Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Until common sense strikes me like a blow to the head. I can’t let Evie know I’ve seen her. This isn’t the time. So, gritting my teeth, I force my dick back in my pants. The bulge is so fucking painful, I’m not sure how I’m going to chaperone the rest of the night. But force it in I do, and with a yank of my zipper, I imprison the poor guy even as I stare at Evie’s round butt and gleaming pink bits, still dripping as she recovers from her orgasm.
I can’t let her know I’ve seen her enjoy herself. Not just yet. But I have plans for the sweet brunette because I’m no saint. No, I’m a teacher, and my favorite student is about to get a giant surprise.
CHAPTER THREE
Evie
Biology is my favorite subject, and it’s not just because I want to be pre-med. It’s because Stone Phillips, or Mr. Phillips as we call him, is an amazing instructor, making even the most difficult concepts seem cool. Just yesterday, in fact, we had a discussion in class about the biological makeup of humans.
“Everyone,” he’d said in that low growl of his. “What are we made of?”
A couple of students had yawned at that point, but a few girls had raised their hands, eager to get his attention.
“Mr. Phillips, we’re seventy-five percent water!” answered Hannah, a brainy brunette with glasses as thick as goggles.
“True, true,” he’d said thoughtfully, nodding. “What else?”
“We’re meat sacks,” called out some jock from the back, cackling at his own joke. “Just blood and guts waiting to spill out.”
Mr. Phillips had nodded at that one too.
“That’s right. Any other ideas?” he’d responded.
Slowly, I had raised my hand. Mr. Phillips’s deep blue eyes had turned toward me, and I’d shivered at the sensation. God, his gaze was so penetrating and arresting that I could hardly breathe, even though I tried not to show it.
“Are-are we made of dust?” I’d stuttered, cursing myself silently. “I mean, after we die and all, we become dust again, right?”
The smile Mr. Phillips flashed at my answer had taken my breath away.
“You’ve got it,” he’d said with casual assurance. “We are all stardust. Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust.”
You see, that’s the type of teacher Mr. Phillips is. “We are all stardust”? It’s a cheesy line, but oh, so romantic and totally true too. I guess when people die (or when any living organism dies), we become dust once again, and it’s the same dust that makes up the stars in the sky. So his proclamation that “we are all stardust” was not only poetic but true. And I love how he’d tied it in with the biblical passage “ashes to ashes.” His smarts make me tingle all over.
But yeah, Mr. Phillips isn’t just known for his smarts and his confidence in the classroom. He’s also known for his chiseled features and perfect bod, all of it displayed in khakis and a button-down most days. But his dad outfits can’t hide the perfect butt, the wide shoulders, and the broad chest that tapers to a narrow waist. He’s an Adonis come to life, and I’m not the only girl who has noticed.
There is always a throng of teenage hussies surrounding him. Every Kim, Laura, and Mary has tried to get his attention, and to get those magnetic blue eyes onto their bodies. It’s downright embarrassing sometimes seeing how my female classmates throw themselves at him.
Take Kim, for example. Today, as the bell rings to let the previous class out, the blonde rushes past everyone, battling against a stream of students, to shove her way to the front of the room. She plunks her books on a desk that’s front and center, and I can see why. She’s worn a tight white sweater that emphasizes every curve of her huge tits, the orbs bouncy and pendulous. Oh yeah, Mr. Phillips will get a good look at those girls today. How can he miss such a huge rack when it’s positioned right in front of him, its owner twirling her hair and making eyes while licking her pencil lasciviously?
But Stone is better than that. He strides out of his office and into the room, confident and casual, totally professional with his dark hair slightly ruffled. His eyes don’t even graze Kim’s chest. He doesn’t so much as bat an eye at that heart-stopping cleavage. Instead, our teacher smiles raffishly and flips open his lesson planner.
“We’re going to talk about DNA today,” he announces. “What are nucleotides?”
And believe or not, Mr. Phillips makes the discussion fascinating. An otherwise boring topic comes to life in the hands of our instructor. I’m picking up loads and loads of information so that I’ll be able to take the AP Biology exam at the end of the year even though this class isn’t actually an AP class. Mr. Phillips is just that good of a teacher. I know that with some extra study, I’ll be able to ace the test and get a jump on college while still in high school.