Infatuation | Shawn Mendes

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"She enjoyed being a flirt, a tease, a prize never to be attained by any man."

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Brielle sat in the cold metal desk, one leg crossed over the other and her infamous cherry lollipop slipped between her plump, pink lips coated with a shiny gloss. The gray skirt she wore stopped just below her shapely bottom, allowing for the smallest glimpse at her favorite pink, cotton panties. Her top was intentionally bought a size smaller, making the rest of the college boys gawk at her full breasts with bulging eyes and parted lips. Thick, dark curls cascaded down her back while she aimlessly tapped her black pen against the desk while staring at the whiteboard in front of her -- or rather the man writing on it.

He was tall and built, muscles straining against the thin fabric of the white button up he wore to work each day beneath a solid colored tie. His hair was a chestnut brown, matching the hue of his crinkly eyes, skin a smooth ivory with the slightest rose-tinged glow dancing upon his cheeks. He turned around, his full, coral lips revealing a beaming set of pearly whites that made Brielle's head tilt in admiration. Her whole being drenched with lust each time she saw Mr. Mendes, yet little did she know that the feeling was mutual.

Although Mr. Mendes was a married man, even having a son the age of 21 -- only a year younger than Brielle herself -- he could never seem to rid his mind of the perpetual images of her enticing curves and long legs. And the lollipop between her lips, oh how he wished that was him. He was utterly infatuated with his student, as wrong as it was. He constantly desired to feel her -- every inch of her, to feel her glossed lips against his with her hips on his lap. It was wrong, and Shawn knew it, but he was determined to have Brielle.

Unfortunately, Brielle was not one to fall in love. She despised the inevitable disappointment that followed and the rollercoaster of emotions. Rather, she enjoyed being a flirt, a tease, a prize never to be attained by any man.

Mr. Mendes' voice shook Brielle out of her raunchy thoughts and desires about the thirty-nine year old. "I'm going to pass back your last tests," he stated simply, while retrieving a stack of papers from his desk and walking around the room. Looks of both dismay and contentment washed across the classroom as grades were revealed.

"Miss Edith," Mr. Mendes called lowly as he slid Brielle's test onto her desk with a stern face, "this is your fourth failed test. You need to step it up, because at this rate, it doesn't look like you're going to pass this class."

"I'm sorry," she replied, shaking her head as she glanced down at the red 56% threatening her from the surface of her desk, "Calculus is definitely not my strongest subject."

"I'm willing to help you," Mr. Mendes bent down beside her desk, his soft eyes staring back into hers. As she glanced back down at the test, Shawn's eyes darted down towards her breasts, swallowing the desire growing in his chest. Brielle's tawny skin flushed a deep red at the thought of one-on-one help with her professor. Nodding, she waited for him to go on with the offer.

"You can come to my house and I can tutor you for an hour or so, if that's alright with you?" Mr. Mendes stood straight up once again, hands slipping into the pockets of his jet black dress pants. Brielle nodded quickly, and Shawn grinned at the arisen opportunity of being alone with her.

"How about Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays? At six? How does that work for you?" Mr. Mendes asked.

"That's fine. Thank you for the help," Brielle responded shyly, giving her lollipop a small lick which made Mr. Mendes draw his lips together while he felt his pants begin to grow tight.

"I won't let you fail the class, sweetheart, I promise, we'll get your grades up," he winked at her as he retreated to his desk. The simple gesture made Brielle's heart flip, and she squeezed her thighs together to rid of the aching feeling formed by the mere thought of being with Mr. Mendes.

"Oh, and toss the lollipop, Miss Edith," his eyes met hers once again, "you know there's no eating in my classroom."