Jack O'Connor sighed, rubbing his temples, paying no heed to the streaks of grey he knew were there. It had been a long day.
Sometimes it was just impossible to get his students to concentrate, or take in a single word of what he was saying. Sure, granted, there were always going to be kids without the slightest interest in musical theory, who wouldn't know a crotchet from a quaver if he served it up to them flambéed, sliced and soaked in whiskey. He could deal with them, knowing they made up about half the class. He was their jailor and they his inmates, and both parties knew their roles- they would stay disciplined, and he wouldn't burden their limited minds with too much work or knowledge.
Then there were the average kids, those willing to learn and with the ability to be taught. He had good and bad days with them. Some days he would play them a Beethoven sonata, and watch them trying to hide stirrings of enjoyment. He would smile then, loving his job. Other days, he may as well have been speaking Japanese as he tried to describe the difference between the Baroque period and the High Classical style of Handel. He knew, being teenagers, they had other things on their minds.
Lastly, there was the handful of kids with a genuine talent for music. No more than one or two in each class. These were Jack's pride and joy, the main reason why he came to school every morning to teach. One in particular, Catlyn White, an 18 year old senior who played the piano, showed great promise. He'd seen her play before in school recitals, and had been impressed by her technical skill. She was also by far and away the top of her class, and had been since Year 7. She had been distracted today though, for some reason. She had barely written anything down in the whole hour of class, and when he asked her a simple question about chord progression she had blinked and stuttered, fudging the answer.
The school where Jack worked was barely five minutes drive from his home, and when he walked in the front door he was still musing about Catlyn. He would have to ask her tomorrow if anything was wrong if she didn't perk up to her usual, brilliant self. He dumped his jacket on the arm of a chair in his living room and, with the desperation of a drowning man grasping at an overhanging branch, poured himself a large glass of Malbec. He sighed with pleasure, drinking deeply, glad he'd had the foresight to ship home a crate of wine when he was in Argentina over the summer.
Sometimes he felt as strong and fit as a much younger man, helped by the regular workouts which kept his body toned and tight. He'd taken to running recently on top of his usual gym routine. This had trimmed him down somewhat, showing his rippling muscles and core when he took his shirt off.
Other times, he felt the weight of every day of his 52 years. Today was one of those times. He trudged upstairs and collapsed onto his bed, flicking out the light as he did so. He didn't bother changing out of his clothes, he simply didn't have the energy. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
***
At lunch the next day, Jack was feeling considerably better. He´d had an entertaining morning with his Year 7 class, letting them get their recorders out for the first time that year. Mayhem had ensued, of course, but it was a circus kind of mayhem, and he´d enjoyed it thoroughly, bellowing at them to follow the music in front of them as they totally ignored him. They had seemed to be trying to outdo each other as to who could make the most noise, blowing hard into the little instruments as if they were bugles. He'd had a ball.
He shared a joke with Greg Stevens, the History teacher and one of his close friends, as he pulled out the lunch he'd packed himself that morning. A lot of the other male teachers had their wives pack their lunches; hell, Greg's wife even showed up at the school some days with a hot lunch she'd cooked specially for him. Jack, however, not being married, had to deal with whatever he could forage in the morning.
Biting into a cheese and tomato sandwich, he thought ahead to his classes in the afternoon. He had Catlyn's Year 12s next. He remembered her preoccupation the previous day, and resolved to see if she behaved the same today. With anyone else he wouldn't have given it a second thought, but Catlyn was so bright and full of energy that yesterday had been totally out of character. He munched his sandwich thoughtfully, and then pulled a staff newspaper towards him. He'd see her soon enough.
***
Well, at least she's not distracted today,
Jack thought to himself, a little bewildered at the turn of events. Catlyn had been practically bursting out of her seat in the front row since he walked into the room. She'd rattled off answers at lightning speed to every question he asked the class, without even raising her hand. Even the other kids were looking at her sideways; they all knew she was brilliant, but this was almost like showing off, which was most unlike her. She was usually quiet and reserved, answering questions only when called upon directly.
After about 20 minutes of discussion, he set them a rather difficult exercise involving plagal cadences, and sat down at his desk at the front of the room. He estimated that it would take them most of the rest of the period, and so he started idly leafing through a music dictionary. Within minutes though, he felt a prickling sensation on his forehead, and looked up at the class. The other students were all working, bent over their desks in silence, but Catlyn was staring at him directly from the front row. When he met her eyes she dropped her gaze, seeming embarrassed, and picked up her pen.
Jack turned back to reading, but within seconds he felt the same sensation. He looked up again, and sure enough, Catlyn was looking at him once more. She smiled slightly, and turned back to her page.
She was really very beautiful, he thought idly. She had long brown hair that fell in waves onto her shoulders, dark brown eyes and curved red lips. She seemed to be wearing more makeup today than was usual, with a hint of eyeshadow, which was forbidden by the school. It offset nicely her creamy skin, which looked incredibly soft. He followed the curve of her neckline down to her chest, where he could see her young breasts pressed tightly against the school blouse. From what he could see, they were very shapely; not too big, maybe B´s or C´s, but nice and round.
He shook himself mentally. That was inappropriate, and totally unlike him. He tried to concentrate on the dictionary, wondering what was wrong with him. He hadn't been laid in a while, not since...when
was
the last time? Jack gasped internally as he realized it had been at least four months, since the Christmas barbeque Greg had thrown over the summer. He needed to start dating again, and fast, if this was were his sexual urges were going to express themselves.
He looked up again at Catlyn, shocked to see that she was staring at him once more, as if she was reading his thoughts. She didn't look away this time, and he almost blushed guiltily, but managed to control himself.
"Any problems, Catlyn?" he asked her, frowning slightly.
"No, Mr O´Connor, " she replied, her lips twitching in a half-smile. "Just thinking."
"Well, get on with it, you´ve only got about 20 minutes to finish" he said somewhat brusquely, looking down again.
He managed to keep from looking at her for five whole minutes as the class beavered away. By the time he did look up again, she was fixed on her work. Checking to see that no one had any problems with the task, he then looked back at her. She really
was
beautiful, he thought. But she was so young, and a student no less! He needed to control those kinds of thoughts.
It was a struggle, however. He glanced down at her legs, which were smooth and bare. In a few weeks all the girls would be wearing stockings as autumn became cooler, but at the moment summer's warmth was still lingering on, and bare legs were everywhere. She was very close, in the front row, no more than three meters away from his desk. He almost felt as if he could feel the heat from her skin.
She shifted slightly in her seat, and Jack caught himself, quickly looking around the class to see if anyone else was looking at him. All the other students were quiet though, absorbed in the maddening difficulty of the plagal cadence. Catlyn didn't look up either. Jack returned to examining her legs, and had to stifle a gasp. They were no longer pressed tightly together, but spread slightly. He could clearly see up her skirt, and make out a flash of red panties.
With a tingle in his groin, he felt himself growing hard. His balls felt suddenly very heavy, and soon he had a sizeable bulge in his pants
Control yourself,
he snapped internally.
This is a student, and you DEFINITELY shouldn't be looking at her like that. You know how much trouble teachers can get into these days at the merest hint of such allegations.
