Page 31 of Teacher of the Year

“Hey.”

His breath, warm and sweet, gives me a jolt of confidence. We stand there dangerously close, and for once in my life, I don’t overthink the situation. Instead, I blurt, “Do you still feel like that kiss?”

“Marvin, I’m not leaving your apartment until you kiss me.”

His gaze falls to my lips and his pupils dilate, an electric tension quivering between us. He extends a hand to my face, my breath hitching from his touch. I close my eyes as his thumb traces my jaw to my chin and north to my lower lip, and what the fuck is happening? My heart, already racing, revs to overdrive, and I take it as a sign to move forward, closing the small gap between us. My lips graze his cheek, and finally having them on his skin, the urge to lick him from head to toe surges in my core. He carefully turns, our mouths meet, and it takes every ounce of restraint to pace myself. At first, he’s slow, cautious, and curious. A gentle brushing of his lips on mine. But as space and time disappear, I can feel Olan relax and press himself into me simultaneously. There’s an urgency and eagerness to him now. Our mouths coming together opens a new gateway between us and sends a shockwave through my entire body.

And his lips. His fucking magnificent lips. Plump and soft and coated with cherry ChapStick making me want to nibble every bit of them. He cups my face with his hands, leaving one on my cheek and sliding the other up to my hair. His fingers become entwined in curls, and his hand moves with conviction. Holding my face and my hair as our mouths take these first steps together makes me feel so damn cherished, I’m not sure I can bear it. I move my hands toward his head and rest them on the back of his neck, just below his hairline.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Absolutely,” he mutters into my mouth.

My hands begin returning the motions he’s made in my own hair, becoming entwined in his soft coils. He lets out gentle moans and whispers. They’re low, and I’m not positive, but I think he whimpers, “Fuck,” which sends a jolt of blood right to my groin. I want to keep exploring and get lost in him. All of him.

Rationally, I know the kissing must stop eventually, but I don’t want it to. I stopped searching, hoping for this feeling of connection, and now, our lips locked and his tongue beginning to explore my mouth, I feel brainless for thinking I didn’t want this.

Olan’s kiss secures me: warm and wet, steady and sound, and everything a kiss should be. I’m sure the kissing will come to an end, but it doesn’t. His hands have migrated, one on the small of my back and the other on my neck. He massages my back with his hand, forcing my body to succumb. My hands still entangle his hair, thick and springy to my touch, and I use it to pull him closer. We kiss like horny teenagers in the back seat of a car, and his energy radiates. My entire body flushes. The continued stirring in my groin becomes palpable. Our hips rest against each other, and Olan Stone resembles, well, an actual stone. Down there. He presses against me, and my excitement becomes more evident against his. Overcome by the moment and needing a breather, I pull away.

“What are you doing?” I murmur.

“I’m kissing you.”

“Oh.”

With that, his lips move on mine again, and this time, I clutch him, and I don’t care if the stiffness in our pants creates more friction. Grinding his stiff cock against mine through our pants tosses gasoline onto the fire raging in our mouths. He bends to kiss my neck and begins to move toward my earlobe, and heaven help me, he takes it in his mouth, sucking it gently at first, exploring my ear, and honestly, I’m unsure if I can remain upright. The sensitive nerves in my ear and neck explode with bliss. For a fleeting moment, my body forgets to be anxious. There’s no music. No singing. Only Olan’s hot, damp breath in my ear, deep and forceful. I’m so fucking aroused, lustful noises rampantly escape my mouth. Olan replies with a deep moan as his teeth bite at my ear.

“Holy crap,” I whisper.

How did I fail to notice this fervor in him?

“Mmmh. Good, Mr. Block?” he growls into my ear, and my insides simmer over.

He thrusts his midsection on me in a way that’s making it harder to keep this to a neck-up-only activity. The kissing, the biting, and the licking need to be enough. For now. The man hasn’t even bought me dinner. Keep it in your pants, Marvin. But my dick disagrees and strains against my briefs and pants. He keeps going back and forth between my ear, neck, and lips, and I’m not sure I can take it anymore. I can feel the precum on my underwear from the grinding, and my dick aches from the pressure. More noises escape my mouth, and I struggle to stay silent because I don’t want to appear foolish. Right now, words feel unnecessary, but because I’m me, I speak anyway.

“Should we… couch?” I whisper and attempt to nod toward it as he mouths my neck in a manner I truly hope doesn’t leave a mark. He’s seemingly in a trance, as my words interrupt and startle him, snapping him back to reality.

“I, I should probably go.” His face pulls away, but our arms stay jumbled, so his lips are still only inches from mine. The rational part of my brain takes over.

“You definitely should.”

Olan is a parent of a student in my class. Until about fifteen minutes ago, I was certain Olan was straight. If he’s not straight, then what? Bisexual? Something else? Does it matter?

Because we never moved from the front door, Olan simply detangles himself from my limbs and turns to leave. I take a single step toward the door to see him out, and he turns and kisses me one more time, quick and earnest, and I’m desperate for him to stay.

“I’ll text you. Please don’t be anxious about this.”

Laughing, I say, “I’ll try.”

The door closes. I shut my eyes and take deep breaths. My heart thumps with such ferocity my entire chest is heaving. What in heaven and earth just happened? I close my eyes, and immediately a bass slaps, strings swell, and a sultry rhythm guitar welcomes Luther Vandross’ silky voice as he begins to sing the first lines of his sultry classic “Never Too Much.” My head sways with the music and Luther. Ah, Luther. My body shudders with pleasure at his voice combined with the lingering taste of Olan on my buzzing lips.

I finally open my eyes and Gonzo, perched on the counter, stares at me with a judging glare only he can get away with.

“Listen, buddy, maybe if you weren’t neutered, you’d understand.”

He stretches, yawns, and heads toward his food bowl.

Chapter13

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