Schooled 4.0

by Deena Bright

  “Leo! What time did you go to bed? Don’t you have to work today?” I asked, wrapping my arms around him, nestling my head into his chest. He smelled de-fucking-licious. I wanted to lick him from the “nave to the chops.” Really? Again, I’m quoting Shakespeare? What. The. Fuck? I guess my students brought out the teacher in me.

  “I do. Didn’t sleep. Had a lot on my mind. I’m going to go in to the office here in a bit, though,” Leo replied, kissing my forehead and holding me tighter. “I’m going to get my work done quickly today and crash early tonight. I’ve got a big date with a gorgeous, intelligent woman tomorrow.”

  “Mmm… and I can’t wait,” I said, breathing in his scent again, knowing that Briggs wouldn’t let us stay wrapped around each other too much longer.

  Almost on cue, but missing the mark that I figured he’d hit, Briggs said, “Mmm… did you make these?”

  I’d forgotten all about the waffles. Apparently, Briggs liked them. He already had one in his mouth as he buttered another one on his plate. It was rather cute watching him butter a waffle one-handed, while his hand was bandaged up, knowing that the injury was from chivalry.

  “Oh yeah, Leo, stay and eat before work, okay?” I didn’t have to ask him twice. He was right next to Briggs putting powdered sugar and syrup on his waffle, while also eating a cold one. There’s just something extremely sexy and animalistic about a hungry man, which in turn made me hungry for something completely different, but very animalistic.

  “Janelle, how do you like your pancakes?” Leo inquired, putting a whole waffle on the plate for me.

  “I got this,” Briggs said, taking the plate from Leo.

  “The Hell you do. Just keep eating barbarian,” Leo argued, tugging the plate back from him.

  Briggs used enough force, winning the tugging match with the plate, but the waffle flew off and onto the floor. “Nice job asshole,” Briggs said to Leo. Getting a new waffle, he said, “She likes warm syrup and powdered sugar, no butter, right Babe?”

  “That’s right,” I said, shocked that he remembered what I said about waffles versus pancakes that night we went to I-hop. Waffles are spectacular with powdered sugar and syrup; pancakes must have whipped cream and syrup. Otherwise, they’re not even worth it.

  “Oh… and boys, make sure you clean up the kitchen when you’re done,” I said, walking to the island to get my breakfast. “I’m going to eat my waffle and read over this contract that you two made up.”

  Briggs and Leo sat together pretty amicably, scarfing down their breakfast and reading the newspaper. Not surprisingly, they didn’t argue over the newspaper. Leo read the front page and business section. Briggs was glued to the sports page. Would it be so wrong if we just all three lived here like this? Why couldn’t we figure out a way for both of them to be with me forever? I certainly couldn’t see myself giving up either one of them. Briggs lit up a room. Everything was more enjoyable and light when he was around. He was fun, but warm and protective. His chiseled, sculpted beauty could keep me hanging on for eternity. I loved watching how his muscles strained to break free from his tight-fitting t-shirts. It was a battle that everyone won. His bedroom antics were paramount now that I’d tutored the Hell out of him. A couple of times.

  However, Leo was warm and secure too—with an equally perfected build. His muscles were defined and hard, protective, a place to call home. Leo was reserved in nature, but the bedroom opened him up to adventures that I’d only ever read about in the books that I’d kept in my nightstand for those nights that Marcus couldn’t (or wouldn’t) perform. I wouldn’t have survived my marriage for as long as I did without the fictitious Sinners, or Gideon and Kellan to keep me going at night. There was just something about Leo that screamed, “sanctuary.” Leo was a safe haven from the ills of life, the woes of everything wrong with the world. When I was with Leo, nothing seemed out of whack or problematic.

  I took a bite of my waffle, dripping syrup down my chin. I quickly looked over toward Leo and Briggs. They were both engrossed in their newspaper sections, completely oblivious to me and my Mrs. Butterworth-covered face, or to the fact that they were co-existing quite cohesively. Smiling, I wiped my chin, wishing I could persuade them both that one month to choose the rest of my life wouldn’t be enough, couldn’t be enough. I needed to find a way to get to Labor Day with the two men who would be “working” me all summer long if I could help it.

  Glancing down, I laughed at the title of the contract, knowing that Briggs wouldn’t have come up with the title. Intelligence and wit were sexy. Leo was sexy. Of course, Briggs was the one staying today to entertain me, but Leo was the one on my mind. Women were ridiculous. We always want what we can’t have. I’m surprised Eve took as long as she did to get her hands and mouth on that red juicy apple. Knowing that I was forbidden to feast on its deliciousness would have had me salivating for it from the very second I saw that tree.

  Refocusing, I started to read the contract, noticing the post-it notes throughout the document. Leo was remarkable. He’d posted little notes of his thoughts throughout the entire contract. He was so damn adorable. The things I wanted to do to him right now…

  THE CONTRACT

  (I wouldn’t agree to this for just anyone.)

  It Could Be the Best of Times

  Or the Worst of Times

  (The choice is yours.)

  Contract written for:

  Janelle Lynn Garrity (I’m hereby officially dropping the “Flowers.”)

  Date:

  The month of July (I’d do it forever if I had to.)

  Participants:

  Leon Briar Cling (Briar was my mom’s maiden name.)

  Briggs Alexander (I don’t care to know his middle name.)

  Reason for contract:

  Beauty cannot choose between the two beasts.

  Rules agreed upon by Beast #1 and Beast #2 (reluctantly and angrily)

  1. Ms. Garrity may only see each participant two times a week.

  —no surprise visits will be allowed by either participant. (Sucks for Briggs that he forgot that I do your brother’s landscaping.)

  —Ms. Garrity can request an additional day with a participant if she deems it necessary. (I just want to spend all summer with you in my arms.)

  —Ms. Garrity may only be “seduced” by participants on one day of the week. (The number of times on that day was never negotiated. I could go all day, 10 times a day if you want me to.)

  —Ms. Garrity is rightfully permitted to reject a participant from any and all sexual activity.(You can tell Briggs, “No,” the entire month if you want.)

  —Ms. Garrity is permitted to seduce the participants if she is unsatisfied with the amount of activity that is transpiring.

  2. A “date” with Ms. Garrity cannot exceed a 15-hour time span.

  3. All public “dates” and “outings” must take place outside a 60-mile radius from Ms. Garrity’s school district as not to further tarnish or besmirch her reputation.

  —Dates can take place in Ms. Garrity’s pool house.

  —Dates can take place in Briggs’ apartment. (His apartment is a college boy’s dream pad. He’s so juvenile.)

  —Dates can take place at Leo’s house.

  4. Both participants have agreed to share Ms. Garrity on the Fourth of July. Ms. Garrity will spend the afternoon of the Fourth with Leo and the evening of the Fourth with Briggs.

  5. Ms. Garrity may void the contract at any time throughout the month if she deems it necessary. (And kick Briggs to the curb and run away with me.)

  6. Ms. Garrity has the final say of the contact. She may add, omit, or edit any aspect of the contract.

  ________________

  Janelle Lynn Garrity

  ________________

  Briggs Alexander

  ________________

  Leo Cling

  The contract was so Leo, formal and professional, sprinkled with humor and wit. Damn, I could use a little Leo-loving about now. I read through the rest of
the dates and times that I was “scheduled” to be with each of them and could feel myself start to heat up. This was really going to happen, and I couldn’t be happier or more than willing to participate.

  I noticed their signatures at the bottom. “Alright, you two, do you both really agree to these terms?” I asked, before signing my name. As I dotted the i on “Garrity,” I felt arms surround my waist. I knew immediately that it was Briggs. I could tell his scent anywhere.

  “But wait, what do we do with this contact now?” I asked.

  “Who cares? Give it to him; he’ll do some shit with it,” Briggs said. Nuzzling, my neck and with a throaty groan, he said, “Cling, don’t let the door hit you in the ass. Your job here is done.”

  Leo walked to the front of me. It was strangely exciting to have Briggs nibbling my ear while I stared directly into Leo’s eyes. When in the world did I become so sexually insatiable?

  Grimacing, Leo said, “I’d at least like to say goodbye to you… privately.” Leo reached for my hand, but Briggs batted it out of the way.

  “Contract. Talk to her all you want tomorrow. She’s off limits today,” Briggs said, pissing me off and making me feel like his merchandise.

  “Whoa… whoa… hold on a damn second,” I said, pulling free from Briggs’ embrace. “I can speak for myself Briggs Alexander! Don’t even begin to think about me as your ‘property.’ I’m not someone or something you can control… or worse yet, own,” I said, as my temperature began to rise. “Leo is a guest in this house, my house, and I will say goodbye to my guest.”

  Briggs dropped his head, nodding his assent. “You’re right. My bad,” he apologized, averting his eyes from mine.

  “Now, go clean up the kitchen while I walk Leo out,” I commanded spitefully, loving when the bitch inside of me reared her ugly head.

  “I’ll help him… I ate too,” Leo said, looking pitifully remorseful.

  “No… you’ve been here long enough,” I argued. “Come on… I’ll walk you out. He can do it all by himself.”

  Saying “goodbye” to Leo was a little painful, not because I wanted him to stay and Briggs to leave. I was quite happy with the day’s arrangement. I just hated seeing the look on Leo’s face when he got into his car. He looked at the pool house like it was a demon that was going to ruin his life. Leaning in, I kissed him goodbye, and I told him that I was looking forward to seeing him the next day. Leo just dropped his head and nodded.

  “Leo, you’re okay with this, right?” I asked, wondering if he was lying to me, or worse, lying to himself.

  Shrugging and still looking at the pool house, he said, “If I were starving and there was only one piece of bread, I would rather eat half of it, than not get any of it.”

  Leo never looked back at me as he started his car and drove off. I watched as his car sped down the road, and I wondered if even I could handle this. I’d never attempted anything this risqué or scandalous in my life. I knew many people who “dated around” and even “slept around,” but did I have the chutzpah and heart to juggle two men, two completely wonderful and perfect men, at once?

  Walking in to the pool house, I started thinking about Marcus and Lauren. I hated that he fucked her and fucked me for so long (as well as so many other skanky whores). But if I was being honest with myself, the hardest person to be honest with, wasn’t I just as wrong for stringing both of these guys along? Granted Briggs and Leo both claimed to be on board and completely “okay” with this arrangement, but were any of us really “okay” with this plan? I wanted to be carefree and nonchalant about this situation. I wanted to just enjoy my summer and my men. I had the perfect setup, but something in my gut was screaming that nothing is ever perfect, but is flawed and tarnished if you look closely enough.

  I opened the door to the pool house, and the kitchen was immaculate. Briggs was leaning over the kitchen table, Clorox-wiping the syrup from where I sat and ate my waffles. His muscles flexed as he stretched further over the table, and his ass tightened as he did so. I looked closely and nothing, not a god damn thing, looked flawed or tarnished. I felt things twitch. Man, I loved when things twitched. It truly meant that my femininity was dying to be touched, titillated, tongued, and fondled. And Holy Godiva, it was.

  Unlike most people, I could vividly, without a shadow of a doubt, remember when I felt that first tingle, that first twitch. Jocelyn was in college, and I was younger, a sophomore in high school. My sister had her boyfriend over one night to watch television. My parents were out of town for my dad’s high school reunion. I’d heard moaning coming from the living room. (Before you get all grossed out, I didn’t walk in on Jocelyn having sex, watch her do it, and like it. Oh for God’s sake, get your head out of the incestuous gutter.)

  Anyway, I crept into the living room and saw Jocelyn and her boyfriend watching porn. To be 100% honest, it was Cinemax, just a little soft porn for the gentle-hearted porn addict. To this day, it still cracks me up. I tease her about it all the time. Joz and her boyfriend were truly just watching the skin flick. Jocelyn was sitting on the loveseat. Deck was sitting in the recliner with a blanket over his lap. She was laughing and making comments, obviously not getting into the action at all. At the time, I didn’t realize that Deck was probably whacking himself into oblivion. Actually, it wasn’t until years later when Jocelyn and I recounted this story to Rick and Marcus one drunken night that Marc and Rick pointed out what now seemed so obvious. Deck yanked his tank while watching porn with his high school girlfriend sitting across the room from him.

  As I stood there watching snippets of the man on the television screen pleasuring a beautiful blonde woman with his mouth, for the first time ever in my life, I felt my female parts awaken. I do consider it my first lady boner. My stuff twitched, tingled a bit, and I knew then exactly what it meant to get excited and yes, I’ll say it, feel “horny.” I went back to my bedroom, replaying the scene over and over again in my head. Truthfully, the images wouldn’t stop. I allowed my hands to explore and caress parts of my body that they hadn’t ventured ever before. And wouldn’t you know it? I learned first hand (yes the pun was intended) what a bona fide, real deal, toe-curling orgasm was.

  Looking at Briggs, watching him bend over my table, flexing those muscles brought all sorts of images to my mind, clear, vivid, and extremely hot images. I was once again reminded of my little lady boner. I wanted this man. I was not about to deny myself such carnal and immediate euphoria. Why would I? Briggs was in my kitchen, ready, willing, and so incredibly hot. I cleared my throat, alerting him to my arrival.

  “I knew you were there. I can see your reflection in the refrigerator,” he said, continuing to scrub the table. Damn, that must be the cleanest that table has ever been. Laughing, he added, “You looked so captivated, I figured I wouldn’t stop.” He stood up slowly and turned around, smirking confidently. “Why Miss Garrity, do you like what you see?”

  Oh Hell, he had me, my mouth dried up, and I whet my lips, nodding my approval.

  “Didn’t you just eat Janelle? Why do you suddenly look so hungry?” he said, teasingly, walking toward me. “Is there something more you’re a little hungry for—”

  Briggs never finished his tempting and teasing little seduction. I leapt into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist, careful to not bump or hurt his hand. “Briggs shut the fuck up and fuck me like the dirty little whore that I am,” I berated, kissing him hungrily. As he started walking toward the couch, I pulled my lips from his, “No, not on the couch… on that very clean kitchen table,” I said, biting his ear and sucking his earlobe. Briggs was a fast-learner and didn’t need to be told twice. He laid me down on the table and tore my pajamas bottoms off of me.

  “Damn, I’m starving,” Briggs growled, shoving my legs apart, roughly, aggressively. With my legs on either side of the table, sprawled out before him, I felt wanton and provocative, testing the limits of my inhibitions. Briggs sat down on the chair, scooting the chair in closer to me. “Looks like I’m havin
g lunch early today.”

  Kissing his way up my thighs, he held my legs further apart, stretching my muscles and my limits. He ran the back of his finger up the material of my panties and stroked it back down. “They’re wet,” he said, “but not wet enough.”

  Briggs leaned his mouth in and his tongue darted out, licking the silk of my underwear. “Take them off,” I begged.

  “No, I’m going to tease the shit out of you and make you remember all month who gives it to you good,” he states, full of confidence and cockiness.

  “Nooo, please, I’m ready, you don’t have anything else to prove—”

  Briggs yanked my underwear, forcing it into the crack of my ass, causing me to whimper in pleasurable pain and desire. His mouth closed down on my mound, licking and kissing and nibbling me through my underwear, mixing my dampness with his saliva. I loved and hated the sensation. I wanted to feel his tongue on my flesh, wanted him to make me release with the feel of his tongue on me. But, I loved feeling the frustration and the yearning. I loved being kept on the edge, but I also really wanted to soar right over it.

  Using his fingers again, he dipped them quickly inside the leg of my underwear. Just skimming the flesh of my bud, he denied me of my release, reminding me of what he could do with just a flick of his tongue or a tap of his fingers. His tongue ventured to the edge of my underwear. I squirmed, trying to get him to shift them off or to the side. Briggs chuckled against me, sending vibrations through the material.

  “Patience, Teach,” he ordered, pulling me forcefully against his mouth, the friction of my underwear teasing the crack of my ass. “I’ve got all day. I need to take my time and double check my work.”

  “Your work is outstanding, young man,” I groaned, sitting up. “I’m done, teaching. It’s time to start doing.” I peeled off my shirt, exposing my braless chest. “Are you ready to do me, Briggs?”