Cat and Mouse [SilverScar & sharpiie love]

[SilverScar]

Matthew looked out the window of his third storey classroom, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand, breakfast sandwich in the other. Bacon, lettuce and tomato between a freshly baked bagel. The perfect morning meal for a first day of classes. Taking a sip of his coffee, Matthew watched as the sun peaked out over the city, the clock behind him on the wall indicating he still had a good thirty minutes before his students were expected to show up. Taking a large bite of his bagel sandwich, the teacher chewed thoughtfully, taking his time to to enjoy the pleasant taste in his mouth, the bitter scent of his coffee wafting through the air. For someone who didn't actually have any experience teaching, he was surprisingly relaxed and calm. Perhaps it was his confidence, stone cold and ready to face the challenge of the day. More likely was that it was because he didn't expect he'd have any need to challenge himself.

They were all just rich kids, after all.

Saint Mary's Academy of Exceptional Learning was one of the most exclusive private schools in the country, serving the children of the rich and influential from around the world. It was a tall, black metal building, looking all sleek and modern on the outside with while emulating a more Greek architectural style on the interior with white marble pillars and archways in the halls. It was an odd mixture, as if the administration had just thrown a pile of money at the first designer that walked in the door. With climbing attendance records, according to the Headmaster, the clashing styles must not have mattered to the parents. Whatever it took to ensure their child got served the world on a silver platter.

Matthew's own style was much more traditional. A tall man himself, standing just over 6'3, his broad shoulders were draped in a dark blue suit, buttoned up at the front with a matching black tie perfectly tied around a white dress shirt that hugged tight against his muscular chest. Black dress pants and recently shined dress shoes completed the professional look. Clean shaven and black hair freshly cut, lips curved in a slight smirk, dark eyes sharp and attentive, Matthew was looking more like a company executive than an english teacher. In fact he had been, for a few years...but he'd left the corporate world behind now and found his way into teaching.

Marketing and teaching were close enough anyways.

Taking the last bite of his bagel, Matthew downed the rest of his sinful black coffee, tossing out the wrapper and cup before making his way over to his desk. The classroom was large, the walls lined with bookshelves filled with old, leather tomes. The students desks in the center were spaced out, unlike the cramped public schools, with network and power outlets at the base of each. Matthew's desk was a large, bulky wooden structure, the smoothed out dark oak feeling strong and firm. He didn't have much for decorations, his laptop in the center, a pair of trays for the students to hand in their homework and a plaque with his name 'Mister Matthew Goodman'. Pulling up the class list onto his laptop monitor, he leaned back in his soft leather chair and patiently waited for his students to arrive.

 

[sharpiie love]

Hearing the alarm go off to indicate that there were only thirty minutes left until classes began, Daveigh groaned. There was no way she wasn't going to end up late today. Not because she was only just waking up, the seventeen year old had been up for hours, but because she had been so busy getting her makeup just right that she hadn't even bothered with her hair yet let alone her having enough time to go get coffee from the student lounge. The question was, which one was more important? If she finished her hair she wouldn't have time for coffee and would probably be a wreck all day. If she got coffee she was going to have to just let her hair do its own thing which could be a godsend or a disaster.

Hoping that for once she was going to have a good hair day, Daveigh pulled her hair out of the ponytail she kept it in while she slept, brushing it out with her fingers and then shifting it until it fell in the slightest wave around her face. The ponytail had managed to give her volume without creasing her hair for once. "You are so damn lucky," she threatened her reflection giving herself a once over. Her traditional school uniform of plaid, pleated skirt had been rolled once - okay maybe twice - and lay brushing against her mid-thigh rather than right above her knee where it was intended to lay. She had donned the school's pressed white blouse, the white so startling clean that it made her platinum blonde hair stand out rather than fade in. She'd foregone the full length tie and decided instead to start the school year out with a neat little tie that crossed under her neck with a pearl pin. She'd decided on black heels for the day rather than some of her other choices. It wasn't late enough in the year for her to start worrying about the chill so she hadn't bothered with stockings and some of her shoes simply looked best with the stockings.

As she fluffed her hair again, the 5'6" teenager grabbed her purse and headed out of her dorm room towards the student center to get much needed coffee.

With coffee in hand twenty minutes later she began the trek up the stairs to her first class of the year. She'd heard a rumor that they were going to have a new teacher this year but nobody had seen him yet so she couldn't be sure. As she stepped off the final stair and into the hallway on the third floor she grinned as she saw that her friends had waited for her rather than walking in. It was something they'd always done, but she hadn't expected them to keep it up in light of a possible new teacher. "How do you always manage to look like a work of art on the first day of class?"

Daveigh's green eyes glittered with laughter as she reached her friends and shook her head. "I was totally rushing this morning. I almost didn't make it to get coffee," she said with a pout as she held up her large iced coffee for them to see. "Can you imagine?" The group moved forward as one to the classroom door and let themselves in. "Thank god you didn't miss out. We wouldn't want Lady Vanderbilt to have a bad day."

Daveigh's eyes rolled towards the ceiling at the petty remark from one of the school's - very few - scholarship students. Her last name wasn't Vanderbilt. She'd never even met the Vanderbilts. Her last name was Spencer but that didn't matter to some of the people in school once they found out just how much money her father had. The majority of the scholarship kids didn't believe that she belonged there and thought the only reason she'd been accepted was because of her father's money. While that may have been part of it, she was no slacker when it came to school either, as their new teacher would find out. When she put her mind to something, it got done. Period, end.

She turned around and noticed the number of girls already staring at their new teacher like they were about to drool and as she turned to look at him herself she could understand why. All of their teachers wore business clothes. Suits, pant suits, whatever the case may be, it was a given. But not a single one of them filled out their suit quite the way he did. Taking a seat to the right of his desk and in the second row she set her purse down and plugged in her laptop before setting her eyes on the handsome stranger at the front of their class. She was definitely glad she'd grabbed the coffee this morning

She wanted to be awake for every word that came out of that man's mouth.

 

[SilverScar]

It was about fifteen minutes before the start of class when the first wave of students walked in, the keen ones looking to get the exact seat they wanted. A few took seats in the middle, but a majority looked to take up the coveted back row, far from a teacher's prying eyes. In truth, Matthew wasn't looking to police his class with the strict guidelines that some of the other teachers used. After all, this was an institution that these students parents were paying to enroll them in. If they didn't respect that in these later years, no amount taking phones or detention was going to change them now. Some might call Matthew pessimistic for thinking like that, but he prefered to think of it as saving the students and himself allot of needless headaches.

As the clock ticked closer to eight, more and more students began to file in. Apparently he was expected to do roll call every morning, but today, he was going to skip it. The start of a new semester meant new beginnings, so he was going to given everyone a break. Once. Proper second chances were few and far between in the world, and as this would be many of these students final year before going off to whatever prestigious universities their parents had already planned for them, starting things off smoothly was a big deal. Especially when you were the new teacher in a school that seemed to have it's own way of doing things.

"Good morning class" Standing up from his seat, Matthew walked around the side of his desk and moved towards the door at the back, shutting it before making his way back to the front, speaking as he moved "My name is Mister Matthew Goodman. Normally at this point we would have roll call and those walked in late would be marked down as such...but today I'm giving everyone who came in late a break, because it's just the first day and I want us all to get along"

Giving the students a pleasant smile, Matthew picked up a pile of papers and began to walk around the class, handing them out "For today, I'm looking to start things off easy. I want you all to write me something. Anything. Could be a story, could be an essay, a letter, a description of your favorite food..."

One of the students caught his eye at that moment, a young woman with platinum blonde hair. Something about her...shaking it off, Matthew continued on as he explained the assignment "It doesn't have to be a certain length or written in a certain style. I just want to see how you all write, what I can offer you all through the year. And no, if you write a single line on the paper, you don't get to leave early"

A few groans at that, but for the most part it seemed like most of the students were at least willing to give it a try. They had a whole day of teacher speeches and lists of reports and assignments to go through. For his class, at least, Matthew wanted to give them something to do that didn't require mindless nodding and following along, something that would show him who were the ones that were their to learn, and who were the ones were looking to cruise on through his class.

"Any questions?"

 

[sharpiie love]

Mister Matthew Goodman.

Never once had the students had a teacher who introduced themselves in such a way. They had professors who demanded to be called such, doctors who wanted their title used, and every once in a while a few teachers who thought they would be cool and tell the students to use their first names would introduce themselves as Jack or Cy. Never had a teacher introduced himself as with both their first and last names. Almost as though he were allowing the students to use either of his names. Seventeen year old Daveigh Spencer was intrigued. Nearly as intrigued as she was with their assignment. He wanted them to write something. Anything. He didn't care what, he just wanted to know how they wrote.

Smiling softly to herself she doubted that he wanted to read anything she wanted to write to him at the moment, her mind short circuiting as she watched him move around, his muscles bunching under his clothes as he moved. But maybe she could get his attention without actually writing out that he was hot. Maybe she could think of a story or... the description of her favorite food. She would write to him to describe her favorite food. She would just make sure she wrote it to the best of her ability. She waited to see if anyone was going to have a question and then took out a pen and began writing.




A buzz sounds in the air and a shiver races up my spine. I haven't been this excited in years. My muscles bunch in anticipation as I move towards the door and open it, heat rushes through my body as I see what lays just past the door. Never have I been moments away from having something so meltingly delicious in my mouth. Only moments from now. I'm counting every second as it moves closer to my body. And then I have it. I'm never letting go.

I've found that the best way to enjoy this particular delicacy is while it's hot. Still fresh and able to melt the moment it touches my tongue. It's considered better than sex by many, though others say anyone who says that has never had very good sex. I must be in the former group of those who haven't had very good sex because I will tell you now that when my fork plunges completely into the most center only to pull back out and give me a taste of what's inside, I can't imagine sex ever being better.

Slowly, ever so gently, I bring the fork to my lips already so swollen from my teeth. As I close my lips over the fork, my tongue ghosts across the texture. Soft and hot. The taste sweet and yet bitter. Not unlike what sex tastes like. My eyes close in ecstasy and a soft moan vibrates across my vocal chords. In seventeen years never has a man tasted as good as a piece of warm raspberry chocolate cake. Though if you find one, make sure to send him my way. I would love to compare the two.




After finishing up her essay she signed her name at the top and stood up, her heels clicking softly on the floor as she made her way up to his desk. There was still some time before class let out so she smiled, innocent and the very opposite at the same time. "Here you go, sir," she said, her voice a mere whisper. "I hope you enjoy reading it. I'd love to know what you think of it." And then she turned around and walked back to her seat. She knew when to stop before one looked desperate, and she knew just how far to go to make the other person think she was interested.

She'd just never had the chance to test it out on a teacher.

 

[SilverScar]

So far so good. Matthew watched as his students began to write, some getting right to it with surprising intensity as their pencils flew across the page, while others took a more thoughtful approach, tapping their pencils on the desk or just gazing off as they considered what to write down. With his own notepad in front of him, Matthew began to take notes on his students the same way he'd take notes on clients during meetings. Since he didn't yet have any names to go with the faces, his findings were more of a general summary of the class mood, how many of them were listening to music, did many of them look bored...

It didn't take very long before papers began to be handed in, Matthew's notetaking set aside as he began to read and skim through the papers he was given. Most of them simply placed their paper onto his desk and walked off, flipping open cell phones or plugging in laptops but then she approached him. There was something to her walk, the click of her heels on the floor announcing her approach as Matthew glanced up. The girl with the platinum blonde hair, the one who'd drawn his attention before. She had a smile on her face, so innocent and pure that seemed to promise the opposite. Passing her paper to him, her whispered words teasing him with same sweetness of her smile, she walked back, his eyes following her for longer than they should have before Matthew's attention turned to the paper he'd been presented with.

So far, he'd read papers on fast cars, food recipes and plans for the future. A few childish writers seemed to think they would get a rise out of the new teacher with some poorly written erotica about past conquests that seemed to taken straight from pay-per-view porn. The paper from Daveigh Spencer, as it was signed neatly on top of the page, proved to be an exception, something she seemed to be making habit of doing. It wasn't a long paper, but the enticing nature of the three paragraphs had Matthew raising an eyebrow at the tone of it.

When Matthew applied for his position here, he'd told himself that there would be situations where his reactions would have to differ from his time marketing. Before, if a client passed you an erotic message, you'd meet them after work and sort things out. When a student sent you a message like this, you were supposed to report it. Right?

Nope.

Offering Daveigh a charming smile, he glanced at the clock and saw they still had a few minutes left. Flicking his pen open, he wrote a quick a quick note on Daveigh's paper, dark eyes locked on her as he slid the paper to the edge of his desk as the remainder of the students came up to hand in what they'd written as the bell for the next class rang. A simple phrase awaited Daveigh's gaze, if she wished to take a look at her paper, the letter's spelled out neatly in red ink for her eyes to see...

See Me After Class

 

[sharpiie love]

Packing all of her belongings away so she would be ready to go when the bell rang, she pulled her phone out and tapped in her new teacher's name to see if she could find out any information about the man who would be teaching them. Unfortunately he had a fairly common name and she wasn't able to truly pin down which articles were about him and which were about someone else but before she could get too frustrated the bell rang and she was forced to put her phone away. She slipped the sleek phone into her purse and stood up from her seat. Though she could have easily walked straight back to the door to leave she decided to follow the group of students making their way past his desk before heading towards the door.

She was only steps away from his desk when she saw the paper sitting on the edge of the desk with red writing. With another step she could make out her own handwriting on the paper and knew that he'd written something strictly for her. None of the other students had their papers sitting on the edge of his desk with red writing. He'd said that he was using them as a means of getting to know the students rather than as a graded assignment so she doubted that he was marking her down. The only thing she could think was that he didn't like her topic.

See Me After Class.

Four small words that could make or break a girl at the precarious age of seventeen. Luckily she had enough confidence in herself and her ability with the written word that his words didn't break her spirit the way they would have someone lower on the totem pole. Having read his words she flipped the paper over as she passed by but didn't stop at his desk. She wasn't going to give everyone something to talk about by staying after to talk to the teacher.

Instead she followed everyone out to the door, waiting until everyone was out of the room before she shut the door quietly, continuing not to bring attention to her actions. With the door firmly shut behind her she walked back over to the desk, clasping her hands together behind her back for a moment. "You wanted to see me, Mister Matthew Goodman?" she said, teasing him about the way he'd introduced himself.

 

[SilverScar]

The end of class couldn't seem to come fast enough. Watching like a hawk as Daveigh peeked at her paper, and the writing on it, before mulling about with the remaining group of students heading towards the door. Unlike the schoolboys that she might be used to having chase her tail, Matthew wasn't concerned with whether or not she decided to read his note. Technically, he hadn't handed her paper back to her so enforcing her to stay after class wasn't within his authoritative powers...but he had a feeling that little Miss Spencer would be intrigued enough to stay behind to figure out why he'd requested her wait.

Watching her linger at the back of the group, Matthew felt a satisfied smile spread across his face as Daveigh shut the door and walk back to the desk. This was all against school regulations, of course, as a meeting between a teacher and student was to be conducted with the door open, to prevent any student/teacher incidents. A quaint little rule, but one too easily broken. And besides, there was no incident here, Matthew just wished to speak to his talented young pupil about the work she'd submitted to him during class. It was important for a teacher to engage his students like this, to inform them about their work and how he personally felt about it.

Her little introduction was cute, using his full name in how he'd introduced himself at the beginning of class. She had a mouth on her, this one, a playfulness that was often quite dangerous when paired with the looks she had at such a young age. Seventeen or eighteen at most, Matthew was treading through dangerous water as he rose up from his desk chair, easily standing above Daveigh as he slowly made his way around his wide desk, keeping in a position where she'd be forced to look up at him and not the other way around.

"Miss Daveigh Spencer" Matthew greeted her, stopping just at the point of personal space for the two of them "I read your paper. A very enlightening read, and certainly one of the more engaging papers I've had the chance to read. I just felt the need to answer a question you posed in your paper..."

He leaned in then, breaking that barrier of personal space, his broad muscular form mere inches from her as Matthew spoke in a low, heated tone "You've clearly never had great sex"

Straightening himself back up, Matthew looked down upon Daveigh with his dark eyes gleaming, the silence of the empty classroom broken only by the sounds of students moving about in the hall outside "That was all, Miss Spencer" Her name caressing his lips as the words were spoken to her "You are now dismissed"