The Teacher's Pet Project

The lunch bell rang, and the classroom emptied in a rush of teenage energy. Emptied, all but Joey Granger.

At Eliza Matthews' request, he had remained behind. To touch base, she had said in front of his classmates. To connect was what she really meant.

She watched him from her desk, a curious mix of nervousness and guilt adorning his face. When the rest of the class departed, Joey hadn't moved a muscle, even before she had mentioned, in an off-hand tone, for him to tarry. It was almost as if he had anticipated that moment. That showed good insight, a sign of growing maturity. Good, that was something she could build off of.

Eliza had kept the facade of her stern demeanor while teaching. There was no reason to draw any attention, that would only lead to questions. And questions might lead to the truth, a dangerous truth. Eliza was a career minded woman, and Joey Granger's future was her career. The last thing she needed was a setback in the fulfillment of her ambition.

And so she had been stern, just as she had been each and every day that she had taught at South Point High School. Stern to all the students, but to her one true student, the only one that mattered, she took a different approach. Nothing so obvious that it would raise suspicions, but simple, small things to ensure that she was still on objective: building Joey up, helping him succeed.

For example, distracted students had always been a source of irritation for Eliza. Joey had always been one of the most common offenders, his eyes drawn the movement of the trees outside the window, to the students passing in the hallway, to the doodles in the margins of his notebook. She kept a large leatherbound tome, Audubon's Birds of America, on her desk, a gift from her father. Eliza didn't care about birds. Neither did her dad. What she cared about was the noise that book made when it hit the floor.

BAM!

Every eye would be on her, attention would be regained.

Despite the attention her outfit had drawn from Joey that class, he was still subject to his trademark distractibility. With the realization that Joey was her primary pupil, though, Eliza re-strategized her attention grabbing tactic. That class, Aubudon remained perched on the corner of her desk. When Joey needed his attention brought back, instead she tried something new, something she'd never considered before. Since his eyes had widened when he walked into the classroom, taking in the fitted blouse and tight skirt she was wearing, Eliza decided to use that to her advantage. When Joey's eyes would begin to wander, Eliza would stretch, pushing her chest out slightly in Joey's direction. When Joey got distracted, Eliza would drop something, bend, then pick it up, making sure that Joey had a good view of her backside as she moved. When Joey began to doodle, Eliza would stand up and begin to pace, rolling her hips in a hypnotic manner that was sure to draw Joey's eyes back to her.

It didn't really matter how well Joey would retain the material in her class. Eliza would be giving Joey an excellent grade no matter what. What mattered was that Joey needed to start developing focus if he was going to become a man. She knew that focus was a sign of maturity, a skill that would take him places. She had spent a lot of time thinking about what kind of man Joey was, what kind he was becoming. He had always been a nervous sort, and her tactics of drawing attention to his shortcomings in the past, Eliza could now see, had been counter-productive. Joey needed to be built up, but she needed to do it in a way that didn't make him anxious, didn't put a spotlight on him.

"Thank-you for staying behind, Joey," Eliza said, her tone softening from the brisk delivery she used while delivering a lesson, "Would you mind closing the door?"

Joey stood up from his desk, then walked to the door and closed it. He remained facing it for a few seconds, then took a deep breath and turned around, a resigned look on his face.

The poor kid, thought Eliza, he thinks that I'm going to lecture him, treat him how I used to treat him. Well, let's get that sorted.

She pushed her chair back from her wooden desk, swiveled it so that she was facing him, then crossed one leg over the other, the smooth fabric of her skirt sliding against her thighs. It was a deliberate movement, a subtle shift that drew his gaze downward, just for a second, before he quickly looked away, blushing.

Good. Eliza had dressed with Joey in mind, and knowing he appreciated her choice gave her all the affirmation she needed. She was on the right track. Lifting her left hand, she toyed with the neckline her soft, pale blue blouse for a moment, teasing Joey's eyes back to her, finally and swiftly releasing the tension of the top button, exposing just a hint of the black, lace-trimmed bra that cupped her breasts. Joey's eyes widened, but he kept them locked on her.

Good. Focus.

"I know you might be confused about how I acted today," she began, once again in her soft tone, "how I didn't treat you any differently than your classmates. I thought it would be best, at least in front of them, to keep things as professional as we can. That way nothing gets in the way of our spending the rest of your school year together."

Joey looked confused for a moment, opened his mouth, then closed it, then said, "I mean, shouldn't you be professional?"

"Oh sweetheart," Eliza said, a gentle laugh in her voice as she stood up and crossed the classroom to stand facing him, "If only I could be however I want. I don't care about the school's rules, the social norms, any of that. What I care about is that you are becoming a man, and I want to be part of that. There is so much that keeps us apart, at least for now, but once you have graduated we can reassess our relationship and really start the work."

"Relationship?" Joey swallowed hard.

"Obviously we will have to make a plan. Together. I have given my notice to the school," she traced one finger down Joey's chest, "so when you graduate, so do I, in a way," the smile on her lips grew, "There are so many things I don't know about you, Joey Granger. So many things I want to know. But I have my whole life ahead of me to learn," her finger had reached Joey's belt, which she hooked and pulled him just a hint toward herself before releasing him, "and I love to learn."

"Listen, Miss Matthews..." Joey began.

"Eliza," she cut him off, "When we're alone, you can call me Eliza. You're becoming a man, Joey, so you might as well start thinking of me as a woman."

"Eliza," Joey seemed to taste the name, rolling it over his tongue, "Eliza, maybe this is getting a little carried away. You don't have to take responsibility for me that way. Maybe you should stay as a teacher, you seem to enjoy it."

"Of course I have to take responsibility, Joey," she said, aghast at the suggestion, "It's my job! Yes, I liked teaching, but there's no point in staying here when my job is with you. Maybe..." she paused, thinking back to the systemic way she had broken down her plan for Joey the night before, "Maybe it's not about me taking responsibility. Maybe it's time, since you are becoming a man, for you to have some responsibility of your own."

"What do you mean?" Joey sounded nervous again.

Eliza returned to her desk, bent to retrieve her purse from the bottom drawer, making sure to keep her knees straight and aiming her rear end squarely at Joey's locked gaze. Opening the purse, she reached inside and retrieved her keychain. After a few minutes, she had what she needed. Crossing back to her student, she took him by the hand.

"Here," she placed a key in his palm, "This is the key to my apartment. It's now yours."

"My key?"

"Your apartment," she corrected, "Don't worry, I'll continue to pay the rent. That wouldn't be fair to you at this point in your life. But if you're going to become a man, you need to have impact, you need to have purpose. From now on, what was mine is yours. My apartment. My furniture. My clothes. It's all yours. Consider me your testing ground, a way for you to experiment with having more agency in your life, having more control."

"I don't really think..."

"Besides," Eliza steamrolled over his objection, "very soon we are going to have to redefine our relationship. This will be a way for you to try things out, find an arrangement that you feel comfortable with. I won't be your teacher for long, so I'm going to have to have some other role in your life," again her finger hooked his belt, but this time she pulled him so close that her breasts pressed up against his sunken chest, "and the next role doesn't have to be so formal."

She then dared to let her lips quickly brush against his, then just as quickly she stepped away. The last thing she needed was for someone to walk into the classroom and see her doing her real job. Losing her teaching position would make things difficult. ensuring Joey's success, at least at this stage in life, was much easier while she was still employed at South Point High.

She turned back to her desk, grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled some notes on it. Then she returned to Joey, folded the paper, and gently slid it into his left jean pocket, enjoying the feeling of the heat of his groin on her fingers as she slid it into his pants.

"My address and cell number," she said, "I don't have a spare key, so I'll need you to take responsibility for me after school. Unless you want me to sleep in my car, you're going to have to take care of me this evening."

"Can't I just go get a key cut?" Joey offered, "I can run out over lunch..."

"No, sweetheart," Eliza said firmly, "There is no point in shirking your responsibilities. You can get a key cut tomorrow. Today I won't accept it. I need a man to take care of me, and since you're the only man in my life, I need you to take me home. Can I count on you?"

Joey didn't move for a long time. His eyes darted back and forth, as if considering something, thinking through some serious problem that only he could see. That was fine. Overcoming personal challenges was a great way to experience personal growth. She looked down. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the key. For a moment, Eliza started to worry that she had pushed him too far, too hard, too quickly. But then...

"Okay," he said in a small voice.

"Excellent," Eliza responded, trying to hide her glee, but not fully able to bury it, "Then I'll see you after school. Let's text to make a plan. I wouldn't want the school administration to create a headache for us," now it was her turn to pause, "Us. I like the sound of that."