Lessons In Naughtiliciousness

Length: Medium
Rating: PG-13 (swearing, student/teacher)
Tags: one-shot, boyxboy, gay, romance, high school, student/teacher, sweet, funny

Dee is a smexy rainbow unicorn who falls head over heels for Mr. Bryanston, so he decides that it's time to give his ambivalent English teacher some lessons in naughtiliciousness, and hopefully win his heart as well.

Originally published on Wattpad, 10 Jun. 2012

Note: I recommend that you read this on Wattpad via the Wattpad app for a much better experience. That way you can add it to your library, comment as you go, vote, share, and page through it like a real ebook. Enjoy!

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“Please Dee, you’ve got to stop this craziness!” Lesley threw her hands in the air dramatically and rolled her big green eyes. But I was immune to my best friend’s theatrics by now.

“Darling, you’re just jealous because you’re not getting any.”

“Neither are you!” she stressed, then resigned herself to some more eye rolling when I just waived her off. “Well, I’m tired of hearing about your obsession with you-know-who. If you get into trouble, you’re on your own. Tootles.”


We did our little finger brushing thingy before I skipped down the hall towards the western wing. Lesley may have girl plumbing, but I swear she had the romantic inclination of a teaspoon. Whereas I was the king of love, baby! Or should that be the queen of love? Whatever. Being a proud effeminate gay teenager was hard enough without being politically correct all the time.

I glanced around the corner to make sure the corridor was indeed empty, before I tiptoed towards the classroom’s window. There he was, the object of my forbidden love, sitting alone behind that big ol’ desk, staring at that cheap ol’ laptop the way he always did during break.

Yes, you naughty man, I know what you’re doing, and just thinking about it was making me all hot and bothered.

If you told me a month ago I’d be fantasising about my teacher, I’d have laughed you off and called you crazy. Teachers are boring as toothpaste, and Mr. Bryanston never struck me as particularly pretty or special.

Until I caught him reading erotica on his computer. Gay erotica.

I don’t know who was more embarrassed with that little discovery, me or him. Until it hit me: my English teacher got off on boys action. Hotdayem! I wondered what he did when he read them…

I fanned myself as I watched him through the window now, imagining all sorts of naughty things. The next moment he looked up and straight at me. Sh!t.

I froze. Maybe if I didn’t move he won’t see me, just like James Bond.

He rubbed his temples like he had the mother of all headaches, then pushed his chair back and walked to the door.

“Come inside, David,” he said.

I am a statue. I am one with the wall, invisible to human eyes, no one can see me—

“You look ridiculous.”

Huh. So much for all those spy movies. I stuck my tongue out at him before I walked past him into the classroom.

“What are you doing here?” he asked tiredly.

I think he knew, but maybe he was hoping it wasn’t what he thought it was. Or maybe he was really clueless and I had to spell it out for him. Men, pfft.

“I am here to see you,” I said brightly.

“Then why didn’t you come in?”

I looked at him like he was mental. “Nah-uh! Do you know what could happen if they caught us?”

He was completely taken aback. Yes, my darling love monkey, let daddy teach you about life.

“Caught us doing what exactly?”

“Stuff,” I answered vaguely. “I don’t trust myself around you, Mr. Bryanston.”

“Is that so?” he said dryly.

“Yes sir.” I bit my lip (a little nervous habit I have) and glanced at him from underneath my lashes, fluttering them a bit. “You don’t know the danger you’re in right now.” Oh yes, you are in real danger of falling in love with me. Or that I may jump your bones. Not necessarily in that order.

“Are you… trying to flirt with me, David?”

It was my turn to act all taken aback. “Oh, I don’t need to flirt with you sir. I’ll seduce you with my awkwardness.”

His mouth dropped open and he stared at me in stunned silence before he burst out laughing.

“Oh my word,” he gasped and leaned against his table for support until he finally calmed down a bit. “You are the strangest boy, David. The strangest boy.” He wiped a tear away, still chuckling.

I watched him curiously. It made my tummy go all yummy when he laughed like that. He never laughed much in class. Or ever, really. I should know, I stalked the man for a living! Whoops, I did not just say that, hehe.

Aaanyhoe, that buoyant, funny, unpredictable man was the person I fell head over heels for. That side of him didn’t come out a lot but when it did—wow! My stomach did a hundred flip-flops and my heart rate sped up to a thousands beats a second! I sighed happily as he looked so young and desirable and delish! When I say young, I mean younger than his 28 years. Not that 28 is old. I mean, I just turned 18, so we were only 10 years apart. Many couples are 10 years apart, right?

He shook his head, then sat back down behind his desk. “Is this about what you saw on my computer the other day?” he asked without meeting my eyes. He started stacking papers on his desk, then re-stacked them, and when I didn’t answer he chanced a quick glance my way.

I gave him my most angelical look and sat down on his desk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied and studied my nails. He gave me the most adorable, confused look.

“I—” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “I know you saw— uh, something, and…” This time it was his turn to be awkward. Okay, I’m seduced! Kiss me already! Le sigh… I held back the impulse to drape myself all over him. Barely.

Instead I decided to help the poor guy out, he looked ready to have an aneurism. Old people get those a lot, don’t they? Joking! Jeez.

I leaned forward and played with his pen sultrily. “I won’t tell, I promise,” I said in my husky voice. But my seduction seemed wasted on the man when he only gave a relieved smile. Huh. Time to up my game. “But!” I said suddenly and jumped up.

He tensed and watched warily as I walked around his table to where he was. I leaned in, just a little, and tapped the tip of his nose lightly with the pen. “Next time, you have to do something.”

He blinked up at me and I just smiled coyly at him, before he suddenly registered how close I was and scrambled to lean back and look away, all flustered and uncomfortable. I mentally added another apt adjective to my growing list of descriptions for him. Cute. He was definitely very cute.

“Uh, what’s that?” he asked, staring intently at his desk.

I leaned in even more and whispered in his ear, “When you’re reading those, think of,” I gave a soft, sexy groan, “your feet. A tongue licking between your toes, sucking them one by one seductively, all wet and hot, while you play with your—”

He jumped up so suddenly his chair almost toppled but he grabbed it in time. He walked away from me and covered his face with his hands for a moment.

“David,” he sighed, but he didn’t turn around again. After a while he just mumbled, “I think it’s time you enjoyed your break like everyone else. I have work to do.”

I waited a beat, but it became clear he was not turning around soon, so I slowly turned towards him.

“I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable, Mr. Bryanston. I was only talking about feet.”

He just rolled his eyes sardonically at the heavens, and I hesitated. I may be a crazy rainbow unicorn, but I didn’t want to push my luck.

Then I realised I was a crazy rainbow unicorn.

“Maybe you’d rather talk about hands, sir?” I continued unperturbed as I walked towards him. “Although, hands aren’t half as interesting as feet. Did you know that the nerve endings in your feet are connected to every part in your body, and that stimulating— Oh!”

By now I was standing in front of him, where his excitement has pitched a very obvious tent in his pants. My eyes shot upwards, and we stared at each other uneasily.

Can someone say awkward?

Can someone say cute? Eeeeeek! I gnawed at my lip as I looked at the adorable, turned on man before me and quickly covered my mouth with my hand but he saw the huge smile I tried to hide. He just sighed and moved his hand surreptitiously in front of his embarrassment, but these little eyes can never unsee Mr. Happy standing on attention, no sirree! And seeing Mr. B excited like that made my insides feel all tingly and licentious.

“You know what they say about big feet, Mr. Bryanston?” I said suggestively, and his face darkened a shade. “I know a thing or two about… feet.” This time I didn’t hide my smile as I took a small step towards him. “You are really cute, Mr. B.”

Then I gave him a wink and skipped out the door, leaving him with his mouth open and his hand covering his crotch.

* * *

I told Lesley what happened. Then we squealed like two fan girls for five minutes straight.

“I thought you didn’t want to hear about it!” I scolded her after we both finally calmed down.

“Pfft, please. He’s clearly into you, so now it suddenly got interesting. What are you going to do?”

“Play hard to get, of course,” I shrugged, and she started to laugh so hard that she almost choked.

“Don’t laugh at me, b!tch! It’s a valid relationship manoeuvre, especially in this case where I’m obviously fulfilling the traditionally female role,” I reasoned, but she just shook her head.

“Dee, Dee, Dee, what ever will I do with you?” she sighed in her best drama-queen voice and guided me to a chair where she made me sit and listen to her lecture on How To Catch A Man.

“Playing Hard to Get is useless since you are already hard to get. He is your teacher and not supposed to pursue you. In fact, playing hard to get would be the exact same as not being available at all, since it will only put you beyond his reach. No, you want to play,” she lowered her voice and fluttered her lashes, “The Seductress.” I giggled. “You see, if you are the Seductress, you give the man a reason to chase you, even if you are hard to catch, because you will give him incentive wrapped in mystery.”

I mulled that over. “How am I supposed to give him incentive while remaining mysterious?”

“You should subtly let him know what he could get from being with you, without making it too easy for him. It’s the chase that excites them, you see.”

I just raised my brow at her and flicked my wrist. “You seem to know a lot about this.”

She gave me a pretentious smile. “I’ve been around. The male mind holds no mystery for me.”

“No wonder you’re such a worldweary soul,” I said sarcastically and ducked her fist.

“Don’t jest. It’s not like I’m doing you a favour. A student is off bounds for a teacher; he’s an idiot if he allows anything to happen.”

I tsk-tsked her cynicism. “You know there isn’t a single guy our age I want to be in a relationship with. They’re all too macho, or immature, or homophobic. Honestly, I’d rather become a spinster than spend an hour in their company.”

“But a teacher?”

“Remember that time that I helped you pick up that old guy in a bar and you had a fling for over a month? Why is it any different except that he knows how old I am?”

“That guy was a stranger. Mr. Bryanston is your teacher. Big difference!”

I pouted at her and gave her my best puppy dog eyes. “I like him, I really really do. There’s so much more to Mr. Bryanston than you think. And I think, just maybe, that he’s the apple to my candy. I know he likes me back, Les, I just know! I mean, anyone else would have told me to f*ck off long ago, but Mr. B…” I trailed off. I remembered the way I made him laugh, how amazing that felt, and desire fluttered in my stomach like nervous butterflies. “I just have to make him see it,” I said decisively. I was convinced that he just needed a little coaching to see what was right in front of him. No one can resist this shmexiliciousness!

She just sighed and threw her hands out in defeat. “Okay honey, I won’t try to stop you. But I’m not encouraging you either, understand?”

“Excuse me? You’re ma wing-girl, girl! Of course you have to encourage me! I need ma wing-girl to do her thang.”

She flashed me a perky smile and flicked her hair over her shoulder. “So, what are you going to do?”

“Let’s just say I’ve got a plan. By tomorrow he won’t be able to stop thinking about me.”

She raised two perfectly sculpted eyebrows at me. “Do I want to— No, no I don’t. You are playing with fire Dee.” She paused, then smirked. “At least you know he likes feet. You know a lot about feet.”

I could feel my devilish grin grow wider till my cheeks hurt. “Yes. Yes I do.”

* * *

The next morning when I entered Mr. Bryanston’s class, he managed to avoid eye contact for the whole hour, despite my best attempts to engage him.

Huh! The man probably thought by pretending I didn’t exist, I’d go away. Clearly he didn’t understand basic physics. But he taught English, not science, so I overlooked that, since he had all the other characteristics I looked for in a man. I mean, he was good looking and nice and he treated me well (not like some people that will not be named) and he obviously loved boy on boy action, and the best part? He was an expert on poetry. What else could a little unicorn want?

It didn’t hurt that his hands were strong and big and would feel amazing on my skin, or that his voice was velvety and deep, or that those plumb lips just begged to be sucked on… I licked my lips subconsciously as I played out different fantasies in my head for the rest of the period. I couldn’t wait to put my plan into action!

In the next class I developed an ailment that gave me a pass to the office, where I finally slipped “my plan” into his mailbox. Playing the Seductress was going to be a lot of fun!

Then I waited.

It took him an entire day to discover it, which meant a whole day and night of aaaaagonyyyyy! But it was so worth it! I knew he finally got it when I was called to the office the next morning at the start of second period, where he intercepted me and ushered me to his empty classroom.

He closed the door behind us, then stood there with his arms folded across his chest, looking like he’s ready to burst. I, of course, was the epitome of cool as I walked to one of the desks and sat down on it. Okay, that’s a lie, I was oozing impatience. I gave him a wobbly smile, and his frown deepened. Then he started to turn red, which was probably because of the nature of my little gift, but still he just stared at me.

After five minutes I couldn’t take it anymore. “So, did you like it?” I asked, feeling a little nervous. Okay, very nervous. It felt like I was on a first date and trying to impress my boyfriend, except he wasn’t my boyfriend and it wasn’t a date and why am I rambling?

I could see his jaw crunching, and his entire frame heaved as he breathed real hard. He looked good enough to eat! He finally unfolded himself and advanced on me till he stood so close that I had to force my hands not to reach out and touch him.

“So. That story in my mailbox…”

“I wrote it for you, sir.”

He just stared at me like I was a mentally challenged person. Which wasn’t fair, because it was my best work.

“I just wanted to show you how amazing feet really are, sir.”

“So…,” he cleared his throat, “Did you write that?”

I just nodded and he crossed his arms. “You did not copy that from the internet?”

I huffed, a little offended, and crossed my arms defiantly. “No, I wrote every word. I told you I know something about… feet.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “So you admit to giving a teacher gay erotica.”

I smiled. I wrote the most superlicious gay smut my dirty little mind could conjure up, about a naughty English teacher and his sexy student, and feet. Oh yeah, lots of feet action! I swear my story would make a straight man cum.

Mr. B did not look impressed though. “That is illegal, David, and I can report you for sexual harassment and inappropriate conduct.”

Uh-oh. Looks like my devious little plan backfired. I squirmed under his gaze as I worried my lip.

“It’s just, I know you like reading that stuff, Mr. Bryanston, it’s no use denying it. And,” I took a deeeeeeep breath and launched into my only defence, “I knew feet turned you on and I told you I know something about feet, and I wanted you to think about… about…” I stopped suddenly and blushed. Lesley did say to give him an incentive, but it was quite mortifying to say it out loud. And anyway, where’s the mystery in that?

Mr. Bryanston studied me for a long time.

“In the story, I assume the student is you,” he asked and I nodded. “Can you… I mean, in real life, can you really do that to my— someone’s feet?” he finally stuttered. I looked up sharply. Did he really ask what I think he did?

“Well, of course. I mean, I could, I want to, I… Sh!t. Whoops, sorry,” I snapped my mouth shut, then tried again. “What I mean is, only if that someone…” I lowered my voice, suddenly self-conscious, “is you, sir.”

He studied me again, and I could not read him. Oh I wish I could read minds right now! If I had a superpower, I’d definitely be mind-reading Edward Cullen, only better, because I’d be a gay vampire that glitters. I knew how to work glitter, baby.

Mr. Bryanston finally blew out a breath. “Why, David? You’re an attractive boy, young and virile, and obviously quite talented. Why do you waste your time with me?”

I cocked my head and gave a small smile. “Do you really think I’m attractive?”

He squeezed the bridge of his nose, but the mood felt lighter somehow. “Just answer the question.”

“I’m not wasting my time Mr. B, because that would mean that you’re not worth it, and you are.”

He dropped his hand and looked at me like I just grew another head. Which would be so cool if that happened. “Have I ever told you that you’re a strange boy, David?”

“All the time, sir.”

He sat down behind his desk and stared at the pages in front of him. “This is very good writing. The topic is obviously risqué, but you have a firm grasp of language and the …” He trailed off as he saw my body shake. I was trying not to laugh, but it was hard— Hard!

I burst out laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m—” I leaned forward, unable to breath, “It’s just, when you said firm grasp—” Another bout of laughter followed, “Sorry, sir, I can’t help it. I guess,” I chuckled a bit as I finally managed to pull myself together, “my mind is still on that risqué subject.”

“I’m not surprised,” he mumbled, but he was red again, so clearly someone else’s mind was also in that gutter. Burn!

He stared at the paper in front of him, but he wasn’t reading my story anymore. Something was bothering him. Hmmm, I think I knew what that could be!

I dragged a chair next to him, which I turned backwards and straddled, then rested my head on my hands so I could stare at him with big, guileless eyes.

“Just ask me,” I said encouragingly, but he remained silent. I tipped the chair forward, closer to him. “I can see something’s bothering you, Mr. B. I cannot answer what you do not ask.”

He furrowed his brow and rubbed his temples, and just as I thought he was not going to say anything, he sputtered, “Y-you’re only 18. How do you even know all of t-that?”

I shrugged. “Some of it I’ve done, some of it I’ve seen, and some of it happens in my fantasies.”

Mr. Bryanston looked quite shocked at that, but at least he had the decency to keep any disapproval to himself. And he was curious despite his misgivings, I could tell. I found it strange, and very sad, that someone so yummy and so old, was also so innocent. He was missing out on so much fun!

“Can you really… Is feet really that much… I mean…” He looked so embarrassed that I almost hugged him! He clearly needed someone to teach him about hanky-panky, and I knew just the person, wink-wink.

“Yes, Mr. B. I told you, I know a lot about feet.” I gave him a slow, devious grin. “Amongst other things.”

He was too embarrassed to look at me, but I could see the forbidden question on his face, the one he was dying to ask but couldn’t.

I understood his struggle. He was a really good guy at heart who believed in right and wrong, who treated everyone right because that’s who he was. In this case it unfortunately meant that he could not like a student, but that was still one of his best qualities, so I could never fault him for it. Unfortunately it was keeping him away from what would be the best thing to ever happen to him: ME.

I placed a sympathetic hand on his arm and ignored the sparks that traveled up my palm. “It must be hard, knowing what’s expected, yet wanting the opposite and feeling like that is the right thing,” I said empathetically. “Come on Mr. B, I want you to ask me. No one else needs to know.”

But his resolve was stronger than my patience, and I finally stood up with a sigh and walked to the door.


I stopped and turned around. He stood frozen by his desk, a strange desperation in his eyes.

“Tell me, please.”

My heart melted a little. How could I deny him anything?

“Yes, Mr. B, I would do that to you, all of it and more, and I will make you feel things you’ve never felt before and I know you are scared but you shouldn’t be. Love isn’t something to be afraid of.”

His eyes widened and he started to say something but I held up a hand. “I think you need to think about it a bit before you decide.”

“There is nothin—”

“Please, Mr. Bryanston, I know what you want to say, but don’t. I know what I’m doing, and if you’re willing to take the risk, so am I. I can’t explain why, all I know is I want to make you feel all good and tingly. I want to hear you moan my name, I want to see you cum over me and under me and on me and inside me. I want to feel your lips and touch your face and see you smile. And I want to make you laugh. I love to hear you laugh.”

He swallowed hard, and I swear his eyes glistened. He finally just turned away, and I left after he didn’t say anything else for a long time.

I think he was crying, though I couldn’t be sure. I don’t understand why though, it’s not like I said anything sad. In fact, I would think he’d be glad that someone wanted to pleasure him in weird and wonderful ways!

I sighed. Life was such a hardship for a lonely unicorn when his love went unreciprocated.

* * *

“Don’t keep this from me, David Elias Robertson! I know three kinds of torture that don’t leave any marks!”

It was the period after break and Lesley was furious with me, like I knew she would be, because I didn’t want to tell her what happened with Mr. Bryanston. There was something strangely private about our interaction, so it didn’t feel right to share it, not even with Lesley, so I've managed to avoid her until now.

Although, she was probably telling the truth about that torture thing, but right now I was too distracted to care.

She switched tactics. “I’m your bestest friend! You always tell me everything,” she whined, then started to pull on my sleeve. “You’ve got to give me something or I’ll die!”

She’s playing the guilt card. I hated the guilt card! I sighed dramatically.

“I wrote him a story that I put in his mailbox.”

Her eyes sparkled as she leaned in expectantly. Uh-uh sista! These yummy lips are sealed!

“And?” She slapped me a few times until I caught her hand. “At least tell me what it’s about?”




She leaned back, a dark cloud forming above her head that shot thunderbolts at me. “You suck, Dee.”

“Yes I do!”

She huffed and got up. “I’m going over there.” She pointed to the back of the class where a group of snobbish girls were gossiping about everyone on the planet. “They are much better company than you are.”

I clutched at my chest like she shot me through the heart, but she just rolled her eyes. Her ponytail whipped around as she turned sharply on her heel and walked away.

It was my turn to roll my eyes. Girls, pfft, can’t live with them, can’t turn them into chocolate coated marshmallows and eat them. But I had more important things to think about as my mind wandered back to Mr. B. Like, why he was crying.

Our sad parting bothered me for the rest of the day and late into the night. Until I had an epiphany: I could use my only superpower to do something about it! Okay, maybe it wasn’t a superpower, but it was something I was good at, so I immediately started to write him another story.

One that will make him laugh.

* * *

The next day I was practically vibrating with excitement as I put the new story in his mailbox, but when second period came, nothing happened. Third period came and went. Fourth. Fifth. Break (during which he steadily ignored me outside his window). Sixth and seventh all rolled by and still he didn’t call me to the office. Aaargh!!!

So I had to wait for English class, which was the second last period of the day. When I entered his classroom he was his usual, composed, unsmiling self, and he treated me like he always did, like I was semi-invisible, boo!

But as the bell rang and everyone around me started to pack up their stuff, he called me to his desk. I skipped to the front, barely able to contain myself, as the class quickly emptied.

He gave me a reproaching glance before he handed me a small piece of paper.

“Read it in private, then tear it up, okay?” he said softly, then continued with whatever he was doing. I nodded, feeling like one of those spies in one of those movies, and exited his class in an appropriate manner.


“Yes sir?”

“Why are you walking so… strange?”

I quickly stepped away from the wall and straightened my back. “No reason,” I said innocently. He was still staring at his papers, but I could see him fighting a smile. Victory!

I skipped outside, then quickly glanced at the piece of paper. It was a note that said: ‘Room 114 after school’

My heart soared and I skipped at high speed to my next class. He wanted to see me! He wanted to see me! He wanted me, he liked me, he—

I skipped straight into a crazy female.


“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” Lesley scolded me and slapped my cheek. I slapped her back and ducked before she slapped me again.

“Stop being… here.” I retorted lamely and tried to get past her but she blocked my path. “Move b!tch, I’m gonna be late for class!”

“No such luck, sister. Out with it. What happened?”

“Nothing!” I said too quickly and hid the paper behind my back. He did say to tear it up, so obviously it was a secret, right?

“What’s that?”


“Give it here!”




A crazy dance ensued with me spinning in circles while Lesley leaned all over me trying to grab my arm, but this little love queen knew a few moves! At the first chance I got I shoved the paper in my mouth. The crazy woman tried to pry it out but I bit her fingers and she yanked her hand away.

“You b!tch! Now I’ll get rabies!” she yelled but I just ran away laughing.

Once around the corner I tried to swallow that dry piece of paper like a good little spy, but choked instead, so I just spat it out into a bin, all slobbered up and yucky. No one will touch that anyway.

I was jittery for the rest of the long long looooong day. When that final bell rang I was the first one out the door, heading straight for room 114.

It took me a while to locate it, since it was in a part of the school where I never went, near the home economy classes and workshops. It was a curious location, but very secluded, so maybe that was the point. I skidded to a stop. Maybe Mr. B didn’t want any witnesses when he raped and murdered me. Yeah, I’ve seen the movie! I halted outside the door, suddenly having second thoughts, and glanced inside carefully.

It was empty, so I decided to trust my super ninja powers if something crazy happened. Besides, I wrote him that really funny story; he’d be too happy to think of murder. I hoped.

I checked out this strange class. The lower walls were solid brick and didn’t have any windows like Mr. B’s classroom, only a single row close to the roof, so no one could see in from outside if the door was closed. There were diagrams against the walls and lots of large workbenches with high chairs instead of normal tables. Hmmm, I could already imagine a few things these large tables could be good for.

I picked a seat near the door and waited. Which really just meant I jumped up every few seconds to pace all over the place like a caged kangaroo with diarrhoea.

Finally the door opened and Mr. B leaned against the doorjamb. I rushed forward but he held out a hand and I skidded to a stop.

“And?” I asked impatiently.

He shook his head slowly and sat down on the desk next to me. I could swear he mumbled something about how I was a strange boy, but I was used to that by now.

“Did you like it, Mr. B?” I asked as I seesawed on the spot, unable to keep still. He leaned forward and put his hands firmly on my shoulders to stop my rocking.

“Don’t you ever calm down?” he asked. I grinned at him.

“I’m a sexy rainbow unicorn, sir,” I answered. He shook his head like a man resigned to endure the madness of this life.

“When you say things like that, I feel really old,” he sighed and dragged a hand over his face warily. “David, you said something last time that, I think, we need to talk about.”

“Oh.” I immediately stopped seesawing, my heart in my throat. “Do you want to know more about feet?”

He chuckled despite himself, and shook his head. “No, although I must say some of those things… ahem.” He cleared his throat self-consciously. “Em, no, what you said was that love isn’t something to be afraid of. It really bothered me. In fact, I couldn’t sleep last night.” That's when I noticed the dark rings under his eyes, and how tired he really looked. He started to shift uncomfortably when I gave him my sympathy look. “I just can’t figure out why you’d say something like that,” he said.

I looked at him quizzically. “Don’t you believe that, sir?”

“No, I mean, I do, I mean, why do you think that I…” he scratched his head, “I mean, how do you know, why are you so sure… Sorry, I’m not making sense.”

“How do I know that about us?”

He nodded relieved.

“I just do. I don’t know how, but I do.”

He slumped down like the world weighed on his shoulders. He looked sad, so very sad.

“Oh, David. You’re still so young! To be so sure! I wish…” he gave a frustrated laugh. “I don’t even know what love is, and I have been around for a while! To say something like that…”

Every fibre in my being wanted to hug him and tickle him and cover him with kisses till there was only happiness in those eyes. How could he not see that he needed me? I touched his face lightly with my fingertips, desperate to wipe that sadness away.

“Did you read it sir?”

“What? Oh, you mean the story?” He gave a limp smile, then pulled a wad of papers from his back pocket. “I must say, this was quite entertaining to say the least.”

“Did you laugh out loud, Mr. B?”

He looked at me surprised. “Yes, yes. More than once.” He chuckled, clearly thinking of one of those funny scenes and I felt a warm heat spread through my body.

“Which part was the funniest?” I asked, although I didn’t really care, I just wanted to hear him laugh.

By now he was smiling as he ironed out the papers on his leg. “The whole story is funny, I don’t think I can pick just one part. There was that one scene where the two guys woke up with an entire flock of geese in their tent. I loved the dialogue and the comedy is just so…” He laughed heartily as he scanned over it. I drank him in, that beautiful smile and the way it made his eyes crinkle at the corners into a hundred happy lines. The way his whole being lit up was mesmerising.

“It’s a shame, sir,” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“That you don’t laugh more often. When you laugh… it does something to you that is wonderful and beautiful. I would write you a million stories just to see you laugh all the time.”

His smile faded into surprise and he swallowed loudly. “And then you say things like that, and it’s like you’re the adult and I’m the hormone-riddled teenager,” he finally said in a strangled voice. He was looking at me with an indecipherable expression again.

I licked my lips with a nervous flick of my tongue. “I don’t understand why you seem to be so confused sir. I’m not. It’s really simple.”

“No David, it’s not.”

“Yes it is.”

He shrugged helplessly. “This is… wow, highly, highly…” He trailed off, his fingers drumming anxiously on the table, before he got up and paced across the room. I waited impatiently. Come to me, oh sexy one! I used my Jedi mind trick to make him walk to me, but he managed to resist my powers. The force was strong with that one.

So I just ogled him as he walked back and forth. I really loved watching him.

“…do it again, please.”

“Huh? I mean, sorry, what?” I blinked a few times. I guess I zoned out there for a bit.

He walked towards me, a determined look on his face. “David, I am your teacher.” He paused meaningfully and I nodded. “You,” he pointed a finger at me, “are my student.” I nodded again. Yeah, I did not know that, thank you for pointing it out. “And this,” he swirled that finger around like it could magically conjure up the correct word since he was clearly struggling with it. I decided to help.






He gave me an exasperated look.

“Bird? Red? Gingerbread? Submarine? Come on Mr. B, I need more than just,” I mimicked his swirling finger.

He shook his head and… yes, there it was. That sexy smile. A big one, oh yeah! He gave an unexpected laugh and I gave myself a high five. I did that, I made him laugh! I swayed my hips all salsa-sexily and he tried hard not to look bemused.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s a victory dance,” I said, but of course he didn’t get it, so I explained it really slowly. “I made you smile, Mr. B. I told you, you don’t smile nearly enough,” I pouted and he shook his head, not able to withstand my bewitching charm.

“You really are a strange boy. Quite entertaining, but… strange.”

“I prefer charmingly unique.”

He snorted and I lifted my brow. “That’s an understatement,” he mumbled and I gave him a playful slap.

“Don’t say that! I’m a proud rainbow unicorn, and not afraid to just be myself!” I giggled.

He suddenly grew serious. “How do you do it?” he asked softly, “How can you be so sure of everything? Of yourself? I’m an adult—a teacher!—and still it feels like I’m the one with a thousand questions and no certainty. Then I look at you and… I envy you. You make it look so easy.”

I had to kiss him. I had to kiss him. I just had to kiss him. No! Bad lips, bad! I put my knuckles in my mouth and bit down hard to distract myself from the need to touch my lips against those plumb, juicy, inviting— Ouch! My eyes teared up.

“David?” He grabbed my hand and brushed tenderly over the angry teeth marks, clearly upset. “What was that for?”

“So I wouldn’t do this.” I leaned in and put my lips on his before I lost my nerves. I just held my lips there, warmth against tingling warmth, not really kissing, just touching. We stayed like that for what felt like an eternity.

I was the one who pulled back. His eyes were wide, completely shellshocked. He didn’t move, and I suddenly got the feeling that I broke him. Except it was just a soft little kiss! Right?

“Mr. B?” I asked uncertainly. He blinked and suddenly took a choky breath, like he has forgotten to breath till now. He got up and pushed past me and as he disappeared out the door I felt as empty as that classroom.

* * *

The rest of the week dragged by so slow that I wanted to scream! I’ve stopped stalking Mr. Bryanston, and he was ignoring me as always, and I was just miserable. Not even Lesley could cheer me up, and that rarely happened.

Today was especially hard because we had a double English period, and Mr. B called my name but it was only to read out loud in class and I almost started to cry because hearing him say my name was the most beautiful torture. Finally the last bell released me from this special hell and I rushed home. Just to find that the afternoon also dragged by, so I moped and ate a whole tub of ice-cream and went to bed almost three hours earlier than usual.

Just to wake up three hours too early, thinking about Mr. Bryanston. So I wrote another story just because it calmed me. I didn’t write it for him at first, it was so much different from what I usually wrote, but then I realised it was perfect.

I had a moment of doubt where I almost didn’t print it out for him, but then I thought if he didn’t like it, it’s not like he could hate me more than he did now. And anyway, that little slip-up where I kissed him was just a small speed hump to test my resolve, and not the insurmountable road block I made it out to be.

That’s right world, this scrumptiousness can’t be brought down that easily!

I put it in his mailbox first thing that morning. I waited the entire morning, and later in English period for a sign that he’s read it, but he ignored me the same as usual, so I was a little disappointed. Until he started handing out our test sheets, and on mine, in bright red, was a huge F in a circle.

An F? I’ve never failed an English test before!

I looked up to ask him about it, but he has moved on, so I fidgeted for the rest of the period like I had ants in my pants. Under the F he wrote, “Come see me after school, 114”. I tried to catch him when the bell rang, but he disappeared almost like he knew I would, so I had no choice but to wait till the end of the day. By then I was reduced to a whimpering state of misery.

My feet dragged as I entered room 114. He was at the teacher’s desk, working on his laptop, but closed it when he saw me.

“David,” he greeted me. I just made a nondescript humph sound as I slumped down in the closest chair.

“An F? Why did I get an F? It was just a kiss! I’m sorry, okay? Sorry!”

Mr. Bryanston folded his hands and looked at me very serious. “Do you know what ‘F’ stands for, David?”

“Fail, of course.”

He just looked at me with a ‘really now?’ expression and I frowned. If it doesn’t mean fail, then what? I racked my brain but couldn’t think of something.

“I don’t know! Friday? Ferret?”

He gave a small grin, and I noticed that he didn’t look mad. Maybe he read my story after all.


He finally smiled at me, and it was the most enchanting smile that lit up his whole face and I just stared at it because I haven’t seen him smile in so long.

“I don’t know what to say David. Your story was amazing. Thank you. It touched me deeply.” His smile faltered. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry about the way I treated you. You caught me by surprise, and I suppose I could have handled that better.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I honestly don’t know what to do about you sometimes. You keep me out of kilter and it’s a new experience for me, to feel lost all the time.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say, except, “I’m sorry?” What else could I say? “Is that why I failed English? Are you trying to punish me?”

He got up and crossed the small space between us until he was so close I could smell him. Hmmm, he smelled so delish I just wanted to wrap him around me and inhale all day long.

“You didn’t fail English.”

“Then why did you give me an F—”

“David,” he said and leaned his elbows on my table as he waited for me to catch on. Then I realised he just needed a way to get me alone. My face started to burn.

“Oh.” I tugged nervously at my bottom lip with my teeth. He was veeeery close and monster butterflies were wreaking havoc in my tummy.

“What does ‘F’ stand for?” he asked softly. I gazed into his eyes, and my heart skipped like five or six beats, I swear.

“Ffff…fun?” He shook his head. “Fan? Fetish? Fear?” He kept shaking his head, but there was a sparkle in his eyes and I couldn’t help but smirk at him.

“F*ck?” He frowned deeply but shook his head.

“Frown?” I traced the lines on his forehead teasingly and he grinned.

“Friend,” he said firmly.

“Oh.” I felt my face fall. “Oh.”

“David,” he lifted my chin up with his finger and where he touched me a million fireworks went off. “You want something from me that I can’t give you. It’s impossible, don’t you see? Don’t force it.”

The corner of my mouth lifted at that obvious F word. “You don’t have to force something if it is fate, Mr. B,” I said quietly, and his eyes darkened. You know in the movies where two people are talking and suddenly everything around them fades away until it’s just the two of them? That’s what it felt like, like the world spun around us while we stood still.

He took a long time to answer. “Fate, huh? I don’t believe in fate.”

“I do. Don’t worry, I believe enough for both of us.”

He just sighed deeply and this time I lifted his chin so he could look at me. “Don’t sigh like the world is about to end. I want to see you happy. It makes me float on cotton candy when you laugh like you mean it.”

He chuckled softly. “It’s been a long time since anyone cared enough to make me laugh. Since anyone has made me feel…” he trailed off, and his eyes turned all shimmery.

“Fffeel,” I echoed his word and placed my hand over his heart. “Fffery good,” I added teasingly and he sputtered.

“You shouldn’t murder the English language like that in front of an English teacher, it’s—”

“Not fffery nice,” I said. And because his eyes still looked sad I kissed him again.

This time I moved my lips against his, determined to make him forget everything else but me. His lips were soft and hard at the same time, a little chapped, but oh so pliable, and when he finally moved them I gave a soft gasp. Our lips moved together and it was wonderful and gentle and amazing and over way too quickly.

“Wow,” I breathed. My eyes were closed, and my lips still tingled like a fairy was doing a little tap-dance of joy on them. I opened my eyes to see he was staring at me with wide eyes.

“Oh,” he said. Yes my lovely, that’s what you’ve been missing!

I softly traced his lips with my index finger. “Finger,” I muttered absentmindedly and the corners of his lips quirked upwards.

“Funny,” he said and patted my cheek softly.

“Finally,” I sighed as I held his hand against my face and leaned forward to kiss him again but he turned his face away and stood up.

“No. I can’t… I can’t David, I just… This should never have happened.” He grabbed his computer and walked out, but paused at the door to look at me. “I’m really, really sorry. I…” A single tear ran down his cheek but he wiped at his face angrily before he turned and disappeared.

* * *

When I finally got home, I locked myself in my room and refused to come out.

Since it was the weekend, no one really noticed, except for Lesley who bugged me incessantly through texts and unanswered calls. I only ventured out of the bat cave to sneak some food from the fridge.

Yes, I’ve decided I’ll be Batman because Batman is unbreakable. Nothing about him is fragile, least of all his heart.

But when Monday came, I didn’t feel any better, despite being Batman. When I got to school Lesley just sent me flaming glances while ignoring me, and during break I waited outside Mr. Bryanston’s class but he never showed. When English period came around, he acted strange. He snapped at everybody and even yelled at me, and I couldn’t stop thinking that it was all my fault.

The only good thing that happened all day was that Lesley forgave me and we made up. But she could never stay mad for long anyway, that crazy girl.

When I finally got home I needed to drown my sorrows in a tub of ice-cream but it was all finished so walked to the store. By the time I got back I’ve made up my mind. I’ll try once more, but then I’m done. This unicorn’s heart can only take so much.

It took me the entire night to write a story. I struggled with this one because it was extra special. I poured my heart and soul into it, hoping that maybe, just maybe, it was enough to make Mr. Bryanston see me differently.

When I made it to school I was a total zombie from lack of sleep, and I kept tripping over my feet as I clutched those precious pages to my chest. They were too important to just drop them off in his box, so I walked to his class to give it to him personally. But he wasn’t there so I folded it in half and put it on his table.

When English period finally came, I rushed to class. The pages were still laying on his table, at least, I think it was my story because they were still folded in half and I couldn’t see the writing on them, but hopefully he has seen it by now.

As I was still staring at it, Mr. B picked up the papers. Then, like it was happening in slow motion, he tore them up, again and again, until there were only tiny pieces of confetti left that fluttered down into the bin.

My heart stopped. The world stopped. Everything stopped. The disappointment dropped into my belly like a ton of bricks, and I spent the rest of the period in a daze. I know Mr. Bryanston called on me at some point, but I don’t know what he said, or what I answered, or anything else for that matter.

When break came, I didn’t stalk him from my usual spot outside his classroom. I just meandered all over the school grounds until I found myself at our usual spot where I just dropped down next to Lesley, too tired to wander any further.

“You look blah,” Lesley observed, and took a big bite from her sandwich. I tried to roll my eyes but I just couldn’t muster the energy. She stopped chewing. “What’s wrong?”

I felt my lip quiver. “He doesn’t like me enough.”

Her face moulded into such a tender expression of sympathy and concern that I wanted to throw myself at her and tell her how much I appreciated her and that she’s the bestest friend in the whole wide world and then I did, I just hugged her and hugged her and hugged her until I felt something burst inside me and then her shoulder was all wet as my whole body shuddered and I cried my little broken heart out.

“There there now, everything will be okay,” she cooed as she rubbed my back up and down, even though we both knew she was lying and we both knew it didn’t matter. I finally calmed down to the odd hiccup or two, and she carefully unhooked herself from my grip.

“So, what happened?” she asked. I could feel my face scrunch up again and struggled hard to keep back another round of sobs.

“He didn’t want it. He doesn’t want me. Not even after everything I told him…” I started to cry again and she held me against her and we just sat like that until the bell rang. Then she snuck me into the girls’ bathroom and helped clean me up and we skipped the next two classes so no one would see my puffy red eyes.

Every unicorn needed a wing-girl like Lesley. She really was the bestest.

* * *

The next morning I seriously considered staying in bed, but finally decided to get back up on that horse. Then cringed at my poor choice of metaphors.

Everything seemed to go okay until I ran into a livid Mr. Bryanston somewhere between third and fourth period. He dragged me into the nearest empty classroom and started yelling at me.

“Yesterday you acted strange in class, so I waited for you to show up during break but when you didn’t I looked for you afterwards, but you weren’t in your classes. I was worried sick about you!”

Wait a minute, he was worried about me? I guess I must have looked really confused because he finally stopped yelling and sat down next to me with a loud thump.

“David,” he groaned, shaking his head, “what have you done?”

My tummy did a nervous flip. “W-what do you mean?”

He turned his eyes to me, and my tummy did another flip, then another. He has never looked at me like that before.

“I read your story.”

“Wait a minute, I saw you tear it up,” I said hoarsely. He looked at me baffled.

“Why would I do that?”

“But I saw—!”

He grabbed my face, trying to calm my sudden panic. “Why would I do that, David?” he asked firmly. I shook my head, not that that was an easy feat as he was still holding my head firmly between his hands. I slowly met his eyes and grew hot from his intense gaze.

“Because,” I finally answered him in a small shaky voice, “you’re my teacher and I’m your student. Because you can do better than me. Because,” I swallowed hard, but the lump in my throat wouldn’t go away, “you don’t like me the way I like you.”

By now a fountain has erupted inside me and was leaking from every crevice in my face. Mr. B used his thumbs to wipe under my eyes a few times, but once my nose started running I buried my face in my hands in embarrassment. Now I looked like a splotchy watermelon. Any chance of him liking me now just flew out the window with my last shred of dignity.

But then I felt his arms wrap around me and the most wonderful, warm sensation enveloped my body. I literally melted into him like butter on toast.

“David, I could never, never tear up your story, how could you think that? Shhh, stop crying, please.” He hugged me closer while his fingers wound through my hair and despite my tears my heart suddenly felt light as a feather. I held onto him so tightly that it was quite uncomfortable still sitting on my own chair, but then he scooped me onto his lap and it felt like I came home as I pressed my face into the crook of his neck and inhaled that wonderful scent of earthiness and musky male.

We sat like that for a while. He kept playing with the hair in my neck, and I felt the gentle rise and fall of his body as he breathed. “I really like sitting like this,” I mumbled against his skin, “I haven’t felt this peaceful in a long, long time.”

“Why did you write this story? I mean, the other ones I get, but this one is so… different.”

I didn’t answer immediately. “You know why, sir,” I finally whispered.

“No I don’t.”

I nestled myself into the hollow of his body. I didn’t want to explain and break this magic spell.

“I don’t understand the part about the boy,” his voice rumbled under me. “He died, but then he came back as a ghost.” He pulled me away from him so he could search my face. “I want to understand. I need to understand.”

I swallowed nervously. Even the queen of love got nervous when it came to love.

“When the boy died, he found a way back because he couldn’t bear to see his lover sad. He wanted to make him happy, even if it meant he couldn’t move on. That’s how much he loved him.”


“Don’t say that,” I whispered against his neck. “You keep saying no, but can’t you see how much you need me?”

He suddenly shifted me off his lap and stood up. My heart started beating rapidly and I suddenly wished that I had written a gay smut fest instead. At least then he could want me again, even if he didn’t love me.

“Listen David,“ he said, and the way he said it, so determined and final, made a fresh stream of tears run down my face, “you’re still young. There’s plenty of time to find someone special, fall in love, have a future together.” He hugged himself, looking as miserable as I felt. “Why are you pursuing this?”

“I c-can’t help it, Mr. B. I’m in l-love with you,” I hiccuped.

He looked so torn as he took in my tearstained face. “It’s killing me, David,” he whispered softly and wiped my tears away, over and over, but they kept coming. I leaned into his warm touch and he held his hand there for a moment, but then he just sighed and pulled back and everywhere he touched suddenly felt cold and lonely.

“I can’t handle it anymore,” he said hoarsely, and I didn’t understand that because he wasn’t the one crying, and maybe I was wrong, but it’s not like he has told me to stay away!

“What can’t you handle, Mr. B?” I sniffed angrily, “My tears? My affection? Maybe I should just cease to exist. Maybe that will make you happy!”

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” he frowned.

“M-melodra—“ I gaped at him in disbelief, then gave him my best pouty glare, hands on hips. He was getting a good piece of my mind for being an insensitive prick!

“If I am being ‘melodramatic’,” I air-quoted, “it’s because you drive me to it! No one has ever made me cry except you, I’ve never met someone I wanted to get serious with until now, I have never dreamed night after night about a guy—well, except that one time I had weird dreams about Johnny Depp—and I’ve never ever wanted to kiss someone so badly! So excuse me if you don’t like the melodrama, but that’s just who I am!”

Mr. Bryanston looked at me in stunned silence. Then he finally muttered something unintelligible.

“Excuse me?”

He gave me half a smile. “Johnny Depp, huh?”

I shook my finger at him. “Nu-uh, don’t change the subj—”

He cut me off with his delectable lips. It took my brain a moment to catch up to reality. Mr. B was kissing me.

He was kissing me.



“Are you really kissing me? Because I had a dream like this once where—” I mumbled against his lips, but I felt him smile before he deepened the kiss and then there was no way I could talk or think anymore. I threw my arms around his neck and welded myself to him. If he was going to change his mind again, he’s going to have one helluva time getting me off him!

He ended the kiss gently and then kissed me softly first on my left eye, then my right, and my heart melted completely.

“I love who you are, including the melodrama,” he said, and gave me a soft kiss on the forehead. “I fought this, God knows I did, but you’re one persistent little bugger.”

“Unicorn. Persistent little unicorn.”

He laughed and I pressed my ear against his chest to listen to the deep rumbling that was the most comforting sound in the world. I sighed happily.

“I like that you make me laugh,” he said, “I like that you’re so sure about everything. I absolutely love your stories! You can do so much better than me. But…” I felt his chest rise and fall in a deep sigh. I stood up straight so I could look at him. “I love that you chose me,” he said softly.

“You do?” I couldn’t keep the skepticism from my voice. “I thought you just tolerated me because you’re too nice to hurt my feelings.”

He just shook his head before he hugged me against him. “I like you too much, David, that’s the problem. Way too much. There’s no future for us; so many things could go horribly wrong. Dammit, I should have let you go, I should have been stronger.”

“I’m sorry Mr. B. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you,” I muttered softly.

He pushed me upright and gave me a quizzical look.

“It’s not an ideal situation, but,” he brought his face close to mine, “don’t ever apologise for that again, okay? If you do, I’ll have to punish you.”

“Really? Like, spank me or something?” I asked, suddenly perked up by the idea.

He choked, all red in the face as he suddenly realised what he said. My cute little innocent love monkey!

“I guess it’s too soon for my naughty teacher fantasies,” I said with exaggerated disappointment. Mr. B made a strangled noise and rolled his eyes in overstated relief, but the most naughtilicious ideas were already forming in my pervy mind and I gave him an evil grin.

“Don’t worry Mr. B, I’ll start you off slow. First, I’m teaching you everything I know about feet.”

<<< THE END >>>

Author Note: This was the most difficult story I've ever written, because halfway through I realised I don't agree with teachers having relationships with their students. Because of that I couldn't write the teacher without hating him, so I kept changing and changing the setup and flow until I didn't hate Mr. B anymore, and I had to make sure Dee was tenacious enough to break through his defences because that was the only way I could live with the outcome. This will be my one and only teacher/student story ever :)

I have written a spin-off inspired by Dee's naughty foot fantasies called "Good Vibrations", which is the free story available to subscribers.

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