Mr. Cerulli

Part 6

You tap your pen thoughtfully against your desk, looking towards the front of the room where Cerulli teaches.

You can't stay focused on what he's teaching, all you can look at is his hands. Those long, talented fingers where they gesture at the board, the careful control he seems to always have. He's so elegant, so refined, you can't help but admire him.

You suppose at this point you could skip class every day and you'd still pass, but you don't want to miss out on seeing him; it's become the highlight of your days. Sure, you feel silly, and you can't really even say you're crushing on your teacher after everything that's happened.

You don't know... how you feel.

He's made it very clear there's not to be any emotions involved, and that's definitely practical. He's ten years older than you, if not more, and your teacher. Your father would cross his chest, praise Jesus, and send you to Catholic school before you could breathe if he knew what was happening! Or he'd disown you, you're not sure.

You feel so dumb.

You shouldn't sleep with him, but after how he's been making you feel when it's just the two of you, you're finding it harder and harder to say no. He's always precise with how he uses his hands, his lips, and his words --- he makes you hot unlike you've ever felt.

It's amazing.

You didn't even know you could feel that way!

Exploring your sexuality... well, you're starting to wonder what else you might like. He's always gentle with you, but sometimes, when he gets all commanding... well, you rather like that. When you're uncomfortable or uncertain, you appreciate his soft tones and light suggestions, it helps. 

Maybe when you're actually ready for... sex, and it's no longer uncomfortable, you can explore more options. You know there's plenty of positions, and tons of books about it; you'd once found your mother's dollar store romance books hidden in the closet, so you know there's lots of ways to keep it interesting.

Still... you're definitely sure you're not ready for the crazy stuff.

Cerulli had given you that vibrator as a parting gift, although you haven't used it. You have it safely hidden away in your bedroom where it can't be found. You feel too awkward to use it yourself, plus what if someone hear's the buzzing?

You don't want to risk it!

You squirm in your seat, thinking about the pleasure that little device had given you. You'd thought about it a few times, but you'd always felt too uncomfortable to ---.

You jerk as the bell rings, startling you. Your head raises off your hand as you see everyone gather their things, and you hastily do the same. Your eyes flick to the front of the classroom, but Cerulli pays you no mind; he'd warned you about not staying after class every day, and you get that. You don't want to draw suspicions to the two of you, now do you?

But... well, you kind of want to talk to him. You know today isn't one of "your days," so there's going to be no extra credit when you leave. However, you would like to discuss something a little more professional with him.

"Mr. Cerulli," you say as you approach his desk, causing him to glance up as he dusts his hands off.

"Yes, Miss (Y/L/N)?" he asks nonchalantly, his eyes flicking towards the students leaving.

"Um, I was wondering if you, if you could maybe write me a letter of recommendation. For college." You're a little embarrassed to ask, but you genuinely do need one. You already have one from your literature teacher, but the colleges you've applied, some are asking for a second one. You figure he's as good an option as anyone else.