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Authors: Trista Russell

Fly on the Wall (27 page)

BOOK: Fly on the Wall
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The next day, I told her all about the money, and she didn't seem to mind where it was from, just as long as we were going to be together and away from the norm.
The week dragged by like it was on a snail's back. Friday final arrived, and after the last bell, I sat in a restaurant down the street from the school until she returned with the rental car.
On US-1 southbound, away from everyone we knew, she said that she felt like screaming, and she did. We both turned into two blissful kids just looking to have a good time . . . together.
We checked into our suite at the Hilton Resort and Marina around 8
P.M.
It was massive; a dining room table set for eight, a full living room with a sofa, coffee table, and loveseat. The bathroom was equipped with a stand-alone shower and a Jacuzzi on the other side. My favorite room, however, was the bedroom. Coming out of the wall over the bed was a bamboo frame covered in beige sheers. The sheers encased the bed romantically.
We showered and were in a restaurant called Six by ten o'clock. It was a very nice place, crisp white linen tablecloths, beautiful live flowers, and candlelight. Paige was all smiles as the waiter left to get our drinks.
“I guess this is our first date.”
“It is.” Then I flirted, “Do you kiss on the first date?”
She blushed. “No, I'm not that kind of girl.”
I reached under the table and ran my hand up her thigh. “What kind of girl are you?”
She smacked my hand. “Not that kind either.” She proceeded to tell me that she was a respectable girl who would never dream of giving out more than a handshake on the night of a first date. Suddenly, her face lit up. “Let's play around.”
“Play around how?”
“Role play,” she said. “Let's be strangers tonight. Let's pretend that the restaurant was full and I, hungry and just wanting a seat anywhere, asked the waiter to ask you if you'd mind sharing a table.”
I thought she had lost her mind. “Are you serious?” I guess she was, because when she spoke again, she was someone else.
“Thank you for allowing me to join you. I just couldn't wait a minute more to get something into my stomach.” She reached her hand out to me across the table. “My name is Paige.”
I giggled. “Nice to meet you, Paige.” I couldn't believe we were going to do this. “I'm Theodore.” I always used my full name when I wanted to give off a little sophistication.
“I won't bother you with conversation.” She grabbed her menu and scanned it.
“Actually, conversation is just what I was hoping for tonight.” I smiled.
We role-played throughout dinner, treating each other like strangers, yet we flirted just enough to let the other know that an after-dinner rendezvous was possible. Boy, was it possible.
A little after midnight, we were strolling down Key West's tiny cobblestone streets, the ocean breeze rustled past us, and we were still locked into our game of pretending to be foreign.
“So, what hotel are you staying at?” I asked.
“Um.” She faked a struggle to remember. “I think the Hilton, or is it the Hyatt or the Hampton?” Paige giggled. “Something that starts with an H. I'll know it when I see it.”
“I can't have you roaming around all alone not knowing where you're going.”
“No, no, you've done enough for the night, picking up the check and all. You don't have to walk me there,” she insisted. “I'll be fine. Thank you for the kind gesture, though.”
“It's not a problem.” I thought of something quickly. “My hotel is in the same direction.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“You know what? I just remembered my hotel is this way.” She made a quick right into an alley. “So, we're not going in the same direction.” She waved me off as if to get rid of me. “Nice meeting you.”
“Nice meeting you too.” I stared at her as she walked down the dimly lit path. The red rayon skirt continuously slapped the back of her thighs. Watching her hips switch back and forth was like looking at a tennis match; you had to follow the bouncin' ball. Her high-heeled sandals raised her up, seemingly right to where she needed to be for me to just grab her and ram into her from the back.
I wanted her badly and was in a rush to get back to the room. “Paige,” I called out to her as she was about to disappear into the darkness, but she didn't look back, so I followed her. “Paige.” I ran to catch up with her.
“What are you doing?” She looked back at me like she was afraid and began walking faster. When I didn't answer, the look of pure horror took over her face. “Are you following me?”
She was still playing the game. Though I wanted to hurry up and get her in the Jacuzzi where our wet bodies could slip and slide into each other, this would do. “I paid for your dinner.”
“And?” She began trotting.
“And now I want what I
really
paid for.”
She made a left, thinking she'd escape me behind a dark building, but it was a dead-end with no lights. “Please,” she panted. “I can pay you for my portion of the check.” She fought to open up her purse, but when I reached her, she held it out to me instead. “Take it. I have money, credit cards, and jewelry in there. Just take it.”
I grabbed the purse and threw it to the ground. “Thanks, but that's not what I want.” I slowly backed her into the wall.
“Please.” She looked frightened for real. “Please don't do this to me.”
“If you stay quiet, I won't hurt you.” When I lifted her skirt, my hand fell into her wet fold. “I won't hurt you.” I loved the way she felt. “Just let me put my finger in it.”
“Please.” She shivered and it looked like she wanted to cry. “I, I won't report you to the police. Just take the money.”
“I don't want the money.” I tightened my grip on her hand. “Shh.” I roughly kissed her lips. “Open up your legs a little bit more.” She did. I rubbed her bottom and wanted to see just how long she could pretend not to want me. “You came out without any panties. You were looking for this.” I allowed one finger to ease its way into her. “You like that?”
“Please.” Her tone was slowly changing. “Please stop.”
“Not before I give you something else.”
She squirmed and moaned a little. “You said that you just wanted to put your finger in it,” she cried. “You did, so let me go.”
“I am going to finger you.” I undid my belt buckle with my free hand. “I'm going to finger you with my biggest finger.” I laughed as I pulled my pants down. “What kind of woman runs around without panties?” I got harsh with her. “Sounds like you're looking for trouble, so I'll give you what you came for.”
“Please,” she whimpered. “Don't do—”
“Shut up.” I launched my finger deeper into her and the look of enjoyment was written all over her face, but she tried to keep the act going.
“Please stop. Stop now and I won't tell the police.”
I brought her hand down to my weapon and made her stroke it. My dick was hard enough to backhand somebody if I turned around quickly. I pulled my finger from her and rubbed her fleshiest part.
“I'll scream if you keep doing that,” she groaned.
“Go ahead and scream.” The sound my fingers made on her wet flesh drove me crazy. “I'll give you something to scream for.” I lifted her up, fixed her legs around my waist, backed her into the filthy wall of the old museum, and pushed myself up into her. “Scream, Paige. Let me hear you scream rape.” Her juices welcomed me. “Yell for the muthafuckin' cops.” Her hands clinched me around my neck. “Don't hold onto me. You're supposed to be trying to get away.” I pounded her again and again, and suddenly she was giving me that pussy like she was raping
me
. “I knew you wanted this dick.”
 
 
The next night, our last night in Key West, we went to a club called Locos. I slipped the doorman a fifty-dollar bill to pretend that he looked at my ID when he looked at hers. He passed me a smile and allowed us in. I had tried the same stunt at two other places and failed miserably. I guess this guy had mouths to feed, thank God.
The atmosphere in the club was very relaxed, and as with most establishments in Key West, everything was open. The club had a roof but no real walls, just three or four long, horizontal pieces of wood separating us from the people on the sidewalk.
After about three shots of tequila each, Paige and I were on the dance floor. She was a raging bull and my lips were the red flag that provoked her. She couldn't stay away from them. We were dancing to a fast song, but to our own slow beat. I pulled her into me and kissed her so passionately that it felt as though I pulled her soul out and right into mine.
There were people talking, dancing, and bumping into us. We ignored them all until one voice just wouldn't go away. “Theodore Lakewood, is that you?” The voice was about 250 miles south of where it was supposed to be. I opened my eyes and stared into the round, pink face of Principal Michael Courtland, whose jaws nearly hit the floor when the woman I was kissing turned to see who had called her lover's name.
He smiled. “Oh, and Ms. Patrick.” He cleared his throat. “What a pleasant surprise.”
~Situation #17~
Paige
“M
r.—” The innocent facial expression I thought of issuing ran away. “I mean Principal Courtland.” I didn't know what to say, how to say it, and most of all, I didn't know what he would have to say. I gasped. “What brings you here?”
He looked at me strangely and continued sarcastically. “Well, I heard that you could see everything down here.” He glared at Theo. “I guess they were right, huh?”
Theo hesitated a bit before answering. “Depends on what you're looking for.”
The music stopped and the uncomfortable silence between the three of us filled the air as the DJ gave birthday shout-outs to people in the crowd. We stared at one another until not saying anything meant that someone was on the verge of saying something dumb.
“Okay.” Mr. Courtland disturbed the peace. “Ms. Patrick, may I speak with you alone?” He pointed toward the sidewalk. “Outside?”
Theo saw the uneasiness on my face. “What's to say that I can't hear?” he asked.
“Mr. Lakewood,” Courtland shot Theo a shut-the-hell-up look, “this is an official Miami-Dade County Public School matter.”
“Whatever, man,” Theo interjected. “There's nothing you—”
“Theo, I'll be right back.” I patted his chest. “It'll just take a minute.” I smiled.
Mr. Courtland was already making his way toward the sidewalk. I didn't know how I was going to defend myself. Surely he wasn't blind. He saw us. He saw
us
.
“Well, Ms. Patrick,” he paused, “I'm quite surprised at you.” His smirk said just how much he was going to enjoy this. “You, of all people, the upholder of every rule, the angel amongst the faculty.” He went on. “I wish I could just pretend that I didn't see what I saw, but doing that would mean breaking the rules.” He looked away but quickly found me again. “This will
have
to be brought before the school board officers.”
“Mr. Courtland,” I tried to reason with him, “school will be out in a few months and Theo will be a graduate. Can't we just be adults about this?”
“Be adults?” he asked. “You're here lip-locking with a child, Ms. Patrick. So, I ask you, who is it that isn't acting like an adult?”
“He's not a child,” I defended him and hoped to make a difference. “He's eighteen years old.”
“Eighteen, nineteen, or twenty,” Mr. Courtland stated loudly, “he's still a student at West Dade.” He was agitated. “Ms. Patrick, you know the policies.” He continued sarcastically. “After all, you defended them so well when you complained to the school board about how I wasn't following a few of them.”
“That was a different situation, Mr. Courtland. Most of the things I brought up were safety concerns.”
“Yeah, well, so is this.” He chuckled derisively. “Most parents won't feel safe with a teacher like you in the school.”
Immediately, the urge to spit in his face became overwhelming. I didn't do it, but I probably should've, because either way, I wouldn't have a job come Monday. “This is not illegal, Mr. Courtland. Theo is not a minor.”
“He isn't a minor, but he is a student. He is your student, it is unethical, and you know that we don't stand for that.”
“You don't stand for anything.” I had had it with him, and also with trying to stay polite. “Take me to the school board, the superintendent. Take me to the fuckin' board of directors. Take me to the President of the goddamn United States.” I put my hands akimbo and let him have it. “I don't give a fuck what you do, what you say, or who you say it to.” My bluntness shocked me. “If I never set foot in West Dade again that'll be damn fine with me.”
He looked down at me with an antagonizing grin. “Don't take it personal.” They were the same words I used on him after the school board told him to shape up or ship out. He smiled and had the nerve to throw open his arms. “Since you're already here, join me and Mr. Bess for a cocktail later.” He continued smiling. “No hard feelings, huh?”
Mr. Bess. What the—? “You're here with Doran?”
“Yes, in search of a—”
“. . . a
gay
ole time, I presume.” I finished his sentence with words I'm sure he wouldn't have used. “That's interesting.”
“False accusations don't travel far.”
“Well, West Dade isn't that far.”
“I'm not doing anything illegal or against policy.” He smiled. “I'm simply hanging out with a comrade.”
“Does your wife know that your comrade is gay?” I finished. “Down low brothas are crossing the color lines, I see.”
He laughed. “Once again, you and your falsehoods.”
“Falsehood?” I returned his chuckle. “I had an encounter of the worst kind with Doran and his boyfriend, and if I remember correctly, his name wasn't Falsehood.” I turned and walked away.
“Sleep in on Monday, Ms. Patrick, because as of this moment, you are suspended. I will have a substitute in your classroom indefinitely, and the board will contact you regarding their decision about your return.”
I felt my body do a
Matrix Reloaded
turn to look back at him. “I don't need their decision.” The last thing I wanted was this foolishness spinning into a public forum to humiliate me and make me out to be a child-molesting teacher like Mary Kay Letourneau or Debra Lafave.
“I quit.” The words flew out of my mouth. “I'll deliver my resignation letter to you personally, and then you can let the goddamn board know what
my
decision is about returning.”
I walked back into the club and Theo was standing by the bar, without a drink, just a blank gaze. “Let's go,” I said and grabbed my purse and other things he had placed on the bar.
“What happened?”
I was pissed beyond the normal level. I had Mike Tyson's intensity. I wanted to bite somebody somewhere. “Let's just go.”
“Tell me what went down.” Theo tried holding my hand.
“Please . . .” I pulled away. “You won't understand, and even if you could, I don't feel like talking about it right now.” I rolled my eyes. “Let's go.”
He wasn't budging. “I wanna know what he said. I am involved in this fuckin' shit too.”
“Oh, it's fuckin' shit, huh?” I snapped. “Just how fuckin' involved are you in this, this
shit
?” I didn't give him room to answer. “Because I'm up to my hairline in this
shit
. I just had to quit my damn job just so that no one will find out about this, this relationship that you now call shit.”
“I didn't mean it like—”
“You know what you were saying.” I tried to keep my voice below the embarrassing raging-woman level. “You meant it just like fuckin' that.”
“No, I didn't.” He raised his voice and boy, did I not appreciate it that. “Stop jumping to conclusions. I wasn't even finished saying what I was saying.” He got even louder, and people started to look over at us. “Learn to listen some fuckin' time. You're not always right.”
“I'm done.” I could hardly breathe. “I am so fuckin' done with this right now.” With my belongings, I dashed out of the club and hailed a cab. I was humiliated because of the way Theo felt he could talk to me. Hurt because of the way Courtland tried to degrade me, and wanted to scream because I just had to, not wanted to or could afford to, I
had
to quit my job. When the cab ride was over, I rushed up to the hotel room and while weeping like I had scraped the skin off of both knees and elbows, I began packing my bags.
Courtland would probably see that I wouldn't get another teaching job within the tri-county area, so if I wanted to stay in the public school arena, I would probably have to move to Central Florida or teach at a private school. “Shit,” I said to myself while folding up my pants and tossing them into the suitcase.
I heard the door open and close, and then through the corner of my eyes I saw Theo's towering presence in the doorway. Pretending not to see him, I continued with my tears, pouting, and packing.
“Where are you going?” he asked, and I refused to answer. He walked over and snatched the shirt I was folding out of my hand. “Where are you going?”
I looked at him like I would anyone who was challenging me, and picked up the shirt to fold it again, but he tore it from my grasp once again.
“What is your problem, Theo?”
“You.” He threw the shirt across the room. “You are my problem, Paige.”
He wasn't doing or saying anything to make things any better. He twisted the knife in my back. I asked, “When and how did I become a problem to you?”
“When you won't let me be your man. You keep flipping the damn switch.” He was serious. “Sometimes I'm your student, your friend, or your boy, but for once let me be your fuckin' man without having to beg you.”
I started to speak. “I don't—”
“I'm talking.” He shut me up and continued. “I'm sick of you treating me like a boy, or like the lesser of the two of us, like I don't know anything.” He looked into my eyes. “You know what I meant down at the club, when I said that I was involved in the fuckin' shit. I was saying that we're a team. When you hurt, I fuckin' hurt. I was concerned. As your man, I wanted to know what happened, what was said, what the next step is.”
“That's it,” I barged in. “I don't know what the next step is.”
“That's okay. That's why we're together. We're supposed to figure these things out together.” He walked closer to me and slowly grabbed my hands. He took them up to his lips. “Allow me to be your man, Paige. I can do it.”
He was right. Many times I didn't discuss things with him because I just didn't expect him to “get it.” I dealt with problems alone that women normally shared with their mates. I figured that at eighteen years old he would never understand my “real world” situations. I hadn't allowed him to fully be my “man” outside of sex. I sheltered him from my world so that he wouldn't feel inferior, but I had succeeded in doing just that. I made him feel less of a man by being my man.
“I'll tell you what happened.” I walked out to the balcony and he followed. “I quit to avoid them firing me and dragging our names through the mud of the school system. If they suspend me, everything would have to be brought up, documented, and discussed by the board. I can't handle that.” I focused on the street four stories below and the water adjacent to it.
“I'm sorry, Paige.” His facial expression said that he really was. “You don't have to ever handle anything alone,” he promised.
I forced a chuckle. “That's easy for you to say. You don't have anything to lose.”
“I do.” He ran his hand down my back. “I stand to lose you, and losing you would mean losing me.”
I didn't allow his words to roll off of me. I let them melt, penetrate, and soak into my soul. “Thank you.” We leaned over the balcony railing with the whistling sea breeze in our faces and heard the occasional conversation of people passing beneath us at two in the morning. Theo was staring at me.
“I've never been so in love with anyone before.” He paused. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you to be my—”
“Don't.” I had to stop him. “Don't say something that you'll regret tomorrow.”
“See, that's what I mean.” He was frustrated. “Let me talk, let be a man, Paige.” He said sharply, “I know what I'm saying and what I'm doing.”
“Okay.” I brushed him off. “Talk.”
He changed his tone and the subject, and then stood up. “I'm controlling the rest of the night.”
“Why?” I had to know.
“No room or time for questions.” He continued. “Just be submissive to me.”
“Submissive?” It was already after two, so what harm could it be to let him have some fun until the sun came up? “Fine. The night is yours.”
“Great,” he said. “From this moment on, there will be no second-guessing me. Just do as I ask.” He smiled.
“Yes, master.” I bowed to him jokingly.
Still looking down at the drunkards staggering to their various hotels, and listening to the waves splash against the docks, Theo stood behind me. Within a few minutes, I felt a difference in his wand. It was now hard.
“Take off your clothes.”
“Out here?” I refused. “Are you insane?” I looked back to see him topless and stepping out of his bottoms. “Theo, what are you doing?”
“It's my night, remember?” He stroked his chocolate bar. “C'mon, let me see you.”
“Are you serious?” I asked. “People are still out, and if anyone is in those boats docked right there,” I pointed, “they can see us.”
“And?”
“And they can see us. Plus, if guests are in these rooms next to us, they can see us if they peep around that little wall.”
“So?”
“So put on your clothes.”
He sat down on the patio chair. “Come ride this dick.”
“You're serious?”
“Yeah. You can't say no to this.” He pulled me over and lifted my shirt over my head. My nipples stood at attention as the cool ocean air rushed by them, then he kissed them and slowly removed my jeans. “You've never said no to this dick.” He knew me well. Another gentle breeze brushed my nipples and sent a great sensation to my bare clit. My lower lips were all greased up.
“I want you to fuck me,” Theo commanded. “If you don't do it right, then I'll fuck you.”
BOOK: Fly on the Wall
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