“....Isn’t that...... the new transfer student? What’s his name....Layne?”
The drummer starts hitting his snare drum and high hat...bum TAT bum TAT....and the singer, Layne, grabs the mic stand and starts talking over the intro to the song.
“Who here likes Nine Inch Nails?” He leans forward, hand cupped behind his ear as the hyped up crowd in front of him screams. “Well unfortunately they couldn’t be here tonight but we are Eight Inch Screws...!”
I watch as he seductively slides a hand down the mic stand and up his chest and starts singing...
"You let me violate you
You let me desecrate you
You let me penetrate you
You let me complicate you...”
Janey leans her mouth closer to my ear so I can hear her. “Do you think we should tell the club they are letting an 18 year old perform here?” I shake my head with a smile.
“It’s on them if they don’t check people’s ID properly.” Janey chuckles, and drains the rest of her drink, motioning that she’s going to get another from the bar.
I return my attention to the stage, where the singer is crouched down at the front of the stage holding onto some girls chin and singing about wanting ‘to feel her from the inside’. I embarrassingly feel myself start to get a bit turned on watching him strut and thrust around the stage, helped by the fact that he’s belting out the lyrics of my favorite band. Janey had wandered back to her seat with a large glass of wine for herself and another glass of coke for me. The club starts playing its usual mix of music, and I nod my head slightly in time to the beat of White Zombie.
“They were pretty good actually. Maybe I won’t tell on them.” Janey giggles into her glass. “I don’t recognize any of the others from school, so maybe it’s just little Laynie up front who is underage. Do you have him in any of your classes?” I shake my head. I teach AP English and creative writing. “He’s in my AP Chemistry class, I figured he would be in all the advanced classes.”
“Nope, obviously not gifted with words just boring science.” I tease. Janey sticks her tongue out at me, and I return it in kind. “I’m gonna hit the restroom before we leave, ’kay.” She nods, getting her phone out to order a taxi.
I stumble through the crowd of grinding sweaty bodies to the ladies room, which was to the right of the stage. The heavy bass from the clubs sound system was still loud in here so it wasn’t until I sat down on the toilet that I heard the unmistakable sound of people in the cubicle next to me. There are only two cubicles in here, one of which was a large disabled size one. It is the one people usually use to hook up in because who in their right mind would wanna get down and dirty in the mens room right? At some point the toilet roll dispenser in my cubicle had been ripped of the wall leaving a tennis ball sized hole in the wall that ran between the two cubicles. I lean forward slightly and peer through it at the sound of a girl moaning.
Leaning up with her back against the tiled wall was a punky-looking girl, head flung back, one hand clutching her breast through her top. Her skirt is hitched up around her waist and her left leg is hooked over the shoulder of the guy who was on his knees in front of her, his face buried in her crotch. She moans again, grinding herself into him, pressing her hand on the back of his head. I notice his right arm moving, and as he shifts position slightly I realize he’s slowly running his hand up and down his length. I feel myself get flushed, and press my legs together as my clit starts to throb.
“Rosa? Taxi is here, get your ass out here babe!” Janey shouts through the restroom door. I quickly flush the toilet and walk over to the sinks. Behind me the cubicle door opens and the singer from the band walks out. He meets my eyes in the mirror and smirks, wiping his lips with his finger and thumb.
I slide into bed next to Bryan’s snoring body and try to sleep. Every time I close my eyes I can see the couple in the bathroom. I can feel myself getting moist, uncomfortable with want. It’s been months since Bryan and I had been intimate. Not that he wasn’t affectionate. He was always hugging me and kissing me, but it never got heated anymore. I kind of missed the early days of our relationship when we were making love two or three times a day. It sometimes now felt like we were just roommates rather than a married couple.
After an hour of trying to get comfortable, I give up and tiptoe downstairs, making myself comfortable on the sofa. Opening up the Instagram app on my phone I go to the page of the Met Lounge, knowing they would have posted photos from tonight. I scroll through until I find one of the Eight Inch Screws. I click on the picture and smile slightly when I see that he’s tagged in it. I click on his name and am taken to his personal page. Layne Stanley. Or PLayneStan as he has called himself on here.
I scroll through the photos until I get to one of him stood in front of a mirror wearing an open black hoodie, his chest exposed. The hood is pulled up, his messy brown hair is falling over on eye, nearly down to his cheek bone. He’s got a wide mouth, full lips slightly opened. His large green eyes are roughly smudged in black eyeliner making them appear bigger, a teasing look to them. I can see a trace of stubble on his chin. My eyes drift down over his chest, which is toned but not what you would call muscly, down to the v-line which tantalizingly cuts off at the bottom of the photo. My hand slips under the waist band of my pajama shorts, and down to my wet core. I remember the small glimpse of his cock I’d gotten when he’d shifted his legs earlier in the bathroom, and plunge my fingers repeatedly inside as deep as I can, imagining him inside me. I keep my eyes trained to the photo for as long as I can until I feel the orgasm pulse through my body.
I lie on the sofa for a moment catching my breath. What am I doing? He’s a student. Well not one of my students really.... No, no! He’s a student. I shouldn’t be fantasizing over him.
I go to the bathroom and wash my hands before going back up to bed. I slide back in behind Bryan, who rolls over and sleepily presses his lips to my forehead.
“Happy birthday baba. Sorry about earlier. Hope you had a good night with Janey.”
“Yeah, it was ok thanks. Missed you though.” He pulls me closer, wrapping his arms round my waist and kissing my forehead again.
“Mmmm.....missed you too.” His words muffled against my skin.
His breathing slows as he falls asleep again, and I twist out of his arms so I can roll onto my stomach. As I tuck my arms under my head my mind once again wanders to the cute teenager I’d watched tonight, and again my insides clench slightly.
Stupid silly little crush.
“Good morning class.” I stand at the front of my classroom and smile at the students in front of me. “I hope you all had a good weekend, but also found enough time to finish your essays dissecting your chosen poems...” There is a knock on the door which interrupts me. The Vice Principle, Mr Dunstil, opens it and steps inside.
“Sorry Mrs Maddox, but you’ve got a new student joining you. Our new transfer student was in AP English at his old school but we only got his full transcript this morning.”
“O..Ok. Not a problem.” I smile.
Mr Dunstil steps back and I realize the student stood behind him is Layne. He lifts his scowling gaze from the floor and looks me up and down. His eyes widen when he realizes where he’s seen me before. I think his face goes as red as mine goes white. Mr Dunstil clears his throat.
“Mrs Maddox this is Layne Stanley.” He closes the door behind himself.
We stare at each other until I realize I’m stood in front of a class of children.
“Ahem...nice to meet you, Layne. Take a seat in any of the empty spots and I’ll bring over the assignments in a sec.” I try to smile. He smirks slightly, recovering himself quicker than me, and takes a seat near the back of the room, stretching his long legs out under the table, crossing them at the ankle. “Ok then class, back to poetry....”
I sit at my desk trying not to stare at Layne as he hunches over his work at the back of the classroom.
“Miss? Miss!” I look over at the student trying to get my attention.
“Do you think you could please read this paragraph, I’m not sure I’ve written enough.” I smile at the blonde bespectacled boy and push myself out of my chair. As I walk over to him, I smooth my skirt down over my hips. I was a fan of Betty Page hence the short black bangs and red lipstick that had been my staple look since I was a teen, and usually wore pencil skirts and 40′s style tops to work. Today was no exception. I had on my favorite high waisted black pinstripe skirt which clung to my curvy hips and stopped a couple inches below my knees, my legs were clad in seamed stockings and black Mary Jane’s. I’d teamed it with a cream blouse which hung down a little when I bent forward. Which I’d forgotten until I lent over Gavin’s desk. At the sound of a soft groan and a shuffle, I flicked my eyes up at the boy sitting behind him. Layne. His eyes were trained to my chest. Or more specifically down my blouse. He slowly licked his lower lip, capturing it between his teeth, and looked me in the eye, raising his eyebrows slightly. Without thinking about it I wink. His cheeks flush slightly, and I stand up straight again.
“It looks good, Gavin.” I pat him on the shoulder, turning and walking back to the front of the classroom. “Ok class, keep working on your essay’s this week, and I’ll have them back from you next Monday.” The bell chimes, and my students all start clearing their desks. I say goodbye to them as they walk past me. Layne walks up to me, and allows his gaze to slowly drop down my body and back up to my face.
“Think I’m gonna like AP English.” He grins, hiking his back pack higher on his shoulder. I feel my cheeks redden again, and I nervously bite on my bottom lip. He leans towards me and my heart pounds in my chest. He smells amazing, a mix of musk and smoke. “I always had a thing for Betty Page.” He says in a low voice, winking before he walks away.
I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.