"Good afternoon. Mr. Stern?" We'd never met, and only once or twice spoken on the phone, but I could see a little bit of Taylor in this man's eyes. The man who opened the door looked me over for a moment. I wasn't dressed to make much of an impression, nothing more than a simple pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt. They were both of them tight; I figured it wouldn't hurt to try to look decent. Though standing here on the front steps of the father/stepfather of two eighteen-year-old students I'd been covertly sleeping with and had recently gotten thrown out of school, I didn't want to seem like I was trying to look too good. "Don't believe we've met." "I'm Mr. Canon. I'm here about Taylor and Abbie." I didn't bother with more of an introduction than that. With all that was going on, my last name ought to be plenty. My legs were ready to throw me out of the way of a punch, or whatever he threw my way. I hoped it wouldn't come to a fight, but after the predicament I'd helped land

Once upon a time, foreplay had been one of my favorite parts of sex. It built suspense, prolonged sex for that extra stretch. Plus, it was necessary. Most women I'd been with didn't get me hard just by looking at me, nor were they dripping down their thighs simply from the prospect of a few thrusts, Big Gun or no. Now, foreplay was something I only did if I felt like shoving a tit in my mouth, squeezing a girl's ass, sampling the taste of her pussy. When it came down to it, these girls all had me on a hair trigger, and that Abbie's pussy would be gushing wet by the time I shoved my dick in her was something I took for granted. These girls' pussies drooled for me like a bunch of fat kids at the fried oreo booth at the county fair. "Fuck, I love the way you stare at my tits while you fuck me," she murmured elatedly as I did just that. They were mesmerizing, bobbling around in the confines of her bra. I could take it off, but for now, it was amusing watching their struggle for freedom.

She hugged back, sighing a little too audibly into my chest before I stepped back and let her go. I'd already woken up with my dick in her hands not twenty minutes ago; I wasn't trying to reel her back in. "So go on. If you have thoughts, let them out. I can take it." "I wasn't gonna try to tell you how to feel. See, sometimes I try to imagine what this all must be like for you. It's heckin' strange for all of us. Durr, right. Having sex with my next door neighbor, a teacher, knowing he's turned my mom into a hashtag free-use slut, sharing him with a half dozen girls... it's kinda wild. But I bet it's gotta be a lot for you, too, right?" "It can be." Not that I was looking for sympathy. "Yeah. I mean, I know you like us, and you're a nice teacher and you don't want to hurt any of us kids. Even though I know you try not to play favorites though, it's bound to happen. Isn't it? I guess I don't really know what it is you like about her, though. Like, I know Taylor is crazy hot, perfec

Her face took on a serious cast. So serious I was actually taken aback. "Listen. I am mortified by what Taylor made me do for you. Or to you, whatever. It was hard just to walk in here when you came back, knowing what you've seen. What I've shown you. I wanted to curl up in a ball in the women's restroom and just ditch your class." This was not a person who displayed emotional vulnerability casually, but in those wide eyes, I saw real shame. I frowned. "Wait, really? I didn't-" "I feel like such an idiot. But worse, I feel awful for what my cowardice put you through. You are an excellent teacher, Mr. Canon. You've gone the extra mile for me all year, even before all this crud. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. My conscience would never fully heal if I graduated without trying to make things right between us, and leave you on a note that reflects both my respect, and my shame for my poor judgment." I was stunned. Had she really been burying all that? What had I been putting

I was staring at the door, the after-image of Taylor's departure burned into my eyes. When she spoke again, however, I realized something was amiss from the muffled sound of her voice. "She said, 'I am a stupid, easy, flat-chested cocksucking whore,' right? I think I heard that correctly." I turned. Tabitha was at the board, dry erase marker in hand, writing those very words along the bottom of the board. "What on earth are you doing?" "Huh? She said to... you know. Write." She gestured to where I am a stupid, easy, was already enscribed in red marker. "A hundred seems like a lot of times. Is it OK if I stay after school, or should I come back to finish in the morning?" "You don't have to write that!" I snapped. "I do whatever Taylor tells me to do," she replied with chilling casualness, and resumed writing. "Though that goes for you too, obviously Mr. Canon." Still trying to wrap my head around what she was saying, I glanced down at the rolled up paper in my hands. There at the