I did something bad. It felt good in the moment until I realized how much trouble I could get myself in.
I felt fine as I drove home from work and forgot about it completely for the rest of the evening. But when I was in bed that night trying to sleep, that's when it hit me. I just put my job, my career, my entire livelihood on the line for the cheapest of thrills.
The day was great up until I did what I did. I got into school early, every class went off without a hitch. I even gave my tenth graders no homework just because I was in a good mood. Then the last class of the day came around. I always found myself both looking forward to it and dreading it. Twelfth grade history. The class he was in.
I have been teaching for almost a decade and I am really good at it. That's not a brag, it's just the truth. I have taught in three schools since I qualified and improved the grade point average of my students in each one.
Most of my students were hard workers. They gave a shit. But there's always the few who don't.
He was one of them.
I noticed him when I first joined the faculty in September. He was hard not to spot. He was one of the tallest kids in the school, probably three or four inches taller than me. He was on the football team and you could tell. He had wide shoulders, biceps that looked like they would rip his shirt open every time he moved his arms and thick, tree trunk legs.
He was tanned. His hair was short, a buzz cut around the side. He had a movie star smile and an action man jawline.
His name was Jake and I could not stand him.
Every teacher has their favourites. Any that claim otherwise is a bullshitter. Jake was nobody's favourite, except for Tom Simpson the football coach, for obvious reasons. He was lazy, entitled and didn't try. Some of the assignments he turned in were downright insulting.
What annoyed me most about Jake was his attitude. He sauntered around the school like he owned the place. He always sat in the back of the class so he could shoot the shit with his bros, who in terms of personality, were all indistinguishable from each other.
The girls all loved him, obviously. From the handful of conversations and jokes I heard passing through the hallway, he had already been with plenty of them.
When I got the job, I was eager to show my enthusiasm for the school. I was in the front row at every football game. Jake was gifted, that was for sure. He was the best player they had.
I'll admit, it was sort of hard to take my eyes off him the first time I saw him walk out onto the pitch in his football gear. He filled out those white pants extremely well. His ass was so meaty, it gave me a stirring in my pants so strong I had to cross my legs to avoid embarrassment.
Coach Simpson noticed my enthusiasm and started inviting me to watch the guys' practice. I went a few times. I think he was relieved there was finally another young male member of staff he could hang out with.
Jake was Coach Simpson's pride and joy. His star player since the day he joined the team. Unfortunately, Tom's devotion to Jake meant he had overstepped the boundary with the other teachers.
Jake's grades were so low he was at risk of being dropped by the team if he didn't start studying. His parents were so furious they marched into the principal's office one evening to complain.
'After all the glory our son has brought to your school, this is how you repay him?'
I was starting to see where his sense of entitlement came from.
Coach Simpson asked me and the rest of the staff to go easier on Jake. His whole life was about the game, he couldn't lose his spot on the team. Principal Walker caved to his parents' demands and gently encouraged the same behaviour.
What pissed me off the most was that everybody just complied, no questions asked. Jake's grades improved almost across the board and he was able to stay on the team. There was just one subject left where his grades had stayed the same. History.
I sat at my desk, watching as Jake ignored my instructions for the students to begin composing their essays. He was crouched low on his desk, showing something on his phone to his buddy next to him, laughing quietly.
'Jake, knock it off,' I said a little too loudly. Some of the students in the front row jumped.
Jake stopped smiling and looked me in the eye. After a moment, he shoved his phone back in his pocket.
'My bad, Mr. Briggs,' he said. He didn't mean it.
If I was honest with myself, the main reason I disliked Jake wasn't because he didn't care enough to try in my class. It was because of what he did to me.
Every time I saw one of his muscles flex, or that way he walked down the halls, I got turned on. I wish I didn't, but it's not like I could control it.
I found myself thinking about him a lot late at night. Imagining him going into the locker room after a game and peeling his uniform off. The sweat glistening on his muscles as he wiped his face with a towel. The water running down his muscled pecs as he took a shower. The curve of his dick as he soaped it up.
I was rock hard in class as all these images flashed through my mind and I thanked God I was sat behind a large desk. I was relieved when the bell rang and everybody left.
That was when I did what I did.
Jake had left his gym bag behind. I stuck my head into the hallway but he had disappeared amongst a hundred other students. I rolled my eyes. Why did he have his gym bag in class with him anyway? He should have put it in his locker.
I walked to his desk and picked it up. It was open. My eyes were immediately drawn to the item on top. Jake's underwear. I dropped the bag like it was radioactive.
No, I couldn't. I shook my head. No, don't do it.
I waited a moment. The hallway was quieter now, people were leaving. The classroom was empty.
No, don't do it.
But then, I did it.
I took his underwear, a pair of black boxer shorts, and brought them to the desk, dropping them in my briefcase. I gathered my things and left. I took Jake's gym bag to lost and found at reception. He could pick it up there when he realized he forgot it.
When I got home, I went straight to my couch and undid my belt, pulling my pants down. I took my shirt off so fast I almost ripped it. I sat down and took the underwear out of my briefcase.
He had worn these. He had played football in them. His sweat was in them.
I put the fabric to my nose and sniffed. My cock twitched and I jerked it. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, taking in the intoxicating musk of Jake's body.
It smelled like a man.
I imagined how good they must look when stretched across his huge glutes, the piece of fabric in the centre riding up between his ass cheeks.
I shot a load across my stomach, hot and thick. It came out in spurts, I moaned loudly as I rubbed his shorts into my face.
That night, I thought about what I had done. I had stolen one of my student's personal possessions for sexual gratification. If anyone found out, I would lose my job. It didn't matter that Jake was eighteen, he was still my student. If word got out further than the school, I would never teach anywhere again.
I told myself it would be OK. It's not like anyone had seen me. Jake had no idea. Even if he realized I would likely have been the person who delivered his bag to lost and found, he would probably just think he had misplaced his underwear. He certainly wouldn't think his fucking history teacher had taken it.
I kept his shorts in a plastic bag so they would not lose their sent. Putting them back in my briefcase, I took them to school with me the next day so I could jerk in the bathroom with them.
I knew it was risky, but I liked having them with me. It was like I had a part of him to myself. That cocky jock who I couldn't stand but who still managed to push my buttons in all the right ways.
At the end of the day, I was ready to pack my things and go home. Coach Simpson pulled me into the hallway and told me that he and the other male teachers were heading to a sports bar later that night and I should come. I agreed and we spoke for a minute or two.
When I returned to the classroom, my briefcase was lying open on the desk. I had left it on the floor. I looked inside. Jake's underwear was gone.
No, I thought. This can't be happening. I opened all the drawers and rifled through everything inside.
I looked under the desk, still nothing. Shit, I thought. This is not good. I took a deep breath and tried not to panic.
