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A Different Angle (An Erotic Student Teacher Short)

Tomboy mechanic Cat has fixed up a classic 1978 Chevy Nova in the school shop, but unless she passes her classes to get into a prestigious college, her stepfather, Ted, won’t let her drive it. Unfortunately, math is not Cat’s subject, but while her stepfather hopes David, the older, British tutor he finds for her, will help her find a way to navigate geometry, Cat finds herself wishing he would teach her something much more interesting.

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Note: This story originally appeared in the anthology Coming Together V3

Warning: This title contains erotic situations, graphic language, sex, and anal sex as well as a relationship between a teen student and her older British professor that is guaranteed to get your knickers in a twist!
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EXCERPT:

"Cat, you can tell me off the top of your head just exactly what Pythagorean's Theorem is, word for word, can't you?" David looked at her curiously. She managed to reach the tip of one of her dark brown curls to her mouth and sucked on it, concentrating hard on not looking at him. She just shrugged. "Well, tell me then."

"The sides of a right triangle are related by the equation a squared plus b squared equals c squared, where a and b represent the lengths of the legs and c is the length of the hypotenuse," she muttered, turning her right shoulder toward the opposite wall, away from him.

"Right." David shook his head, thoughtful. "I don't understand… you're so smart…"

"Well obviously I'm an idiot when it comes to geometry, ok?" Cat stood up fast, the chair clattering over behind her. "Just put a dunce cap on me and put me in a corner, all right? There is no point to any of this! I'm done with geometry! I'm done with Pythagorean's Theorem…and I am most especially done with you, David Slater!"

She kicked the chair as she passed it, heading for the front door—no books, no coat—tears making the world fill with sudden prisms. David caught her arm, and she tried to jerk away, but he was too strong. She stood there, head down, tears falling onto the hardwood floor between them. David saw them, and tilted her chin up. When she met his eyes, his quiet, watchful eyes, she simply burst into tears.

"Catherine, Catherine…" He folded her into his arms and held her, rocking with her. "Beautiful Catherine…you are so bright, please don't ever believe I don't think the world of you." He murmured into her hair, words and more words—brilliant, lovely, smart, delightful, wise and wonderful. She found herself holding onto him, wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against the buttons of his shirt. The more he whispered, the harder she cried. He finally eased them both down to the floor of the foyer, leaning against the door while she attempted to curl her long limbs into a small enough shape so she could fit into his lap.

She found her forehead pressed against the side of his neck, her fingers hesitantly rubbing at his collar, grazing the skin at the hollow of his throat. His rocking slowly subsided with her tears. She sniffed as quietly as she could. She was afraid to move. She thought if she could match her breath, even her heartbeat with his, he might forget she wasn't a part of him, that they shouldn't be tangled here in a heap on the floor together, that this was the way it should be. And then his hand crept to her hair. At first she thought he was just brushing the unruly mess out of his face to keep it from tickling him, but slowly, as the sensation of being petted tingled from her scalp down her spine, she realized he was doing it intentionally.

She very bravely lifted her head to meet his eyes. She didn't want it to stop—didn't want to break whatever spell they were under—but she needed to see him. It was all there, in the way his lips were slightly parted, they way his eyes moved over her face. She held her breath and leaned into him and did it quickly, without thinking, just letting her body lead her. His mouth was soft and he tasted like oranges...

Tomboy mechanic Cat has fixed up a classic 1978 Chevy Nova in the school shop, but unless she passes her classes to get into a prestigious college, her stepfather, Ted, won’t let her drive it. Unfortunately, math is not Cat’s subject, but while her stepfather hopes David, the older, British tutor he finds for her, will help her find a way to navigate geometry, Cat finds herself wishing he would teach her something much more interesting.

----------------
Note: This story originally appeared in the anthology Coming Together V3

Warning: This title contains erotic situations, graphic language, sex, and anal sex as well as a relationship between a teen student and her older British professor that is guaranteed to get your knickers in a twist!
----------------

EXCERPT:

"Cat, you can tell me off the top of your head just exactly what Pythagorean's Theorem is, word for word, can't you?" David looked at her curiously. She managed to reach the tip of one of her dark brown curls to her mouth and sucked on it, concentrating hard on not looking at him. She just shrugged. "Well, tell me then."

"The sides of a right triangle are related by the equation a squared plus b squared equals c squared, where a and b represent the lengths of the legs and c is the length of the hypotenuse," she muttered, turning her right shoulder toward the opposite wall, away from him.

"Right." David shook his head, thoughtful. "I don't understand… you're so smart…"

"Well obviously I'm an idiot when it comes to geometry, ok?" Cat stood up fast, the chair clattering over behind her. "Just put a dunce cap on me and put me in a corner, all right? There is no point to any of this! I'm done with geometry! I'm done with Pythagorean's Theorem…and I am most especially done with you, David Slater!"

She kicked the chair as she passed it, heading for the front door—no books, no coat—tears making the world fill with sudden prisms. David caught her arm, and she tried to jerk away, but he was too strong. She stood there, head down, tears falling onto the hardwood floor between them. David saw them, and tilted her chin up. When she met his eyes, his quiet, watchful eyes, she simply burst into tears.

"Catherine, Catherine…" He folded her into his arms and held her, rocking with her. "Beautiful Catherine…you are so bright, please don't ever believe I don't think the world of you." He murmured into her hair, words and more words—brilliant, lovely, smart, delightful, wise and wonderful. She found herself holding onto him, wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against the buttons of his shirt. The more he whispered, the harder she cried. He finally eased them both down to the floor of the foyer, leaning against the door while she attempted to curl her long limbs into a small enough shape so she could fit into his lap.

She found her forehead pressed against the side of his neck, her fingers hesitantly rubbing at his collar, grazing the skin at the hollow of his throat. His rocking slowly subsided with her tears. She sniffed as quietly as she could. She was afraid to move. She thought if she could match her breath, even her heartbeat with his, he might forget she wasn't a part of him, that they shouldn't be tangled here in a heap on the floor together, that this was the way it should be. And then his hand crept to her hair. At first she thought he was just brushing the unruly mess out of his face to keep it from tickling him, but slowly, as the sensation of being petted tingled from her scalp down her spine, she realized he was doing it intentionally.

She very bravely lifted her head to meet his eyes. She didn't want it to stop—didn't want to break whatever spell they were under—but she needed to see him. It was all there, in the way his lips were slightly parted, they way his eyes moved over her face. She held her breath and leaned into him and did it quickly, without thinking, just letting her body lead her. His mouth was soft and he tasted like oranges...

A "once in a lifetime experience," is how MBA students from Boston College's Carroll School of Management describe spending the day with legendary investor and philanthropist Warren Buffett. For the third year, a group of 20 students -- led by professors Robert Radin and Pete Wilson -- were selected to meet with the Berkshire Hathaway chairman and CEO at his Omaha, Neb. headquarters. Buffett treats his student guests to a two-hour talk about investing, business and life, takes them to lunch at one of his favorite local steakhouses and arranges a tour at one of Berkshire Hathaway's locally-based companies.

Unknown Cambridge activists carved "Barclays invests ?7bn in Arms trade" on the side of the Market square branch today in solidarity with the EDO campaign.