Teaching Her A Lesson Pt 23

Part Twenty-Three: Senior Pranks

There is a sense, as a high school teacher, that one never really left high school. Yes, I got paid to attend, did more grading than being graded, didn't have to participate in group showers, and wasn't constantly preoccupied with getting laid. At least not in more ordinary times. (Hmm, come to think of it, I suppose I'd been indulging in group showers a bit, too.)

Even so, many of the trappings still surrounded me. The closely regimented schedule, having to wait to go to the bathroom for hours on end, peer pressure, bullying. Above all, though, there was the drama. Gossip, rumor-mongering, the strange way I always seemed to know what the popular kids were doing. My third year teaching, I'd found out that a student was about to be dumped before it even happened. I'd offered a few words of consolation only to receive a bewildered look. One simply heard things.

Most of the time, it was a burden. I didn't want to know who my students were sleeping with, or crying over, or who'd made up lies about whom, or that Owen Brendle had one testicle. It probably aided in building connections and empathy, but it could make for a real distraction at times.

Suddenly, though, trapped in my home and unable to mire myself in it, I was aching for a little gossip.

It came in dribbles. Isa texted me Wednesday morning to let me know Detective Shipman had come in to interview the girls. He used her office to do it. Cassie was nervous enough that she asked if the resource officer could accompany her, which Isa used to pass along the sorts of questions he was asking. Nothing unexpected. If it was true she'd exposed herself; why; the general nature of her relationship with me. Isa said she handled it well, and her nervous stammers played out more like embarrassment than shame. I asked the difference; she explained that people were embarrassed when they acted stupidly, but ashamed when they knew they'd transgressed.

It sounded subjective as hell to me, but Isa wasn't one to dole out false comfort. Not to me, anyway. Although, she did point out she'd put in that good word for me. Then again, she'd also added that she wasn't sure what it had accomplished. He shared that he hoped to have it wrapped up soon, though what "soon" meant to Shipman was anyone's guess. We didn't know much more than we did before.

Megan stopped in for a while before her evening shift to check in on me. From her, I got an earful about how distraught Cassie was about all this. Poor kid had even told her about the "I love you" incident over the weekend.

"Man, she really doesn't have a filter, does she," I grumbled.

"Not where you're concerned. It sounds like you handled it well enough, let her down gently. I mean, apart from the ass-fuck, but that was good, too. Brad, when I was feeling low, he always knew the best way to pull me out was to push it in."

"Like mother, like daughter, it seems," I replied dryly. "If you can help keep her grounded... I don't want to hurt her. She's a great girl, but you know as well as I do that however this ends up, it's not me and Cassie falling in love and starting a family."

"No, I imagine not. Don't think it'd feel right, sucking off my own son-in-law," she laughed. Evidently it felt fine sucking off her daughter's booty caller. It sure felt fine to me.

"Just tell her as soon as this all blows over, hers is the first ass I want to fuck."

"I'll bet. Girl's got a butt all right. I mean believe me, I'd offer up mine, but you and I know both I got nothing on that kid of mine."

"Nonsense. Come on, show me that ass, Meg." She made a show of her self-consciousness as I spun her around and worked her jeans down.

"Stop! Oh gosh, I don't even have cute underwear on today."

"There's a cure for that," I countered, and tugged the underwear down, too. (It was indeed drab.) Beneath it was that round, ample Brown ass. Taylor and Abbie, my lovers with the most generously proportioned backsides, would be lucky to keep it that juicy at Megan's age.

"Want me to get the lube?" she asked.

I shrugged, nodded. Why not? I was stuck here, and if I'd lost my job and was about to lose my freedom, may as well enjoy what I had left while I had it.

A thick glob of the stuff was already filling her palm as she returned to the room, casually kneeling down and massaging it onto my ready member. She glanced up and said, "Maybe best we don't tell Cassie about this. I know it's not 'official' like the booty call thing, but the poor kid definitely sees herself as your reigning anal queen. Would break her heart to know you'd loved another, especially mine."

With that, she was standing up and pivoting, pulling her ass cheeks apart as she lowered herself toward me. At the last second, I tugged back, and after a moment of trying to locate the tip of my cock with her asshole, Megan tumbled awkwardly down into my lap. "Whoa! What happened there?"

"I... you're right. Cassie wouldn't like it. Tell you what, let's do it regular today, OK? Just climb on and fuck me, and we'll call it a day."

She arched a brow. "You're sure? You wanna fuck an ass, I'm happy to be the ass you fuck. I'm down for whatever. Besides, I owe you."

"I know you are, Meg. Just... shut up and fuck me, OK?"

She tapped my nose playfully as she once more reared up to mount me, though this time face to face. "You say the sweetest things, Canon."

I let Megan do the work. After all, she was the one paying down a debt. She didn't let my distractedness deter her, either, grinding those wide hips of hers with vigor.

Why had I turned her down? It wasn't like I'd made a promise to Cassie to use her ass exclusively. I'd even promised Tabitha that very morning to give her a chance to do a little "holework" (my pun, but I

think

her laugh was sincere...?) on that front. Or back, as it were.

Now though, I felt bad. All I was putting them through, and who knew how much worse it could get... not fucking her mom's ass was literally the least I could do for her.

It got me thinking, though. What else

could

I do for Cassie? For any of them? Assuming I didn't go to jail for this, pretty soon we'd be free to do whatever we wanted. I doubted I'd want to flaunt it, take my sextet of fawning fuck toys to the public pool in string bikinis and show off my bounty, feed the rumor mill. Still, there was no law against fucking

former

students. If I wanted to rent an RV and take the lot of them on a cross-country sexcapade, there was nothing to stop me. (Maybe Abbie's summer school enrollment, considering the likelihood that she'd have courses to make up.)

We'd been through a lot together, they and I, even in such a relatively short span. For all the grief and anxiety they'd put me through, on the whole, it had been the most amazing month of my life to date. The sex, yes, but it was more than that. Relationships like I'd never made before. The thrill of intrigue. The way I'd rethought my career, my life. The surge of self-confidence as I rode roughshod over the hurdles in my way. The surge of self-confidence as I rode a bunch of eighteen-year-old babes. I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Again, assuming I didn't go to prison for it. Then a trade would be looking mighty tempting.

I waved Megan off at the last moment and came all over her face and her tits. She hadn't even taken her shirt off, but I instructed her to leave it there, wear it to work like that. Cassie would approve; she got a big kick out of the power I had over her mom.

"I guess I'll make something up," she said, inspecting the dribbles already seeping into her top. It was royal blue, and fairly conspicuous. I expected it would remain so. "Ah well, my boss thinks I'm a harlot already ever since I got a little drunk at last year's Christmas party and made out with one of the other managers. Didn't sleep with him, though."

"Yeah, I remember you told me that. At least this time he'll be right about thinking you're a slut, if that's any consolation."

"Don't you know the difference between a slut and a bitch? A slut fucks everybody. A bitch fucks everybody but

you

," she said with a chuckle. "Still gonna be a bitch in his book, I guess. C'est la vie. Anything else I can do for you before I skedaddle?"

No

, I thought. That certainly ought to be my answer. I shouldn't even hesitate. The more I fraternized, the greater the risk. Just because they were hot, young, desperately eager sex slaves didn't mean I had to--

"Send Cassie over tonight. Late. Sneak in the back. I still need some ass." And the words crept out before my resistance could finish its thought process.

That, of all things, brought a smile to the face of the ass's mother. "Atta boy. You two keep it quiet though, right? Can't have you landing yourself in a worse situation than you're already in, man."

"We'll be quiet."

I had a few hours then to wonder what the fuck I was thinking. Wasn't this dogged think-with-your-dick lustfulness exactly what had landed me in such hot water to begin with? (That and my idiot friend Jay, but I'd chew his stupid ass out once I knew exactly how thoroughly it was deserved.)

Still, like Isa had said, they weren't going to be surveilling me. Even if they were driving by the place, they weren't going to see Cassie creeping through the yard. Fuck it. I had a beautiful, sweet-hearted young woman who wanted to fuck me, and I wasn't going to waste what might be my final days of freedom not doing just that.

I thought you should know how wet you're making my pussy right now, Mr. Canon.

The attached pictures were discernible as a pair of starkly contrasted upskirt photos of a bare pussy. One was somewhat blurry and so dark I never would have identified it for what it was without that caption. The other was much crisper, the skirt spread wide and the pussy much more recognizable.

Are you texting me beaver shots in the middle of my class, Tabitha???

I snapped.

Yes and no. One was taken in the bathroom, after the one I tried to sneak during class turned out so poorly. But I wanted you to know I tried.

Maybe try paying attention to the lesson?I didn't know what the lesson even entailed, but Amy had access to my lesson plans and final exam, so she'd no doubt be making sure things got done. They

should

be finishing

Catcher

today in senior English, then distributing the final exam study guides for next week. I hated not knowing.

Your sub is awful. He doesn't know any of the material. He spent the first ten minutes of class trying to figure out how to work the projector because he wouldn't let me show him how.

That didn't bode well.

Mr. Latmer?

No, Mr. Ashmore. Can I come over tonight?

Sorry, hon. Already made plans.

Plans? With one of us, or with persons uninvolved?

I rolled my eyes.

Not that it's your business, but I'm having Cassie over.

May I ask to what ends, sir? That was Tabitha, all right. Adding the sir to feed my ego, knowing I'd know she was trying to get something from me in exchange, and counting on me to recognize what and respect the effort.

Booty call. Literally.

Why be coy, after all.

Perfect! I'll work things out with her.

Unless you know of a way to fuck two butts at the same time, I think she has this covered, Tabitha. Wait your turn.

There was no reply.

Oh well. The nice thing about Tabitha disobeying me was how satisfying she was to correct. Just so long as I didn't let her get into a pattern in which she blew me off just only to buy her way out of the penalty box by offering up her heinie for disciplinary action. I had enough issues with women who felt entitled to walk all over me without adding a second one into the mix. I hadn't been able to handle one Abbie, much less two.

The next gossip dribble came an hour later when Candy texted me within minutes of the school day's conclusion. Unlike the girls she used my regular number, considering she was a colleague and, as far as any nosy police were concerned, a friend.

Horen's holding an emergency meeting after school today. I think she's going to announce your firing.

I sighed. The woman couldn't legally discuss the reason behind my firing, at least not until -- if -- it became an issue of criminality. Still, I supposed it was to be expected that people would be curious about my absence. All it would take is someone asking Amy over lunch if she knew anything about why I'd been out the past couple days, and I could believe the look on her face as she murmured the party line would only raise more questions.

Are people talking?

I'm a bad one to ask. Been busy the past couple days. You know how it is.

True. My "free time" the past couple days had been absorbed fighting to get caught up on grading from several weeks of assignments. It did help keep my mind off of things, and if I did get to go back, it would be sorely necessary. My first year teaching, my great uncle's funeral had taken me away from my workload for the final weekend of the spring semester, and I'd been so backed up that I pulled back to back all-nighters during finals week to get finished.

Do some damage control for me, all right? If things start coming out, anything you can do to cast doubt could help.

I'll try? Not sure who cares what I say, but if that's the plan I'll do my best.

Atta girl. Keep me posted, and tell Isa that master said she's a weak easy slut.

lol I can't wait to see the look on her face!

A meeting, eh. That one was hard. I was no expert on what could and couldn't be shared by Principal Horen. Employment law wasn't covered in teacher school. Still, I doubted that whatever confidentiality I might enjoy extended to issues of student discipline, so the rest didn't really matter. The trip from "by the way, apropos of nothing, we found four girls exposing themselves in H121 Monday afternoon" to "oh isn't that Mr. Canon's room? Say, where's he been the past two days?" could be measured with a slide rule. From there, I'd be an object of suspicion in perpetuity.

Maybe Megan had been right, resigning was the way to go. Spare the girls any more discomfort for lying to me, avoid a potentially hostile work environment. There was no need to decide until I knew I wasn't being arrested, though, so we'd cross that bridge when we came to it.

Tonight was the last girls track meet of the season, so it would be hours yet before Cassie (and probably Tabitha) would arrive. Focusing enough to grade papers was beyond me right then; all I could think of was the look on sweet old Mrs. Sponheimer's face at the suggestion that I'd defiled her students. The covert bro nod I'd get from Coach Mosshammer (or if not him specifically, some other pig just like him) for bagging teen babes. It was a lot to process.

For a minute, I even considered spraying my arm with the last of my Serenex, just so I wouldn't have to worry about it any more. It would just be another thing I would tolerate henceforth. But that was a pussy move, and I am not a pussy.

Then I heard something smack into my front window.

It's a startling thing, to suddenly find one's sanctum is being violated. As I ran to the front window and threw open the curtains, there it was, a yellow blob oozing down the pane. No sooner did I recognize the nature of the attack than did a second egg pelt the space right next to it, startling me so much that I stumbled back and actually fell down. A series of mad cackles issued from outside as the rate of

splat

intensified. Some were still colliding with the front windows, but others sounded to be cracking against the siding.

I was back on my feet in a rush, sprinting outside. Already in the midst of retreating were three familiar backsides, thicc, curvy and scrawny respectively. Dropping her carton of eggs behind her, Abbie cackled all the way back to their waiting ride. Taylor threw herself behind the wheel, and Justin simply dove in the open rear window as the accelerator roared into action. The junky old car might have moved faster if they'd given it a push start. Still, it was fast enough that they were halfway down the block before I rushed out barefoot to the curb. Justin's hand extended out the window to flip me off as the car rounded the corner.

"Son of a bitch!" I exclaimed to no one in particular. I looked back to my house, They'd gotten it pretty good -- probably unloaded a carton apiece. Runny yolks and gooey whites liberally decorated the front of my house. Little assholes even hit my air conditioner -- need to clean that out thoroughly or not even Serenex would compel girls back into my house. Not that it seemed to be working especially well on those two girls anyway.

What the fuck as the matter with those two?

I thought as I unspooled the hose and started the process of rinsing the house clean. Could they really be pissed about taking the fall for what had happened Monday? They were the ones who couldn't keep their pants on! The audacity! A car honked at me as it drove by at a suitable pace for rubbernecking; the tinted windows protected their identity, but the GHS football bumper sticker gave me a reasonable guess about the basic nature of whoever was amusing themselves with my plight. They weren't the last, others joining in mocking me as I fetched a bucket and wiped down the windows with what was briefly warm soapy water. The brisk afternoon soon robbed it of its heat, leaving me damp and shivering. Here and there bits of eggshell clung to the side of my house, grudgingly trickling down as I scrubbed at them.

This would have been a fine task for Megan if it could have waited until tonight.

After spending the better part of an hour spritzing the place down, shivering like mad as the spray gradually soaked my clothes altogether, I at last accepted that I'd done the best I could. My house had gotten egged once in high school and I'd done a half-assed job cleaning it up; the place had stunk to high heaven within twenty-four hours. Hopefully I'd gotten it well enough. Cursing Justin and the Sterns all the while, I put the hose and bucket away. As I took one last inspection, I realized one of them had left their mostly empty carton by the sidewalk, apparently having dropped it in their haste. I retrieved it and, realizing there was still a little heft to it, and took a peek inside.

There were two eggs in there. More pressingly, words were scribbled on the lid of the interior in black marker.

PS sorry bout the eggs dawg!

it read in what I recognized as Taylor's handwriting. A doodle of a sad dog was sketched alongside it on the right, and on the left, a penis, big hairy balls and all. Wow. Just... wow.

Before I could wonder long about the notation of a postscript, I saw one of the eggs had something written on it in crayon also.

can I please please please please please come over 2nite?

I couldn't tell if this was also Taylor, or Abbie. God, don't let it be Justin. The second egg read,

I'm SO FUCKING HORNY!!!

Damnit to hell, all that to get a message to me?! I could slap those girls, but that would only piss them off and make them even worse.

Fuck buddies like mine, who needed fuck enemies?

After giving the place a quick once over and a run to the grocery store for some necessary supplies, I lay down for a nap. This should be a fruitful night.

"I hope it's OK I brought a friend, Mr. Canon. Tabitha and I randomly bumped into each other in the lot after the game, and we started talking -- not where anybody could hear us! don't worry, we're not totally stupid. At first it was about the whole booty call thing, but then we kept talking and I realized we actually have a lot in common. You, obviously, and the whole Serenex mind control conspiracy thing, but also, we're the same class in school, same gender, we both like

Jane the Virgin

, both Pisces... It's wild, when you think about it. Anyway we started talking about you, and about things, and I sorta let it drop that you were making an exception and letting me come over tonight for some sproinky doinky, and she didn't say it but I could tell she was sorta jealous, and I figured it wasn't really fair that only me should get to break the rule, and it wouldn't be any more conspicuous with two of us coming over than one, and she had this smart idea to wear all these black clothes -- don't worry, I'll take them off in a sec -- and I know how you like to be teamed up on and she's

so

pretty that I wouldn't think you'd mind. Is that all right?"