Thread: Cat and Mouse [SilverScar & sharpiie love]

Mister Matthew Goodman. Never once had the students had a teacher who introduced themselves in such a way. They had professors who demanded to be called such, doctors who wanted their title used, and every once in a while a few teachers who thought they would be cool and tell the students to use their first names would introduce themselves as Jack or Cy. Never had a teacher introduced himself as with both their first and last names. Almost as though he were allowing the students to use either of his names. Seventeen year old Daveigh Spencer was intrigued. Nearly as intrigued as she was with their assignment. He wanted them to write something. Anything. He didn't care what, he just wanted to know how they wrote. Smiling softly to herself she doubted that he wanted to read anything she wanted to write to him at the moment, her mind short circuiting as she watched him move around, his muscles bunching under his clothes as he moved. But maybe she could get his attention without actually writing out that he was hot. Maybe she could think of a story or... the description of her favorite food. She would write to him to describe her favorite food. She would just make sure she wrote it to the best of her ability. She waited to see if anyone was going to have a question and then took out a pen and began writing. A buzz sounds in the air and a shiver races up my spine. I haven't been this excited in years. My muscles bunch in anticipation as I move towards the door and open it, heat rushes through my body as I see what lays just past the door. Never have I been moments away from having something so meltingly delicious in my mouth. Only moments from now. I'm counting every second as it moves closer to my body. And then I have it. I'm never letting go. I've found that the best way to enjoy this particular delicacy is while it's hot. Still fresh and able to melt the moment it touches my tongue. It's considered better than sex by many, though others say anyone who says that has never had very good sex. I must be in the former group of those who haven't had very good sex because I will tell you now that when my fork plunges completely into the most center only to pull back out and give me a taste of what's inside, I can't imagine sex ever being better. Slowly, ever so gently, I bring the fork to my lips already so swollen from my teeth. As I close my lips over the fork, my tongue ghosts across the texture. Soft and hot. The taste sweet and yet bitter. Not unlike what sex tastes like. My eyes close in ecstasy and a soft moan vibrates across my vocal chords. In seventeen years never has a man tasted as good as a piece of warm raspberry chocolate cake. Though if you find one, make sure to send him my way. I would love to compare the two. After finishing up her essay she signed her name at the top and stood up, her heels clicking softly on the floor as she made her way up to his desk. There was still some time before class let out so she smiled, innocent and the very opposite at the same time. Here you go, sir, she said, her voice a mere whisper. I hope you enjoy reading it. I'd love to know what you think of it. And then she turned around and walked back to her seat. She knew when to stop before one looked desperate, and she knew just how far to go to make the other person think she was interested. She'd just never had the chance to test it out on a teacher.