Teacher's Pet

TAEHYUNG 

I want you to be my first.

I stared for a moment at the strange text from an unknown number.

My response was quick and simple:

Me: I think you have the wrong number.

I shouldn’t have even had my phone out. I usually had it locked away— trying to be a good example to my class that you didn’t have to live on your phone.

I glanced up as my students started filing into my classroom. Every single one of them was on their phones, and it would stay that way until the bell rang and I made them put them away. It was a given.

Even as I had the thought, my phone dinged another text at me, and I glanced down at the screen.

No. I’m definitely talking to you, Taehyung.

I’ve never been fucked, and I want my first time to be with you.

What in the ever-loving hell? I thought, taking a seat behind my desk, never taking my eyes off my phone.

I texted back:

Who is this?

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” a low, raspy female voice said from directly in front of my desk. It wasn’t a voice suited to a high school English classroom, and it certainly shouldn’t have belonged to a girl that was barely legal.

I reluctantly looked up at my most vexatious student.

Y/n Jeon beamed back at me. She was a problem. Head to toe, a problem. Her silky black hair. Her fuck me, Daddy lips. Her huge, real, barely legal tits. Her dusky golden, way too accessible flesh. Her long, thick lashes shading gorgeous, dark bedroom eyes. Her tiny waist that I could span with my hands.

Her career-ending ass.

They were all problems. Problems that I was determined couldn’t and wouldn’t be my problems.

“Hello, Miss Jeon,” I said coldly, trying my best to sound impersonal and professional. Anything to compensate for the fact that my cock got hard at just the sound of her voice. I made myself break eye contact with her. “Please take your seat,” I told her.

She moved away to obey. Unfortunately, I glanced up as she did so. That career-ending ass was barely covered in a school uniform, pleated skirt that was definitely shorter than dress code. Shorter by a long shot. I had no clue how she even got away with it. I almost called her out on it, but stopped short. Pointing out that I was aware of it was not in my best interest or hers. Some other teacher would hopefully notice and put a stop to it. I needed to stay as uninvolved as possible with that landmine of a student.

The school I worked at had uniforms not because it was some posh private school. It was just the opposite. It was one of the worst schools in the county, and that was really saying something in seoul. The uniforms had been implemented when gangs started openly recruiting on school property. It was one of many efforts the district had enacted to keep the students less distracted and more focused on education.

I had no idea if it did any of that, but it was a fact that on one student in particular that uniform was distracting the hell out of me. Y/n sat down slowly, unconsciously arching her back as she wiggled into the old-fashioned, wooden desk chair.

She always sat in the front row, closest to my desk. She often had a candy in her mouth, making those fuck me lips tantalizingly wet, making my mind go inevitably to other things I liked wet.

She lowered her eyes demurely as she ran her hands down her torso, presumably smoothing out wrinkles in her white, button down, uniform dress shirt. I didn’t see any wrinkles in the fabric, but there were plenty of other things I couldn’t keep my eyes off of.

Her perky tits with their perfect cherry nipples were so clearly outlined that it made my hands itch, and my cock twitch.I wouldn’t be standing up for any lectures today. Fuck my life.

I’d been dodging jailbait without effort for years, but Y/n Jeon was a special sort of challenge. My own personal hell, if I was honest.

She’d turned eighteen a few months ago. I knew that because she’d had the unmitigated gall to tell me she was legal the exact day it happened.

A day hadn’t gone by since where that knowledge hadn’t tormented me.

She was a shameless, dauntless tease.

Y/N

Mr. Kim didn’t fuck students. Everybody knew it because every girl in school was at least a little bit in love with him. Including me. He was perfect, and I’d been obsessed with him since I first laid eyes on him in 9th grade. I was a senior and eighteen now, and the obsession hadn’t gone anywhere. Just the opposite. It had grown out of proportion until it felt too big for me to handle.

I was to the point where I didn’t want to handle it. I’d been saving myself, but not anymore. I was ready.

I wanted Mr. Kim to have his way with me, whatever, however, wherever he wanted.

I shifted in my seat restlessly, drawing his eyes to my bare legs under my desk. He tried to be good, I knew he did, but it was getting harder for him. He couldn’t hide the heat in his eyes as they lingered on my bare, untouched flesh briefly before he tore them away.I loved it when he looked at me like that. I loved it when he looked at me, period.

He was a big man, a former college football player that doubled as one of the high school coaches during football season.

Big and gorgeous.

His voice when he lectured was cold and stern, but his eyes were warm and intense with an interest he thought he hid better than he did. But I could read him better than most because I had been paying very close attention. I didn’t have a choice. I could never take my eyes off him.

He was perfect; a large, fit man with broad shoulders, messy brown hair and a warm, irresistible boxy smile. His face was handsome, with even features, melting chocolate brown eyes, and dominated by a jawline so defined it made me wet.

He even dressed the part of my perfect teacher daydream, wearing pristine white dress shirts and well-tailored slacks.

On some lucky days—today being one of them—he even went the extra mile with conservative wool blazers and perfectly folded ties. He looked like a studious professor, head to toe. No one could look at him and not crave his approval. Or maybe that was just me.

I wanted his approval. But above all, I wanted his attention.

I wanted to have all of his overwhelming masculine intensity focused only on me.

He started going over the day’s lesson without standing up from his desk, his voice monotone, his eyes aimed down. This was unusual for him. Usually he moved when he taught. He paced, he spoke directly to students, he engaged.

Not today. Today he barely looked up. Instead he read directly from a textbook. He was phoning it in today, which I’d never seen him do.

He was more distant than usual. He was barely present, which was out of character. His expression was perfectly composed. That was perfectly on brand for him.

He looked like a man who had never been ruffled by anything. I wanted to ruffle him. I wanted to affect him in any way at all.

I almost reached for my phone and barely stopped myself. Mr. Kim was very strict about us putting our phones away after the bell rang, and though I did want to get his attention, I didn’t want to displease him.It took all of my self-control, but I managed to wait to check my phone after the period was over and I’d left his classroom.

“Have a nice day, Mr. Kim,” I told him quietly as I walked by his desk.

He didn’t look up at me, but his shoulder twitched in a small movement that spoke of tension, and I knew he noticed me. “Goodbye, Miss jeon,” he returned, his voice dismissive.

As soon as I was out of his sight, I pulled out my phone, eyes scanning over the text conversation that dominated my thoughts, desperate to see if I’d gotten a response from the object of my obsession.

I want you to be my first.

Mr. Kim: I think you have the wrong number.

No. I’m definitely talking to you, Taehyung.

I’ve never been fucked,

and I want my first time to be with you.

Mr. Kim: Who is this?

My heart raced as I typed in my response.

Me: Guess

Mr. Kim: I’m not playing this game.

I went outside to escape the chaos of the bustling hallway and found a quiet spot to go through my phone. I didn’t let nerves stop me as I found just the right picture and pressed send.

I knew I needed to act fast. I didn’t have time for delays anymore. It was now or never. I wouldn’t even have a phone in a matter of weeks, and I’d fantasized about this for years, so I had to take my shot.

Me: Let me show you.

TAEHYUNG

I nearly dropped my phone when I saw the picture that flashed across the closed screen and just managed to hide it in my pocket instead, keeping my eyes trained straight ahead.It didn’t matter. The image I’d barely glimpsed was burned into my memory.

Mrs. Choi, the principal, droned on without a break in her week’s agenda. I glanced around at the attendees of the routine faculty meeting.

Not everyone was paying attention, but no one seemed to notice my reaction to what I’d seen on my phone, thank God. I closed my eyes, rubbing at my temples.

That made it worse. My mystery texter had done a number on my brain.

I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d seen.

It had been a lot of skin.

Fuck. Who was it? My mind flashed to Y/n Jeon, but I didn’t know if it was because that’s how I pictured her naked, or because it was actually her.

Fuck. Did I want it to be her?

Some part of me clearly did, and I was not okay with that.

I’d always had contempt for the teachers that got off on bagging students. To take advantage of a young girl (even if she was legal) like that was reprehensible to me.

But I didn’t want to take advantage of Y/n. I wanted to take care of her. In every way.

Fuck. This line of thought would lead to my personal and professional ruin, and still I couldn’t get it out of my head.

It felt like it took forever before I could leave. It was only after I’d gotten into my car, driven a good five miles, and then pulled over into a near-empty parking lot before I pulled my phone out again and looked at the picture.

Getting nudes was hardly an anomaly so I could only figure it was the conversation and my own errant thoughts that had my heart pounding as I looked at my phone.

The picture got right to point, cropped to show me her body from shoulders to thighs. Every inch of it was perfect.

She was naked and had round, perky, natural breasts that were big enough to overfill my large hands. Her skin was golden and even-toned everywhere.

My mystery virgin was showing me plenty, but none of it was identifying her for sure. I couldn’t even tell her hair color. Her sex was shaved, her legs parted just enough to show me.But one thing I did clock right away; it certainly didn’t rule out Y/n.

I told myself I didn’t want it to be her.

Only one of my heads agreed with that. I was hard as a rock, and looking at that gorgeous body only had me picturing one face to match it.

Me: You don’t look like a virgin.

I immediately regretted sending the text, but even so, I watched for her response.

I’d be happy to show you in person.

Me: This isn’t funny.

       Tell me who you are.

She didn’t bother to respond to that. I put my phone away and tried to forget the whole thing.