At last, here was a guy who promised to fulfill a very specific, very dirty fantasy. I wanted that shirt of his to stay on, please, so that the lines of his body would be tantalizingly hidden by his clothing. I stroked the planes of his abdomen. Christ, he was fit. “How do you want me, Max?”
Say on the desk. Oh, God, say it. Say it.
“[…]Put your hands against the desk.”
Unfortunately for Michael, the fun doesn’t last. As soon as their lust is sated, Max tells him he is not a good fit for a tutor for Kyle and fires him. Humiliated, Michael leaves and doesn’t see Max for months. That is, until a student at the boarding school where Michael works and lives is receiving threatening letters. Max is hired to be his security guard until the kids’ father can make it up to the school.
I swung my extension cord in a neat arc, twirling it snappily, and he doubled over. I chuckled too and tried to tilt suavely against the wall, but that wasn’t happening. I tipped. He stared at my toast.
I spun around, showing off a little.
“Hey, you’ve got something stuck to your back.”
I visualized his touch; I couldn’t feel it. Fortunately, the bottom of my metallic housing covered my crotch, on the off chance that I got excited.
“I’ll bet. Does it say ‘kick me?’”
“No. It says ‘I like to have my muffin buttered.’”
My face flamed and I jerked back around, my jaw hanging. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
He smiled roguishly. “I’m kidding, Michael. It says ‘kick me.’ And you’re blushing, kiddo.”