The Teacher

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She was my neighbor’s son’s first-grade teacher and when I saw her tonight, she looked exhausted. I offered to buy her dinner, and she agreed. She met me at the restaurant after putting her groceries away and I smiled at the paint she had on her pants. We talked about how she loved to get down on the floor with the kids and see things from their perspectives. She tilted her chin when she said she didn’t believe there were bad kids, expecting me to argue. I just lost myself in her deep brown eyes. 

It took a while to get her to open up, but I didn’t mind. I loved watching her blossom under my care. One night, I was using her bathroom and looking for some aspirin when I came across a blindfold and a small vibrator. Her cheeks darkened when I brought them out. I teased her with a smile and told her to wait for me on her bed. She thought about it for a minute before she bit her lip and did what I said. 

Over the next few months, I taught her how to submit, and she taught me how to lose control. Hearing her beg for more became a drug I quickly became addicted to. 

One night she asked for something I just couldn’t give, so I walked away. I left her with intimate confidence in her body and the knowledge of how to bring me to my knees.

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