Cougariffic: Wrong Homework

Jeni hands her latest assignment to Cherie DeVille and walks out grinning like she nailed it. Then Cherie calls her back. Something’s off, and Jeni can feel it when they start talking about the paper. They sound like they’re discussing two separate stories, and the look on Cherie’s face says she wants a confession Jeni isn’t ready to give. Cherie opens her mouth and reads. “As I looked up at her dripping bosom, mine became damp—moist at the thought of her licking, moist at the thought of her breath in my face.” The room goes still while Cherie’s eyes pin Jeni to the chair. Jeni’s cheeks burn. She stutters, tries to explain: that page wasn’t for her to see, wrong stack, big mistake, sorry, it’s nothing. Cherie keeps pushing, wants every detail, because writing filthy scenes about your teacher is worth chewing on. Jeni keeps tripping over her own words, no clever out in sight. Cherie finally cuts the panic with a smirk and says the writing’s good—hot, even—if a little daring. Jeni mumbles it was just for herself, but the air between them changes. Cherie’s mouth curves like she’s hungry. Why not bring the scene to life instead of talking it to death? She wants it performed. Orally, right here. Jeni’s stomach flips from shame to heat fast. Cherie leans in, runs a hand over her cheek, and kisses her like she means it. Jeni ends up under Cherie’s mouth, tasting those breasts she put on paper, riding a real tongue instead of just imagining one. The “mix-up” doesn’t matter; she’s acing the lesson either way.