Free Schooled by Deena Bright Page B

been this turned on and frustrated; you’re killing me. I feel like I’m 14 years old again.” He splashed water on his face and rubbed his wet hands over his face and head. I laughed. He was so freaking hot. “God, I want you,” he whined.
    I uncrossed my legs. He stared transfixed at the area between my thighs. I placed one foot up on the wall, the other on his chest. He took my foot in his hand, rubbing my foot. The sensation was erotic. His hands were wet, easily gliding over my feet. I freed my foot from his embrace and hooked my leg over his shoulder. I pulled him closer to me. Briggs growled, knowing where I wanted him and what I wanted from him. He took my leg off of his shoulder and placed it on the edge of the tub. Both of my legs were spread on the ledges of the tub. He looked up at me, licked his lips and smiled. Slowly he moved in closer to my vagina. He put his hands on the insides of my thighs, bracing them against the tub, restraining me from movement. My voice caught; I gasped.
    Suddenly, his tongue was buried in my vagina and his hands were squeezing and massaging the flesh of my thighs. “Easy, nice and slow,” I purred. He licked me slowly and penetrated me with his tongue, then licked me from my hole to my clit, missing it, and moving back down again. He glanced up at me and winked. I groaned. Cocky bastard . Licking his way back up, he finally stopped directly on my clit. Using light circular motions, he flicked his tongue around and over my clit, quickly, rhythmically. God, it was good. I began rocking my hips against his mouth, but his hands restrained my movement. He used one finger, inserting it into my vagina, moving it in and out, fucking me with his fingers. His tongue continued to lick my clit. “Briggs, oh…oh…I’m gonna come.” I was panting with desire.
    He licked me, whispered, “Oh Janelle,” before sucking my clit into his mouth. I grabbed his head and ground my mound against his mouth, exploding in a powerful orgasm, my legs tensing and tightening under his hands. I smiled, totally satiated. I noticed he was breathing hard too. I looked at him, skeptically and angrily.
    “Briggs Alexander, what did you do?” I accused him.
    “Hell, what was I supposed to do?” he said, lying back in the tub. “You’re so sexy, the jets were shooting water straight at my ass, and I was kinda sitting on my heels, a little movement was all it took.” He didn’t look embarrassed or guilty. He looked happy and even proud.
    I laughed, kicking water at him. He grabbed me and pulled me into the water. He kissed me. I welcomed the kiss. I’d never tasted myself on a man’s lips before. It was sexy and exhilarating. I felt… shit. I felt my heart flutter. No, not flutter. It was nice to feel wanted. That’s it. My heart certainly wasn’t into this.
    ******
    Briggs and I were soaking, snuggling in the tub, which I felt was out of his character and surely not something that I would have predicted. “So thanks for that apple, cute touch.” I said, giving him the props for creativity.
    He laughed, “You deserve it, Teach.” I couldn’t believe he’d brought me Starbucks (oooh, I hadn’t even sipped any yet) and an apple. Briggs was a lot more thoughtful than I ever considered before. Maybe even a little witty.
    “Why do you think apples are associated with teachers?” I wondered. He looked at me, confused. I clarified my question, “Like, I mean, do you think it’s like the whole forbidden fruit, Garden of Eden thing? Are teacher-student relationships so forbidden that people need to remind the teacher of its sinfulness, using an apple as its symbolism?” What was I even talking about? Why was I trying to engage Briggs in a conversation about symbolism? I must’ve been trying to remind myself that this was just about sexual pleasure, not intellectual or emotional connections. Something? Right?
    I couldn’t gauge the look on his face. I had no idea what he was thinking, but I