My Former Teacher

Reagan Foxx struts into the massage spot, spots Lucas Frost in the lobby with his back to her. 'You must be my masseur,' she says, voice all smooth. He spins around, and damn, her eyes pop wide. This guy's a total hunk. He's wiping down a table with a rag, muscles flexing under that shirt. His eyes bug out for a beat too, freezing mid-wipe before he snaps back. 'Yes, I am, Miss Foxx,' he replies, dropping the rag like it's hot. He mutters an apology for being caught off-guard, says he was just tidying up. 'No worries,' Reagan shoots back, then pauses. Hold up—how the hell did he know her name? He looks familiar. Does she know this stud from somewhere? He chuckles, explains he pulled it from her file on the computer, duh. Quick as a flash, he hustles her into the massage room. Points to the table. 'Undress and hop on face down,' he says. 'Eyes away,' she demands. He turns politely, but yeah, he sneaks a peek as she strips and slides onto the table, her curves on full display. They chat easy. She mentions her boyfriend hooked her up with this massage—her back's been killing her since the twins arrived. 'You got a family?' he asks. 'Nah, these twins,' she laughs, pointing to her massive rack. He eyes them with real appreciation. 'Prime work right there,' he says, smirking. He digs into her back, hands strong and sure. 'What do you do for a living?' he probes. 'Teacher at the local high school.' 'No shit?!' he blurts, but his face says he might've known. 'I went there!' That's it—familiarity clicks for Reagan. She was his teacher! He plays dumb, like he's straining to remember, then grins. 'It's flooding back now.' She admits she recalls him sharp as hell—he was the high school heartthrob, king of the halls. 'Aw, not really,' he says, all fake humble. But Reagan begs to differ; the guy's swapped out smoking hot girls like weekly outfits. He laughs. 'What about you in high school?' 'Me? Total nerd, no boyfriends, buried in books,' she says. Made up for it later, though—now she's got a killer boyfriend. He tells her to flip over, hands her a towel for her bare tits. As he passes it, he's all wide-eyed. 'Hard to buy you had no dates with assets like these,' he says. The towel's a joke—way too small for her huge boobs, slips right off. She snatches it up quick, but he's locked on, loving every second. Eyes meet, tension thick as fog. They shake it off. Business time. 'You've climbed far—from nerd to teacher,' he says. Hell, she was the class favorite. His hands work her legs now, sliding higher up her thighs. 'You were more than that for me. Had a huge crush.' Reagan flushes, squirms a bit. 'Why me? You had all those young, pretty girls!' 'Just a regular teacher,' she adds. 'Nah, not to me,' he fires back. 'Sometimes you crave experience.' Through all her teaching years, bet she crushed on a student. 'Never! Too young!' 'Not all— I was 18 in your class.' True, but still wrong for a teacher. He pushes. 'Not one single guy?' She caves a tad. 'Maybe one, but ancient history.' 'Someone in my year?' His hands knead deeper into her thighs. 'Can't spill to you,' she laughs. 'I'll drag it out of you.' She drifts off dreamy, melting under his touch. Spotting how into it she is, he offers a special chest massage. 'Usually extra, but for old pals? On the house.' She hesitates—boyfriend would flip. He nods, swears it's all clinical, pro as hell, pure therapy. Back's been brutal lately, nothing helps, so she gives in. 'Keep it pro,' she teases. 'Yes, Miss Foxx,' he purrs, sly as sin. Oil pours, hands glide over her breasts, thumb brushing her nipple. She moans soft, can't help it. 'So, who was that secret crush student?' Eyes shut, sinking deeper into bliss from the tit rub, she stonewalls. 'How 'bout yes-or-no guesses? Nail it, you get the truth?' She sighs, gone in his magic hands. 'My year?' 'Yes.' 'History class?' 'Yes.' 'Football team?' 'Yes.' Well, Lucas played ball. 'Quarterback?' 'No.' 'Linebacker?' 'No.' 'Tight end?' She grins. 'Tight end, absolutely.' 'I was a tight end,' he says. 'Me?' She freezes, won't answer. He leans in, whispers hot in her ear, one hand sliding down her belly. 'You promised if I guessed right.' 'It was me, huh?' The seduction seals. 'Yes! You!' She dives in, kisses him fierce, nips his lip. Rips his pants down fast, wraps her lips around his rock-hard cock, sucking eager. Miss Foxx might've been his top teacher, but today he's schooling her in raw, filthy pleasure.