eyed. “What in the actual fuck?” she demanded.
Presley and Marcia looked at each other. They both stood completely naked. The chocolate syrup and whipped cream were still on the counter. There was no possible way Presley could talk his way out of this. There was nothing to do but beg.
“Ms. Jones,” he began, “please, I know this looks terrible, and it’s completely inappropriate, but can we pretend like this never happened? Please.”
Marcia was already hastily dressing behind a tall stack of trays.
Ms. Jones smirked, giving Presley a good once-over—taking extra long as her eyes took in his cock. “So this is what all the fuss is about? I don’t get it.”
Presley blushed and grabbed his pants sliding them on. Jones’ smirk turned to a look of disgust. “Have you two lost your minds? You must have. I’m not even going to explain how wrong it is for you to be engaging in sexual intercourse with a teacher, but to be doing it in the kitchen! On the counter where food is prepared for our students. I’m sure the cafeteria staff had sterilized it thoroughly before leaving never imagining that you two would be getting your sweat and nasty bodily fluids all over it!”
By that time Marcia had finished dressing. She emerged from her hiding spot wringing her hands together. “Please, Ms. Jones, nothing like this will ever happen again.”
Ms. Jones glared at her. “Please excuse us, Ms. Fox, I will deal with you later.”
Marcia glanced at Presley who nodded, “It’ll be okay,” although he didn’t know that at all. Their careers and reputations were in the hands of Ms. Jones and he couldn’t
think of anything worse than that.
Marcia ducked her head, avoiding the stares from Ms. Jones, and left the kitchen. Jones folded her arms across her chest and moved closer to Presley. “Let me explain to you what’s going to happen now and you can forget trying to talk me out of any of this. You should know by now that your charm doesn’t work on me. I’m going to tell your father and then both you and Marcia will be fired. I don’t know what you’ll do after this and I don’t care, but poor Ms. Fox. What will she do? She’s not a rich kid with a trust fund. What school is going to hire her after this? It’s a shame really because she’s such a good teacher. Uh, uh, uh. Your inability to keep that thing in your pants has ruined that woman’s life in a matter of minutes. I hope you’re pleased with yourself.”
Presley was more worried than Marcia than himself. He cared about her and didn’t want her career to be over. “There has to be something—some kind of arrangement we can come to, Ms. Jones. Please.”
She thought for a moment. “There is only one thing that would make me keep this secret.”
Presley swallowed hard. “Yeah, what’s that?”
“Your job. You have until the end of the week to tell your father that you’re resigning as principal. Make up some excuse. Say it’s too hard for you or you’re incompetent or something—we both know that’s true. Tell him he should make me principal and then you can step down and be VP. I do all the work around here, anyway. It’s only fair that I get the title and the pay for all I do.”
Presley slumped against the counter taking in her words. He might not have been the best or most conventional principal, but he loved his job and he loved McGuire Prep. He didn’t want to step down, and he definitely didn’t want to work under Ms. Jones. He could only imagine how little time it would take her to drain the fun and life from the school. McGuire Prep wasn’t just a school—it was his family’s legacy. “Why don’t I just quit? That would be better for you since you hate me so much.”
