Author's Note: This is the final, climactic chapter of a female teacher-male student tale that's been long on buildup and short on relief. Reading Chapters 1-3 isn't strictly necessary to enjoy this chapter, but they do provide context for the intense lust on display, along with certain devices such as the dirty note you'll see soon.
Enjoy. :)
*******
Friday
"Ms. K, can you go over this audition tape with me?"
"Ms. K, I need some extra reeds..."
"Ms. K, what do you think of taking a year off to do something totally different before college?"
Liz ran a hand over her long dark hair and glanced around her office, still crammed with papers and books and packed with enough high school students to equal a fire code violation. At 3:30 on a Friday afternoon, she should have been blissfully alone at her desk, working on next week's rehearsal plans. Of course, this was the day kids had decided to mob her.
Auditions, instrument supplies, life advice β everything was fair game today, while her head ached from last night's beers and throbbing music. Not to mention the argument with Rob, when he'd refused to really talk with her...or look her in the eye...or do anything related to sex. And that embarrassing midnight call to Ryan Sullivan, because she'd just had to reassure him about his recommendation. Was that before or after she'd stroked her pussy, moaning, feeling his muscled body on top of hers? Oh, right. In between. Before the second time, after the first time. Shame and lust sent shivers through her skin, reminding Liz just how violently she'd come when she'd imagined Ryan fucking her.
And the dreams she'd had all night long, onstage, bringing the audience to their knees with her saxophone playing, while every piece of clothing slid off her naked curves in front of thousands and... Fuck. The buzz of her alarm at 4:00 am, waking her to write Ryan's damn recommendation, had sealed the deal.
"What?" She frowned up at Shannon, the clarinet section leader, who was holding out a thick envelope. "
You
want a recommendation, too?"
Shannon blinked. "I, uh..."
"Sorry," Liz said quickly. "Of course. I'm happy to do it. For a great student...contributing to band all four years... "
She took the manila envelope and Shannon's stapled resume. God, she had to get all these students out of here before Ryan showed up at 4:00. Not that there'd be any repeat of Wednesday morning, with his warm hands massaging her shoulders, slipping down to cup her breasts, rolling her eager nipples into hard points while she did nothing to stop him...
Liz shook her head quickly, then smiled up at Shannon, who was giving her an odd look. She and Ryan just needed to have a short but firm chat about boundaries. Maintaining appropriate student-teacher relations for the rest of the year, while she ignored the hot, slick ache between her legs. In the meantime, she needed a break.
"Shoo." She waved Shannon towards the office door. "Go outside. It's a gorgeous day. Go soak up some sunshine. Pretend school's out already."
Shannon looked surprised, but she left, clarinet in hand. One by one, Liz urged the rest of the students out of the band room.
*******
At five minutes to four, the basement hallway was completely quiet. Most doors were locked, most classrooms dark. Everyone wanted to be outside, relaxing in the April sunshine. As he walked down the hall, Ryan eyed the spirit posters, the math department bulletin board, the 1970s paint job. Six weeks, and he'd be out of here.
A couple teachers sat grading at their desks, their doors open. On the way downstairs, he'd nodded to some people he knew. But nobody was going to look twice at a senior collecting a recommendation from his band teacher.
He wouldn't look twice either, if it weren't Ms. K. What the hell had been up with that phone call last night? She'd sounded like she'd either just gotten laid or she'd run a marathon. All breathless and sweaty. Firm tits heaving. Toned body glistening. Trying to pull herself together.
We should probably talk in person, Sullivan.
Either way, it was hot as fuck and pretty confusing.
At the band room door, he turned the knob. Shit, he was sweating.
The big room was empty. The chairs were a mess, switched around for jazz band at the end of the day. Sheet music for "Now's the Time" still sat on her music stand, and the door to her office stood open a crack.
Ryan knocked lightly, then pushed the door all the way open.
She was asleep.
Yeah. Ms. K lay sprawled in her swivel chair, her head tilted back, breathing evenly through full lips. Her dark hair was scattered over her shoulders. Her tailored black dress β collared, buttoned down the front, knee-length β clung to her ripe curves and cinched in tightly at the waist. She'd kicked off her low heels, and Ryan's eyes traveled up long, lightly muscled legs. Her knees had fallen apart just enough that his mind went straight up her creamy thighs to wet hot heaven.
Next to her, on the desk that was a total disaster again, sat her phone. A timer ticked down from 2 minutes, 36 seconds. She must have planned to wake up right before he came in.
Ryan took in the sight for a long minute. Damn. His dick was so achingly hard that he reached into his pants to adjust it. One tug would take care of the black belt tied around her slim waist. The big buttons down the front of her dress were begging to be slipped through their holes one by one.
Exhaling, he leaned down and touched the inside of her wrist. "Hey," he said softly.
Ms. K stirred, mumbled something that sounded like "Nuh-uh," and relaxed again.
Ryan put a hand on her shoulder and shook gently. "Ms. K? You all right? Uh, it's time to wake up."
Her eyelids fluttered. Then her dark eyes opened wide.
Liz rubbed her eyes a few times, groggily. No, this wasn't a horny dream. Ryan Sullivan really had shown up early. He was leaning over her, though he'd taken that hand off her shoulder. She caught a faint whiff of masculine scent, met blue-green eyes. His eyebrows were raised, waiting for her to answer.
"Ms. K?" he said again.
Liz could have sworn he looked concerned. About his recommendation, she told herself. Or how the clock wasn't ticking fast enough toward graduation for his entitled ass. She should be sitting up straight and getting herself together. Handing Ryan his recommendation, lecturing him on the behavior he'd better exhibit for the rest of the year, and hustling him out of her office.
Instead, she held that blue-green gaze for a minute, then stretched.