See Me After Class(69)

“I’ve thought about doing this to you ever since I stole your vibrator. I’ve just been waiting for the right moment.”

“What . . . what made that moment today?” she asks, spreading her legs even wider.

“This dress. I saw you walking down the hallway and I knew I needed to fuck you in it.”

“Well, you’re not really fucking me, now, are you? A vibrator is.”

I turn up the speed, and she jolts when I bring it closer to her center.

“It’s still me controlling it, knowing when to turn it up, when to turn it off, when to torture you.” I slip the vibrator under her thong and rub it against her slit.

“Dear God, please forgive me,” she says.

“I wish I could see your face. I want to know what you’re feeling.”

“Turned on. Breathless. Useless.”

“Do you wish this was my cock?” I ask, moving the vibrator away, only to push it back on her clit.

“I wish I was able to touch your cock,” she says.

“Are you saying you’re greedy for it, Miss Gibson?”

“Yes,” she says, just as there’s a knock on the door and it opens. Greer sits straight up, but I don’t move . . . and I don’t turn off the vibrator.

“Greer, do you have a moment?”

“Principal Dewitt,” Greer says as I turn off the vibrator. She doesn’t move—she can’t, or else she risks the possibility of exposing me. “Of . . . of course.”

I switch the vibrator on, the buzzing sound easy to hear in the quiet classroom. Her legs clench and I smile so hard, my cheeks start to hurt.

“What’s that buzzing sound?” Nyema asks.

Greer laughs awkwardly. “Yeah, I . . . uh . . .”

I turn it off; her legs relax.

“I think it’s the air conditioner.”

“Oh, okay, how annoying. I’ll put a word in with maintenance.”

I turn it back on and press harder against her clit.

“Oh, there it goes again,” Greer says, her voice strained. “Darn that air conditioner. Keeps us c-cool, but . . . oh God.” She swallows hard. “Sorry, I have a . . . um, my back. Oo, it’s . . . hello, it’s cramping up. Old volleyball . . . wooo”—she blows out a long breath—“injury.”

I switch the vibrator off.

“Oh, maybe you should get up and stretch.”

“Nope, good . . . I’m good.”

“Okay. Well, I wanted to talk to you about the volleyball team.”

I turn on the vibrator.

“Oh, dear God . . . what about them?” she asks, her voice attempting to sound casual. “Sorry, little hyped up from the buzzing.” Technically, that’s not a lie. “It’s been driving me nuts all day.”

“Understandable. Anyway, we’ve a bit of a bus issue for the game tonight. There aren’t any available. Could I ask you and Stella to drive two twelve-passenger vans to the game?”

“Umm, yeah. Sure.” Her legs clutch around my hand like a vise. “Do we have permission to do that?”

“Yes, the permission slips the parents signed at the beginning of the season cover that.”

I ramp up the vibration.

“Yes!” she says loudly. “Yes, that would . . . uh-huh, yup, we can do that.”

“Wonderful.” Nyema pauses and then says, “I’ll send maintenance over after school, get that fixed for you.”

“Th-thank you.”

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it. Thank you for being flexible.”

“Of course.”

“Door shut?” Nyema asks.

“Pl-lease,” Greer stutters.

The door clicks shut, Greer exhales, and I dip the vibrator closer.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” she whispers. “Oh, fuck, Arlo.” And then she’s coming. From under the desk, I watch her convulse, her entire body shuddering as she rides out her orgasm.

When her legs fall open again, I take that moment to remove the vibrator and press my mouth against her arousal, lapping up every last drop. She lets out a long moan. I push her away from the desk and crawl out to observe her.

Cheeks red.

A light sheen of sweat on her upper lip.

Completely sated.

“I hate you,” she says, her beautiful eyes opening up to me.

“No, you don’t.” I reach over, place the vibrator in one of her drawers, and then turn to leave.

She grabs my hand, though, and stands on wobbly legs. I help steady her, but once she’s set, her eyes go from hazy lust to pure anger.

She pushes at my chest and asks, “Are you insane?”

“No.”

“Arlo, you could have gotten us in serious trouble.”

“Maybe. Good cover with the air conditioning.” I tip her chin up. She swats my hand away.

“Stop acting like what you just did was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing.” I grip her hip and pull her in tight so she can feel me, how heated and turned on I am. “It very much was something.”

“You could have gotten me fired.”

I shake my head. “A mere slap on the wrist.”

“She doesn’t like promiscuous activity.”