Read Online Nikki and her Teacher by Nikki Palmer - Free Book Online
Authors: Nikki Palmer
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I sat in my seventh period history class watching the teacher closely. He was the sexiest teacher at our school. I loved the way his khakis clung to his ass as he walked. He doubled as the football coach, and everything about him just made me drool.
Coach Meyers, as we all called him, was about forty with brown hair and green eyes. When he sat on his desk with his legs spread, his podium propped in front of him, you could see the way his khakis clung to his crotch. I’d stare at him and lick my lips, and sometimes it would seem that he’d catch my eye, and I would watch as his cock thickened behind his fly. It was incredible. Everything about Coach Meyers was incredible.
I didn’t have a boyfriend. None of the boys at our school could compare to Coach Meyers. I couldn’t even think about dating one of them, much less fucking them. Coach was the only man I’d ever wanted.
After class, I came up with a reason to stay behind and ask Coach a question like I did every day. This time I asked him about why people had followed Hitler in Post-World War I Germany. I didn’t really care. All I cared about was staying close to Coach.
As I asked the question, I stood really close to him. I made sure my legs brushed his as he sat on his desk. My eyes told him how I felt about him. After he answered the question, I again whispered, “I love you, Coach Meyers.”
Coach swallowed hard. He knew I’d say that. I had said it to him after school every day all school year. It was only a week until graduation. Yeah, he knew. He answered the same way he always did. “It’s not appropriate for you to say that to me, Nikole. I’m your teacher. There can be no relationship between us.”
I gave him my best sultry smile. I knew it was pretty good because I’d been practicing it in the mirror. I’d heard the speech so many times I could have given it for him. It didn’t matter. He’d change his mind. Eventually.
“I graduate in a week, Coach. Surely we can bend the rules just a little bit.” I ran my finger down the front of his green polo shirt. “I turned 18 two weeks ago. I’m legal, Coach.”
He caught my hand and removed it from his body. I sighed. Why wouldn’t he admit that he felt the same way about me that I felt about him? As I stepped back, I could see the bulge in his pants getting bigger. He wanted me. There was no doubt about it.
“Have a good weekend, Miss Palmer.” He pointed to the door. Whatever. I’d be back and he knew it.
I went to my locker and pulled out the books I’d need for the weekend. Finals were next week. Not that I needed to study much. I didn’t even have to show up for the final to pass my classes. I don’t know why I studied so hard. I guess because it was expected of me, and I always did what was expected of me. Except where Coach Meyers was concerned, but he was a different story altogether.
I headed out the school’s side door and started the lonely walk home. I’d only been going to Justice High School for my senior year. I hated moving so much. This had been the worst, though. By senior year, all the cliques had already formed. The only people that ever talked to me were the silly boys who wanted to get under my skirt. I wasn’t interested at all.
I would have liked making a couple of girlfriends, but I’m a foster kid in hand-me-downs, and foster kids in hand-me-downs don’t tend to make lots of friends in a small rich town like Justice.
I walked the five blocks to the Richardson’s house. They’d been my foster parents since August. They were going to let me stay through the end of June, but then I was on my own. The government money stopped as soon as I graduated. They’d need my bed for some other kid who brought government money with them.
I’m not saying the Richardsons are bad people, because they’re not. They opened their home to me and gave me a place to live when I needed one. My parents died when I
Coach Meyers, as we all called him, was about forty with brown hair and green eyes. When he sat on his desk with his legs spread, his podium propped in front of him, you could see the way his khakis clung to his crotch. I’d stare at him and lick my lips, and sometimes it would seem that he’d catch my eye, and I would watch as his cock thickened behind his fly. It was incredible. Everything about Coach Meyers was incredible.
I didn’t have a boyfriend. None of the boys at our school could compare to Coach Meyers. I couldn’t even think about dating one of them, much less fucking them. Coach was the only man I’d ever wanted.
After class, I came up with a reason to stay behind and ask Coach a question like I did every day. This time I asked him about why people had followed Hitler in Post-World War I Germany. I didn’t really care. All I cared about was staying close to Coach.
As I asked the question, I stood really close to him. I made sure my legs brushed his as he sat on his desk. My eyes told him how I felt about him. After he answered the question, I again whispered, “I love you, Coach Meyers.”
Coach swallowed hard. He knew I’d say that. I had said it to him after school every day all school year. It was only a week until graduation. Yeah, he knew. He answered the same way he always did. “It’s not appropriate for you to say that to me, Nikole. I’m your teacher. There can be no relationship between us.”
I gave him my best sultry smile. I knew it was pretty good because I’d been practicing it in the mirror. I’d heard the speech so many times I could have given it for him. It didn’t matter. He’d change his mind. Eventually.
“I graduate in a week, Coach. Surely we can bend the rules just a little bit.” I ran my finger down the front of his green polo shirt. “I turned 18 two weeks ago. I’m legal, Coach.”
He caught my hand and removed it from his body. I sighed. Why wouldn’t he admit that he felt the same way about me that I felt about him? As I stepped back, I could see the bulge in his pants getting bigger. He wanted me. There was no doubt about it.
“Have a good weekend, Miss Palmer.” He pointed to the door. Whatever. I’d be back and he knew it.
I went to my locker and pulled out the books I’d need for the weekend. Finals were next week. Not that I needed to study much. I didn’t even have to show up for the final to pass my classes. I don’t know why I studied so hard. I guess because it was expected of me, and I always did what was expected of me. Except where Coach Meyers was concerned, but he was a different story altogether.
I headed out the school’s side door and started the lonely walk home. I’d only been going to Justice High School for my senior year. I hated moving so much. This had been the worst, though. By senior year, all the cliques had already formed. The only people that ever talked to me were the silly boys who wanted to get under my skirt. I wasn’t interested at all.
I would have liked making a couple of girlfriends, but I’m a foster kid in hand-me-downs, and foster kids in hand-me-downs don’t tend to make lots of friends in a small rich town like Justice.
I walked the five blocks to the Richardson’s house. They’d been my foster parents since August. They were going to let me stay through the end of June, but then I was on my own. The government money stopped as soon as I graduated. They’d need my bed for some other kid who brought government money with them.
I’m not saying the Richardsons are bad people, because they’re not. They opened their home to me and gave me a place to live when I needed one. My parents died when I
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