Chapter 6
Penelope
After a sleepy round of early morning sex, in which I woke up to Jacob already moving slowly in and out of my sore pussy, Jacob drives us to what has to be an astronomically expensive apartment complex so he can run upstairs and change into clean clothes. I nod off in the car after popping two extra-strength over-the-counter pain pills while I wait for him.
Once we get to the enormous two-story tan brick high school, it takes copious amounts of coffee to stay awake after drinking too much and not getting enough sleep the night before. It also takes a herculean effort not to clutch my stomach and hobble down the hallways, feeling like my insides have been forcibly rearranged to accommodate Jacob’s dick.
I actively keep my distance from him throughout the day, squireling myself away in my classroom because I know the second I get too close to him, I’ll jump on his cock and beg him to cum inside me again. Though it’s not illegal or frowned upon for two teachers to date—if that is what we’re doing—it is if we get caught having sex on school grounds, and I’m too scared of losing my job or worse.
A major bonus is that I’ve successfully avoided Mr. Andrews, who looks even worse off than I do, after briefly running into him and his gel helmet in the copy room this morning. The man gives me the heebie jeebies.
Sandra strides into my classroom fifteen minutes before the end of our work day with a knowing look. I’ve caught her eyeing me the few times we passed each other, though we’ve been too busy to stop and chat. In a voice so loud it might carry down the hallway, she asks, “How’s your pussycat?”
I widen my eyes and shush her, rushing to the door and pulling it closed again. “My pussycat is just fine, thank you.”
“Just fine?” She huffs and raises one brow. “I’d think a beast of a man like Jacob would do a better job than just fine . How disappointing.”
“Oh my god, Sandra. Anyone ever tell you how inappropriate you are?”
“All the time. It’s one of my most redeeming qualities.”
I bark out a surprised laugh, making my abs and core spasm after all of the abuse my body has happily suffered. I double over and lean against my desk until it passes.
She snaps her fingers. “Ha! I knew it! That man stuffed your cat well and good.” She chucks my arm. “Good for you, girly.” She pulls her short self onto my desk, kicking her feet like a child in her leopard-patterned pleated capris. “Now, give me all the juicy details. How big is it? Did you orgasm? I’ve never met Daniel, but I’ve seen pictures, and he looks like the kind of man who’d leave a pussycat to starve.”
“Jesus, Sandra. You can’t just ask me that.”
“Sure I can! I’m your best friend, and best friends tell each other everything.”
I open my mouth to tell her that no , she’s not, but pause. Sandra just may be the closest friend I’ve ever had, and I feel like a shitty friend for not realizing and acknowledging it before now. We go out for dinner and drinks all the time, even when it’s just the two of us, and I’ve never had one bad thing to say about her. She knows all about my married life and divorce, and I know all about her five kids and two new grandbabies, who she’s always boasting about, as well as her losing the love of her life six years ago. In fact, she’s kind of my hero with her give-no-shits personality and strong sense of self.
I settle onto the desk next to her, my crotch on fire on the hard surface, and widen my hands in an approximation of the size of Jacob’s dick.
She gasps. “No.”
I nod. “Almost the size of a fucking wine bottle. It’s a miracle I can even stand today and didn’t end up in the hospital.”
“You lucky cat. I loved my Larry Barry to the depths of my soul—unfortunate name aside—but bless his heart, he wasn’t much bigger than a Vienna sausage.”
It’s my turn to exclaim, “No. Surely not. You’ve got five kids!”
“Oh honey, don’t confuse size for skill. I’d have given him more if my body hadn’t quit on me. That man had so many tricks up his sleeves that I didn’t walk straight for thirty-five years. Damn, I miss him and his small dick.”
We share a laugh tinged with tears as she remembers the husband who left her shattered when he passed. As brokenhearted as she is, I can’t help but be slightly envious. I’ve never had that kind of love, though I wonder if J—
We both jump out of our skin when Mr. Andrews knocks on my door impatiently and steps into the room. I immediately cross my arms over my chest, wishing I had worn a cardigan over the delicate ivory spaghetti strap blouse I wore today, even with the stifling temperature of my classroom.
“Ms. Barlow, I’m glad I finally caught you again. Would you mind—”
Jacob steps in directly behind him, his black button-down sleeves rolled up, exposing his meaty forearms that held me all night. Mr. Andrews stumbles forward when Jacob pushes past him and up to my side. Hands crossed in front of his chest, which he puffs out, he gives Mr. Andrews a cold look, then a megawatt smile to Mrs. Barry, who waggles her fingers at him.
“Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but the dealership just called. Your car is ready, Penelope. I’ll take you to pick it up before we go home.”
By saying before we go home instead of before you go home , he’s painted a picture for Mr. Andrews of us dating and possibly living together. For a fraction of a second, Mr. Andrews looks crestfallen, and I hope that’ll put a final end to his pursuit of me romantically.
But then his still blood-shot eyes from the night before narrow first on Jacob, then on me. “I see.”
“And what exactly is it that you see, Mr. Andrews?” Sandra asks with a challenging tone as she stands and places her hands on her narrow hips.
Disgustingly, Mr. Andrews looks directly at me and says, “That was fast ”—he stresses the word, and we all know he means it in the old-fashioned way of calling me a slut . If we challenge him on it or bring it to Mr. Garnet, though, he’ll just feign ignorance.
I hop off the desk, momentarily wincing at the pain in my lady bits, and dart in front of Jacob, who has dropped his arms and advanced on Mr. Andrews. Afraid of Jacob doing something rash like punching Mr. Andrews in his smart mouth and losing his first teaching job in less than a week because of me, I force a small smile on my face and laugh it off, even going so far as to almost rest my hand on Mrs. Andrews’s liver-spotted forearm in his wrinkled, short-sleeve button down. He really needs to get a few of them checked out for skin cancer.
“I told you we’ve known each other for years, Mr. Andrews. His mom and I are friends, and he’s helping me out with my car as a favor to her while I show him around his new city.” None of this is true, of course, but with my hand hovering above Mr. Andrews’s arm, he studies me for any hint of a lie and slowly loses his glare.
“My apologies, Ms. Barlow. I hope you won’t hold my…ill choice of words against me. The heat—it gets to me sometimes.” He takes my hand and pats it. Perhaps he’s telling the truth because his hand is clammy, leaving a film on my skin that makes me want to gag.
Sandra sidles up with my tote bag and holds it out for me to take so that I have the polite excuse to pull my hand away from Mr. Andrews’s bile-churning presence. “Go on, bestie. You two kids have fun. We’ll see you tomorrow.” She ushers all of us out of my classroom, and I mouth thank you to her behind Mr. Andrews’s back.
Jacob still looks ready to pounce on Mr. Andrews, so I put my back into it as I push him ahead of me down the hall and out of the school, waving to Mr. Garnet with a broad smile that says nothing to see here. Definitely not a bear who wants to tear your oldest BFF apart .
“I don’t like that creep,” Jacob growls out. “And the way he spoke to you? I oughta—”
“I know. I know. I don’t like him either, but if you want to stay on Mr. Garnet’s good side, you’ll keep your hands and opinions to yourself and let me handle it.”
Once we make it across the parking lot to Jacob’s Audi, I open his driver’s side door and motion for him to get in. He spins us around and plops me onto his seat, dragging my hips to the edge and stepping between my knees to force my legs apart.
Since I chose to wear crisp, navy blue slacks today instead of a skirt, I can’t feel the bulge behind his zipper as well as I wish. Maybe that’s a good thing, though, since I spot Mr. Andrews and Mr. Garnet walking out of the sliding glass front doors together.
“I don’t want you to have to handle it, Mama. That’s not your job, now.”
As wonderful as it is hearing he wants to handle things for me, it still raises my hackles. “I’ve been handling myself for four years now, and I can continue doing so well enough on my own. I haven’t turned into a wilting flower just because we spent one night together.” I smack him in the middle of his chest and fight against his hold when Jacob grunts like a caveman and yanks my hips back and forth along the firm ridge of his trousers.
“Oh, baby,” I moan, but quickly snap out of it and smack his chest again. “Stop it. We’re going to get caught being inappropriate on school grounds.” Jacob grits his teeth, turning his head to watch the men as they get closer to us and their cars. I use his distraction to wrestle out of his hold and climb over the center console into the passenger seat.
Jacob sighs and readjusts his dick in his pants before he buckles himself in and pulls out of the parking lot. I wave to the men as we drive by, silently praying everyone will cool off over the weekend and we’ll have a fresh start when the students return to school on Monday.
I relax back in my seat the farther away we get but straighten and swing my gaze around when I realize the route Jacob is on leads to my house instead of the dealership. “I thought you said my car was ready to be picked up?”
“I lied. That hunk of junk is beyond help.”
“Oh.” A beat passes. “Well, that’s rude. Betsy was the best I could afford.”
“Yeah, and it’s not good enough.”
A memory of Daniel criticizing my diet and workout plan and telling me I wasn’t doing a good enough job following it springs to mind. Tears burn the back of my eyes, and I stare blankly out the passenger-side window, ignoring Jacob for the remainder of the drive.