Schooled 4.0

by Deena Bright

  “Don’t hold back Janelle,” he commands as he finds my clit again, massaging it faster with abandon. I moan. Briggs’ breathy voice sounds in my ear. “Come on baby, I have to fuck you.”

  I can’t take it any longer. I brace myself against him, rotating and pushing my hips harder against his hands, as I cry out with a fast, intense orgasm. He holds me as I catch my breath and regain my balance and composure. Kissing my neck, and sucking flesh into his mouth, he says, “You’re amazing.”

  I lie limply against him, and pant a satisfied, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  “I’m not even close to being done with you yet,” he adds. He turns me around, and kisses me passionately. With his mouth on mine, he lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. Our mouths explore each other’s lips, tongues, necks, and chests.

  Briggs lowers me down on the kitchen counter and stands back, admiring me, taking me in as I sit awaiting his next move. “Raise your arms,” he demands. I eagerly and readily comply. With one swift motion, my shirt’s off and his hands are on my breasts. Smiling, he compliments, “Nice bra.”

  Online last week, I searched all over the internet until I found a teacher-related bra and panty set. And teacher-related it was. It’s white with red apples all over it, inside the apples are yellow A+ signs. Perfect for this little lesson.

  “I’m glad you like it. I may have had you in mind when I bought it.” I lick my lips and stare into his crystal blue eyes as I unhook the small red apple clasp, opening my bra, exposing my breasts to him.

  “Like it a lot,” he replies as he kneads the flesh of my breasts. Taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking it lightly, I heave my chest toward him, offering him more of myself. I hold his head against my chest, enjoying the sensation of his mouth on me. He moves to the other breast, still rolling the bud of my other nipple between his large fingers.

  Putting my hands on the bottom hem of his shirt, I remove it. I can stare at his body’s perfection for days. I kiss his chest, running my nails along his stomach and abs. Kissing my path back up to his mouth, I find his lips and our tongues meet again. The feel of his hard body and powerful chest against my breasts and hard nipples begins to send me over the edge. “Oh Briggs, I want you.” There’s no turning back now.

  “Lie back,” he commands. I acquiesce. Briggs unbuttons my jeans with one hand, as the other continues to explore my nipples and breasts. Moving slowly, he unzips my jeans, staring into my eyes. Just watching him, knowing what is to come, takes my breath away. Just the anticipation alone dampens me even more. Briggs takes my pants down. I lift my hips to move the process along. “So eager, I like that,” he says, his eyes smoldering with desire.

  I feel his fingers hook on the waistband of my underwear. I hold my breath, lifting my hips again as he strips me completely on my kitchen counter. Exposed, vulnerable, and totally immersed in desire, I lie back on the counter waiting for Briggs to take me. He spreads my legs further apart, opening them.

  “Your pants? Aren’t you taking them off?” I question.

  Smiling, he explains, “Not yet, I promised you three orgasms, two more to go, baby.”

  Kissing my thighs and tenderly biting the flesh of my legs, I feel the heat intensify between my legs. He uses his fingers to open me further, rubbing the hardening nub of my clit with his thumb, before lightly flicking it with his tongue.

  “Briggs… I can’t… I don’t know. I’m ready now.” I whine in protest. I want him inside of me, deep inside of me. I need him.

  He blows on the very center of my desire and then licks it again, before saying, “A promise is a promise and you’re not begging yet.” Putting his mouth on me again, his tongue moves faster and harder. His tongue circles and moves lower, finding the opening, penetrating the opening. His tongue dips further in at the same time as his finger strokes my clit again. He simultaneously rubs my button as his tongue moves in and out of me. It’s the most amazing sensation of pleasure, forbidden pleasure, pleasure I cannot deny myself.

  “Don’t stop… Briggs… Oh God.” I hold him against me securely in place, running my nails over his head and neck. He switches his hands, his tongue back on my clit, while two of his fingers delve deeper inside of me.”

  Yes, that’s it.” I urge. I raise my hips off the counter; he removes his fingers from inside of me. Using both of his hands, he lifts me up, pulling me closer to his mouth, his hands holding my butt and hips. My legs dangle easily and smoothly over his shoulders. This is everything. It’s hot, so hot. Marcus has never…

  “Briiiiiiiiiggs,” I cry as my body quakes and spasms. My body shakes from the inside out. I wrap my legs around his head, holding him in place until I lie motionless and limp, while he holds me up. Lowering me back on the counter and crawling up on top of it, he kisses my body as he makes his way back up to me. He kisses me deeply. I taste myself on him again, so intimate and so sensual.

  Panting, I hold his head in my hands, staring at his face, “That’s two.” I kiss him again. “No more.”

  “Yes more… lots more,” he argues, kissing my neck and collarbone. He grinds against me, still wearing his jeans. He’s hard, so big, the material of his jeans, the seam of his pants are rubbing against me. I can’t bear it. I’m sore and sensitive, too tired to go again.

  “No… no… no… no. Wait… wait… wait,” I plead. “It’s too… ahhh… sensitive… stop.” The sensitivity of more stimulation is unbearable. I can’t let him touch me there again. He lifts off of me, and moves to my side, trailing his fingers from my neck to my navel. Briggs nuzzles my neck and ear.

  “Relax, you just have to let me tread lightly; we can get you back there. I read about it,” he smirks proudly.

  I laugh, shaking my head at him. “You read about it? Really? When did you become so studious?” I joke, kissing his neck.

  “When the extra credit became so rewarding,” he jokes, as his fingers reach between my legs again.

  “Briggs… it’s too…” I warn as his fingers slowly and lightly diddle my clit again. “Too… too… oh wow… gooood.” I purr when he gently brushes over my center again. There’s no way I can have three orgasms like this, never before have I even had two in a row. Just then Sarah words ring in my ear. You can go all night and into the next day.

  Briggs touches me, caresses me, then he looks directly at me and says, “You need to come again baby. You have to know how bad I want you… have to be inside you.” He kisses me deeply, while his fingers are buried inside of me.

  “I just don’t know. I don’t think I can.” I whine, breathing hard, while moving my hips, gyrating them to his touch.

  “Yes you can. You want me, don’t you?” he questions. I nod, staring at him. “Do you? Tell me; tell me you want me. Tell me you want to fuck me.” he goads me.

  “Yes Briggs, I want you,” I can hardly talk. My breathing’s so short. He moves his fingers faster, harder. “I do, yes Briggs, I want to fuck you.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, my entire body jerks, releasing the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever experienced. My toes curl, legs stiffen, and my nails dig into his arms as I try to get his hand out from between my legs.

  “Thank God,” he exclaims as he leaps off the counter. His jeans are off in two seconds flat. I sit up, watching him. I reach for his boxers, but not before he grabs his own waistband and pulls them down. His penis is straining, so hard, so big. I want him. I reach for him.

  “Nuh-uh, don’t touch. I’m afraid, I’ll… you know… I’ve never waited this long before,” he admits. I back up, putting my hands up.

  Suddenly feeling self-conscious, I say, “Briggs, do you have, ummm…” It’s always such an awkward question, but yet so necessary.

  “Oh shit, yeah, right here,” he says, bending to reach for his jeans. The muscles in his back ripple. I touch his back. He lets me rub his back, tickle his spine with my nail before standing back up. He throws a handful of condoms on the counter.

  Giggling, I say, “Big plans to
night?” He nods, smiling. Carefully, I open the condom for him, handing it to him. He slides it over his penis. What a shame to cover it up.

  Moving in closer, he lifts my chin to force me to look into his eyes; they’re burning with desire, with want. My breath catches. He growls and kisses me hungrily, devouring me. My arms wrap around his neck, my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me, urging him into me.

  He continues to kiss my neck and rub my back, massaging me with his strong, powerful hands. I want him inside. He’s still holding back. “Briggs.” I want him.

  He looks at me, stands back a bit, and shakes his head. “Not yet, you still haven’t said it,” he explains as he leans in and tongues my ear, breathing into my ear.

  At first, I don’t understand what he means. I look at him, confused and totally turned on. Then, realizing what he wants, what he means, I eagerly cave and say, “Please, there I said it!” Briggs sighs, relieved, and pounces on me, kissing my neck and chest.

  “Please, Briggs, I’m begging you!” I scream, surrendering. He chuckles, pulling me closer and lifting me up. With one swift motion, he’s deep inside of me. I wasn’t sure if I could handle him, take him the whole way in, but I’m so wet, so incredibly wet and turned on; he slides right in, tightly and snugly, but all the way in, further than any man has ever been. He doesn’t move; he waits until I adjust to his size, his girth, his body.

  Briggs moves. I follow his lead. He rocks his hips against me. I meet his every thrust. I want this. Wrapped around him, with him buried deep inside of me, nothing else matters. This is exactly where I want to be—what I want to be doing. I open my eyes slowly. The most beautiful blue eyes are staring back at me, staring at me with such awe and desire. I can’t take my eyes away from his. We stare at each other, moving rhythmically together. I have never had sex like this, so raw, so passionate, so real.

  Briggs thrusts faster and harder. I nod at him, encouraging him to move even faster. He does. He lifts me off the counter, holding me. He turns us around, putting my back against the fridge. He pumps and pushes harder. Then, with one breathy word, “Janelle,” he releases intensely, holding me and pumping into me. We stand together, wrapped around one another, while he settles down. Still holding me, not moving, still inside of me, he kisses me and says, “Do you think I could redo this assignment? I didn’t do so well.”

  I groan as he slowly slips out of me, and breathing hard, I say, “I don’t know. It was okay. You do need a little more practice.”

  Still holding me, he carries me to the couch and lies me down. He leans over, kisses me, and says that he’ll be right back. As he walks back toward the bathroom, I watch how confidently and cockily he walks. Even naked, he’s so self-assured. With that body though, who wouldn’t be? Briggs looks good enough to eat, from the front, from the back, from every damn angle I have ever seen him in. Delicious. Man, I’m hungry. He wore me out.

  Lying there, I wait, wait for the guilt to flood over me. I wait. Nothing happens, I feel, well, happy. Satisfied, extremely satisfied. And tired. I grab the blanket from the top of the couch and snuggle up. Smiling happily, I doze off, and next thing I know, he’s lifting me, still covered in the blanket, off the couch. He takes me back to the bedroom, lies me on the bed, and tells me to hold on a second.

  Still naked, he leaves my room, rushing back into the living room. I get up, go into the restroom to freshen up, and when I return, he has a whole spread of food on the bed waiting for me. He got the cheese tray, crackers, a bottle of wine, one glass, and a can of beer. “Hungry?” he asks.

  “You read my mind,” I say, climbing into the bed, sliding in next to him. We sit propped up against the headboard, drinking and eating cheese and crackers. We sit silently for a while, when he says, “There’s this new Mexican restaurant in Cleveland, want to go Friday night? It’s just outside of town. No one will see us.” He feeds a cheese cube to me. “They say the margaritas are strong. I want to get you crazy drunk and take advantage of you.”

  Uhhh… what? I can’t go on dates with him—in public. I haven’t even filed for my disillusionment yet. I’m not about to start dating, a former student, especially. Sleep with him, get high levels of satisfaction from him? Absolutely. But a date? I don’t think so.

  Stalling, I take a sip of wine, and finally reply, “It’s not taking advantage of someone if she’s a willing participant.” I smile, nudging against him. “Let’s skip the drive to Cleveland, skip the dinner, and stay here, get drunk on our own, and see where crazy drunkenness takes us.”

  Studying me, he says, “So you don’t want me to take you out? You just want to stay here?”

  “Why go anywhere, when everything we want is right here?” I joke while I reach under the blanket and stroke his penis.

  “Janelle, why don’t you want to go out with me?” He looks serious, hurt even, which is not my intention at all.

  “It’s not that. I’m not…” I stammer. I don’t know what to say. “I’m still married, haven’t filed for my disillusionment. I really shouldn’t be dating right now.”

  Briggs doesn’t say anything for a while. “Alright, I get that. Makes sense. So, I’m just going to be your little boy-toy secret then?” he says, smiling, pretty proud of himself.

  “Think you can handle that?” I ask innocently. He responds by rolling over on me and kissing me deeply.

  Breaking the kiss and looking at me with a serious gaze, “At this point, I would take whatever you’re giving.” He kisses me again at the same time his phone’s alarm goes off. “Shit… yeah… hey… can I turn on the TV, you have cable, right?” he asks, while searching for my remote.

  I hand him the remote, “Sure, but… uhhh… what’s up?”

  “ESPN is running a story on me. I taped it, but I kind of want to see it too. That’s okay, right?” He looks at me hopefully. It’s cute, like I need to give him permission to watch an ESPN special about himself.

  “Of course Briggs, I want to watch too,” I say, taking the remote from him and turning the television to ESPN. “It’s not every day that a girl gets to go to bed with a sports star,” I respond. Then realizing my absurdity, I say, “Well yeah, girls go to bed with celebrity athletes all the time. I’m a dime a dozen.”

  Hitting pause on the remote, he takes my head in his hands, kisses my forehead, and counters, “No way are you a dime a dozen, Janelle Garrity; you are one of a kind.” He kisses me deeply, taking my breath away. Damn.

  After I quickly clean up the food and get back in bed, Briggs unpauses the show. It’s strange watching the same man who’s in my bed, stroking my hair and back, being interviewed on TV right in front of me. The interview and story are fantastic; his story is tragic. But, he’s a warrior, fighting his way back to stardom without needing to get knocked around by 300-pound football players to do it. I’m so proud of him, awed by him. And to think, he was my student… is my lover. Pride floods me as I drift off to sleep, with Briggs Alexander, ESPN golden-boy stroking my hair and rubbing my back.

  THE NEXT MORNING, we’re awakened by Briggs’ phone going off. “Doesn’t the battery on that thing ever die?” I ask as I get up to go to the bathroom.

  “I charged it right before I came here last night,” he explains, picking up his phone. “What up?” he says to the caller. “Awww fuck, that’s right; they’re in my car.” He holds the phone and yells through the door, “Janelle, what’s the address here?”

  Sticking my head out the door, “Ummm, why?” I ask.

  “Vince, remember my buddy Vince? He needs to get his golf clubs out of the back of my car.” He looks at me strangely, explaining the situation.

  Shit. I had Vince in study hall, not as an official student, but I was not a fan of him back then. I don’t want him to know about us, about what we’ve been doing. If they’re friends though, then he probably already knows.

  Reluctantly, I give him the address and jump in to take a quick shower. I’m just rinsing the conditioner out of my hair when I hear
the door open. Smiling, I say, “What took you so long?”

  “Just giving you some time before I came in here and had my way with you,” he confesses. His mouth is minty fresh.

  “Did you use my toothbrush?” I question. I would freak the shit out if he did. There are just some things that I do not share.

  Lathering up his hands, he says, “You think I didn’t pay attention in school, ever, don’t you?” He begins rubbing his soapy hands all over my chest, massaging the bubbles into my breasts as water rinses them immediately off. “I’d never use your toothbrush. You take your own sheets and towels to hotels. You’d kill me if used your toothbrush. I used my finger,” he says, before kissing me deeply.

  For some reason, the fact that he even remembered I’m a “germ-a-phobe” turns me on and makes me want him even more. I lather up my own hands, and with sudsy palms, I begin stroking him. His penis is rock hard. I pump him faster, cupping his testicles with my other hand, massaging the flesh. He groans, squeezes my nipples slightly, and puts his face back into the stream of water beating down on us. He looks incredible: turned on, hard, and wet. I stroke faster, and he grabs my hand, pulling it away from him.

  “Not yet,” he says as he turns me toward the water, the water beating down on my breasts and face. He kisses my neck, my shoulders, and raises my arms up around his neck. He slides his penis down my ass crack, between my legs. He isn’t inside of me, but his length is long enough to rub my clit. I spread my legs for easier stimulation. This whole position is new to me; his penis strokes against me over and over again. I lean a bit forward, bracing myself against the wall, the sensation is electrifying.

  “Put your legs a little closer together,” he orders. As I do, he moans and pumps between my legs faster.

  “Briggs, my God, this is so good,” I swoon, pushing back and forth with him. He pulls my leg up, exposing me, and opening me even more. His penis rubs harder and hotter onto my clit as the water beats down on us. “Briggs, I’m going to—”