it
didn’t matter. He saw it. He saw the small gold cross laying on her full
breasts. Madeline didn’t have breasts like that. She had cute
less-than-a-handful breasts, the kind that didn’t always require a bra. He
adored them.
But in a moment of weakness, he imagined the way the gold cross
would bounce against Julianna’s chest if he were having her, how he might bite
it as she smothered him with her tits. At the time, he actually thought he was
doing the right thing. Like it was better for him not to think those impure
thoughts about his fiancée. For both their sakes.
But he was kidding himself. He had thought about Julianna
because he wanted to. Because she made him think about her by sending that
picture. Because he was so horny for his fiancée that his balls were sore all
the time. Because he needed a release.
But admiring her rack didn’t mean he ever had any intention of
acting on it. She was his student for Christ sakes! He thought if he never
mentioned the picture it would go away. There was always a chance it was
intended for someone else. After all, he hadn’t even given her his number.
But what happened at the library dispelled that theory. It was no
accident. She sent that text to him deliberately. He felt himself getting hard
again just thinking about the way she fondled him so expertly. Her calculated
movements made it impossible for his body to hide its arousal.
It was wrong. Even if she wanted it. Kirk knew his job, his
future, everything was riding on his ability to get through the semester like a
professional. And at no point had his education prepared him for this. He’d
attended hours of courses about preventing harassment in the classroom and
maintaining a professional relationship with students of the opposite sex. No
one had ever even suggested that the teacher might be the victim.
But victim seemed too strong a word. After all, Julianna was a
grown woman, and even though it was wrong on so many levels, he got off on her
and her attention.
He shuddered to think about how unpredictable she was. He had to
say something to her, had to ask that she spare him. He couldn’t trust himself.
He was afraid, afraid that if she kept it up, he might not be able to resist
her.
After all, his primal urges were dangerous, and all this time
waiting for Madeline had made him weak.
He had to put a stop to it. He promised himself he would do
whatever it took to keep his priorities straight and his zipper zipped.
Kirk rubbed his crotch and thought about his soon to be mother
in law which sorted his hard-on right out. Then he took a deep breath and put a
smile on his face. After all, keeping this little issue a secret from Madeline
was priority number one. He loved how fragile she was, how trusting, but if she
knew one of his students had fondled him in a public place, she would probably
have a catastrophic meltdown.
Kirk turned the key in the lock and pushed the weighty door
open.
“Honey?” he asked, closing the door behind him. “I’m home.” He
took his shoes off and put them neatly under the entry way table.
Kirk walked around the downstairs and checked the back garden.
The oven door was open and there was cornbread cooling inside. His mouth
watered, and he was tempted to cut into the bread but decided he would find
Madeline first.
He was halfway upstairs before he heard the muffled crying.
“Madeline?” He started taking the stairs two at a time. “Honey?”
He threw the bedroom door open and the crying got louder.
It was coming from the bathroom.
He knocked hard on the closed door. “Madeline? Are you okay?!”
“Yes,” she sniffled.
“I’m coming in.”
“Okay.”
He opened the door and was hit with a wall of lavender scent.
Madeline had her hair tied up and was having a bubble bath. Her
eyes and nose were red. There were women’s magazines all over the bathroom
floor.
“What’s going on here?” he said, stepping over the magazines until
he reached her side. “I
Learning to Kill: Stories