Teacher Greg grinned as Steffy walked into the room. Right away, a few students gathered around, asking why her blonde hair had suddenly turned a deep shade of black. She brushed it off politely, saying she'd just had a change of heart. She also joked her new look probably suited the school better.
Greg wanted to throw her a compliment, too, but decided against it, not wanting anyone to think he was showing favoritism or putting ideas on his students' heads. He'd already dealt with that sort of drama with Charlotte Quinto before. Still, he couldn't deny he had a soft spot for his striking new student.
With her small face, red lips, and fair skin, Steffy was turning heads left and right. Her look fit her perfectly, and it didn't hurt that her intelligence and sharp opinions made class discussions a little more interesting for him. No wonder she was already popular with her classmates. Greg chuckled to himself as he made a mental note to take her out for a friendly date later that evening.
His greatest surprise of the day came when he actually managed to talk Steffy into accepting his invitation.
***
"It's pretty wild that a high school teacher would take his eleventh-grade student on a date," Steffy remarked, twirling her straw around in her drink. "And to bring her to a small bar in this boring town? That's the kind of news that could get the Department of Education talking."
"Oh, Steffy," he said with a smirk. "You never fail to amuse me."
"Oh, sir," she chuckled, mimicking his tone. "I know you're just drawn to my smart mouth."
But it wasn't just her wit that had his attention tonight. Her neckline was more than a little inviting too that he could not help but stare.
The girl might have noticed his demeanor—leaning casually as she took a sip of the juice she ordered. He almost choked on his beer.
"I'm bored," she eventually said, scanning the already crowded bar.
"What do you want us to do?" Greg asked, clearing his throat and offering her his drink. "Why don't you try this one?"
"Are you serious? Inviting me here is bad enough, Sir Greg. Remember, I'm still a minor."
Greg just laughed at her comment. "Well, I guess I'm a bad influence, then." But as he went to take the drink back, Steffy moved to stop him.
"I did not say I'm not drinking that," she said with a teasing grin, expertly opening the bottle of beer and taking a big gulp without hesitation.
"Surprised?" Steffy asked, smirking.
"What can I say?" Greg replied. "You should slow down, though."
"Trust me, Sir Greg, I know how to handle my poison." Raising a hand, she gestured to a waitress, as if she had been doing that like a pro. "Two bottles of whiskey, please."
The waitress shot her an unsure look before scribbling the order in her notebook. Couldn't blame her, Greg said in his mind. She's awfully young to be doing that.
"Will that be all, miss?"
"Yes, and make it quick, please."
The waitress hurried off, looking confused. Steffy couldn't hold back a laugh.
"Tell me, where the hell did you come from? I haven't seen anyone your age drink whiskey. Who taught you to drink? Your dad?"
"Yes," she replied with a lopsided grin. "Also, he taught me this…"
She rummaged in her purse and pulled out a cigarette. By this time, the waitress had returned, looking even more flustered by the cigarette. She had only managed to shrug her confusion off when Steffy gave her a generous tip.
"You drink, and you smoke."
"Does that turn you off?" Steffy shot back.
Quite the opposite. "I'm just surprised, that's all."
"Drink up," Steffy said, sliding the glass toward him. "Let's play a game."
"A game?" he asked, downing the drink without hesitation. The liquid sliding down her throat and leaving a sensation he didn't like.
"This is called 'Two Truths, One Lie.' I'm going to say three statements; two are truths, one is a lie. Tell me which is which. If you guess it right, I'll take a shot. We'll take turns."
Teacher Greg heaved a sigh of resignation. "Alright, you go first."
"I am a lesbian. I have three credit cards in my wallet. I am not rich."
"Ahh," he said with a laugh. "I see how it is," the teacher said, understanding the cleverness of his student. "You're obviously rich, so that's the one lie, right? And the first two—those were the truths."
"Now you know," Steffy replied with a wink, then emptied the glass with one gulp. "So, stop hitting on me, Sir Greg. I'm not interested in dicks. Your turn, smart sir."
"I have a scar on my face. The principal is my father. I want to fuck my student tonight."
"Hmm. You indeed have a scar, but you cover it well with make-up," she said, observing his face. "I don't think Mr. Seson's your father… too bad," she said as she stood from her chair. "I already told you I'm not into guys. But we can just dance… come on."
Before he knew it, Steffy had already dragged him to the dance floor, and with the whiskey kicking in, he could feel himself drowning in ecstasy as he pressed Steffy's soft body against his already angry manhood. The whole conversation had his body all excited, and as she started grinding on the dancefloor, she looked even more ethereal under the lights that flashed her face.
Unable to stop himself, Greg pulled her slender body as she tilted his head to him. And in the heat of the moment, he kissed her hard on the mouth.