Graduation Ch. 01

"Nothing happens. You're my student. I can't have sex with you, I'm already in a grey...a dark-grey area by wanting to have sex with you."

"Yeah, and I get that, but I'm not your student anymore," said Caleb. "I'm graduating in three days, you turned in my grades, you don't hold any power over me."

"It doesn't work like that."

"Why doesn't it?"

"Because it..." Penny stopped herself. She looked down and took a breath at throttled speed, while holding a pausing finger up. "It just doesn't," she said before she looked back up. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap."

"No, no," Caleb shook his head, the guilt returning full-force. "I get it. Actually, I'm sorry that I turned into 'that guy' for a second."

Penny gave Caleb a sigh and a smile. "Don't kick yourself. You got excited, I shut you down, you backed off and apologized. That's what respect looks like."

* * * * *

For the next five minutes, all they could think to do was finish their drinks to a soundtrack of muted folk music and the chatter of the few passing customers left before deciding it was time to leave.

It was a warm, thick night in Westbrook Heights; everything just seemed to move slower. Walks that normally took ten minutes took closer to fifteen and felt more like twenty. Sharing such a walk with someone you're fated to have eternally unresolved sexual tension with goes from "awkward" to "fundamentally uncomfortable." During that languid journey to Miss Piper's apartment, Caleb recalled the "How Am I Feeling Today" poster that always caught his eye whenever he visited his guidance counselor, and tried to remember if it had anything on there that described whatever the hell was going through his mind for the last fifteen minutes.

He was relieved, that was for sure. He was definitely excited that Miss Piper felt the same way about him, certainly disappointed in her inability or hesitation to act on those feelings. "Frustrated" felt like it should have been a better word; the hand-holding, the confession, the dress, it all swirled around Caleb's dick and made his jeans a bit tighter. Frustration, however, seemed to imply an anger that somehow eluded him. In fact, all he seemed to care about was Miss Piper's empty hand, and whether taking it back in his own would let her know he was really, truly okay with how things were, or if it would just make an already awkward situation worse.

By the time they passed Silver Spoons, Caleb decided to go for it, and was relieved to feel Miss Piper's hand grasp back and to see her smile at him, however shaky that smile may have been. They continued that way for the last five minutes of the walk, up to the small apartment complex where Miss Piper lived.

"26," she pointed, "Right side, second floor." Westbrook Commons was a pair of long brick two story buildings that faced each other across a modest parking lot, with a smaller administrative building at its end. Caleb continued to escort her, hand in hand, until they were up the stairs and in front of her door. It was there that he finally let go; turning away proved to be more difficult.

"So, yeah," Caleb said.

"Yeah," Miss Piper repeated, laughing.

"Well, I'm glad I ran into you tonight," he said, "even though it took a really shitty day to make it happen."

"And that it ended up getting weird at the end there?"

"That too."

Miss Piper placed her hand on the door and looked up. Her body swayed a bit; maybe from the alcohol, maybe from the indecision. A porch light mounted in the overhang draped her in soft amber that, combined with the sweat that the heat had drawn to the surface of her skin, gave her a sexy, ethereal glow.

"Here's the thing," she sighed. "Even though I'm no longer teaching you in a classroom, I'm still your teacher. You know what I'm saying? That's our relationship, it's locked in. You've been compelled to follow my lead for nine months. If I made a move on you, how do we know you wouldn't feel compelled to...you know?"

On reflex, Caleb opened his mouth to answer, but stopped himself before any words came out. He looked Miss Piper over and briefly considered the frustration in her face. It was definitely frustration, something about her look screamed "anger." But was she angry at him, or just at herself?

"Do you really want me to answer that?" he asked.

Her mouth squirmed; literally chewing on her answer. "Yeah," she finally said. "Humor me."

Caleb took a deep breath. He wanted to go back in time and laugh in his own face for thinking the bookstore confession was opening a door. This felt real, final. Whatever happened after this, there couldn't possibly be any way back.

"Well," he began, "it's a dumb question. Of course I'm 'compelled.' You're fucking gorgeous." Caleb paused for another quick breath, during which he thought he could see Miss Piper blush and ever-so-slightly shrink. "In the nine months I've been 'following your lead,' I went from 'Gee, it'd be swell to see her naked' to 'Oh my God I wish she could be my first.' Now that it seems like I got a chance at that -- ridiculously small as it is -- I'm absolutely compelled."

"But that's part of the problem."

"Yeah, well, that's the other thing: If you're talking about rape or abuse? I'm 18. And I don't feel pressured, or groomed, or what-the-fuck-ever. I feel like a grown-ass man trying to talk his hot teacher into bed. If anything, I'm worried that I'm pressuring you right now, because even though I shouldn't care, even though I don't have the right to feel this way given how many women I keep turning down...I really, really do not like being a virgin."

If Miss Piper did blush, it had faded, replaced with strange, studious eyes and a wan smile that could have meant anything from "I'm going to FUCK him" to "What a strange, silly boy."

Then she was closing the distance between them with short, confident steps, holding those eyes on him as she grasped his shoulders, leaned in...

...and kissed him on the cheek.

"Good night, Caleb."

The door shut behind her.

Caleb allowed himself a single hot second to quietly curse his fortune before he took a hard breath out and drew in an acceptance of the situation.

He started the walk back to his car at Silver Spoons, telling himself it was okay, that this was how it was meant to be, and the thing he wanted probably would've backfired in epic fashion. His phone buzzed, probably with a text from Mom wondering if he was okay, but he ignored it to contemplate the idea that he was drunk on a fantasy of sex and that the reality was likely to be different and awkward and yeah, he liked Miss Piper a lot, and he trusted her enough to think that if he came too fast or handled her too rough or cried in the middle of it (he only heard that was a thing; he doubted it could happen to him but what the fuck did he know?), she'd be all right and she'd help him through it. She was right as ever, though; college was going to open up a whole new world to him. His first time might be with someone he could pursue an actual relationship with; it wasn't something he needed, but it certainly wouldn't be so bad.

His phone buzzed again, five steps from his car, and he pulled it out to assure Mom that he was okay, no, fine, no, great, really, and on his way home.

That was the plan, anyway. Then he saw the texts weren't from his mother.

>Don't leave yet.

>If you're already on the road, go back to Silver Spoons and stay in your car.

Before Caleb could ask himself what was happening, a new text from Miss Piper came through:

>Also, call your mother. Let her know you might stay at a friend's house tonight.

"Oh my fucking God." It had to be said out loud. Caleb got in his car and locked the door.

His first call wasn't to Mom; it was to Chris, his wide receiver friend. He told him that he met a girl over at Silver Spoons and he needed an alibi. Chris excitedly agreed to back up any story he told about a drunken Call of Duty session with the boys. "But look, man, in case something happens," he asked, "who is this chick?"

"Dude, chill the fuck out, she's not gonna murder me!"

"Yeah, maybe not, that shit happens more to women than men." Chris was obsessed with true crime stories and assumed that everyone, man and woman, was an ill-advised hookup away from being disappeared. "But you don't know, man! You think that dude Jodi Arias was banging thought she was crazy? I mean, when do you think he figured it out, after the tenth stab wound or the twenty-second?"

"Fine—"

"Maybe it was when she slit his throat. He definitely knew the score when she walked away from his bleeding ass then came back with a gun—"

"ALL RIGHT, dude, I get it! Drew, from Silver Spoons? The bartender? He knows what she looks like. But you cannot go probing on this. She's got a reputation to protect, and the last thing I want is the fucking Westbrook Heights Bro Force ruining her life because they're proud of me for finally getting laid. Copy?"

"All right, man, I hear you." Caleb could trust that he did. The team was going to hear that he traded in his V-Card, of course; no getting around that. However, Caleb could also trust that if Chris ever somehow figured out that he was sleeping with a teacher, he'd keep it to himself.

With that taken care of, he texted Mom with his cover story, then he texted Miss Piper to let her know he was all set.

>Good.

>I'm going to give you a pop quiz.

>10 questions. 30 secs. to answer each question to discourage cheating.

>Just to make it interesting, let's say you need an 80 to pass.

Well, holy shit, thought Caleb. Miss Piper was playing the teacher thing to the hilt; to what end, he wasn't sure.

>Let's start with vocab.

>Q1: Which of these words best describes "lecherous; erotic"?

>A: Opulent

>B: Salacious

>C: Trite

>D: Candid

This one was easy; it was on his final. Caleb texted back "B."

Thirty seconds later, a picture arrived. It was the belt of Miss Piper's dress, lying on a plush-looking grey carpet.

>Correct.

The stakes were making themselves clear. Caleb sucked in a big gulp of air, compensating after forgetting how to breathe for a moment.

>Here's a good one:

>Q2: Which of these best describes "cunning or craftiness"?

>A: Jingoism

>B: Benevolence

>C: Contrition

>D: Guile

Another one from the final, but the coincidence was funny. Caleb texted back "A."

>Incorrect.

"Oh, shit," he said out loud.

>You may have noticed: The vocab questions are from your final.

>The first question was one you got right.

>The rest are questions you got wrong.

>Think about these carefully before you answer. You don't want to miss any more.

"You're a diabolical genius," Caleb texted back.

>No I'm not.

>I'm just your hot teacher. ;)

>Q3: "Vulnerable"?

>A: Benign

>B: Susceptible

>C: Contumacious

>D: Jocular

Caleb remembered this one. He went with "benign" on the final because he heard the phrase "benign tumor" thrown around a lot and assumed that had something to do with it. "Susceptible" was his next best guess, and he felt confident in it, so he texted back "B."

Within 15 seconds, another picture landed on his phone: the back of Miss Piper's dress, unzipped to the waist, showing off the back strap of her bra and the faintest swell of what was promising to be a rounded behind.

This game was so fucking on; hopefully literally. Caleb was determined to wrap this up by question 9 because the load boiling in his balls wouldn't have it any other way.

Question 4 was about "melancholy; a longing for." Caleb didn't remember this question from the final, but he went with "wistful" and was rewarded with a shot of Miss Piper's pretty feet; one bare, one with her low-heeled pump half-on, as if in the process of being kicked off. The fifth question was about "concerned with the sense of taste." That question he remembered, but none of the other answers looked right; he decided to roll the dice on C, "gustatory," and hope the other questions weren't too hard. To his delight, he got an upskirt shot that revealed a wet circle on the gusset of Miss Piper's panties.

And then, nothing.

Nothing for long enough to worry that Miss Piper was freaking out or stuck or something, and then longer after that.

His phone finally buzzed, but it was his mother wishing him a good time, assuring him he earned it. If she only knew.

He flipped back to Miss Piper's window and started to type something, but quickly got another message.

>Sorry for the holdup.

>Just so you know, if I make you uncomfortable AT ANY POINT, don't be afraid to stop me. I want this, but only if you want it too.

Caleb smiled, and texted back "Don't worry. Couldn't be more psyched."

For a moment he worried that he might fall for...well, Penny. Maybe a part of him had. But if he loved her for anything besides how much she obviously cared for him, he loved her for giving him the confidence to believe he could meet someone even better for him, and his greatest hope was that she could meet someone even better for her.

And with that, his own concern for her kicked in. Quickly, before she could resume her pop quiz, he added "Just so you know, nobody else will ever see these pictures. Not my parents, not my teammates, not my best friends, no one. You could cut my balls off and I still wouldn't release them."

It took another eternity for her to respond. It suddenly occurred to him that this danger never occurred to her, and putting the idea in her head was likely to slam the brakes on the whole thing. But before he could panic, she finally texted back:

>Thank you. Don't worry, I wouldn't do this if I didn't trust you.

>(And wasn't willing to face the consequences.)

>Anyway, you're just stalling because it's time for you to answer some lit questions.

>There's no multiple choice, so I'll give you two minutes to answer each one.

The love Caleb was scared of, as he understood it, involved feelings of possession and wanting to be possessed. Whatever Caleb's feelings, they didn't involve wanting to possess Penny as his own. All he wanted to do right now was fuck the holy shit out of Miss Piper.

Four more right answers, he thought to himself. Let's do this.

His phone buzzed again.

>Q6: What does the title "The Grapes of Wrath" refer to?

Easy; it was Miss Piper's most memorable lecture. "A call to a higher power to right the wrongs done to farmers by the corporate class."

The brief period of moral panic had softened Caleb up a bit, but the next picture -- delivered nigh-reflexively -- flooded his cock once more. Miss Piper's bra dangled from her fingers, close enough to the label to identify her as a 32DD. I got her topless. I got Miss Piper topless. Holy shitting fuck my English teacher is topless.

>Q7: Give me an example of dramatic irony in MacBeth.

Shit, shit, shit. Dramatic irony, that was when the audience or reader knew something the characters didn't. So when did he know a crucial piece of information before MacBeth did?

Wait. Did it have to be before MacBeth knew?

"Duncan trusting MacBeth," Caleb texted, "even though we know MacBeth plans to kill him."

Caleb was wrong: Miss Piper wasn't topless just yet. But the shot of her with bare shoulders, holding her dress to her breasts, angled down into a far deeper look at her cleavage than he was used to while she looked up at the camera, was the next best thing. To top it off, the picture had caught her licking her soft, glistening upper lip.

And she continued to wear her glasses, which Caleb adored. They gave her sexiness an innocent, amateurish edge that set her apart from so many other women.

>Q8: What is the significance of the red hunter's hat that Holden Caulfield wears in The Catcher in the Rye?

It was the worst time to forget the names of Holden's siblings. With the clock working against him, he did the best he could and prayed for mercy. "He wants to stay connected to his sister and dead brother, who both have red hair," he typed out.

He waited. The usual thirty seconds seemed to pass like five minutes, and he tried desperately to take his mind off the throbbing erection he was so desperate to stroke away.

Finally his phone buzzed. He picked it up:

>I need more for full credit.

"SHIT!"

>What's the symbolic importance of the red cap?

>One minute left.

Caleb frantically tapped his fingers to his thumbs, racking his brain for the right lecture, the right homework assignment, the one that was going to bring it home. With 15 seconds on the clock, the word "INNOCENCE" suddenly popped into his brain, and he typed it in and sent it.

And then he had another thought.

"Do I get extra credit for recognizing the irony of asking this question?"

As the seconds began to pass slowly once more, Caleb wondered if Miss Piper would get the joke about holding onto innocence during a test seemingly designed to measure his right to give his to her. Did he elaborate enough? Should he have explained the joke like a loser?

His phone buzzed.

>You tell me.

The picture that followed seconds later almost made him cream him jeans.

The dress was finally gone. The shot was of Miss Piper in profile, her hand stuffed in her panties, pushed halfway down, revealing the gentle slope of her ass. Her head was thrown back, pushing out a naked pair of magnificent teardrop breasts topped by pale cherry nipples. Her mouth was frozen in the throes of an intense gasp, and Caleb figured he had to have the same look on his face.

Before he could pour over all the details of the shot, the 9th question arrived, and Caleb was determined to make it the last.

>Q9: In Pride and Prejudice, Mr. Darcy is attracted to Elizabeth's "fine eyes." What does this say about Darcy and Elizabeth?

Fucking hell, she wants me to answer THAT in two minutes? The thought only occupied Caleb's head for a moment before he decided that he wasn't going to get this one by fretting. His thumbs blurred over the phone, punching in terse words about Elizabeth's dark brown eyes being symbolic of the prejudice that blinds her, and how even though that prejudice frustrated Darcy's attempts to get to know her better, that same prejudice -- that same complexity -- is what keeps drawing his eye.

Thirty seconds went by.

A minute went by.

He wondered if his answer was too simplistic. He had hoped that Miss Piper would cut him some slack.

Ninety seconds went by.

Finally, his phone buzzed. He was almost afraid to pick it up.

But he was glad he did when he saw the new picture of Miss Piper, fully nude in a full-length mirror that showed her from her absolutely perfect rear, looking over her shoulder. In one hand she held her cell phone. The other crooked its finger toward the mirror in a "come hither" motion.

Caleb didn't need to be told twice. Suddenly he was bolting up the steps of the right-most Westbrook Commons building and turning the knob to 26.

It was locked.

He turned the knob again, accepting that he had been driven insane. He knocked.

His phone buzzed.

>Uh uh uh.

>All you did was pass.

>The best rewards are for the overachievers...