Confessions of a Dangerous Mind
Title: Confessions of a Dangerous Mind (Part 10)
Author: Ana
Pairing: Billie/Mike
Rating: NC-17
Notes: Oh my God! I just have to post this before something else happens. If I hadn't done so before was because I had to spend a few days in the Emergency Room due to an unfortunate incident with a bottle of sleeping pills. I have a lot to say, but I figure that what you may want to read is the actual chapter, so I'll just say thank you very much for bearing with me and all the accidents that I have gone through to write this story.
And by the way, have you seen the amazing fan art done by anarchy_at12. It is exactly like the mental image I had in my mind when writing this story. Just...thank you.
Now go ahead! And please comment to let me know what you thought of it.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
About a month ago, Principal Johnson had had some sort of moral epiphany that brought as a result a project to enhance John Swett High's academic level. I have to admit, this was a topic that was often discussed in most teacher's meetings because the often worry that students wouldn't have the necessary tools to start college; therefore, when we heard about the new changes the Principal intended to do in the general curriculum of the school, we all had a little hope.
Indeed, after reading it carefully, we all concluded that the theory of his project was absolutely brilliant, but I must say, easier read than done, and if I may add, utopic. The real problem was that Johnson seemed to think that the alternation of pedagogical methods would help develop the student's learning process, but in reality, it could only cause large amounts of paperwork piling up in our desks because of the total restructuration of the lessons for the course we needed to do.
Taking care of all this paperwork took time; a lot of time to be specific, and I had to spend countless hours locked up in my secluded office while attempting to plan a class about Emily Freaking Dickinson while outside, the rest of the day went away without leaving any kind of trace behind it, and let's just say that the analysis of pathetically thoughtful poems such as "Hope is the thing with feathers" was the very least of the issues dwelling around in my conscience.
Just as it had happened the last time I had attempted to get any work done, the majority of my thoughts were focused on certain green-eyed young man whose sensual spell I had recently fallen victim of. The said thoughts went from how pleasant and enjoyable it had been to have him close --near enough to taste his lips and take in his scent-- to how quickly all of this was happening, and especially the highly anticipated I love you that had me worrying about where this insane relationship was really going.
Anyway, all that I knew at the moment was that no matter how confusing and sickening this relationship was, I wanted more of it, and I definitely wanted more of him; therefore, once classes were over, I couldn't run fast enough to get out of my office and find him. But once again, I went through the entire school over and over again until I ran out of places to look for him.
Eventually, I gave up, and as I stood hopelessly in the middle of the parking lot, I stared at the empty spaces as if expecting he would appear magically out of nowhere, but there was no use. I finally got in my car and drove away while making up imaginary scenarios in which he might have found himself trapped in, either struggling with family matters or the always present menace of Christopher Matthews.
I guess that at some point, I actually started to believe that he was safe only while being around me when in reality I was the villain, the shallow monster who wanted nothing but to take advantage of the kid's good will. I have to recognize that in that moment, I wasn't willing to accept it. Oh, no! In that moment, for all I care, Billie was mine and it was my responsibility to love him and protect him the way no one had been able to do so before.
Specifically that day, I was quite looking forward to spend some more time alone with him for some reason, so I could get to know him a little bit better, get to know more about his story and especially, get some more of those sweet kisses only him and I could share. However, that afternoon, I ended up going home alone.
Fucking fantastic.
Ironically, loneliness had somehow managed to become something tedious and unbearable for once. This had never happened before; as I said, sex was pretty much all I needed to fulfill my need for human contact, but this time around I was not in control of my emotions anymore, let alone the knowledge of what I did need and what I didn't.
I dreamt about Billie Joe that night; just like the last time, we were making love in my bed again. This dream was precisely what convinced me that if I didn't get to see him soon, I would start to lose all sense of sanity I may have had left. You see, having to deal with the most annoying erection ever is not precisely part of a perfect morning. Eventually, after finally getting rid of it, I got up and went off to work. No sooner had I arrived to my office than I was informed that my boss had called all teachers for yet another improvised meeting about his goddamn academic curriculum.
Once in the Principal's office, I took my seat and remained silent, but my mind was surely somewhere else while I pretended to hear patiently as Johnson broke off with another tirade about holistic learning. I had never been one to mix work and personal affairs; however I kept thinking about my sweet, beautiful baby, and the more I tried to get him out of my mind, the more I realized it just could not be done. The day before, I folded the note he had left on my desk and saved it in my shirt pocket; needless to say, every time I remembered its content, my heart skipped a beat.
It took about two hours and a half until the annoyingly redundant meeting was finally over and everybody went for their respective classrooms, but Johnson still asked me to stay a little bit longer so he could show me some of his ideas for the compulsory readings that were to be added to the English curriculum. Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door; the sound brought us back to the present in time for the door to open as a large gentleman popped his head into the office.
"Good morning, Professors. May I come in?" the gentleman said cheerfully.
The minute I saw him, I had the odd feeling that there was something hidden behind his smile. However, there was another aspect of him that came to my attention and caused me an even stronger curiosity at once: maybe it was the way he moved, the way he looked, the pitch in his voice, or the mix of all these elements together, but there was something about him that seemed awfully familiar in spite of not having seen him once in my entire life. Luckily for me, the answer to this question came quicker than I had expected.
"Good morning, Mr. Armstrong! Please, come in and take a seat," Principal Johnson said respectfully.
My guts became a tight knot at once, right there in the spot. On the one hand, the impression of being face to face with this man had caught me completely out of guard, and on the other I started to worry even more about the fact that something bad might have happened to Billie Joe. It was then that I heard my boss saying, "This is Professor Pritchard, John Swett's best English teacher; I'm sure you two haven't met before."
We definitely hadn't, and without being fully recovered from the shock, I swallowed hard and adventured to speak; "Glad to meet you!"
"Same here, Mr. Pritchard."
"You're Billie Joe's father, I presume."
"You know my son?
"Do I know him? He's one of my most brilliant students, actually."
"Really?"
"Indeed; Billie has a natural knack for literature and writing. I've never quite graded essays like the ones he turns in." Besides the fact that he's hot as hell, I should have added.
"Thank you; I have heard that from his previous teachers too; although, I must say he inherited his intelligence from his mother; English was always her best subject too."
It was amazing how alike father and son were, yet what impressed me the most was that the same pain-filled hint remained present in both of their voices and features when they mentioned the name of that mysterious woman who had undoubtedly played a vital role in both of their lives. I hardly knew a thing or two about her from my talks with Billie, but it wasn't that difficult to assume that she was the main subject of this family's distress. I really couldn't help wondering about what could have happened to her in order to make them so miserable.
After our kind exchange of pleasantries, Principal Johnson asked me if we could finish discussing the topic of the readings at first hour next morning. I quickly took the opportunity to excuse myself and head for the door. I was actually relieved once I finally stepped out of the room and into the hallway. I directed towards the Teacher's Lounge to get myself a cup of steaming coffee along with some time alone, which was exactly what I needed at the moment. Unfortunately I didn't know that in reality, my problems were still far from coming to an end.
Turns out, when I was going back to my office, I ran into Billie Joe's father, Billie Joe's father out of all the people I wanted to avoid. I apologized nervously and attempted to walk away but he gently took my arm, "Wait, Mr. Pritchard, right?"
"Yes, sir. Hmmm, is there any way I can help you?" I could hardly fake a smile.
"Well, actually, I just wanted to let you know that Billie is staying with his grandparents in Oklahoma and he will be absent from school for about a month."
"Oh! Hmmm, okay." What? Really? Staying with his grandparents in Oklahoma? God, how I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs! What the fuck was I gonna do in a month? A lot of mixed emotions started rushing through me; however, there was nothing left to do except smile and act as if nothing was happening.
"Thanks so much for letting me know, Mr. Armstrong; I'll make sure to take note of it. Did you talk about this with Professor Johnson already?"
"Yes, I did. But actually, there's another thing I needed to discuss with you," the man said gently.
"Yes?"
"The Principal tells me you have been private tutoring my kid for a while now. And he also tells me that apparently, he also...talks to you, actually talks to you." The gentleman's voice started to tremble so slightly that it almost went unnoticed.
"Sir, would you like to discuss this somewhere more private?"
"It's okay; I promise not to take much of your time anyway."
Still fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve, Billie's father decided to go straight to the point. "I'm almost sure that by this time, you are aware of most of the problematic situation my family is going through at the moment."
"Yes, sir; I am."
"You know that his mother left us barely a year ago."
"Well, Billie did mention something about the matter."
"What you don't know is how bad it got. His grades dropped from excellent to average in less than a month; he started having nightmares every night and he was barely able to get any sleep. Then he started cutting his arms. The school counselor told me to take him to an specialist because he needed urgent help. I took him to a psychologist who diagnosed him with chronic depression and personality disorder, then sent him to a psychiatrist; the psychiatrist did nothing but give him a handful of ant depressives and sleeping pills that Billie wouldn't take because they made him feel even more stressed and upset than before. Nothing seemed to work! All of them doctors were about to give up on him."
"I know, sir."
"I was afraid he would never get better."
"Well, Billie is a very reserved kid, and he does have a strong personality."
"Just the fact that he agreed to go see his grandparents is really important to me; before this, he wouldn't even leave his room! My point here, Mr. Pritchard is... thank you."
"Oh, there's no need to do that, Mr. Armstrong."
"No, really; in only a few weeks you accomplished what all of us couldn't, and you managed to give me some hope in the process. I really do care about my boy; he's my only son and this entire situation with his mother was far from being his fault, yet I'm afraid the little one is getting the worse of it. You don't know how much it terrifies me that he might do something stupid. Billie already attempted suicide once."
I knew he was right, and there's nothing I wanted more than to tell him that I would often worry about the exact same thing, that I loved Billie with all my heart and that I would do anything to protect him, but how could I have said such thing? It was obvious that he didn't have a clue about what was going on between his son and me, luckily for me, but that made me feel ever guiltier for addressing him like any other honorable teacher would.
To top it all, I came up with the most ridiculous and inappropriate cliché I could have ever mustered as a response to his last sentence, "As your son's teacher, it's only to my obligation to do what I can to help him. Don't worry; we'll get him through this." Then I shook his hand respectfully.
Finally, Mr. Armstrong left with nothing but the wrong impression of me, the general impression the world have, or used to have about me, the same impression that worried me so much because of the possibility of Billie finding out who I actually was. I too left the school that day with a great deal of strange feelings revolving themselves inside my guts. I wondered when I would get any rest from this entire situation.
To find Chris Matthews sitting comfortably on the trunk of my car when I got to the teacher's parking lot didn't help much either and I growled in frustration as I came closer and closer to him. My head started to throb painfully as if I had developed some kind of allergic reaction towards the kid.
"What are you doing here, Matthews?" I said tiredly.
"Don't flatter yourself, Professor; the only reason I'm here is to tell you that I did what you told me."
"What on earth do you mean?"
"Armstrong's locker, I cleaned it. I won't come closer to the poor drama queen again."
"Really?"
"On one condition."
"Of course!" I quipped; this persistent brat wasn't going to miss any opportunity to screw me over.
Chris hoped off from my car and said solemnly, "I want us to be together one last time; then I will leave Armstrong alone."
"Matthews, what the hell are you talking about?"
"Is it that difficult to understand? You and I fuck one last time and then you decide whether you want to stay with me or go and be happy with the little bitch."
"You cannot be serious." Well, apparently he was. It was just rich how I had turned this pathetic homophobe into a gay sex lover.
"C'mon, baby, we used to have so much fun together. If you don't remember, at least give me the chance to refresh your memory." Chris said while trying to wrap his arms around me.
Any other day, I would have fall right into the trap; however, the mention of a particular word, baby, made me feel sick to my stomach at once and I impulsively shove the annoying jock away from me. "I feel sorry for you. I really do, Chris," I told him; he just stood there, arms crossed over his chest and a frown plastered on his face.
"What would your teammates say if they saw you like this, begging for sex like a cheap prostitute?"
"You know what, Professor Pritchard?" he said accusingly, "You're surely the stupidest man I have ever met. You can have me any time you want, so why do you prefer him?"
"Stop kidding yourself. Nothing ever happened between us and nothing ever will, nor will it happen with Billie Joe Armstrong. You're my students and I'm your teacher."
"Were you my teacher all those times I sucked you off in the janitor's room? What would happen if I cry 'rape'? What would everyone say?"
I laughed. "You have to be kidding me. Do you really think they're gonna believe you?"
"There's gonna be an investigation nonetheless, and when they find our pictures in your house, I bet you will have another thing coming."
"Oh, Chris; even if those pictures existed, would you really want them to be seen?"
He looked down. I had him trapped and he knew it.
"Whatever you say, it's my word against yours; the word of a long time experience professor with an irreproachable conduct against the word of a troublemaker whose parents have to pay for his grades in order for him not to get thrown out of school."
Chris was speechless, but that always present smirk that was a clear characteristic of his face remained immaculately still on his lips. "Maybe we'll have to wait and see what happens," he retorted finally.
"Fine by me! You don't know how much I'd like to see you try and call out on me. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to go home and take a long, relaxing bath."
I got into my car, placed the key in the ignition and pressed the speed pedal.
***
Two entire weeks went by before keeping myself busy at school stopped working and I really started to miss Billie Joe.
My colleagues were also charged with work, so whenever I finished mine, I would often offer to give them a hand, including Principal Johnson, to whom I ended up becoming some kind of personal consultant. I would also meet up with Professor Green almost every afternoon to have a drink or two at the local bar.
In short, I arranged my schedule in such a way that I hardly had any spare time to even think, and by the end of the day I would be so tired and beaten up that I'd fell asleep before my body hit the bed. However, there was always something missing; I felt sort of...empty.
In spite of all the activities I had taken up in the last couple of weeks, it seemed like there was always an instant or two in which my mind would wander to all those moments we had shared together. It's only a month, I kept repeating to myself over and over again until that phrase became void of any sense. So many issues had remained unsolved that I really didn't know how much longer I would be able to avoid the fact that I missed him like crazy.
How was it possible? When did it happen? How could I have lost my self-control so easily? I finally came to a conclusion: the answer to all of those questions and the ones that kept on coming didn't really matter; at some point I would have to admit that I had undoubtedly fallen in love with my sixteen year old student.
But then, there was this one day at the office when I was too focused on grading some essays originally turned in to Professor Williams, the History teacher. All of a sudden, there were incredibly loud knocks on my door, and I looked up, startled.
Bang, bang, bang...
"Come in!" I repeated three times, but the person outside wouldn't stop knocking. My heart started racing as I stood from my chair and walked slowly towards the door. As soon as I turned the handle, my baby entered suddenly into my office and smashed the door shut before quickly jumping to my arms. "Hi!" he screamed happily before giving my nose a quick peck and embracing me tightly.
The only functioning limbs of my body were my arms, which luckily managed to catch Billie as he threw himself at me. My voice, on the other hand, refused to come out as I shook my head in disbelief. I stuttered a few incoherent phrases and Billie just stared at me with that gorgeous smile that I had missed so much, not even trying to refrain from showing the amusement my surprise was causing him.
Giggling delicately, he tightened the grip his legs had around my waist as he spoke "Mike...you don't know how glad I am to be back."
"I-I thought you were supposed to spend-..."
"What? A whole month away from you? No way!"
"But how did you-..?"
"Does it really matter? I just wanted to get back and-... Didn't you miss me?" Billie asked with a hint of disappointment in his tone.
Words were just not enough to express how much I had needed him those past weeks. To have him in my arms was just about enough to send me over the edge. I placed him gently on top of my desk and grabbed his face; then I looked deep into those green pools that were staring back at me with the most expectant innocence I hadn't really appreciated until then, and gently pressed a kiss to his lips, feeling immediately how his chest swelled with anticipation.
I instantly backed down. "Is it something wrong?"
"No! Nothing at all! It's just that...this is still so new for me, that I still feel butterflies in my stomach whenever you're near me. Can we try again?"
"Come here," I said before brushing his luscious lips with my impatient mouth; his legs parted a bit more to allow an even more intimate closeness between us and his arms enclosed around my shoulders. We finally engaged in a deep, wet kiss that left us both moaning and wishing for more. God, if we hadn't been at school, I would have taken him to my bedroom and show him a proper make-out session, but eventually, we had to stop.
"Does that answer your initial question?" I asked smugly.
"I guess you did miss me," Billie Joe let out a cute giggle before his legs dropped down to the floor again. It was then that the intercom started buzzing annoyingly and the sharp voice of Johnson's secretary commanded me to go straight to his office. Apparently, the Principal needed urgent help with some kind of trivial matter.
"I have to take that. You should go to class too, baby."
"Fine, but we'll go to your place later, right?"
I smiled sweetly at him and nodded; apparently, that kiss had him going as much as it did me. "Great! I can't wait to be alone with you again," he pecked me swiftly, then left me alone with my thoughts.
School day finished, I walked eagerly towards the exit through the hallways of John Swett High, sorting students here and there. Billie was already there, leaning on the wall beside the fire alarm; he winked at me and bit his lower lip briefly as he stood up and crossed the school door, undoubtedly heading for my car at the parking lot. We exchanged shy smiles and headed home in silence.
***
"I want us to do something fun tonight." Billie mused as we entered home and he started taking off my jacket. I raised an eyebrow skeptically as I watched his actions in order to make him realize the double sense present in what he was just saying to me.
"Not that..." Billie blushed and looked away, "At least not yet."
"Hmmm, Billie?"
He dedicated me a shy smirk.
"What do you say we arrange some sort of romantic dinner?" he wriggled his small hips excitedly after having jumped onto the living room leather couch. I couldn't suppress a small giggle. "What do you mean with romantic dinner? You want to dine out?"
"Actually, I was thinking we could cook pasta a la blolognesa and open a bottle of red wine. We might put roses on a small base and light up some candles too. We might even have strawberries with chocolate for dessert, and-..."
"Billie! Billie!" I laughed "One idea per minute please. All this sounds real beautiful and all, but-..."
"Please?"
"Well, how can I say no to you?"
Billie's eyes lit up. We came closer and share a small kiss. Of course, we needed to get back into the car and drive to the farthest supermarket we could find to buy all we needed for our romantic dinner, but I have to admit that he was worth it. We ended up loading the supermarket car with all kind of objects and food that came across our way. At some point I lifted Billie Joe and loaded him in as well. The great thing about being so far away from our neighborhood was that we could easily hold hands, tickle each other, share kisses and hugs without attracting any unwanted attention.
Once in the kitchen, he proved to be a great chef; his mother had done an amazing job teaching him how to cook, he said. I thought it might be a good opportunity to ask him about the matter, or at least tell him that his father had come by the school or anything, but I really didn’t want to take that risk. To put him in a bad mood was the least I wanted, and I eventually decided it was just not the occasion to talk about it.
It took us a great amount of work to put everything together, but once the room was lit up with nothing but candles and the table was set with white roses, two porcelain plates and a bottle of red wine, we sat across each other and sighed deeply, not really knowing whether this was incredibly tender, or just incredibly stupid.
Having finished our dinner, Billie offered me one of those irresistible smiles I already loved so much, and I started to wonder what he was up to now; my answer came sooner that I had expected. "May I have a glass of wine?" he asked delicately.
"No, you may not! I don't want any illegal drinking in my house!"
"But I'm almost 17!" he pouted; the way his bottom lip contorted never failed to amused me.
"Billie, I told you once and I tell you now, you can't have alcohol."
"I can, and I will."
Billie wasn’t joking by any means; he stood up and came to sit on my lap. Facing the table, he poured a great amount of the red liquid in my own glass, took a sip, and then turned to me. "See?"
"You little brat," I told him jokingly while placing my hands on his hips. The back of his neck was right in front of my mouth and before I knew it, I had attached my lips to it and my teeth soon started nibbling at his tender skin. Billie squirmed with delight before closing his eyes and putting his wine away. "Mike," he purred, "that feels...really nice..."
I just couldn't seem to stop; Billie spread his legs and leaned on even more against my awaiting body once again to avoid falling down from the chair. Then I watched as skilled little fingers unbuttoned Billie's white shirt a little as an open invitation for me to caress his smooth chest. "I want to tell you a secret," he said while guiding my fingers straight to his hardening nipples.
"Go ahead."
My young lover started giggling shamelessly as I ran my tongue along his goose-bump filled skin. "Well...it's a little embarrassing."
"C'mon, baby; just tell me."
"Well...I really missed you when I was at my grandparents' house."
"You did?"
"Yeah; in fact I missed you so much that I kind of..."
"Yes?"
"It's something dirty."
"Just say it."
"I touched myself while thinking of you."
"You what?"
The mere mention of that was enough to make my dick diamond hard inside my pants. Billie Joe was no innocent in this matter; the kid knew perfectly well what he was doing to me, and what finally came to prove it was the way he began grinding his little ass against my lap. "I kept imagining it was your hand instead of mine while I was doing it," he paused a moment. "What I'm trying to get at, Mike, is... I want you to touch me for real...you know...down there."
There was no time for me to think about that blunt statement; my body appeared to have gained a mind on its own; Billie's words had had quite a great effect on me and my hands could not help but slid downwards, slow and carefully as my fingertips ran through each and every single inch of my baby's stomach. I finally reached my destination; Billie's breath caught up in his throat as I unbuttoned his pants and let my right hand into the frontal opening of his boxers.
His whole body arched up as the first contact was made; I pumped steadily one, two, three times before Billie Joe bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and smashed his head against my shoulder, seeking hungrily my mouth. Next thing that followed was his sensual lips kissing mine as my hand moved up and down his erection, fingers enclosing occasionally around the base to increase pleasure.
By then, I'm proud to say that I had Billie moaning loudly as I sped up my rhythm. Sometimes I can still feel his arms around my neck, his body shaking wildly as the first spasms of an upcoming orgasm started to form in his gut. He pleaded me not to stop and that is exactly what I gave him. As we kept on moving at an ever quicker pace, my own dick rubbing up against my young lover's clothed ass, Billie started thrusting into my grip, screaming my name repeatedly. Indeed, it wasn't long before I felt Billie's come splashing against the fabric of his boxers, as well as mine sinking through my trousers. We had undoubtedly made a tremendous mess, but definitely a beautiful one.
It took a little while before our breathing rhythm could go back to normal, but eventually, we sighed contently and snuggle against each other. “Let’s go to your bed and lie down for a bit,” he whispered…
***END OF PART 10***
More than 5000 words cuz I made you wait long enough. Finally an NC-17 with this story!
Author: Ana
Pairing: Billie/Mike
Rating: NC-17
Notes: Oh my God! I just have to post this before something else happens. If I hadn't done so before was because I had to spend a few days in the Emergency Room due to an unfortunate incident with a bottle of sleeping pills. I have a lot to say, but I figure that what you may want to read is the actual chapter, so I'll just say thank you very much for bearing with me and all the accidents that I have gone through to write this story.
And by the way, have you seen the amazing fan art done by anarchy_at12. It is exactly like the mental image I had in my mind when writing this story. Just...thank you.
Now go ahead! And please comment to let me know what you thought of it.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
About a month ago, Principal Johnson had had some sort of moral epiphany that brought as a result a project to enhance John Swett High's academic level. I have to admit, this was a topic that was often discussed in most teacher's meetings because the often worry that students wouldn't have the necessary tools to start college; therefore, when we heard about the new changes the Principal intended to do in the general curriculum of the school, we all had a little hope.
Indeed, after reading it carefully, we all concluded that the theory of his project was absolutely brilliant, but I must say, easier read than done, and if I may add, utopic. The real problem was that Johnson seemed to think that the alternation of pedagogical methods would help develop the student's learning process, but in reality, it could only cause large amounts of paperwork piling up in our desks because of the total restructuration of the lessons for the course we needed to do.
Taking care of all this paperwork took time; a lot of time to be specific, and I had to spend countless hours locked up in my secluded office while attempting to plan a class about Emily Freaking Dickinson while outside, the rest of the day went away without leaving any kind of trace behind it, and let's just say that the analysis of pathetically thoughtful poems such as "Hope is the thing with feathers" was the very least of the issues dwelling around in my conscience.
Just as it had happened the last time I had attempted to get any work done, the majority of my thoughts were focused on certain green-eyed young man whose sensual spell I had recently fallen victim of. The said thoughts went from how pleasant and enjoyable it had been to have him close --near enough to taste his lips and take in his scent-- to how quickly all of this was happening, and especially the highly anticipated I love you that had me worrying about where this insane relationship was really going.
Anyway, all that I knew at the moment was that no matter how confusing and sickening this relationship was, I wanted more of it, and I definitely wanted more of him; therefore, once classes were over, I couldn't run fast enough to get out of my office and find him. But once again, I went through the entire school over and over again until I ran out of places to look for him.
Eventually, I gave up, and as I stood hopelessly in the middle of the parking lot, I stared at the empty spaces as if expecting he would appear magically out of nowhere, but there was no use. I finally got in my car and drove away while making up imaginary scenarios in which he might have found himself trapped in, either struggling with family matters or the always present menace of Christopher Matthews.
I guess that at some point, I actually started to believe that he was safe only while being around me when in reality I was the villain, the shallow monster who wanted nothing but to take advantage of the kid's good will. I have to recognize that in that moment, I wasn't willing to accept it. Oh, no! In that moment, for all I care, Billie was mine and it was my responsibility to love him and protect him the way no one had been able to do so before.
Specifically that day, I was quite looking forward to spend some more time alone with him for some reason, so I could get to know him a little bit better, get to know more about his story and especially, get some more of those sweet kisses only him and I could share. However, that afternoon, I ended up going home alone.
Fucking fantastic.
Ironically, loneliness had somehow managed to become something tedious and unbearable for once. This had never happened before; as I said, sex was pretty much all I needed to fulfill my need for human contact, but this time around I was not in control of my emotions anymore, let alone the knowledge of what I did need and what I didn't.
I dreamt about Billie Joe that night; just like the last time, we were making love in my bed again. This dream was precisely what convinced me that if I didn't get to see him soon, I would start to lose all sense of sanity I may have had left. You see, having to deal with the most annoying erection ever is not precisely part of a perfect morning. Eventually, after finally getting rid of it, I got up and went off to work. No sooner had I arrived to my office than I was informed that my boss had called all teachers for yet another improvised meeting about his goddamn academic curriculum.
Once in the Principal's office, I took my seat and remained silent, but my mind was surely somewhere else while I pretended to hear patiently as Johnson broke off with another tirade about holistic learning. I had never been one to mix work and personal affairs; however I kept thinking about my sweet, beautiful baby, and the more I tried to get him out of my mind, the more I realized it just could not be done. The day before, I folded the note he had left on my desk and saved it in my shirt pocket; needless to say, every time I remembered its content, my heart skipped a beat.
It took about two hours and a half until the annoyingly redundant meeting was finally over and everybody went for their respective classrooms, but Johnson still asked me to stay a little bit longer so he could show me some of his ideas for the compulsory readings that were to be added to the English curriculum. Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door; the sound brought us back to the present in time for the door to open as a large gentleman popped his head into the office.
"Good morning, Professors. May I come in?" the gentleman said cheerfully.
The minute I saw him, I had the odd feeling that there was something hidden behind his smile. However, there was another aspect of him that came to my attention and caused me an even stronger curiosity at once: maybe it was the way he moved, the way he looked, the pitch in his voice, or the mix of all these elements together, but there was something about him that seemed awfully familiar in spite of not having seen him once in my entire life. Luckily for me, the answer to this question came quicker than I had expected.
"Good morning, Mr. Armstrong! Please, come in and take a seat," Principal Johnson said respectfully.
My guts became a tight knot at once, right there in the spot. On the one hand, the impression of being face to face with this man had caught me completely out of guard, and on the other I started to worry even more about the fact that something bad might have happened to Billie Joe. It was then that I heard my boss saying, "This is Professor Pritchard, John Swett's best English teacher; I'm sure you two haven't met before."
We definitely hadn't, and without being fully recovered from the shock, I swallowed hard and adventured to speak; "Glad to meet you!"
"Same here, Mr. Pritchard."
"You're Billie Joe's father, I presume."
"You know my son?
"Do I know him? He's one of my most brilliant students, actually."
"Really?"
"Indeed; Billie has a natural knack for literature and writing. I've never quite graded essays like the ones he turns in." Besides the fact that he's hot as hell, I should have added.
"Thank you; I have heard that from his previous teachers too; although, I must say he inherited his intelligence from his mother; English was always her best subject too."
It was amazing how alike father and son were, yet what impressed me the most was that the same pain-filled hint remained present in both of their voices and features when they mentioned the name of that mysterious woman who had undoubtedly played a vital role in both of their lives. I hardly knew a thing or two about her from my talks with Billie, but it wasn't that difficult to assume that she was the main subject of this family's distress. I really couldn't help wondering about what could have happened to her in order to make them so miserable.
After our kind exchange of pleasantries, Principal Johnson asked me if we could finish discussing the topic of the readings at first hour next morning. I quickly took the opportunity to excuse myself and head for the door. I was actually relieved once I finally stepped out of the room and into the hallway. I directed towards the Teacher's Lounge to get myself a cup of steaming coffee along with some time alone, which was exactly what I needed at the moment. Unfortunately I didn't know that in reality, my problems were still far from coming to an end.
Turns out, when I was going back to my office, I ran into Billie Joe's father, Billie Joe's father out of all the people I wanted to avoid. I apologized nervously and attempted to walk away but he gently took my arm, "Wait, Mr. Pritchard, right?"
"Yes, sir. Hmmm, is there any way I can help you?" I could hardly fake a smile.
"Well, actually, I just wanted to let you know that Billie is staying with his grandparents in Oklahoma and he will be absent from school for about a month."
"Oh! Hmmm, okay." What? Really? Staying with his grandparents in Oklahoma? God, how I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs! What the fuck was I gonna do in a month? A lot of mixed emotions started rushing through me; however, there was nothing left to do except smile and act as if nothing was happening.
"Thanks so much for letting me know, Mr. Armstrong; I'll make sure to take note of it. Did you talk about this with Professor Johnson already?"
"Yes, I did. But actually, there's another thing I needed to discuss with you," the man said gently.
"Yes?"
"The Principal tells me you have been private tutoring my kid for a while now. And he also tells me that apparently, he also...talks to you, actually talks to you." The gentleman's voice started to tremble so slightly that it almost went unnoticed.
"Sir, would you like to discuss this somewhere more private?"
"It's okay; I promise not to take much of your time anyway."
Still fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve, Billie's father decided to go straight to the point. "I'm almost sure that by this time, you are aware of most of the problematic situation my family is going through at the moment."
"Yes, sir; I am."
"You know that his mother left us barely a year ago."
"Well, Billie did mention something about the matter."
"What you don't know is how bad it got. His grades dropped from excellent to average in less than a month; he started having nightmares every night and he was barely able to get any sleep. Then he started cutting his arms. The school counselor told me to take him to an specialist because he needed urgent help. I took him to a psychologist who diagnosed him with chronic depression and personality disorder, then sent him to a psychiatrist; the psychiatrist did nothing but give him a handful of ant depressives and sleeping pills that Billie wouldn't take because they made him feel even more stressed and upset than before. Nothing seemed to work! All of them doctors were about to give up on him."
"I know, sir."
"I was afraid he would never get better."
"Well, Billie is a very reserved kid, and he does have a strong personality."
"Just the fact that he agreed to go see his grandparents is really important to me; before this, he wouldn't even leave his room! My point here, Mr. Pritchard is... thank you."
"Oh, there's no need to do that, Mr. Armstrong."
"No, really; in only a few weeks you accomplished what all of us couldn't, and you managed to give me some hope in the process. I really do care about my boy; he's my only son and this entire situation with his mother was far from being his fault, yet I'm afraid the little one is getting the worse of it. You don't know how much it terrifies me that he might do something stupid. Billie already attempted suicide once."
I knew he was right, and there's nothing I wanted more than to tell him that I would often worry about the exact same thing, that I loved Billie with all my heart and that I would do anything to protect him, but how could I have said such thing? It was obvious that he didn't have a clue about what was going on between his son and me, luckily for me, but that made me feel ever guiltier for addressing him like any other honorable teacher would.
To top it all, I came up with the most ridiculous and inappropriate cliché I could have ever mustered as a response to his last sentence, "As your son's teacher, it's only to my obligation to do what I can to help him. Don't worry; we'll get him through this." Then I shook his hand respectfully.
Finally, Mr. Armstrong left with nothing but the wrong impression of me, the general impression the world have, or used to have about me, the same impression that worried me so much because of the possibility of Billie finding out who I actually was. I too left the school that day with a great deal of strange feelings revolving themselves inside my guts. I wondered when I would get any rest from this entire situation.
To find Chris Matthews sitting comfortably on the trunk of my car when I got to the teacher's parking lot didn't help much either and I growled in frustration as I came closer and closer to him. My head started to throb painfully as if I had developed some kind of allergic reaction towards the kid.
"What are you doing here, Matthews?" I said tiredly.
"Don't flatter yourself, Professor; the only reason I'm here is to tell you that I did what you told me."
"What on earth do you mean?"
"Armstrong's locker, I cleaned it. I won't come closer to the poor drama queen again."
"Really?"
"On one condition."
"Of course!" I quipped; this persistent brat wasn't going to miss any opportunity to screw me over.
Chris hoped off from my car and said solemnly, "I want us to be together one last time; then I will leave Armstrong alone."
"Matthews, what the hell are you talking about?"
"Is it that difficult to understand? You and I fuck one last time and then you decide whether you want to stay with me or go and be happy with the little bitch."
"You cannot be serious." Well, apparently he was. It was just rich how I had turned this pathetic homophobe into a gay sex lover.
"C'mon, baby, we used to have so much fun together. If you don't remember, at least give me the chance to refresh your memory." Chris said while trying to wrap his arms around me.
Any other day, I would have fall right into the trap; however, the mention of a particular word, baby, made me feel sick to my stomach at once and I impulsively shove the annoying jock away from me. "I feel sorry for you. I really do, Chris," I told him; he just stood there, arms crossed over his chest and a frown plastered on his face.
"What would your teammates say if they saw you like this, begging for sex like a cheap prostitute?"
"You know what, Professor Pritchard?" he said accusingly, "You're surely the stupidest man I have ever met. You can have me any time you want, so why do you prefer him?"
"Stop kidding yourself. Nothing ever happened between us and nothing ever will, nor will it happen with Billie Joe Armstrong. You're my students and I'm your teacher."
"Were you my teacher all those times I sucked you off in the janitor's room? What would happen if I cry 'rape'? What would everyone say?"
I laughed. "You have to be kidding me. Do you really think they're gonna believe you?"
"There's gonna be an investigation nonetheless, and when they find our pictures in your house, I bet you will have another thing coming."
"Oh, Chris; even if those pictures existed, would you really want them to be seen?"
He looked down. I had him trapped and he knew it.
"Whatever you say, it's my word against yours; the word of a long time experience professor with an irreproachable conduct against the word of a troublemaker whose parents have to pay for his grades in order for him not to get thrown out of school."
Chris was speechless, but that always present smirk that was a clear characteristic of his face remained immaculately still on his lips. "Maybe we'll have to wait and see what happens," he retorted finally.
"Fine by me! You don't know how much I'd like to see you try and call out on me. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to go home and take a long, relaxing bath."
I got into my car, placed the key in the ignition and pressed the speed pedal.
***
Two entire weeks went by before keeping myself busy at school stopped working and I really started to miss Billie Joe.
My colleagues were also charged with work, so whenever I finished mine, I would often offer to give them a hand, including Principal Johnson, to whom I ended up becoming some kind of personal consultant. I would also meet up with Professor Green almost every afternoon to have a drink or two at the local bar.
In short, I arranged my schedule in such a way that I hardly had any spare time to even think, and by the end of the day I would be so tired and beaten up that I'd fell asleep before my body hit the bed. However, there was always something missing; I felt sort of...empty.
In spite of all the activities I had taken up in the last couple of weeks, it seemed like there was always an instant or two in which my mind would wander to all those moments we had shared together. It's only a month, I kept repeating to myself over and over again until that phrase became void of any sense. So many issues had remained unsolved that I really didn't know how much longer I would be able to avoid the fact that I missed him like crazy.
How was it possible? When did it happen? How could I have lost my self-control so easily? I finally came to a conclusion: the answer to all of those questions and the ones that kept on coming didn't really matter; at some point I would have to admit that I had undoubtedly fallen in love with my sixteen year old student.
But then, there was this one day at the office when I was too focused on grading some essays originally turned in to Professor Williams, the History teacher. All of a sudden, there were incredibly loud knocks on my door, and I looked up, startled.
Bang, bang, bang...
"Come in!" I repeated three times, but the person outside wouldn't stop knocking. My heart started racing as I stood from my chair and walked slowly towards the door. As soon as I turned the handle, my baby entered suddenly into my office and smashed the door shut before quickly jumping to my arms. "Hi!" he screamed happily before giving my nose a quick peck and embracing me tightly.
The only functioning limbs of my body were my arms, which luckily managed to catch Billie as he threw himself at me. My voice, on the other hand, refused to come out as I shook my head in disbelief. I stuttered a few incoherent phrases and Billie just stared at me with that gorgeous smile that I had missed so much, not even trying to refrain from showing the amusement my surprise was causing him.
Giggling delicately, he tightened the grip his legs had around my waist as he spoke "Mike...you don't know how glad I am to be back."
"I-I thought you were supposed to spend-..."
"What? A whole month away from you? No way!"
"But how did you-..?"
"Does it really matter? I just wanted to get back and-... Didn't you miss me?" Billie asked with a hint of disappointment in his tone.
Words were just not enough to express how much I had needed him those past weeks. To have him in my arms was just about enough to send me over the edge. I placed him gently on top of my desk and grabbed his face; then I looked deep into those green pools that were staring back at me with the most expectant innocence I hadn't really appreciated until then, and gently pressed a kiss to his lips, feeling immediately how his chest swelled with anticipation.
I instantly backed down. "Is it something wrong?"
"No! Nothing at all! It's just that...this is still so new for me, that I still feel butterflies in my stomach whenever you're near me. Can we try again?"
"Come here," I said before brushing his luscious lips with my impatient mouth; his legs parted a bit more to allow an even more intimate closeness between us and his arms enclosed around my shoulders. We finally engaged in a deep, wet kiss that left us both moaning and wishing for more. God, if we hadn't been at school, I would have taken him to my bedroom and show him a proper make-out session, but eventually, we had to stop.
"Does that answer your initial question?" I asked smugly.
"I guess you did miss me," Billie Joe let out a cute giggle before his legs dropped down to the floor again. It was then that the intercom started buzzing annoyingly and the sharp voice of Johnson's secretary commanded me to go straight to his office. Apparently, the Principal needed urgent help with some kind of trivial matter.
"I have to take that. You should go to class too, baby."
"Fine, but we'll go to your place later, right?"
I smiled sweetly at him and nodded; apparently, that kiss had him going as much as it did me. "Great! I can't wait to be alone with you again," he pecked me swiftly, then left me alone with my thoughts.
School day finished, I walked eagerly towards the exit through the hallways of John Swett High, sorting students here and there. Billie was already there, leaning on the wall beside the fire alarm; he winked at me and bit his lower lip briefly as he stood up and crossed the school door, undoubtedly heading for my car at the parking lot. We exchanged shy smiles and headed home in silence.
***
"I want us to do something fun tonight." Billie mused as we entered home and he started taking off my jacket. I raised an eyebrow skeptically as I watched his actions in order to make him realize the double sense present in what he was just saying to me.
"Not that..." Billie blushed and looked away, "At least not yet."
"Hmmm, Billie?"
He dedicated me a shy smirk.
"What do you say we arrange some sort of romantic dinner?" he wriggled his small hips excitedly after having jumped onto the living room leather couch. I couldn't suppress a small giggle. "What do you mean with romantic dinner? You want to dine out?"
"Actually, I was thinking we could cook pasta a la blolognesa and open a bottle of red wine. We might put roses on a small base and light up some candles too. We might even have strawberries with chocolate for dessert, and-..."
"Billie! Billie!" I laughed "One idea per minute please. All this sounds real beautiful and all, but-..."
"Please?"
"Well, how can I say no to you?"
Billie's eyes lit up. We came closer and share a small kiss. Of course, we needed to get back into the car and drive to the farthest supermarket we could find to buy all we needed for our romantic dinner, but I have to admit that he was worth it. We ended up loading the supermarket car with all kind of objects and food that came across our way. At some point I lifted Billie Joe and loaded him in as well. The great thing about being so far away from our neighborhood was that we could easily hold hands, tickle each other, share kisses and hugs without attracting any unwanted attention.
Once in the kitchen, he proved to be a great chef; his mother had done an amazing job teaching him how to cook, he said. I thought it might be a good opportunity to ask him about the matter, or at least tell him that his father had come by the school or anything, but I really didn’t want to take that risk. To put him in a bad mood was the least I wanted, and I eventually decided it was just not the occasion to talk about it.
It took us a great amount of work to put everything together, but once the room was lit up with nothing but candles and the table was set with white roses, two porcelain plates and a bottle of red wine, we sat across each other and sighed deeply, not really knowing whether this was incredibly tender, or just incredibly stupid.
Having finished our dinner, Billie offered me one of those irresistible smiles I already loved so much, and I started to wonder what he was up to now; my answer came sooner that I had expected. "May I have a glass of wine?" he asked delicately.
"No, you may not! I don't want any illegal drinking in my house!"
"But I'm almost 17!" he pouted; the way his bottom lip contorted never failed to amused me.
"Billie, I told you once and I tell you now, you can't have alcohol."
"I can, and I will."
Billie wasn’t joking by any means; he stood up and came to sit on my lap. Facing the table, he poured a great amount of the red liquid in my own glass, took a sip, and then turned to me. "See?"
"You little brat," I told him jokingly while placing my hands on his hips. The back of his neck was right in front of my mouth and before I knew it, I had attached my lips to it and my teeth soon started nibbling at his tender skin. Billie squirmed with delight before closing his eyes and putting his wine away. "Mike," he purred, "that feels...really nice..."
I just couldn't seem to stop; Billie spread his legs and leaned on even more against my awaiting body once again to avoid falling down from the chair. Then I watched as skilled little fingers unbuttoned Billie's white shirt a little as an open invitation for me to caress his smooth chest. "I want to tell you a secret," he said while guiding my fingers straight to his hardening nipples.
"Go ahead."
My young lover started giggling shamelessly as I ran my tongue along his goose-bump filled skin. "Well...it's a little embarrassing."
"C'mon, baby; just tell me."
"Well...I really missed you when I was at my grandparents' house."
"You did?"
"Yeah; in fact I missed you so much that I kind of..."
"Yes?"
"It's something dirty."
"Just say it."
"I touched myself while thinking of you."
"You what?"
The mere mention of that was enough to make my dick diamond hard inside my pants. Billie Joe was no innocent in this matter; the kid knew perfectly well what he was doing to me, and what finally came to prove it was the way he began grinding his little ass against my lap. "I kept imagining it was your hand instead of mine while I was doing it," he paused a moment. "What I'm trying to get at, Mike, is... I want you to touch me for real...you know...down there."
There was no time for me to think about that blunt statement; my body appeared to have gained a mind on its own; Billie's words had had quite a great effect on me and my hands could not help but slid downwards, slow and carefully as my fingertips ran through each and every single inch of my baby's stomach. I finally reached my destination; Billie's breath caught up in his throat as I unbuttoned his pants and let my right hand into the frontal opening of his boxers.
His whole body arched up as the first contact was made; I pumped steadily one, two, three times before Billie Joe bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and smashed his head against my shoulder, seeking hungrily my mouth. Next thing that followed was his sensual lips kissing mine as my hand moved up and down his erection, fingers enclosing occasionally around the base to increase pleasure.
By then, I'm proud to say that I had Billie moaning loudly as I sped up my rhythm. Sometimes I can still feel his arms around my neck, his body shaking wildly as the first spasms of an upcoming orgasm started to form in his gut. He pleaded me not to stop and that is exactly what I gave him. As we kept on moving at an ever quicker pace, my own dick rubbing up against my young lover's clothed ass, Billie started thrusting into my grip, screaming my name repeatedly. Indeed, it wasn't long before I felt Billie's come splashing against the fabric of his boxers, as well as mine sinking through my trousers. We had undoubtedly made a tremendous mess, but definitely a beautiful one.
It took a little while before our breathing rhythm could go back to normal, but eventually, we sighed contently and snuggle against each other. “Let’s go to your bed and lie down for a bit,” he whispered…
***END OF PART 10***
More than 5000 words cuz I made you wait long enough. Finally an NC-17 with this story!