“Teach me something dirty.”
That’s what my student, Miss Luna Hendrix, whispered to me the night I rescued her from a handsy boy from school.
Despite her filthy words and the way my body begged to take hers, she screamed innocence.
I really shouldn’t. It was wrong to want to stain her purity.
But I did. I gave her lessons no teacher should give their student.
She wanted dirty, so I laid my hands on her and gave her raw. I made her mine.
She screamed my name so prettily, and in doing so, she made me hers.
