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Tantalus in Chains Ch. 01

By: IceBluePhoenix



AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you've read the other things I wrote, I just wanted to warn you that this is going to be completely different. I'm experimenting with a different style and a different focus—the erotic experience of desire. If you're looking for a quickie, it's not going to happen in this story; this one is about the slow burn of wanting someone you can't have, someone who is off limits...at least for now.

*****

CHAPTER ONE: Eros Beckons Through a Pair of Ripped Jeans

The butterflies have already started fluttering in my stomach. The last five minutes of lunch are always the most excruciating. In just five minutes, the bell will ring and Zack will be walking down the hall. I'm not sure what it is that causes me to react this way to him. On days when I'm sane, I know that it's because he needs me, and no one else seems to. I know that it's because he personifies the free-spirited attitude I wish I had. I brush aside the fact that it's partly because of sheer physical chemistry, that his liquid brown eyes spark something inside me that no one has ever sparked before. But when I'm painfully honest with myself, I have to admit that I have a crush on him. I have a crush on him, and he's my student. 

The bell jangled over the intercom, and I got shakily to my feet. I took a deep breath and hastily recited the list of reasons why I shouldn't be so nervous. I am a grown woman... at least, I am twenty-six, and that is eight years older than Zack. To a teenager, that is like a lifetime. He would never think of me that way. And let's face it, I'm crazy for thinking of him that way. 

The damp fall air permeated the hallway and mixed with the scent of dust and mold that inevitably accumulated there. Someone laughed further down the hall, and I automatically looked to make sure it didn't involve the ritual teen obsession with humiliating or injuring other people. Then something warm uncurled inside me, and I knew without looking that Zack had rounded the corner. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to gather my thoughts for a minute. He's my student. I thought. He's my student, he's my student, HE'S MY STUDENT.

When I opened my eyes, the something warm inside me jumped and twisted. Zack was ambling down the hall. My eyes went to the rip in his jeans. Now, I've been fascinated with lots of holes in lots of guys' jeans, but the way I know that this is a real crush is that the rip wasn't anyplace particularly erotic. It was over his knee. I shook myself and remembered that I was actually supposed to be looking for something. His English book. Which he didn't have. 

Well, thank God I had a legitimate reason to talk to him. By that time, he was just a few feet away from me. Holy crap, he was wearing his football jersey. I had forgotten it was game day. This is so embarrassing. I am definitely not the kind of girl who even likes football players. In my experience, they are arrogant, lazy, and largely uninteresting. But Zack is different. And also, the football jersey worked for him. Maroon suited his deep tan. It suited it a lot. 

So did the smile on his face. "I'm starting tonight, Miss Martin!"

My stomach did a somersault, and I gave him a side hug. "That's great!" Zack is definitely not usually a first string player. He almost never gets to play.

"You're going to be there, right?"

"Umm, duh." I haven't missed a game all season. Three guesses why. 

"Cool." He smiled again, the kind of hundred watt smile that is capable of knocking me unconscious. He started to head into the room when I put my hand on his arm, the kind of idiotic thing I do to torture myself. A spark shot through my fingers and spread through my whole body. It was like a drug. It doesn't matter when I put my hand on other students' arms, but with Zack, it's different. If I had any sense, I would stop. 

But I had a reason for doing it, I rationalized as I struggled to rearrange my face into a semblance of teacherly friendliness. Playful, sarcastic friendliness. I guess some people might call it flirting. I was actually batting my eyes while I smiled, but hey, sometimes you've got to flirt to get results in teaching. "Hey Football Star—forgetting something?" 

He looked confused for a minute, and I raised an eyebrow while tapping my foot in mock impatience.

Then he smiled again before adopting an offended expression. "I can't believe you would accuse me of.... I didn't forget my book, Miss Martin."

I rolled my eyes. "Where is it?"

"I've got it, don't worry." He winked and walked into the room. His flip flops made soft whispering noises against his bare feet, and I had to swallow and collect myself yet again. I wasn't so distracted that I failed to notice where his book came from, though. He made a beeline for the box of magazines I kept at the back of the room and dug his book out. It was such a Zack thing to do. I don't think he could follow a rule if it meant saving his life. Add that to the list of reasons why I shouldn't be interested in him. I sighed. 

I made a big deal out of sneaking up behind him and tapping him on the shoulder. Theatrics are always a big part of discipline. I had my sweet flirtatious smile on again, but the eyes were different. They said, "Why the fuck are you breaking my rules?" He attempted to soothe me with a smile, but it was easy to resist right now because his eyes said, "You caught me, so make your move."

"Oh dearly beloved Starting Fullback, is that box of magazines actually a portal to your locker? Because you know you're not allowed to leave your books in my classroom. And if that is in fact a portal to your locker, then you owe me for ALL of your books."

He tried to look innocent and managed a pretty convincing imitation of it. "I forgot, Miss Martin."

"Uh huh. Too bad I didn't forget that you have detention. Monday. Last period. Be there or be in after school detention next week. And how about if you bring your book to class on Monday, too?"

He looked pissed for a second, which didn't hurt his appearance at all. His eyes burned through his long brown hair. I knew what he was thinking. He was going to have to miss seventh period practice, and he didn't like that one bit. He realized abruptly that everyone was looking at him, and he smoothed his expression into an impish smile. I steeled myself for the face-saving portion of our interaction. "I'll probably enjoy spending a little extra time with you. I could show you a real good time. It could be... exciting," he said. 

I rolled my eyes and pretended that my insides weren't throbbing with frustrated desire. "Yeah, real exciting. You, me, and the other seven or eight students who have detention with you."

His smirk didn't fade. "If that's how you want to do it. Hey, wait, are they all girls?"

Chuck, his best friend, snorted. "You wouldn't care if they weren't, man."

Thankfully, this drew Zack's attention from me, because there was no way I could really win this kind of battle of wits. Zack wandered over to his seat by Chuck, muttering things like, "You wish I wouldn't care." Boys.

At least I had survived another day without making a complete idiot out of myself. 

*****

The one good thing about Friday nights is that I'm never overwhelmed by Zack like I am at school. I think the helmet helps. I can't see his hair or his eyes. Also, he's farther away. But the main reason is that he isn't an individual anymore when he's in full uniform. If he has to wear his football jersey, I prefer him pairing it with jeans. Ripped jeans.

Usually at games I flickered my attention between the gossipy conversation of my friends, the riveting action on the field (I was, much to my own frustration, getting caught up in the passion and drama of high school football), and Zack on the sidelines. 

Tonight was an unusual night, though, since he was playing. Unable to tear my eyes from the field, I watched him block player after player, and I knew my face must be slightly flushed. I have never seen him move his body that way. I have never seen him be so aggressive. It did things to me that I wasn't prepared to accept.

Postgame, he was dripping with sweat, but the lights reflected off of his tanned skin, giving him the kind of glow usually reserved for 1930s movie stars. My body crawled with desire to touch him. I craved him like I used to crave chocolate. The huddle broke, and the players wandered around to talk to everyone before running back to the field house. As always, I desperately hoped that Zack would stay, but as always, he didn't. Before I could take two steps toward him, he was gone and I was enveloped in the arms of another sweaty football player. I pushed Zack from my mind and I concentrated on telling Rusty, our second string tight end, what a great game he played. 

*****

At 7:30 on Monday morning, I trudged down the darkened hall to my room. I wasn't looking forward to another week, not at all. I thought of that commercial where everyone wakes up early and tries to hold the sun back in an effort to keep the next week from coming. Funny. I feel like that every Monday.

When I rounded the last corner, I almost dropped my bag. Zack's tall, broad frame was between me and the door to my room. No one else was in the hall yet. He was still sleepy, his long lashes softly framing his glazed eyes, and his hair hung in damp strands that begged to be touched. His arms were folded across his stomach. He looked completely at ease. 

I recovered from the shock relatively quickly, considering the earliness of the hour and the completeness of my surprise. He hadn't seen or heard me yet, and was staring abstractedly away from me, lost in thought. It made me smile.

"Planning to bar the door so that I can't have class today?" I said.

He jumped. It was adorable. Then he blushed. "No ma'am. I came to ask you a favor."

I rolled my eyes in mock annoyance. "On a Monday morning? Did someone kick you in the head on Friday night?"

He smiled. "No ma'am." His eyes fell on the books I was shifting to my other arm as I fumbled in my bag for my keys. It was endlessly amazing how many books and papers I had to carry home, especially on the weekend, and how my keys always seemed to migrate to the bottom of the shallow pocket on the outside of my bag. "Here," he said. He reached for the books. His fingers brushed the bare skin of my arm, and I was glad that the hall was dim enough that he didn't see the goosebumps rising in response to his touch. 

"Thanks," I said. "Wow, he's creative, he's smart, he can knock people down, and he's still a gentleman. Who knew?"

He blushed again and looked down, but he was smiling. Compliments didn't come his way too often, and they always made him both uncomfortable and proud. It was times like this when I remembered how much younger he really was, and I loved him with the simple purity of a sister. I retrieved my keys and opened the door, flicking the lights on. 

"Well, come in," I said, taking the books back from him. It must be impossible to transfer books without touching the other person's skin. His arm was warm, deliciously warm, and the uncomplicated moment was over. I turned from him and went to deposit the books on my desk before he could notice my reaction. "You said something about a favor?" I prompted him.

He shuffled in after me, but avoided my eyes. I knew that meant what he was asking was desperately important to him, so to take the pressure off I pretended to be absorbed in unpacking the papers from my bag. He visibly relaxed. "Yeah. It's just, you know I have football last period, Miss Martin. I told Coach Grantham that I have detention, and... well, he said that if I miss practice, I'm off first string."

I sighed and looked up. "If you're going to ask me to cancel your detention..."

His eyes widened. "No ma'am. No, I know I broke your rule. I just wondered if I could maybe do it another time."

"I don't have any other free periods," I said.

He was quiet, the kind of quietness that meant he was gathering courage to ask what he really wanted to ask. The he took a deep breath and looked straight at me. "I know this would be a huge favor and I'll understand if you say no, but what about lunch?"

My heart thudded into my throat. My mind wasn't working fast enough, but my intuition and my body had immediately grasped the temptation of having him to myself for thirty minutes. My mind kicked in, screaming that it was playing with fire. I started to protest, but before I could say no, he continued. "Look, I know what you're going to say. Lunch is not as long as last period. But what if I came today and tomorrow?"

Holy God. His deep brown eyes begged me, and I am only human. "Okay," I said. It wasn't hard to pretend to be annoyed since I was so frustrated with my body's response to him. "But I hope you realize I'm doing you a favor. You owe me."

Relief washed over him. "Yes ma'am."

"Bring your ACT packet."

His face fell. He was perpetually afraid of standardized tests. "Seriously? Can't I just write sentences or something?"

I grinned. "Nope. See you at lunch."

*****

He's just my student, I reminded myself. Yep, a student. My student, my student, my student. For some reason, I believed the mantra would work, and I kept saying it day after day even though it didn't do much to help. 

My heart skipped a beat when his body filled the frame of my door before lunch. He didn't look happy, though, and he smacked his ACT booklet down with a pretty fair imitation of a toddler's tantrum. He stared at it like it was a venomous snake. 

I rolled my eyes. "Don't be such a drama queen. It's a piece of paper."

He glared at me and didn't say anything. I went to sit in the desk in front of him so that I wouldn't be towering over him. We were eye to eye, but I ignored the fluttering sensation he ignited inside me. This was more important than my own impossible feelings. "Zack, this is your future. This is how you're going to go to college. I know that's a lot of pressure, but you can do this." He continued staring at the paper. He wasn't going to talk. 

I sighed and stood up, folding my arms. "If it helps, they aren't going to grade the registration form," I said, turning the full force of my teacher glare on him. 

He successfully ignored my glare for a few more seconds, but then he grudgingly picked up his pencil. 

"I'll be at my desk if you need me," I said. Just fill in those bubbles nice and dark." 

He grunted and started writing.

I had been sitting at my desk occasionally glancing at the way his hair brushed the back of his neck for about ten minutes when I realized he still hadn't darkened a single bubble. He was doodling. I cleared my throat. "Hey Zack?"

"Yes ma'am?"

"If you don't have that thing filled out by the end of lunch, you have to come back during last period."

The look on his face was a priceless mixture of anger and panic. I stifled a laugh as he began furiously filling out circles. I busied myself grading some of the papers that inevitably pile up so that I wouldn't spend the rest of my lunch torturing myself with my unrequitable crush. Twenty minutes later, I glanced up at the clock and realized lunch was almost over. I was congratulating myself on a job well done when Zack lunged out of his chair and stalked back to my desk. Energy radiated from him in waves, negative energy that had everything to do with being forced to do work. It was like an assault. He thrust his registration form into my hands and went to stand behind me.

"Is that what you wanted, Miss Martin?" he said. He sounded sullen. 

I glanced down at the paper, intending to check it for completeness, but then he moved closer to me and leaned over my shoulder. The heat of his body washed through my back even though he wasn't touching me. I could smell the soft leather of his jacket, and I was painfully aware that the flawless, tempting skin of his face was inches from my own. My throat went dry as I imagined how close his angel's-bow mouth was to my ear. I have no idea what was on the paper. 

"Shit," he said. I carefully turned to look at him, moving slightly away so that I wouldn't touch him. He was staring intently at the form. I blushed when I realized that my hands were actually shaking.

I pulled myself together. "Language."

"Sorry Miss Martin. I just realized that I used pen instead of a number two pencil." He grabbed the paper, straightened up, and wadded it into a ball. "I am such a screw-up."

When he said things like that, I never knew what to say. My voice was soft. "You're not a screw-up. You're so much more than anyone even begins to realize."

He looked at me curiously, and I smiled playfully. "Which is how I know that you're going to finish filling out that form for me before last period. They have more in the guidance counselor's office."

He groaned, but it was the kind of theatrical groan that meant he really didn't mind. 

Chuck came bursting into the room like a firecracker, and he looked pointedly between the two of us. I braced myself for whatever inappropriate thing he was going to say. 

"Detention?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at Zack. "Miss Martin, why don't I ever get special one-on-one lunch detention?"

Zack grinned. "You've gotta live on the wild side, dude." 

I rolled my eyes. I did that a lot around Zack. "Yeah. Do something like leave your book in my classroom. Wild. I don't know if I should tell you this, but I try to keep my lunch detentions pretty boring."

Zack looked affronted. "Boring?" He looked at Chuck with a devious expression. "I don't know what she's talking about. I was two seconds away from bending her over that desk, and then you walked in."

Chuck said, "No wonder she was bored."

Neither of them noticed my eyes fan into flames. There was no way I would make it through tomorrow without losing my mind.

I cleared my throat. "Hey Zack? Finish that form before last period and you're off the hook tomorrow." 

His face lit up. "Yes ma'am!" Then he took off with Chuck as soon as the bell rang. 

He returned three minutes later with his English book under his arm, grinning ruefully.

Tantalus in Chains Ch. 02



Chapter 2: Girls Aren't the Only Ones Who Can Make Lollipops Sexy

"Romantic poetry," I said, surveying my class. "Oh, go ahead, get it out of your system."

There was an uproar of moaning and groaning. Zack let his head drop to his desk with a thud, and he didn't sit back up. 

"Okay, time's up. Now open your book to page 306. There you will see one of the most beloved English poets ever, Lord Byron." 

Chuck snorted. "That dude looks like a freak."

Chuck had a point, I thought. The portrait our book had chosen was definitely not the most flattering. Byron was wearing some kind of horrible plaid hat. But this wasn't the kind of thing you could point out to your high school seniors if you wanted them to take poetry seriously. I pretended to look offended. "A freak? You better be glad the women of Byron's time didn't hear you say that. I don't think I could protect you from them. He was the guy whose picture everyone would have had taped on their locker door, if they had locker doors. Or pictures."

Rayanne, one of my better students, piped up. "Yeah, look on the next page. He's kinda hot, Miss Martin."

I grinned and then looked at Chuck. "Told you."

"Whatever. He's got nothing on me."

Zack smirked at him and demonstrated that he'd been watching The Office by muttering, "That's what she said." He'd started saying it a lot lately, and it was beginning to get a little annoying.

"You know what else she said?" I asked tersely. "She said to turn the page and read 'She Walks in Beauty.'"

Zack painted on a look of surprise as he flipped the page. "That is EXACTLY what she said. Were you eavesdropping?"

Damn, he was gorgeous when he was pissing me off. "Just read." 

"She walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that's best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes." He paused and looked a little surprised. "This is kind of good."

A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. "Thank you, captain obvious. Keep reading."

He had started out sounding bored and hurried, but as he lost himself in the poem, his voice reached a pitch that had everyone hanging on his every syllable. 

Rayanne sighed. "That was really good, Zack."

"Yeah, man," Chuck said, flipping back to the hideous portrait of Byron. He shoved it under Zack's nose as he said, "You totally sounded like a guy who would wear a kilt on his head."

I was impressed, I'll be honest. It's not often a student, especially a male one, gets interested in Romantic poetry. The fact that it was Zack was icing on the cake. "I think that might be the best anyone's ever read that poem in my class," I said. 

Zack shrank under the praise, exhibiting that strange mixture of discomfort and pleasure he always showed in the face of compliments. "Thanks," he mumbled, and the bell rang.

*****

The next day was Halloween. It was the kind of circus that Halloween always is in the public school, second only to Valentine's Day. Students tried to scare me with their generic monster costumes. I would overreact on purpose, and then say something like, "You think you can scare? You're going to have to do better. I once read The Iliad, Moby-Dick and The Mysteries of Udolpho in the same summer."

None of them ever knew what I meant. It was usually more effective to point out that nothing is more terrifying than a teenager on a sugar-high. I used to give them Pixie Sticks. Do you know what they did with them? They snorted them. That's right. They inhaled them through their noses. Not the sharpest tools in the shed.

Fifth period came quickly today for once, and Zack came in looking blissfully normal. He paused when he came in and grinned at me. "Like my costume?"

I slid my eyes over his body, feeling my pulse quicken. He had on those damn ripped jeans again, for one thing, but I somehow had a feeling they weren't what he wanted commentary on. "Oh my God," I said. "You are the most horrifying putrefying corpse I've seen all day."

"Burn!" Chuck chimed in. He was a class clown, but he was also one of the few students who would know what "putrefying" meant.

Zack's eyes sparked deliciously as he flicked them over me. "Did you look in the mirror this morning?"

I smiled so that my plastic vampire fangs would show. "Yeah—no reflection, though."

"I'm just saying," he said.

"So what are you?" I asked as I followed him inside, closing the door. All the other students were already inside, and I was ready to get class started.

"I'm a stripper." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Want a lap dance, Miss Martin?"

My face turned bright red. I could only hope the class wouldn't realize it was because my body was screaming for him.

"Vampires don't blush," Zack observed. 

"Strippers actually have cars," I countered. "At least, if they're good at their jobs."

He pretended to be wounded for a second, and then he grinned. "It's okay, you're just jealous that all the ladies want me. After class, Miss Martin. I'll give you a special deal."

My palms itched to touch him, and my skin felt like it had burst into flame. I pushed the awareness of my desire to a corner of my mind, and I managed to dismiss him with a roll of my eyes.

The bell rang. The rustle of cellophane whispered through the room as the students dug through the candy they had accumulated throughout the day. I cleared my throat. "Some of you seem to have forgotten that you are not allowed to eat in my classroom." 

They groaned in unison.

"Some of you may also remember that today is Halloween, the time when we celebrate chaos and madness. And I must be out of my mind to say this, but just today, I will let you eat as much candy as you want. If I find ONE SINGLE WRAPPER on my floor after class, you all have detention." 

They cheered and went back to unwrapping their candy. I picked up my well-worn anthology of Poe's poems and short stories and began to read "The Raven." They had all heard this poem a million times before, and had in fact studied it during their junior year. I finished the first stanza, and then I paused dramatically. The students were settling down, prepared for a routine day of literary study. I smiled. "I've got a surprise for you," I said. Then I went to the DVD player and pressed play. They were beside themselves. I was showing a clip from an episode of The Simpsons with James Earl Jones reading the poem. I retreated to the back of the class to turn out the lights and watch.

His lush voice wove a hypnotic spell that stoked the slow burning fire inside me. Most of the students were just as lulled by the meter. Then my eyes fell on Zack. He was staring at the screen, completely lost in the world James Earl Jones was creating. Completely unconscious of what he was doing, he rubbed a Charms Blowpop across his lips. It was the kind of thing that porn stars did, and it always looked gaudy in their hands because they did it on purpose, completely aware of the effect they were having. Zack was in his own world, and he was riveting. The red candy shell glistened in the flickering light of the television, and it left a faint sheen on his skin. I watched him twirl it in his hands, subtly shaping his lips around the tip but not fully engulfing it. I could feel my nipples hardening as an image tore into me. 

James Earl Jones began to speed the narration, speaking with firm, quick emphasis that inevitably quickened my pulse. "And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming," he began. Zack chose that moment to sink the Blowpop into his mouth. His eyes burned with the intensity of the poem's building climax, and I gasped out loud. It was soft enough that no one heard it. I braced myself against the wall behind me, feeling my knees weaken as he worked the candy in his mouth. The full force of my desire pooled in my gut, then throbbed downward to my clit. My heart hammered with my panicked realization that if I squeezed my thighs just right, I would have a silent orgasm. Zack had been drawing me to him like a Siren since August, but he had never been the direct source of my sexual climax. 

Bart Simpson's voice jerked me out of my trance, and the crisis passed. I flicked on the lights and walked shakily back to the front of the room to lead a discussion on "The Raven." It was a mercifully short time before Zack bit into the Blowpop and it was gone.

*****

Before I knew it, it was time for last period, which I had to myself for once. I was straightening papers on my desk when I heard Zack clear his throat. I looked up and almost knocked the entire pile back off my desk. He was towering over me. It was funny, but in my mind I always imagined the students were shorter than me. They definitely appeared to be while they were sitting in their desks. It was an endless source of amazement that they generally stood at least a head higher than me when they were out of their seats. 

"Miss Martin?" He looked concerned.

"Sorry, you startled me. In my own little world. Nice work yesterday with Byron's poem." 

It had been three months since I'd been alone with him. I blushed, suddenly remembering what I had been picturing him doing to me just a few hours ago.

He was blissfully unaware of the conflict inside me. He was too intent on his own as-yet-unexpressed inner conflict. "Yes, ma'am. I was just wondering if... umm..."

Good Lord, this boy could not ever just ask for what he wanted. It was endlessly distracting because I inevitably found myself fixating on some part of his body whenever he paused. Today, it was his mouth, for obvious reasons. It had somehow escaped my notice until today that it was the kind of mouth you would expect to find on a pixie or an angel. I wondered if his lips were as soft and warm as they looked. My fingers imagined it for me, the smoothness, the gentle heat of his breath, the way he would move them against my skin...

I curled my fingers into fists and hid them behind my back. "You were wondering?"

"Well, poetry is kind of... well, it's kind of good."

I smiled. "Yeah, that's kinda why people write it."

"Is there more? You know, that doesn't suck?"

My heart stopped again. Wordlessly, I reached for my favorite anthology of poems and handed it to him. I kept a spare copy at school for just such an emergency, although I'd always viewed it as a crazy fantasy that any student would actually want more poetry.

His eyes widened at the size of the book.

"Start with Robert Herrick," I suggested. "He's a Renaissance poet, but he was kind of cool."

"Thanks," Zack mumbled with a grin. Then he shuffled out.

Twenty minutes later, I could still feel my desire for him pulsing through my body. I put my head down on my desk and wondered if I would ever be able to look at him without wanting him.



Tantalus in Chains Ch. 03



CHAPTER THREE: What Dreams May Come

I knew it was a dream, but I didn't want to wake up. Zack was kissing me, the kind of kiss that you only read about in romance novels. I had just eaten a 3 Musketeers, and the sensual chocolate flavor mixed with the delicious sensation of his mouth on mine. I realized dimly that even in real life, my toes were curling and I was moaning softly. The dream was slipping away, and the more desperately I tried to cling to it, the mistier it became. He cupped his hand over my breast. My breath quickened as he stopped kissing me and gave me the smoldering glance I had always craved. He started lowering his head, and the jolt of anticipation that went through me finally pulled me out of the dream altogether. 

I stared at the black ceiling as my alarm chose that moment to blare into the silence. I seriously considered smashing it. I still wanted Zack with all the passion he had awakened in me in my dream. My heart raced, and an insistent throbbing pulse resounded through my body. Barely conscious of what I was doing, I rubbed my thumbs over my painfully erect nipples. It felt unbelievably good. Being a single girl, there are times when I need to relieve my own sexual frustration, but usually touching my own breasts doesn't do much for me. I was shocked at the fire that darted to my groin. 

I dropped my right hand to massage my clit. I couldn't believe how wet I was. I blushed as I remembered the dream that woke me up, but the blush was accompanied by a quick flutter of my heart as I remembered the look on Dream Zack's face. God I wanted him, I thought, rotating my finger a little faster. I wanted him, but part of me held back from the idea of thinking about him while I touched myself. Normally I stuck to very generic fantasies, ones about doctors or pool boys or even, sometimes, principals. I had fantasized about students fucking me before, but never my ACTUAL students, always some Imaginary Faceless Students. I groped for one of these fantasies and managed to find one about being a stewardess seduced by a passenger.

Zack flashed into my mind again, though, and then I remembered his lips wrapping around that Blowpop. It had been almost two months since he did that, but I couldn't seem to stop thinking of it. That was when I forgot to care about the awkwardness of it, the dubious morality of it. I didn't care. I just wanted him, and I let myself have him in my fantasy. He was hiking up my skirt, pushing aside my panties, and driving me back onto my desk. The golden sound of his fly unzipping made me shiver, and then my fingers were plunging into my pussy along with Fantasy Zack. I tilted my pelvis up so I could press more deeply inside, but I knew that Real Zack could go so much deeper. I gasped his name even though he couldn't hear me, and then I came. His name reverberated through my body for what seemed like hours. 

**********

I had expected it to be awkward seeing Zack after I had fingerfucked myself to visions of him ravaging my body. It turned out to be surprisingly easy, even though there was an added undercurrent of something like an afterglow for me. He wandered down the hall with drowsy eyes, bedroom eyes, eyes that made me shiver, but I was surprised that I wasn't too embarrassed about my explicit fantasy to look him in the face. 

He perked up a little when he saw me. "I studied my vocabulary last night," he said.

"Oh my God, it's the Apocalypse," I said.

"Not until I actually read a book."

Rayanne snorted. "That won't be any time soon."

"Probably before you can make a free throw."

She shrugged and smiled. "Actually, you have a point."

They meandered in, and I leaned against the wall in an attempt to collect myself before starting class. Instead of the brutal onslaught of hormones he had been inundating me with, there was a strangely mellow fascination. It was like the lightning before the thunderclap. In a lot of ways, it was more manageable, but it was also more inescapable. 

He was sprawled casually in his chair when I went in, the kind of posture that incredibly good-looking guys make so tempting. He wasn't looking at me, though, so he didn't see the slow burn of the longing he kindled in me.

"Quiz time," I announced brightly, shuffling the papers in my hands. The students groaned in mock annoyance, but they had long ago resigned themselves to the inevitable Thursday vocabulary quiz. Even though this was two days before Christmas Break, they expected it. I passed the papers out and went to observe from the table at the front of the room. 

As I scanned the room for signs of cheating, I felt a sudden undercurrent of tension in my body. Zack was staring at me with an odd, glazed expression. I took quick inventory of my outfit to make sure nothing was unbuttoned or stained, but my shirt was intact and the skirt I had paired it with was falling neatly around the middle of my calves. He was still staring. The silky light blue shirt was definitely not low-cut, although it did have a slight dip to it, and the sleeves were ¾-length. What was he looking at?

He noticed me looking at him, and he blushed and shook himself with a rueful grin. Then he went back to work on his test. In about five more minutes, everyone had finished.

Zack looked at me with the impish face that meant trouble. 

"I really don't want to know whatever it is," I said before he could open his mouth.

He raised an eyebrow. "It's nothing, Miss Martin. I was just wondering how many guys you've gone down on."

Of course, he WOULD ask me that question in front of the whole damn class. I desperately hoped that none of them knew what I was thinking right then. If they did, it wouldn't be long until I lost my job. I should have been furious, but for the space of a few heartbeats, all I could think about was how I wanted to drop to my knees, unzip his faded jeans, and wipe that smug smile off his face. 

"Outside. Now." I managed to sound mad. Yay.

His smile faltered, but then he got up and practically strutted out of the room. I went on with class. About twenty minutes later, the other students were busy with an assignment, and I slipped into the hall with Zack. He was staring moodily at the wall, his good humor evaporated.

"What is wrong with you?" I asked. 

He didn't answer. Maybe it had something to do with my tone.

I sighed. "Zack, you can't ask me questions like that."

He continued glaring at the wall. "You know I didn't mean it."

"That doesn't matter. Since you asked me in front of the whole class, you made it into a big deal whether you meant it or not."

His lips curved into a smile. "You mean if I just asked you now, it would be okay?"

Ah. Yes. There was that annoyance I was missing earlier. "No."

"Damn."

"Language."

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. If you don't want to tell me, I respect your privacy."

"If you do something like this again, I have to turn it in to the office."

"Yes ma'am." 

He stood up and looked at me curiously for a minute. His brown eyes melted into mine, suddenly reminding me of the 3 Musketeers from my dream. I blushed under his gaze, feeling the heat between us kindle.

"What is it?" I asked. My voice sounded breathy. Damn, I needed to get my act together.

He smiled. "Nothing."

"Great. Then get back inside."

**********

I found out later that day why he had been brooding and staring at the wall. After football practice the night before, he had gone home to find his mother with a black eye and a broken arm. Shane, his father, had left the house, probably to avoid Zack—at least that's what the gossip said. I had never in my life wanted to hold someone as much as I wanted to hold Zack at that moment.



Tantalus in Chains Ch. 04



CHAPTER FOUR: DANCE, DANCE

Christmas came and went, and still no one knew where Zack's father had gone. I was constantly amazed by Zack's nonchalance. There was almost no difference in his behavior even though he was now working nearly forty hours a week and also making sure his younger brother and sisters made it to school on time since his mother worked the night shift. Of course, we all did what we could for him, but any form of help made him uncomfortable, so it wasn't much.

I wish I could say that the problems he had to face ended my fascinated with him. If anything, it was worse now than ever. The sheer intensity of his physical presence drew me inexorably.

Today was no exception. The class was working on an independent writing assignment, and Zack was staring absently at the wall. He toyed with the class ring dangling from a chain around his neck, and the unconscious movements of his fingers entranced me. It seemed grossly unfair that he could have that kind of power over me, especially since it had been a long time since he had even jokingly made a pass at me. I sighed.

He detected my gaze and looked at me, then shook himself and returned to the work at hand. And speaking of hands, I abruptly realized that he wasn't wearing his class ring on his finger. The one around his neck wasn't his either. It was a girl's.

I was mortified by the pang of jealousy that stabbed through me. To my own annoyance, I spent the rest of the class period asking myself ridiculous questions, questions about who she was and how long he had been seeing her. I halfway hoped it would be someone I approved of, although I doubted that was remotely possible.

I didn't have to wonder for long. He stopped by after class especially to inform me that he had a girlfriend named Jenn, and they had gotten together that weekend. I couldn't repress a smile at his innocent excitement, and it occurred to me that she might actually be his first girlfriend. His happiness was contagious, and even though my jealousy was far from nonexistent, I was glad that he had something to be happy about.

**********

That gladness evaporated almost instantly a few weeks later when he announced to Chuck, "Jenn and I had a REALLY good time last night."

Zack's hair was rumpled and his eyes wore that drowsy expression that always sped my pulse up. There was a languor over him mixed with an arrogant swagger that told me exactly what kind of good time he and Jenn must have had. It was ridiculous, but I felt an insane urge to find Jenn, whoever she was, and beat the hell out of her.

Chuck listened to Zack, but it was with a kind of amused indulgence. Chuck's sense of humor, friendliness, and good looks made him popular with the girls his age, and Zack wasn't telling him anything Chuck hadn't already known for years. 

Zack caught me staring at him, and he grinned with that spark of mischief. "Don't worry, Miss Martin, there's plenty to go around."

A vivid image of him on top of me took possession of my senses. I found myself staring at Imaginary Naked Zack, a flush creeping over my body. It was at that exact moment that I happened to notice that Actual Zack had a new hole in his jeans, a huge one right in the middle of his crotch. "I'm sure there is," I muttered before I could stop myself.

He raised an eyebrow, but I tried to cover for myself before he could call me on what I said. "If by 'around' you mean around to doing your work so that you can graduate."

I could tell the battle wasn't really over. I gave the class a group assignment and gave them time to work as I floated between groups to help when they needed it. My back was to Zack and Chuck's group when I heard Zack's maddening voice. "I heard this woman on TV last night who got arrested for sleeping with one of her students. I wish I was that lucky."

For once, Zack's sexual discussion didn't fill me with desire. Actually, I knew what he was talking about because I'd seen it, too. She hadn't impressed me favorably. Having an obsession with a student, I could understand; even to some degree actually sleeping with a student. A lot of people underestimate the emotional intimacy of teaching. What I couldn't understand was the woman's repeated insistence that she had no idea it was illegal. The kid was not only her student, he was fourteen. That's double illegal. She sounded like a dumb bimbo to me, and I felt an overpowering urge to turn around and shake Zack for thinking she was appealing. 

Instead, I finished helping the group I was with and then naturally drifted to Zack's group. He was watching me, probably looking to see what I thought about his not-so-subtle attempt to tease me. I looked at him with level eyes and asked about his assignment. I deserved extra points for not even dipping my eyes to that tempting hole in his jeans, which he seemed to be flaunting at me. I kept my eyes where they should be, and I watched his suspicion drain away.

**********

The spring semester always seems to fly by. I couldn't believe it when Prom arrived and Zack was still dating Jenn. I resigned myself to the inevitability of meeting her. In my mental preparation, though, I completely forgot that I would also be seeing him in a tux. When he walked in the door, I almost forgot to look at Jenn. The broad shoulders that had filled out his football jersey also made his tux look incredible. To me, nothing will ever be as sexy as Zack in his jeans and t-shirt, but this tux was definitely a close second. 

When I regained my senses, I turned my attention to Jenn. She was petite, tanned, and blonde with sparkling green eyes. There didn't seem to be anything extraordinary about her besides her beauty, and I was a little disappointed that Zack hadn't chosen someone with more layers. Well, he was a teenage boy, I reminded myself, and I can't really blame him for being superficial at that age.

I watched them dance for a few minutes. It was a slow dance, and she twined her arms around his neck and rested her head on his chest. The look of peace on her face and the answering rapture on his was genuinely touching. He buried his hand in her hair, stroking it softly. More than any other couple, they seemed lost in the moment.

But I couldn't help being afraid for him. It was obvious he was in love with her, and it was equally obvious that she was in love with herself, too. 

The dance ended, and they drifted to the punch bowl (it wasn't spiked, believe it or not). They stood talking for a moment, and then she excused herself. Zack stared after her, and I suddenly wished that he, that ANYONE, would notice me the way he was noticing her. I sighed, realizing that my fantasy of him actually seeing me at all was completely ridiculous.

So I was a little surprised when he did glance over and see me, then head towards me. Butterflies began dancing inside me in ways they hadn't done for a long time. "Bring Me to Life" suddenly blared through the speakers, and even though it was now an old song, the students greeted it with a cheer. 

Zack was standing right in front of me, his eyes blazing into mine, like he was waiting for something. 

"She's beautiful," I said, my voice sounding detached.

"Yeah. I don't really know why she's with me sometimes."

I laughed in disbelief. "You did look in the mirror before you came here tonight, right?"

He blushed. "I want to burn these shoes."

"Join the club," I said, gesturing toward my own six-inch heels. As a rule, I wore flats, but I made an exception for prom.

"You look pretty tonight, Miss Martin."

I swallowed, hoping that he couldn't see how much his compliment meant to me. "Not as pretty as the two of you," I joked.

"No one is as pretty as me." His easy smile faltered. "So... umm... all the other teachers have danced with someone... You should, too."

My heart was hammering. I tried to appear casual. "Not sure I should try to compete with your overwhelming beauty and uncomfortable shoes."

He grinned and took my hand, putting his other arm lightly around my lower back. "So don't try to compete."

His sudden nearness rendered me incapable of protesting, and I swayed with him in stunned silence. I shielded myself desperately, frustrated that I couldn't just enjoy the moment. I suddenly remembered the legend of Tantalus's punishment, how he was forced to stand in a river with a tree just over his head--whenever he was thirsty, the river would recede, and whenever he was hungry, the branch would rise out of his reach. That, I realized as I looked into his eyes, was how it would always be with Zack. No matter how close I came to fulfilling my fantasies with him, they would never be a reality.

He opened his mouth to say something, but just then, Chuck's astonished voice came from behind me. "Oh my God. It's a miracle. No one else could get her to do that all night."

Zack laughed. "I've got the gift, man."

I smiled back at Chuck. "Yeah, the gift of ignoring me when I said no."

Zack frowned. "You didn't say no."

The song ended and I reluctantly tried to disentangle myself from Zack's arms. Even though he wasn't holding me close to him, it wasn't easy to step away from him, and I actually tripped over my own feet. He steadied me, saving me from falling on my face. 

I was thanking him when Chuck laughed, "Maybe she SHOULD have said no if that's how she moves."

"Careful, mister," I said. "You still have a few weeks left till graduation."

Jenn arrived at that moment, pulling Zack away to the strains of "Dance, Dance." Its insistent beat poured into me and became like my own pulse as I let it wash over me. It was some time before I realized Chuck was still standing next to me, frowning at Zack and Jenn.

"I don't like her," he said at last.

I wholeheartedly agreed with him. But I let the moment pass, the moment I knew would be the last time everyone would be together and happy, the last real high school rite of passage. Graduation would be a pointless ceremony in which no one really talked to anyone else and everyone got fake diplomas until the real ones could be printed. This would be the last time I would see Zack really be Zack, or Chuck really be Chuck, or any of them really be themselves. The energy that flowed between Zack and Jenn seemed to summarize the moment in all its beauty and fragility. I let go of my worries and joined Chuck on the dance floor.



Tantalus in Chains Ch. 05



CHAPTER FIVE: TONIGHT

Graduation was over. It had been over for a month. The empty place inside me that belonged to Zack was not getting any fuller. 

I was bent over my lesson planner when I felt the familiar warming sensation that told me Zack was nearby. I was afraid to look up, afraid that it wouldn't be real.

But it was. Zack was leaning against the doorway, looking stricken. "She left me," he said. "Jenn left me."

He looked lost, confused, and broken. Before I could think, I was putting my arms around him. He held on to me like I was the last thing keeping him from drowning. I tried to clear my mind of the heat he was pouring into me, of the soft firmness of his body against mine, of the sharp scent of his cologne dulled by the subtlety of his soap, of the way his hair tickled my face. I closed that part of my brain as I held him and murmured soothing nonsense.

He didn't cry. He just clung to me like he was drinking me in. I swallowed and pulled away, afraid I wouldn't be able to control myself much longer.

"Sit down," I said. "Tell me what happened."

His eyes were utterly without hope, and he fixed them on the ground. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his hair as it dangled in his face. But I listened to him all the same as he told me how Jenn had left him for his brother, how she told him that she had never really cared that much for him, how she had basically behaved like a spoiled fifteen year old princess. 

He was quiet, and I started telling him that he didn't have anything to worry about, that his life was just about to take off.

He didn't look up as he said the words that went right to my heart. "No one has ever really wanted me. No one ever will."

"Don't be an idiot," I said. I sat on my hands to keep from touching him, and my whole body shook with restrained desire.

He snorted bitterly. "Why, do you know something I don't?"

I didn't say anything. I physically couldn't.

He got up and turned his back. "That's what I thought."

He was nearly out the door when I said his name. He stopped.

"Look at me," I said. "Just look at me for a second."

His eyes were dull and uncomprehending as they went over me. "Yeah?"

I rolled my eyes. "God, you really are clueless, aren't you? You have no idea." He was looking at me with a flicker of curiosity, but no understanding. I sighed. Maybe it was best that he didn't understand. 

I got up and went to him. I adopted my best flirty-encouraging smile, the one I used when I tried to convince him to do his homework, but it faltered as I realized I was way outside my comfort zone with this conversation. "Come on Zack, you're... you're very attractive. I mean, for an eighteen year old. "

His smile was a weak imitation of the real thing. "Yeah," he said. "Thanks." 

He started to go again, but I put my hand on his shoulder to stop him. "You can get over this. You WILL get over this. No one I know is stronger than you." The combined sensations of the rise and fall of his chest underneath the palm of my hand and the way he was looking at me with desperate hope took my breath. I knew my eyes were screaming the truth of how I felt, what I wanted from him, but I couldn't look away from him.

Sudden understanding emerged in his eyes. He looked down at my hand on him, and then back to my face. His mouth was open slightly in shock. 

I opened my mouth to say something, to say anything to dissipate the tension.

"Don't," he murmured. I couldn't have spoken if I wanted to because his hands were on my waist now. I tried to say his name, to ask him if he really wanted this, but his lips were less than an inch from mine and I couldn't think fast enough. "Don't tell me no," he said, and his breath tickled against my lips.

Every part of me was waiting, concentrated in the throbbing hope that he would close the space between us. A second later, he did. I had imagined him kissing me a million times, but never like this. His kiss was slow and deep, but infinitely gentle. I pressed my body against his more firmly and tangled my hands in his hair. The silky coolness under my fingertips screamed triumphantly through my skin.

Then his kiss became hungry, and I forgot to think about his hair. My heart was in my throat, pounding insistently with the desire he had awakened in me over the past year. 

We broke the kiss at the same time. "Shit," he said. He looked slightly shell shocked. "Shit," he repeated. He was feverishly stroking my cheekbones with his thumbs, and I had a feeling he was going to kiss me again at any moment. His voice was ragged as he managed to express more than a syllable: "Can you please explain to me why you're single if you kiss like that?"

I laughed and blushed. Then I shut my eyes as I steeled myself to say what I needed to say. "Zack, are you sure this is what you want from me?"

He froze. "What the hell are you talking about?" 

"It's just...I... I'm supposed to mentor you."

He raised an eyebrow. "I do actually need some mentoring. I've got a couple of things you could help me out with." His voice was suggestive, but playful.

"Be serious, Zack. I care about you."

"I know. That's why I kissed you." 

"We need to think about this."

"Fuck thinking," he said, real heat creeping into his voice, and he crushed his lips down on mine. I couldn't even pretend that I wanted him to stop. While he moved his lips in firm, slow undulations, I pressed my hand against his chest, feeling his heart thudding steadily. He was so warm, so solid, even more than I thought he would be. I gasped into his mouth as he dipped his thumb underneath my shirt to graze the small of my back. I felt his mouth curve into a smile at my response, and in one fluid motion he ended the kiss to bury his lips in the hollow of my neck. I knew he could feel how my pulse sped up for him as he flicked his tongue against my tender skin. 

The pleasure was so intense that I couldn't think, couldn't process anything. "Zack," I said, my voice a breathy whisper. I didn't know what I was asking, for him to stop or to keep going.

"Hmm?" He never raised his head from my neck, and his voice was slightly muffled. His hand was creeping up my back.

"We have to stop," I said. My body screamed in protest against my brain, but I managed to still his hands with my own. I didn't have the heart to stop his mouth, but I managed to gasp, "We can't do this here." 

He trailed rough kisses up my neck until his mouth was against my ear. "Tonight, then." His voice was heavy with desire. 

"But—" I said, the beginnings of a final plea for sanity. He took my earlobe in his mouth. That was all it took for him to win the battle. 

"Yes," I acquiesced breathily. "Tonight."



Tantalus in Chains Ch. 06



CHAPTER SIX: Unmasked

I spent the rest of the day trying to talk myself out of it. I rearranged all of the reasons against it. Never mind the fact that my body screamed for his touch, or that I was undeniably in love with him. Never mind the fact that every orgasm I'd experienced in the past six months had been accompanied by his feverishly whispered name. Zack was so young, and if I slept with him, it would be taking advantage, especially now that he was emotionally vulnerable from Jenn. He needed me to be his guide, his older sister, not just some girl he fucked.

He was suddenly knocking softly at my door. My breath caught at his twilit body on the threshold of my apartment. I didn't bother to hide the expression on my face. It was kind of pointless now.

He grinned and came in. "So... I didn't park my truck anywhere near here," he said. "Figured people would gossip."

I reluctantly closed the door behind him. "Zack, don't you think maybe this is kind of... crazy?"

"How long have you wanted me?" he asked.

My face was flaming. "Do I really have to answer that?"

"If you want me to pretend like I should seriously consider walking out of here without touching you, then yeah."

I raised an eyebrow. "I never said anything about not touching me."

He stepped closer. The tension between us was palpable. He trailed his fingers across my forearm, then stroked his thumb underneath it. He watched my eyes darken with desire.

"How long?" he asked again, this time without the playfulness. "I barely touch you, and your whole body responds to me... how long have you been hiding this?" 

I raised his hand to my lips, his rough skin chafing against the sensitive, throbbing nerve endings. His eyes burned into mine. "Too long," I finally said. 

I dropped his hand and turned away. "Look, Zack, I can't lie to you. I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone, but I don't know if this is right."

"It can't be wrong to want something," he said, his voice soft. "It's not what you want, but what you do that's wrong or right."

I turned to look at him, surprised that he wasn't just trying to seduce me. "That's kind of my point," I said. "I don't want to do something that is wrong, especially if it will hurt you. I don't just want you. I love you."

His eyes widened slightly, and I rushed to qualify my statement before he could run screaming out the door. "I've watched you struggle with burden after burden, watched you be ignored and undervalued, watched you come out on top against all odds... how could I not love you? You need someone to be there for you, someone uncomplicated."

He was quiet for what seemed an eternity as he thought about what I said. "You have never been uncomplicated, Miss Martin," he finally replied.

I sighed, disappointment creeping in despite the fact that I knew it was for the best that he leave. "So I guess you understand what I'm saying to you."

His eyes flickered fire at me. "You're scared that we're going to do this and I'm not going to need you anymore."

"It's not that simple," I hastily defended myself. "You need someone who doesn't always want something from you. Someone who can take care of you."

I trailed off at the dangerous look in his eyes. Maybe that was what I needed to be to him, I realized abruptly. Maybe this had never been about him, or not entirely. I had been forcing myself to believe he was a child in need of my protection. But I had to admit Zack was not a child. He had never been a child since I knew him. He carried the full responsibilities of a man. 

Before I could retract my statement, he spoke. "But you DO always want something from me. Do you think I can live with that, with knowing that you're sacrificing yourself out of some crazy idea that you'll corrupt me, that you have to protect me? I can take care of myself."

I didn't answer.

He sighed. "You've done everything for me... everything. I owe you more than my life. You want me to go, I'll go." He stepped close to me and tilted my chin up. "Tell me what you want," he said. "Just tell me."

I finally allowed myself the luxury of stroking his lips with my thumbs. The smooth ridges of his mouth slid under my skin. He stood unmoving, waiting for me to speak, but his eyes pulsed with his own growing desire. "You," I finally said. "I want you."

He kissed my thumbs, then my forehead. He captured my face between his hands and slowly lowered his head. His kiss was deep and frantic, a kiss that only intensified the need pulsing through me. I clung to him, helpless against the flood of emotions that rose to meet the urgency of his breath mingling with mine. He lifted me onto the countertop, and the solid sensation of his body between my thighs made me tremble.

He was kissing my neck again, and then he was moving his mouth lower. He slid his fingers underneath the back clasp of my bra, and I arched my back in surprised pleasure. I blushed when I realized that I had basically pressed my breasts into his face.

He looked up at me playfully. "You could have just asked."

"Sorry," I giggled. "You were taking too long."

His smile deepened. "I filled out all those damn standardized test forms for you. The least you can do is let me take my time." 

He moved his fingers delicately, and I arched my back again, tightening my own hands on the fabric of his shirt. "God, Zack, that feels amazing."

He answered by brushing his mouth over the exposed skin just above my shirt. It was a v-neck shirt that stopped just above my cleavage, one that wasn't obscenely low but definitely lower than I had ever worn to school. I shivered and twined my fingers in his hair, pressing him against me. He flicked his tongue just beneath the collar of my shirt as he jerked his thumbs hard over my back. 

My whole body spasmed in response. He was looking at me with that teasing light in his eyes that always drove me insane. "I had no idea you were such a tease," I finally managed.

"I thought you knew me so well, too. Can't say that I'm too surprised by you, though. I always thought you'd be a hair puller."

I blushed and disentangled my hands. 

"I didn't say I don't like it," he added, pushing his lower lip out into a pout.

"That's adorable. You know, if you were just a little cuter, that lip sticking out would be irresistible."

His eyes travelled down from my face to my breasts, and my face flushed as I realized he could see more of my cleavage than he had ever seen before. 

He swore softly, and his breath tickled my skin. He lowered his mouth to mine again, quickening his hands on my body. I stood on tiptoe to press tighter against him, tucking my thumbs into the belt loops on the back of his jeans. My thumbs brushed his back, and I suddenly needed to touch his bare skin. I tugged his shirt upwards, which was not as easy as it sounds considering I was still melting into his kiss. My palms drank in the firm smoothness of his back, then began wandering other palces. When my hands brushed the gentle swell of his chest, I broke from his mouth, gasping as I looked at his nearly-naked torso. He had the body of a god, if there were any gods with broad shoulders and not-quite toned stomachs. 

He shrugged his shirt the rest of the way off, and then he looked at me. He laughed at the look on my face, a sharp, surprised laugh. "Are you ogling me?"

I attempted to blink my eyes innocently. "No?"

"You do realize that's what I was going to do to you when I finally got that shirt off of you?"

"Sorry." I didn't sound at all sorry as my eyes flickered over his body. "Holy God, I could look at you forever."

He started to make some snide comment, but he stopped midsentence when I pressed my lips against his neck. I flattened my palms over his chest. His skin was impossibly smooth under my hands. I dragged my mouth lower, flicking my tongue between his pecs. I slid my hands around to his back pressing his body closer to me as I moved my head lower, feeling the soft firmness of his abs beneath my lips. He had gone very still, and I glanced up at his face. His eyes were two smoldering coals beneath drooping lids. I flicked my tongue into his belly button, and he shuddered underneath me. 

It was like something in him snapped. He pulled my face to his and kissed me hard and quick, then brought his lips down to my neck with a series of frantic kisses that he began to trail lower and lower, covering all of my exposed skin. My body was on fire for him.

He tugged at my shirt, and I finally managed to pull it the rest of the way off. His thumbs moved restlessly on my waist as he stared at my exposed skin. I watched his eyes trace the contours of my powder blue satin bra.

He pressed a gentle kiss on each breast, and then he looked at me. "Do the panties match?"

I blushed, too breathless to respond. 

"Guess there's one way to find out. You're incredibly sexy when you're modest, you know that?" He was unbuttoning my jeans. "I used to say things on purpose so you would blush."

"No fair." I pouted. 

"What's not fair is how you blink those big baby blue eyes at me and get whatever you want."

I giggled. "Is that really all I have to do?"

"Pretty much."

I batted my eyes. "Kiss me."

He brushed his lips gently over mine, barely touching me. I pulled his face down and kissed him harder, gently nipping his lower lip. He pulled back long enough to push my jeans from my hips to the floor, and then he recaptured my mouth. He kissed me hard and deep, plunging his tongue between my lips. I knew I was pulling his hair again, and he kissed me harder.

When he stopped kissing me, I was breathless. He was smirking at me. "It doesn't work quite that well if you ask me to do something I don't want to do."

I tried for a witty comeback, but came up short. My bare skin was surrounded by his, and the sweet, sharp scent of him was achingly delicious. He looked down at me with warm eyes. "Do you have to smell so good?" I murmured.

"It's just something I have to deal with every day." 

His jeans were cool and comforting against my bare legs. Zack stepped back and let his eyes rove over me, a deep, slow fire kindling in his eyes as he satisfied his curiosity about my matching bra and panties. No man had ever looked at me quite that way before. 

"What?" I asked.

He put his hands on my arms, stroking gently. "I'm not sure how I kept from fucking you on your desk today."

I shivered as his hands crept higher. He hooked his thumbs underneath the straps of my bra and began tugging them gently down. He lowered his head and I thought he was going to kiss my shoulder, but instead he blew soft, warm air that made me gasp. 

He pulled me tight against him as his hands trailed to work on the clasp of my bra. My face was pressed against his chest. "I used to fantasize about that," he murmured into my ear as he pulled ineffectively against the hooks at my back. "You'd be talking about Keats or Shakespeare or some shit, and I would imagine just getting out of my seat, carrying you back to your desk, and laying you out on top of it."

"God, Zack," I gasped. 

He managed to undo the clasp. I pulled his head down and kissed him as I shrugged my bra off, letting it slide to the floor. My breasts ached for his touch as they pressed into his skin. He pulled away to look at me. His eyes softened, flickering restlessly over the tightening buds of my nipples. 

Sudden hesitation crept into his eyes, like he wasn't sure he should touch me.

It almost killed me, but I managed to say, "Zack... you don't have to do this. You know that right?"

He just looked at me.

I continued. "I don't want you to do something you don't want to do. I mean... I'm older than you... I'll understand if you don't want me."

He looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. Then he laughed. "You really have no idea how many times I've imagined actually looking at you naked, how many times I've wanted to touch you this way. It's like... what do you do when your fantasy comes true?"

He had expressed my feelings perfectly, and my heart throbbed with something deeper than desire. "I don't know," I finally admitted. 

He sank down on the couch looking bewildered. I came to sit beside him and he pulled me onto his lap. He rested his hands on my waist, stroking restlessly up and down. I realized abruptly that he wasn't repulsed by my appearance. He was nervous. It made me want to hold him closer, to reassure him. I kissed him deeply, trying to express everything I felt about him without using the words I knew would fail me. He let me take charge, responding to my lips but not controlling the kiss. 

He began moving his fingertips in teasing circles across my stomach, edging closer to my breasts but never touching them. My kiss became more urgent as he teased me, and I turned slightly in his arms to straddle him. I could feel his hardness pressing into my thigh through his jeans. 

I broke the kiss, my heart in my throat. He pressed a series of teasing kisses just above my breasts, his hands still moving maddeningly close. "Zack..." I managed to gasp.

"What is it?" His voice was husky.

"I need you," I said. "God, I need you to touch me."

His face tightened with his own need, a need that quickly transformed into mischief. "I am touching you."

I swore. "Don't be such a little prick."

"It's not little," he smirked, a touch of his arrogance returning. "But I guess you'll find out soon enough."

A frustrated cross between a sigh and a scream escaped me. "I hope you realize you're going to pay for this later."

"That's completely unfair. I'm doing what you asked. Where do you want me to touch you? You always said for us to give you details, and you're being really nondescriptive."

I just glared at him.

"Here?" he asked, brushing his thumb along the bottom of my breast. My body uncoiled towards him as he withdrew his hand.

"Or maybe here?" He stroked his other thumb across my left nipple. I felt it give under his thumb, then spring back to its original position.

I managed to bat my eyes at him. "If you spend one more second torturing me, I am going to get up off this couch and put my clothes back on."

"Fuck that." He pinned me to him with one hand, and he cupped the other one just above my right breast. A heartbeat later, he closed the space between his hand and my aching flesh. The shock of my gratified desire jolted my whole body. The look of savage passion on his face echoed the hunger I felt for him. He squeezed slowly, savoring the way my breast felt in his hand. A slow, deep throb in my pussy answered his touch. He started kneading the flesh faster, more firmly, and his other hand cupped my left breast.

I moaned for him, and he looked at me in surprise. "It feels that good?" he asked. His innocence was unexpectedly disarming.

I kissed him on the forehead. "I've wanted this for so long... I never thought that if it really happened, it would be better than I imagined."

He looked shocked. "You imagined this? Really?"

I blushed suddenly. Then I confessed about the Halloween Blowpop.

For once, he was blushing. "Wow. I wasn't messing with you on purpose."

"I know. But I couldn't stop thinking about your mouth on my body." I traced his lips with my thumb. "You have the most sensual mouth, Zack. Everything about you is sensual. I can't believe you would seriously think I wouldn't be putty in your hands."

The look on his face told me what he was going to do just an instant before he did it. He darted forward and took my nipple in his mouth. Even prepared, I was blown away by the sensation. He held my nipple inside his mouth, then flicked it with his tongue. He repeated the motion faster, again, then again. His eyes promised screaming pleasure. I shuddered just before he captured my nipple between his teeth. My gasp became a moan, and then he resumed his teasing flicks of the tongue. His other hand moved restlessly on my breast, my stomach, my back.

My eyes were beginning to roll back into my head when he stopped. It was a physical pain to lose his mouth on my body. "God, don't stop," I said. I felt ridiculous. That was the kind of thing I tried never to say during sex because it was just so—

He pressed a kiss against the valley between my breasts, and I forgot to finish my thought. "You're close, aren't you?" he murmured against my flesh.

I was. Oh my God, I hadn't even realized it, but I was just seconds shy of an explosive orgasm, and I wasn't even completely naked yes. "Yes," I said. "You are so damned good at this."

He grinned up at me. "Show me how good," he said, and then he captured my other breast in his mouth. All the blood in my body felt like liquid gold as it throbbed through my veins, gold that Zack was melting and melting and melting.

My back began a slow arch, Zack pressing closer to me as he sucked and nipped my breasts. I didn't mean to at first, but my pelvis began rolling sinuously forward until my clit bumped his hardness. He growled against my skin.

I stiffened as if bracing myself for an attack. I uttered his name, a surprised whisper. It was like there was something I wanted to tell him, but couldn't find the words. He knew what it was, or at least his body did. He rocked his hips forward as he sucked hard on the tender flesh in his mouth. Without any real warning, I came. I felt defenseless as the orgasm crashed over me. I twined my arms around his neck, holding onto him as he brought me the satisfaction I'd wanted for so long, gasping his name over and over as I rode the waves of pleasure. Barely conscious of what I was doing, I rolled sideways to lie on my back, pulling him down with me.



Tantalus in Chains Ch. 07



CHAPTER SEVEN: PLAYING DIRTY

When my eyes focused again, he was looking down at me, stroking my face with a tenderness I hadn't expected from him. I giggled a little self-consciously. "I wish I would have known about the eye-batting thing when you were still my student. Think of all the homework you would have done."

"You still haven't asked me to do anything I don't want to do," he said. He moved his hand from my face to my stomach, stroking lazy circles across it. "You okay?"

"I don't remember the last time I came that hard," I said. 

His hand was creeping lower, and I tensed in anticipation. He smiled, apparently unaware of the effect he was having on me. "You're just saying that so that I'll fuck you." 

"Maybe," I meant to say, attempting to be coy. Unfortunately, he chose that moment to tuck his thumb under the silky waistband of my panties, so what I actually said was, "Mmmmm..."

He looked happy with himself. I rolled my eyes. "You know, I was going to tell you more about how great you were, but if you're going to play dirty..."

"Isn't that what you want?" The walls of my pussy contracted hard, once, in response.

"You know it is," I breathed, the laughter fading from my voice.

"How dirty do you want me to play?" He was stroking his thumb rhythmically.

I hoped my eyes told him how desperately I still wanted him, but in case they didn't, I said, "Can't you feel how wet I am for you?"

He found my clit with his thumb and rubbed once, hard. He looked smug when he saw my reaction. "You're going to be wetter, soon."

It seemed like I had waited an eternity to hear him promise me that. There are a lot of things in my life that I've looked forward to, and almost none of them measured up to my fantasies. But Zack's hands, his body, his intensity... I couldn't believe it, but I'd actually gotten it about right. I stared at him in amazement. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" 

He smiled. "It sure as hell wasn't assigning all those essays."

"You didn't do half of them, anyway," I murmured, tracing circles on his arms.

He grinned mischievously. "I was thinking about other things when I studied for your class."

I blinked innocently. "Like what?"

"Like your mouth on my dick." 

I shivered and let my hands drift over his chest, down his stomach, to his jeans, where I started undoing the button. "Funny, I was thinking about the same thing, but I still managed to do my job."

He had frozen when I started unbuttoning his jeans, like he was scared that if he moved, I'd change my mind. "Oh my God," he murmured. "I just remembered that I asked you how many guys you went down on."

I blushed. "Yeah, that was definitely like waving raw meat in front of a tiger."

"Raw meat, huh?" His voice was suggestive.

"Yeah. Raw meat." My eyes were fixed on his jeans as I slid them down his body, knowing that I was finally going to see him naked. 

He murmured something. I really have no idea what he said because he was in his boxers. I couldn't wait long enough to finish undressing him before I touched him. I slid my hand along his smooth skin until I found the base of his shaft. My palm screamed for it, and a shudder went through my body as I finally closed my fist around him. He was hard and thick, and the knowledge that he would be inside me soon made my heartbeat quicken. For once, he didn't have a smart comment. 

"Holy shit," he gasped as I pulsed my hand forward. I stopped before I reached the tip, and I stroked my thumb sinuously along the ridge behind the head. I pulled my hand back to the base and started stroking faster, more firmly. He moaned, and surrendered to my touch. 

But not for long. "You have to stop," he murmured. "God, if you don't stop I'm going to cum, and I want to fuck you."

I stopped and pouted. "Does that mean I don't get to go down on you?"

He was genuinely surprised. "You mean you want to?"

I just looked at him.

"Oh my God." He laughed, got down on one knee, and jokingly said, "Miss Martin, will you marry me?"

I rolled my eyes. "I don't know. Are you any good in the sack?"

He dropped his smoldering eyes to my perky breasts, then continued devouring my body with them. He opened his mouth to say something, but the lust he kindled in me made me too aggressive to let him say it. I got up from the couch and pulled him to his feet, pressing my body tight against his. I abruptly realized I was still wearing my blue silk panties. I tugged at his boxers until they fell in a pile on the floor, and then I swished my hips against his cock. He sucked in his breath at the sensation. 

I could have teased him longer, but my urgency was growing. Instead I pushed him back onto the couch and crawled between his legs. I sat transfixed for a moment by the reality of his cock just inches from my face. As if in a trance, I leaned forward and pressed a soft, warm kiss on the head and felt him shiver beneath me. 

I slid my lips over the tip, then gradually took more of him in slow pulses forward. The look on his face told me that no one had ever made him feel the way I did. When he was almost completely buried in my mouth, his eyelids fluttered shut. 

"Seriously, will you marry me?" he asked.

I laughed with him still in my mouth, knowing the vibrations would drive him crazy. They did. I swirled my tongue around the shaft in unpredictable swipes. I pulled back, finally releasing him. 

"Don't stop," he said, sounding forlorn. 

"I want to taste your cum," I murmured.

His eyes fanned into flames and he nudged his hips forward, pressing his cock against my lips. I opened my mouth and took him inside me, sucking and licking in a frenzy. He thrust in and out, fucking my mouth in slow strokes. I pressed my hands gently around his balls, feeling him tense. His voice was tinged with awe as he breathed, "Oh God..." 

I trailed my fingers along his body and twined my arms around his back, using it to pull myself tighter against him. I relaxed my throat and took all of him into my mouth, pressing him deeply inside me. "Yeah," he grunted, his voice rising. "Fuck, yeah..."

I moved my mouth back and forth on him, feeling him get closer and closer to the edge. My hands were everywhere, the feeling of his skin beneath my palms driving me to do things to him that I'd never done to anyone. He was breathing in short gasps, urging me on with a steady stream of "Yeah, baby, fuck yeah"s that drove me to distraction.

"I'm cumming," he said, tensing. "Swallow it for me, Miss Martin. Swallow it all."

The first spurt always seems to take me by surprise, but it was even more surprising this time—when he called me 'Miss Martin,' I felt my own body surrender to orgasm. My throat worked furiously as I struggled to swallow every drop of his cum in the midst of my own unexpected response. I'd never cum while going down on someone before. 

When he was spent, he looked at me in complete adoration for a moment before pulling me up into his arms. He stretched me across his lap with one arm curved beneath my back and one resting over my stomach. I could feel his satiated cock pressing against my thigh. Zack looked into my eyes as he absently stroked my stomach. "You just came again," he observed.

I blushed. "Well, you seem to have that effect on me. You don't even want to know what it was like trying to teach you when you wore those jeans with the hole in the crotch."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why do you think I wore them?"

I glared at him, genuinely surprised. "That is just... EVIL."

He was still sluggish with satisfied lust, but when he saw the look on my face, he grinned.  "Not evil, wishful. If I had thought for one second that you actually noticed..."

I shivered and cuddled closer to him, feeling suddenly embarrassed. "What would you have done?" 

He was quiet for so long that I wondered if he had fallen asleep. Surrounded by his warm flesh, I tried to forget the inevitable problems that would assail us when he left my house. I tried to forget that most people would think my passion for him was either ridiculous or obscene. I tried to forget everything but the sensation of his nearness, knowing I might never feel it again.

"I don't know," he finally responded. His hands quickened on my body. "I probably would have cornered you in the copy room after school one day and done something kind of like this." He squeezed my breasts, rolling the nipples between his fingers. The unexpected sensation made me squirm and gasp as I clung to him. 

"God, Zack, how do you do this to me?" 

He didn't answer. His eyes burned into me as he stroked his hands down my body, finally finding my clit again. He rubbed in a gentle circle, watching my expression turn from helpless pleasure to crazed desire. 

"I want you," I said. "Please, Zack, I want you so much."

He slid his fingers to the opening of my pussy. "You're so wet," he murmured. Then he slipped one finger inside. Something inside me began uncoiling for him, some part of me that had been waiting for him to enter my body since the first time I laid eyes on him. My pussy contracted, trying to keep him inside me, but he pulled his hand back with excruciating slowness. He plunged two fingers into me a half second later. 

Zack smiled fiercely. "I was hoping that would make you bite your lip like that," he said. I blushed under his gaze, realizing abruptly that I was in fact biting my lip. "I'm going to make you cum so hard," he said. He pushed his fingers in deeper, using his other hand to rub my clit. He started moving his hand inside me hard and fast, and I lost track of what he was doing to me as my body opened itself to his touch. It was useless to try to maintain any kind of dignity. The room around me blurred to nothingness, and I could only think about what he was making me feel. 

I was breathing faster than before as I felt my climax building. It felt so good that I couldn't even formulate words. I hoped he could tell from the way I was writhing and moaning in his hands that he was amazing. 

And then I came in screaming ecstasy. 

I was dimly aware that he was saying, "Are you cumming for me, Miss Martin?" It made me cum harder, so hard that I was sitting up and digging my nails into his back. 

I looked into his velvety brown eyes and shivered at the answering fire I saw there. He was suddenly an irresistible mixture of sex god and vulnerable puppy dog. My body shuddered a final time with the orgasm he had just given me, and I collapsed against him. It took me a second to realize that I was murmuring into his ear, "Fuck me Zack. I need you to fuck me now." 



Tantalus in Chains Ch. 08



CHAPTER EIGHT: UNCHAINED

Zack's hands tightened on my waist as my words washed over him. My body cried out for him to take me, to show me that he wanted me as much as I wanted him. I sucked his earlobe into my mouth and flicked it with my tongue. He responded with a low moan, one that vibrated across my neck as he lowered his lips to the hollow of my throat. His teasing tongue didn't ease my growing frustration.

"Are you literally trying to drive me crazy?" I asked.

"Could be. Or maybe I just want to hear you repeat what you want me to do to you."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not entirely sure I should stroke your ego that much."

"I have something else you could stroke instead." 

"Don't change the subject." I pouted playfully.

"From what?" 

"How you're teasing me so mercilessly. I've been wanting this since August. It's so unfair."

He pretended innocence, a mask that barely covered the flicker of surprise that burned through his eyes. "What have you been wanting?"

I wrapped my hand around his half-erect cock and gave one sinuous stroke. "This," I said, a touch of annoyance in my voice. I'm not sure how much annoyance actually came through, though, because the feel of him in my hand was exhilarating. "You, pounding this into me."

He squeezed his eyes shut and breathed a shuddery sigh as I stroked his cock again. Then he picked me up. I was shocked at the suddenness of his movement, shocked by the way his skin surrounded me, shocked by the scent of his soft hair tickling my face. I barely noticed that we were moving until we collapsed onto the bed together. His mouth and hands were everywhere. He kissed me deeply, almost deeply enough to assuage my desperate longing for his body. When he broke the kiss, he was looking at me with a mixture of wonder and disbelief, as if suddenly unsure that I could possibly want him this way. It was a look that went straight to my heart.

"If you wait one more second, I'm going to explode," I murmured.

Savage lust filled his face, and then he was inside me. My back arched deeply at the sensation as my pussy convulsed with a long pulse of exquisite pleasure, pleasure that built as it seemed to explode through my body. All I could do was gasp, or something between a gasp and a moan.

He pushed in deeper with excruciating slowness. Everything inside me opened to him—all the walls I usually keep for protection dissolved with his relentless forward movement. My gasp became the kind of sigh that goes with getting into a tub of warm water after a long, exhausting day. Him inside me felt right, and for the first time all year, I felt complete.

His eyes were wide, surprised by the intensity of my response and his own. He recovered quickly and he began to really fuck me. I watched his eyes focus on my tits as they bounced from the force of his thrusts. I couldn't believe how deep he pushed into me, how completely satisfying he was. 

"Yes... Oh God, Zack, you feel so good," I moaned. My voice jumped as he pounded me. 

"You are so incredible," he said, speeding the pace of his thrusts. "I'm never going to stop fucking you."

I met his thrusts with desperate need, half afraid he would vanish at any moment leaving me empty and alone. I clung to him as he moved inside me, feeling my skin melt into his as the passion I had felt all year burned through us. 

He dragged his lips lower, and the sensations of his hair against my face started a shivery reaction that combined with the power of his thrusts to send me over the edge of orgasm. I screamed for him as I dug my nails into his back. 

I dissolved. There was nothing but the release of all that had been building between us. The rest of the universe swam in a mass of glittering darkness.

Consciousness came back in a slow tide, and I became aware that I was spooned against Zack's body. The solid warmth of his chest at my back was everything I had always hoped it would be. His breath was a soft breeze against my hair, which tickled my neck and ears. His arms were warm and surprisingly soft around me. My fingertips moved with an impulse of their own, gliding across his skin. He shivered under my touch.

"Haven't you done enough?" he asked playfully.

I frowned as I abruptly realized I missed his own orgasm. "Umm... I guess I don't know." 

He snorted. "I thought you were supposed to be smart."

I was blushing. "Well, I kind of missed the show at the end."

His soft laugh rumbled through his body into mine. "I guess that means I'll have to do it again sometime."

"Promise?" I murmured as drowsiness began to close over me.

The only answer I got was another soft, rumbly laugh, and then I was asleep.

**********

Zack vanished for a solid week. It was partly my own fault. He actually called me after about four days, but I didn't answer the phone. Instead, I spent hours torturing myself with questions about whether I could see him again, but I already knew the answers. It was never going to work between the two of us. There were just too many things to stop us. Maybe Zack knew that, too, because he didn't call again.

And then I ran into him at Wal Mart. I was scouring the sparse selection of candy for an afternoon pick-me-up when I heard his voice behind me. My nerves jumped in giddy anticipation when I saw his tanned fingers restlessly curling around a bottle of Pepsi, leaving streaks in the rapidly forming condensation. I tried desperately to remind my nerves that they had nothing to anticipate, that it was over with Zack. Then I met his eyes. I had always assumed that sleeping with him would appease my body and I would be able to stand beside him without humming with need. Instead, his eyes unlocked things inside me that they hadn't been able to touch before, and it was only with a supreme effort of will that I managed to keep from touching him.

I was blushing, but I tried to cover it with my trademark friendly smile. "Hey stranger," I said, shooting for and nearly scoring a casual tone.

"Hey." He was far from casual, unfortunately. He was practically seething with dark emotion. I couldn't tell if it was lust or anger, but it suited him.

I couldn't help it. I put my hand on his arm. My body shuddered at the contact. "What's wrong?" I asked.

He just looked at me. I blushed harder, because his expression became practically verbal. Anyone would have known that sex was behind it. I dropped my hand from his arm and stepped back.

"I guess I should go," I said hastily, hoping that no one had in fact observed us. "It was good seeing you."

"You too," he muttered.

I hurriedly checked out and left, making a beeline for my car. I needed to get out of here. Unfortunately, my hasty exit was halted by my engine's decision to stop working. Zack saw me standing with my arms folded over my ribs, and he knew what my narrowed eyes and tapping foot meant. The tension seemed to melt away from him as he came to stand beside me. 

"I can look at it if you want me to," he offered.

I shrugged, and he poked his head under the hood and then into the driver's seat to check the gages. Then he re-emerged. "It's not working," he offered. "That's about how much I can tell you about it." 

I laughed in spite of myself. "Brilliant assessment. I'll be sure to call you next time I need an expert's opinion." Then I sighed. "I left my insurance card at school, so I can't even call a stupid tow truck."

His eyes flickered beneath a casual veneer. "Need a ride?"

Images blazed through my brain. Being in his truck, with him so close, the tantalizing warmth of his body practically against mine... I was trying to say no when I heard myself say yes.

He eased the truck out of the parking lot. The quickest way to the school involved a network of back roads I could never seem to navigate, but all the high school students knew. It was still a good twenty minutes away, even using the back roads. I tried to make conversation about anything at all to make the moment seem natural. 

Then he cut through my shallow small talk. "Are we over? Is that why you didn't answer your phone?"

I blinked, a little surprised by his directness. "I don't know. Is there a 'we'?"

"Do you want there to be a 'we'?"

The sun played across his tawny skin in ripples, and I ached to touch him. I settled for burying my fingers into the soft leather of his jacket, the one that had driven me insane during the year. He had apparently left it in the cab of his truck when winter changed to spring. Its rich scent enveloped me as I worked it between my fingers. It didn't make it any easier to say what I needed to say, but I said it anyway. "Zack... you know I care for you. I just don't see how there can be a relationship with us. I was your teacher. People won't understand that. And you have to go away. You can't stay here."

He pondered what I said for a few minutes before replying. "I'm trying to hear what you're saying, Miss Martin. But if you really think that, I must not have done to you what you did to me. All I can think about is you underneath me. It's driving me crazy not touching you right now. "

My heart hammered twice before I said, "Pull over."

"What?" His voice was confused.

"Pull over." I was undoing my seatbelt. I barely noticed that he was, in fact, pulling over as I slid across the seat toward him. He had just put the truck in park when I captured his face in my hands and stared into his eyes, letting my hunger for him blaze across my face. "It is torture for me to be away from you. I think about you all the time. I wake up at night remembering how you felt inside me. I came harder than I ever have in my life. You made me feel things I never imagined were possible. You were amazing, and sometimes I want you more than air."

Then I closed the space between our lips, kissing him with all the intensity of the passion that had been building in my body. We tugged at each other's clothes, and soon I was straddling him, running my fingers over his bare chest. He squeezed my breasts savagely, and I moaned and bucked against him. I dropped my hands to unbutton his fly, desperate to feel his cock in my hands. 

It was just as smooth and firm as I remembered it. I couldn't believe how hard he already was. I slid from his lap to rest between his legs, tugging his jeans down with me. My lips were a breath away from his cock when I paused and looked up into his tense, expectant face. 

"Don't think I'm going to do this every time you think I'm not attracted to you."

His laugh was shaky. "Whatever you say."

I rose slightly on my knees and pressed my lips against his abs, drinking in the smell of his skin. "God, you're gorgeous," I murmured against his body as I moved lower. Then I blushed, realizing I had just sounded like a ridiculous fangirl.

He opened his mouth to respond, but I stopped him by choosing that moment to lick a long, teasing line along his shaft. I would have kept teasing him longer, but I frankly lacked the willpower. Instead, I pulled the head of his cock into my mouth and began licking soft swirls around it. 

"Fuck," he moaned. "How do you do that?"

I smiled up at him with my eyes as I moved a little farther down his shaft.

"Wait," he said, pulling back with obvious effort. He took my breasts in his hands almost reverently, then squeezed them tight together. "I'm going to fuck your tits, Miss Martin. Is that okay?"

I moaned as a shudder went through my body. He seemed to take that as acquiescence because he started working his hardening dick into my cleavage. His fingers pressed into my sensitive flesh, and the way he felt between my tits was indescribable. 

"Zack..." I gasped as the head of his cock shoved through.

"What is it? Do you want me to stop?"

I laughed. "Only if you want me to strangle you. God, you feel good."

He pulled back and thrust forward again, over and over, shaking my whole body with the force. His balls slapped against my skin, and the effect was mind-blowing. He stopped with a sudden growl. "I need to be inside you."

"Yes," I gasped as I scrambled to straddle him again. "Fuck, yes. Fuck me hard, Zack. I want you so much."

There was a desperate moment of positioning ourselves, and then he drove his cock into my pussy. It was a different intensity than our first time. The first time, we had been careful and moved almost painfully slowly. Now, we devoured each other with raging hunger, trying to make up for the week we had been apart. I buried my face in his hair as I breathed in ragged gasps. He pressed tense lips to my neck as he bounced me up and down with the force of his thrusts. 

"Oh God," I moaned as my body's tension built. "I'm cumming Zack, you're going to make me cum so hard. FUCK, you're amazing."

When it came, the orgasm was savage instead of epic. It screamed through me like a runaway train. I felt him explode just after I did. His soft growls told me his orgasm was as savage as mine. 

When I came down from my high, I was still straddling him. He still had his face against my neck, and his breathing was still a little uneven. I was suddenly aware that anyone could drive by and see us, although it was unlikely during the summer. The moment would have to end soon, and I didn't want it to. I brushed my lips across his hair, holding him close to me. 

"I guess we have to get to the school," I finally sighed.

I could feel him smiling against my skin. "Or not."

I rolled my eyes, releasing him. "I guess I could just get you to drive me everywhere."

He smirked. "I'll give you a ride any time. All you have to do is ask."

I ignored him and straightened my shirt. 

"No response? But I used a euphemism. Which I learned how to do in your class. I don't get any credit for that?"

I couldn't suppress a smile. "I think you already got your credit for that. Okay. Seriously. School."

He grinned as he pulled his jeans back on. "I don't really think you need to go, though, Miss Martin. There's nothing wrong with your car. Nothing except that you left it in drive and it won't start unless it's in park."

My mouth dropped open. "You... You are a creature of evil."

His grin broadened. "I'm not the one who forced me to pull over so that I could go down on me."

"I hope you know the only reason I did that was because your truck is incredibly sexy."

"It's my secret weapon," he agreed. 

I sighed and watched him rebuttoning his white shirt in a methodical way that swallowed the golden warmth of his body. "I don't know what will happen with us, Zack."

He started the engine without speaking. We were back in the Wal Mart parking lot and I was standing outside his truck when he finally responded. He rolled down his window and grasped my hand, looking down into my face. "I want you. You want me. Maybe that's enough for now." 

I looked into his deep brown eyes for what seemed like an eternity. Then I kissed him softly on his cheek. "It's enough forever," I said. "Whatever happens, I'll never forget you."

I got into my own car with the bittersweet knowledge that whatever time we had left, it wasn't long enough. I might want him so desperately I could barely see straight, but I could see straight enough to know that I loved him more than I wanted him. One thing that hadn't changed today was that if he didn't leave here, he would burn out. I sighed and started the engine (after, obviously, putting it in park), still feeling the aftershocks of his body so close to mine. But more than that, I couldn't forget the expression on his face when he looked at me. I finally let myself agree with him. Maybe what we felt WAS enough for now.



Tantalus in Chains Ch. 09



Chapter 9: Unmasked

It always rains on Halloween. The children outside wore coats over their costumes as their bedraggled parents trudged from house to house with them. I used to be so frustrated when I had to destroy the illusion of being a princess or a cat or a clown by covering it up with the cold, pungent vinyl of a raincoat. But this year, I had other broken illusions to deal with. At least I had a vat of mini chocolate bars, tangy fruit candy, and licorice to console me. I debated locking the door and eating all of it myself instead of handing it out. The Nightmare before Christmas would probably be even better with a sugar rush.

But that wouldn't bring him back. Zack was gone, and I was the one who had sent him away. My heart beat sluggishly as I remembered the way he had looked at me when I told him he had to go. He was my former student, fresh out of high school, and our separation was inevitable. It was best. He is so young, and while it's true that at eighteen, he's only eight years younger than I am, those years are a huge space between us. I did the right thing when I told him to go to college in Arizona, where he'd always dreamed of going.

So why couldn't I stop thinking about the way his hair brushed over my skin like silk? Why did it seem like his scent was everywhere? And why did I crave the heat of his body in a way that put my chocolate addiction to shame? My skin flushed at the memory of him inside me, and a slow shiver uncurled through my body. 

Childlike laughter erupted on my front porch, and I reluctantly heaved myself to my feet to answer the inevitable ring of the doorbell. I dropped a silver and gold cascade of chocolate into an orange jack-o-lantern pail without even looking at the child it belonged to. She giggled again, an uncanny sound that seemed to resonate through my house. I looked at her. I couldn't tell how old she was, but with her softly curling dark hair and lilac eyes, she perfectly fit the costume she had chosen: a flower fairy. The flowers in her hair were wilted from the rain except for the plastic ones, which were almost eerie in their pristine beauty. 

She giggled again at the expression on my face and handed me a violet. "Thanks," I said.

She dropped her smiling demeanor and she beckoned me to lean in so she could whisper something to me. Her voice was silver in my ear. Before I could process what she said, she flashed an enigmatic smile at me and scampered away, leaving her words to echo through my head: "Don't thank me until you've gotten your trick." 

I suddenly lost interest in handing out candy. That creepy little girl was just too unnerving. I locked the door firmly behind me and sank onto the couch.

That was when my television came on. The violet slide through my fingers and fell soundlessly to the floor as I stared at the screen. A young blonde cheerleader was sitting on her coach's lap as he exposed her shaved pussy to the camera. She squirmed against his hands as he murmured in her ear about what a naughty girl she was. I fumbled for the remote, assuming I had sat on it. Then I saw it on the coffee table in front of me. I blinked. Then I decided to be annoyed instead of afraid. Seriously? A blonde cheerleader and her coach? So cliché. 

Impatiently, I reached for the remote and pushed the power button, knowing it wouldn't work but needing to try. To my relief, though, the scene vanished. And then it came back on. I tried to turn it off again, but the same thing happened. There was only one thing that could stop it, but I was afraid to try. What if I pulled the plug, and it didn't go off, or it came back on? My heart thudded in my chest as the girl on the screen slid to her knees and began sucking her coach's cock. 

The combination of his thickness sliding between her lips and the gratified sounds he was making did absolutely nothing to slow my pulse rate down. I suddenly missed Zack with a desperation I never thought I would feel. 

"Fuck, Chloe," the coach growled. "Fuck, that's good. Suck it, baby."

My thudding heart hammered to a stop, and it wasn't because of the riveting dialogue. Chloe is my name. So when the coach pulled his dick out of her mouth and bent her over the desk, my whole body tightened in anticipation.

The screen went dark.

I blinked as I stared in confusion at the black screen. Had I dreamed the whole bizarre thing? I tried to psychoanalyze myself, wondering if it represented my desire to be dominated. A luxurious ripple rolled across my nerves as I imagined Zack taking control. Maybe that's all it was. Of course, it was the kind of fantasy I shouldn't indulge in. He was gone. It was for the best. 

I had almost convinced myself when a girlish giggle chimed through the air, seeming to originate just behind me. The giggle seemed to awaken a chorus of unintelligible whispers, whispers that were just loud enough to hear but soft enough to dismiss as imagination. I was petrified with fear, the kind of fear that convinces you that the only thing that will stop you from getting killed is your complete immobility. A kind of scuttling shuffle rustled across my floor, a sound that reminded me of claws.

My cell phone rang with a sudden ferocity that silenced the whisperings. I was so startled that I squealed. With a sense of dread, I picked the phone up to check who was calling. Relief flooded through me when I saw Zack's name.

"Zack?" I said into the phone. He hadn't called me since he left, so even though I was incredibly happy to hear from him, I was also confused.

He didn't answer. Instead, the same silvery laughter I'd been hearing all night trickled through the receiver. Something brushed across my skin as I shut the phone with slow horror. It was a violet petal. They began to fall on me like purple snow, carpeting the floor. I don't remember doing it, but I got up and ran into my room, slamming the door behind me. 

And then I smelled Zack, the soft, warm masculine smell of sunshine. I swallowed and slid to the floor, my back resting against the door, suddenly missing him unbearably. I rested my head on my knees and just wanted him. It was a completely ridiculous thing to do, considering the fact that my television had been hijacked by a cheesy porno, there was a violet blizzard in my living room, and Zack's phone had apparently been confiscated by a creepy little elf girl, but it seemed like the only thing I could do.

Someone knocked on my bedroom door, hard enough to make the wood vibrate. I screamed, pushing harder against the door. The doorknob began twisting violently. Then laughter came again, accompanied by a few violet petals blowing under the door. "Open up," a singsong voice murmured. "We're waiting for you."

This was insane. Either I was hallucinating or there was a psychotic fairy in my living room. Hallucination or not, one thing was certain—I couldn't wait in here forever. So I opened the door. The first thing I saw was exactly what I expected. The little fairy trick-or-treater was standing in a small pool of petals in the middle of my living room. "What do you want?" I asked. My voice only trembled a little.

She giggled. It was the same laugh that had seemed completely psychotic just a moment ago. But something was wrong. She didn't look psychotic, I realized suddenly. She didn't even look ageless or mystical. She looked... Well, she looked like a regular kid.

The second thing I saw was Zack's leather jacket in my chair. My intuition understood what had happened before my mind could, and I heard myself growling, "Zackary Travis Lancaster, I am going to kill you."

The girl giggled for the millionth time. "You're in trouble now, Uncle Zack," she said.

Zack wandered into the room from the kitchen, looking completely nonplussed. His brown eyes were the picture of innocence. He tilted a bottle of Dr. Pepper up, keeping his eyes on me as he let his lids drop into a smoldering gaze. It had the desired effect, turning my insides to putty, but it did nothing to appease my anger. I wasn't sure of the exact mechanics, but he had scared the crap out of me. And now he was using my own soft drinks against me?

I put my hands on my hips and narrowed my eyes. He sighed and put the drink down. "I'm sorry that we scared you, okay? We didn't mean it, did we Victoria?"

Victoria smiled angelically and shook her head. 

"I was in charge of taking Victoria trick-or-treating while I was in town, and she wanted to pull a prank on someone. I knew you would be a good sport. We just got a little carried away. It will never happen again," he added, blinking innocently. And holy God, he was hot. Was it possible that he had gotten even hotter than he used to be?

Victoria gasped suddenly and ran to my collection of DVD's. "She has The Pirates of the Caribbean!! Can I watch it, please?? PLEASE ZACK??"

He raised a questioning eyebrow at me. I sighed. "Sure, sweetheart," I finally answered. "You can watch it. There's some candy, too. That was a very good trick, and you deserve another treat."

I had barely gotten the DVD into the DVD player when Zack pulled me into the kitchen. I opened my mouth to ask him what in the hell he thought he was doing, but he crushed his lips against mine before I could say anything. My body melted against his as his mouth moved urgently on mine, and my anger transformed into hunger. I succumbed to his kiss, and his soft hair twined around my fingers as I gave myself the luxury of touching it.

"Shit," he said breathlessly, breaking the kiss. "I missed that so much."

I traced the line of his cheekbone, savoring this moment. "Me, too," I admitted. 

He brought his hands up to gently massage my breasts through my shirt, the slow heat of his palms igniting a fire inside me. My back arched and I pulled his head down for another kiss. The tension of fear he had raised in me earlier began to dissipate under his lips and hands. My body screamed for release as we lost ourselves in each other.

Victoria's clear voice came from the living room, slicing between us. "Where'd you go, Uncle Zack? You're missing the best parts!" The chatter of the television hummed in the background as Zack and I stared at each other.

"We're just getting some popcorn," he finally said, sliding his hands around my waist and under my shirt to caress the small of my back. "We'll be there in just a second."

I tried to look like I wanted him to stop. "We can't do this now," I said, ineffectively pushing against his arms. He didn't stop moving his hands over my skin. He dragged my earlobe into his mouth, which rendered me speechless. Before I could stop myself, I had tangled my hands in his hair again. He flicked his tongue against my earlobe, making my nerves dance giddily. "Zack," I gasped. "We have to stop." 

He pulled me tighter against him, finally pressing me between him and the refrigerator. Then he released my earlobe and murmured into my ear, "I want you so much. I can't stop thinking about you."

Which would have ordinarily been pulse-quickening. But I couldn't help giggling internally. Something was poking into my hip—something that was plastic and rectangular. I took advantage of the opportunity to slide my hands under his shirt, feeling his skin gliding beneath my fingertips. A slow shiver went through his body. "I just have one question for you," I asked, my voice husky with the pleasure of touching him.

He moved his hands restlessly over my arms as he straightened to look into my eyes. "Yeah?"

I watched his eyes darken as I lowered my hands, tucking my thumbs into the waistband of his jeans. "Are you just happy to see me, or is that a remote control in your pocket?"

He blinked in confusion for a second, just long enough for me to grab it out of his front pocket and twist away from him with a playful smile. He grinned back at me. "Umm. I guess I should have let you know that your television isn't actually possessed. I just have a universal remote."

"Classy," I said. "Letting your niece watch a porno to play a trick on your former teacher.

He rolled his eyes. "You think I let her watch that? Seriously? No. She was outside while the TV thing was happening. Geez, do you think I'm some kind of perv?" He smiled winningly, letting his hands rest on my waist again. 

"You know what you can do to make it up to me?" I raised my eyebrows suggestively.

He smirked. "Does it involve putting anything of mine into anything of yours?"

"Oh yeah." I pressed my body against his, gently easing him back against the refrigerator. I could feel the hardness of his erection pressing into my lower stomach, and I moaned softly and twisted my hips against him. 

"What do you want me to do?" His voice was velvet, warm and rich. 

"You know that popcorn you brought with you?"

"Yeah," he answered. He was obviously only half-listening. Most of his attention was devoted to grinding his cock into the softness of my undulating lower belly. 

I smiled sweetly. "Why don't you insert it into my microwave, handsome?" Then I kissed him softly on the cheek and stepped away from him. He looked adorably confused and rumpled. It was an effort, but I managed not to touch him again. "I'll be in the living room with Victoria." I turned and left before my resolve failed. One thing I wasn't doing: fucking a former student while his ten-or-younger niece was in the next room.

"Don't think this is over," I heard him mutter as he lumbered to the microwave. I could hear it beeping as he pushed the buttons. They didn't sound happy at all.

"What took you so long in there, Miss Martin?" Victoria asked, pressing pause. Hopefully she didn't notice my blush.

"Nothing. We just couldn't find the popcorn. But Zack is fixing it now." 

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Now I'm going to have to start the movie all over again." She then began a rambling monologue about why she chose her costume, and I began to relax. How could I have possibly ever thought she was a real fairy? 

As always, I felt Zack come into the room before I saw him. He plopped a bowl of popcorn next to Victoria, and then came to sit beside me on the couch. His thigh pressed against mine, and I felt my heartbeat quicken as he leisurely draped his arm around my shoulders. He gave me a look that dared me to say anything. I smiled to myself. If he thought I was seriously going to tell him to move, he was seriously overestimating me. I may have done it twice tonight already, but I doubted I could do it again. It just felt too good to be near him, and Victoria wouldn't notice anything odd about it. She was too wrapped up in the movie, which she had restarted. 

Absently, I dipped my hand into the popcorn he had set between us. I shouldn't have been surprised that he put his own hand in and grabbed mine. He moved his thumb in soft circles over the back of my hand, then inside my palm. I looked at him. He had been looking at the movie as if he were paying attention, but when he saw me look, he winked at me. Then he let go of my hand and retrieved a handful of popcorn. I felt like I had been planted back in junior high, butterflies and all. Would he ever stop being so irresistibly attractive to me?

Thirty minutes or so passed. I was getting sleepy, and I rested my head on Zack's shoulder. Victoria had been asleep for at least ten minutes, I realized drowsily. Then I felt something fall into my shirt, and I squeaked. Zack was blinking innocently. 

"Oops," he said. "I dropped some popcorn." I could feel it resting in my cleavage. I glared at him. 

"Hey, don't be mad. I can get it out," he said. He smirked and traced his thumb just inside the neckline of my shirt. I shivered but didn't stop glaring. 

"No thanks." I moved his hand aside and got it out myself.

Victoria was half-awake, looking confused. I smiled sweetly at her and said, "It's no big deal, sweetie." I hoped she didn't notice the way Zack was still looking down my shirt. Apparently, she didn't—she was back asleep within seconds. Zack got up, and I felt a moment of panic. 

"Where are you going?" I whispered.

"I'm getting a blanket." I opened my mouth to protest, but he silenced me with a look. "Please," he whispered. "It's driving me crazy being this close to you and not being able to touch you."

I agreed with him, so I didn't say anything as he draped a big fleecy blanket over the two of us and pulled me onto his lap. He kissed my neck as he thrust his hands into my shirt and cupped my breasts in his hands. He molded his hands around my flesh, and I barely stifled a moan. 

"They're even better than I remembered," he whispered.

"So are you," I managed to reply.

He trailed one hand down into my pants. He hesitated just a moment, stroking his thumb across the tender flesh of my lower belly. Then he dipped his hand into my panties, finding my clit with his index finger. I bit my lip and stiffened against him, trying not to moan out loud.

"You're so wet," he whispered, sounding slightly awed. 

"Well, you do that to me," I said. He moved his finger in a firm, slow circle, then pushed lower into my cunt. I raised my hips to meet him. He felt so good that I could barely breathe. I reached behind me to twist my arms around his neck, and the blanket slipped lower. He could see down my shirt again. 

So could Victoria, if she woke up, I realized. I tried to stop writhing under Zack's touch, but all I could do was whisper "yes" over and over again. I was so close. The nerves in my body were gathering, ready for release.

He stopped before I came. I leaned against him, trying to let the frustration drain out of my body. "What's wrong?" he asked jokingly.

I glared. "Okay, are you happy? You got even."

He grinned. "Yep. Very happy."

I sighed and looked up at him, giving him the eyes he claims he can't resist. "Zack... seriously. I want you so much."

He glanced warily over at Victoria, who was still asleep. "Here?" he whispered.

"No," I said. I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bathroom at the opposite end of my house. I shut the door behind us. "Here," I said. "Fuck me, Zack. Fuck, I need you." I pressed against him, pulling his head down for a kiss. He unbuttoned my jeans, and I shimmied out of them.

He lifted me onto the counter, and I unbuckled his belt while he buried his face in my breasts. He let his jeans fall to the ground along with his boxers, and I wrapped my legs around him.

"Now, please now," I moaned. He listened, thrusting into me with a soft growl that raised chills on my body. His breathing was ragged against my skin as he pounded into me. The soft slap of our flesh was a barely audible counterpoint to the soft thudding of my heart. He lifted me off the sink and held me against him with his cock buried all the way in my pussy. I moaned into his ear, tilting my pelvis forward to take even more of him. 

"I want to bend you over," he said, his voice tense. "I want to bend you over the sink and fuck you so hard."

"Yes," I gasped. "Do it, please do it." I kissed him again as he eased me back down onto the counter so that he could twist me around. 

The cold linoleum of the counter was hard against my breasts as he stood behind me and looked at my body. I could see him in the mirror, and the expression on his face made me shiver in anticipation. Slowly, he eased his cock inside me until he was all the way inside. It felt amazing. He gave a few more slow, hard thrusts, and my pussy began to pulse slowly. It wasn't an orgasm, but I wasn't far away. 

"You like that?" he asked, obviously sensing my body's response.

"Yeah," I moaned. "Don't stop."

He started fucking me harder and faster. I'm not sure how he moved that fast, but I don't really care. I never took my eyes off his face as he plowed into me. His eyes were so dark and wild. When I came, it wasn't because of anything specific he did, like squeezing my tits or saying just the right thing. It was because he fucked me until my body couldn't take the pleasure any more. "I'm cumming," I gasped.




Tantalus in Chains Ch. 09



He came soon after. I saw his face tighten, then relax as he shot his load deep inside me. He looked down at me with absolute adoration. I blushed and turned to wrap my arms around him, pulling him close. Then I remembered something.

"Happy birthday," I murmured against his chest.

I felt him stiffen. "You remembered?"

"Well duh. How could I forget that you were born on Halloween? The spawn of Satan and all?"

He put his finger under my chin and tilted my face up. "I'm in love with you," he finally said.

I was stunned. A wave of terror pulsed through me, a feeling more intense than any fear I'd felt all night. I couldn't tell him how I felt about him. I couldn't think of an answer, so I kissed him deeply.

He sighed when I stopped kissing him. Then he began tugging his jeans back on. Before he left the room, he stopped and looked at me. "I know why you didn't say it," he said. "I know that I have to go, and saying it only makes it harder. But... do you?" 

I had been pretending to be indifferent for so long to make things easier. It was just a costume, though, and now it was slipping away in the face of his earnest questions. I smiled as my mask melted away. "Always."

He swallowed and squared his shoulders, hand on the doorknob. "I'll be back sometime." He opened the door, then turned to look at me one more time with his mischievous smile. "Oh, and you might want to make sure all of your windows are locked. That's how we got in." Then he walked into the living room. I could hear him waking Victoria up, and then I heard the soft click of the door behind them.

I dissolved into tears on the floor of my bathroom. This was exactly why I hadn't wanted to have sex with him. I knew it would be awful when he left. I prepared myself for the possibility that this would be the time he wouldn't come back, that I might never see him again. Except he promised. Surely he would be back. Wouldn't he?

He was. Two hours later, he crawled into my bed with me and held me against him. We fell asleep in each other's arms. When I woke up late the next morning (Saturday), he was gone, but a single violet was in his place.