Keeping it

Brett

The moment Misha had run into my class that Monday morning all sweaty, with her breast plastered to her shirt, I wanted her. I had wanted her so bad I knew I wasn’t going to stop until I got her. I might be somewhat rebellious, but never irresponsible. Then Misha had come along and dealt thoroughly with my self-control and dignity as a teacher. I had lost my sanity.

The past few days had been very unbearable for me. I craved for Misha every damn day, but I needed to keep to my word. I was ruining her.

I made sure to lock my office door because I knew that once she was able to walk through that door, I wouldn’t be able to resist her. She had come earlier this morning to see me. She was more desperate this time than she has ever been, but I ignored her. It hurts so badly, but I was doing this for her. She needed to move on and forget about me.

It was school over and she was banging on my door again.

“Brett, please open up,” she begged. “We need to talk.”

I sat down, listening to