Teacher's Pet: An Interracial Cuckold Story (ePub)

Preview:
My name is Preston Williams and I'm kind of a dork.
I'm eighteen and right now I'm on my way to school. No traffic is out and that's great for me, I can just ride my bike down the middle of the road on this warm, muggy morning in the suburbs of Richardson, my hometown.
Why am I going to school an hour early? Because of a very special teacher. Mrs. Hinton, Vanessa Hinton.
Mrs. Hinton is my English teacher, and she's my favorite teacher ever. She's smart, makes hilarious jokes in class, gives us the most thoughtful assignments, and...I'm not sure how to say this next part, but I'll just say it. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.
Mrs. Hinton is in her early thirties, she's friendly and perky and she has a great smile. One of those smiles that lights up a room. Whenever that smile of hers is directed at me it always makes me blush and gives me a fluttery feeling deep down inside.
Mrs. Hinton is a blonde, with long straight hair that she typically parts to the right, it goes down to her shoulders and lays flat against her upper back, always looking so silky smooth.
Besides that great smile and beautiful hair, Mrs. Hinton has these incredible blue eyes that just suck you in whenever you look at them. They're like the color of a calm lake. Like her smile, it's hard to look at her and keep eye contact, it gives me a feeling deep down that kinda embarrasses me. When I do look at her, I really just want to kiss her, I didn't even mention those plump pink lips. Oh my gosh, they are just perfect. And the rest of Mrs. Hinton is even better—
The steady thump of loud music and the roar of a powerful engine pulled me out of my thoughts and I remembered I was right in the middle of the street on my bicycle. I looked over my shoulder and saw a blood-red sports car gaining on me, the windows and windshield were blacked out, the engine roared as the driver hit the gas.
I yelped and swung the handlebars toward the sidewalk. I bounced over the curb and slid forward off the seat. The car zoomed by me, engine roaring and bass thumping as my tire stuck in a crack and my nuts connected with the crossbar.
I just stood there for a minute, making whimpering sounds, leaning over the handlebars, that excruciating pain running through my body. It was like I couldn't even take a breath as my nuts throbbed.
Finally, the pain started to fade, I swallowed hard and wiped my brow. I got off my bike. The last thing I wanted to do was sit on that narrow seat with sore nuts. I walked it the rest of the way to school, all the way down the street, through the parking lot, and up to the bike rack by the front door.
The lot was still mostly empty, I was way early despite my recovery time. But one spot in the corner of the lot was taken. It was that blood-red sports car. The lights were still on, the music still thumping.