Teacher's pet

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 07

TAEHYUNG

Against my better judgment and all sense of self-preservation, I sought her out in her room less than an hour later.

She was, at least, wearing shorts and a bra now, so she’d actually listened to me for once.
She was sitting in her bed, her hair in a messy bun, school laptop propped in front of her.

“Come downstairs,” I told her gruffly. “I’m going to start helping you catch up on your schoolwork.”

We sat side by side at the kitchen table, and I went through her assignments, one by one. Ironically we didn’t touch on my class or the work she owed me.

It was unethical, but I knew I wasn’t going to fail her, no matter what. I couldn’t say the same for her other teachers.
She’d had a rough few years, and the more I looked into it the more unlikely it seemed she’d be going directly to a university for the next school year.

“I’ll keep looking into it,” I reassured her. “I’ll see what I can do, but there’s also nothing wrong with community college, of course.” She was unresponsive when I spoke about anything after high school.

She still wasn’t comfortable with me paying for college, or with the idea that money wasn’t a problem for her anymore in general. I figured she’d adjust to it with time.“For now, though,” I told her, “getting you to pass all your classes for the semester so you can graduate is the priority.”

That she was more responsive to, and we worked on her schoolwork for hours, making an encouraging amount of progress.

There were more than a few tense moments as we sat side by side our heads canted toward each other as we looked at her laptop together, both of us sharing one small screen out of necessity.

I had my arm around her chair to squeeze in closer as I helped her with geometry. Our thighs were pressed together and more than once her hand found its way to resting on my knee.

I glanced at her, and she seemed absorbed in her work, unconscious of what she was doing.

I didn’t want to pull her off task, and I honestly wasn’t sure if she was messing with me, if she even knew that she was doing it.

We’d been at it for a long time when she started rubbing her temples. I couldn’t help it. I took over, digging my hands in her silky hair to rub her scalp. I was massaging her head with one hand, the other rubbing the nape of her neck when she leaned forward, resting her forehead on the hard table with a soft thump.

I winced in sympathy and pushed my chair back. “You need a break,” I told her firmly. I rose, pulling her with me. “Let’s go sit on the couch for a minute and I’ll rub your head.”

It was a bad idea, but I couldn’t help it. She was so tense and stressed, and I just needed to make her feel better. Simply had to.

I sat on the sofa and pulled her between my legs, rubbing her shoulders. She was very responsive to even a simple touch, which was more than I needed to know. I massaged every tense part of her from the middle of her back to the top her head. She went boneless under my hands.

She was so relaxed. She was leaning back against me, no longer holding her own weight. I let her, even pulling her flush against me, arms wrapping around her to rub her taut abs.

I was hard, of course, but she didn’t comment on the discomfort of my erection stabbing into her as she was trying to relax, and I appreciated that.