I sit here at the front of the classroom as my students eagerly progress through their mid-terms. My patience is running paper thin. Not with my students; with Helena. It has been a staggering two and a half weeks since our last encounter. If it was obivous by the way my thighs continue to clench and unclench in unregulated intervals or the way I use every ounce of my willpower to keep my hands on top of desk and not desparately pulling at the hem of my skirt, if only for…a taste. I am a fiend. At night, when I am left alone  with nothing but my thougts, all i think about is you. The sensual haughtiness of your voice, the animalistc prowl you masquerade as a walk, nimble fingers once used to pluck keys on a violin plucking a different type of instrument. I do not touch myself. No. That would be breaking the rules and once you break the rules you’re out of the game. Instead, I keep my hands to my side and count the minutes and the hours until I will see you again. This is only way I ever get through the day; the only way I get through the night. As I sit here and ponder how versatile of a sleeping aid that you are, the bell rings and papers are being flung at me. My students blur past me and I am left alone to my own thoughts and the setting sun in the window. or at least I think so. I can feel you, sitting, waiting patiently before I even turn my eyes toward you.

   There you are, legs crossed at the knee, swinging lightly, in the front row of the class. You mock the school system with your plaid skirt and matching vest. The red bow attached to you ponytail is priceless. Your head is down in deep concentration on the paper in front of you, a pen in your mouth that you absentmindedly lick and suck. You raise you eyes to me and the look of feigned innocence makes me wonder how any of your teachers were ever able handle you. "Ms. Porter? I’m stuck on a question. Could you please help me?" The sound of your voice make my breath hitch and my panties suddenly damp. "Ms. Porter?" you chuckle, "Denying a student of your help? How very unbecoming of a teacher." She stands up and starts stalking towards me in that panther-like fashion I’m so accustomed to seeing. She stops at my chair and crouches until I can almost feel her lips on my ear. "Would you like to play a game?" If my panties were damp before, they’re flooding now. I am so aroused that my thighs are coated with proof of how much I want her to touch me right now. My intake of air is the only confirmation she needs. "Today we’re going to play, "Keep Away"." She slowly dips her hand down to the hem of my skirt and begins to slowly raise it up. There doesn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the world let alone this room for my depraved lungs. As she begins to toy with the wet lining of my underwear she asks, "Are you ready to hear the rules?" I answer with the simple nod of my head. It’s the only response my body can make as she has added pressure to very sensitive areas; I just wish it were more. "First, as always, no touching youself until I tell you. Second, you will do everything I say without hesitation. Last, no one must ever find out what you’re doing. If they do, you lose, and you remember the last time you lost, right?" A very painful and oh so wonderful shudder runs through my body. "I thought so. I want you to go home, shower and put out the clothes I left for you. I’ll give more directions from there".

At Home

 After I’ve exited the car, I head straight to the shower. Even the tiniest deviation can cause me to lose and at this point I’m way too intrigued to risk anything this early. When I finally exit the soothing shower and enter my bedroom, my eyes fall on the deep maroon dress lying on my bed. Next to it lies an ear piece. As quickly as I can, I put on the dress and ear piece. "Can you here me, Bette?" I gasp; she chuckles. "I must say, you do that dress wonders. If we weren’t in the middle of a game, I might just find  out how beautiful it looks crumpled on the floor." A powerful shudder runs through my body as I twist and turn, trying to figuere out where she is. "Don’t worry about where I am, Bette. Just focus in the game. It’s time for the game to finally begin. I want you to drive to The Planet and sit in the back of the club. I’ll tell you the rest when you arrive."

The Planet

  As I sit here and watch as bodies rub and convulse together on the dancefloor oblivious to the event that is playing out before them. Unintentionally (or maybe intentionally by Helena), they have been fored to participate in our version of sport and god knows what "positions", as it were, they will play, but as my eye catches a peek of blonde hair, I already know who my opponent is. "Bette? Is that you?" "Hi, Tina. How are you?"