Teacher’s Pet

~Alexie Ivanov~

"Listen up, Nari," I say, my voice tight. Pacing a tight circle, I shoot her a glance. Her bored expression tells me this needs to be hammered home. "The key to this whole operation, the absolute key, is staying in character. Now, recite it back to me, every detail. Every. Single. One."

With a sigh, she rubs her palms against her temples and begins, "My name is Rashmi Chodhry, and you are my professor, Andrei Kuznetsov. I won the history Olympiad in my high school, and now we are headed to St. Elmo to research the historical significance of the mining communities during the Industrial Revolution. I'm a twenty-year-old, final-year student, majoring in history at Redwood High School. Alexie, I understand the need for a fake identity, but must we engage in such elaborate roleplay?"

"Nari," I sighed, shaking my head. "Look, I know this seems suspicious, but trust me, it's the only way to get through. Flights leave a trail, and without some kind of proof...well, let's just say an adult man and a young girl crossing state lines raises eyebrows."

She nervously nibbled at her lip, those irresistibly plump curves that never failed to ignite a warmth within me. "Fine, but why can't we explore other routes?" she murmured, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Considering the time constraints and, most importantly, the safety of our journey, air travel appears to be the most viable option," I explained calmly. "Despite its drawbacks—a confined space teeming with crowds under constant surveillance by stringent security measures—air travel remains the least appealing to potential threats. It offers a level of protection crucial for those seeking refuge from danger."

Nari, exhausted, collapsed onto her back, the weight of our circumstances visibly wearing her down. This routine had persisted for days, exacting a toll on the poor girl. Yet, given that this was her initiation into the world of clandestine identities, it was imperative for her to adapt and embody this new persona as if it were her own. We humans grow so accustomed to our identities that they become second nature; however, when assuming a false identity, the key to authenticity lies in projecting unwavering confidence, as if to say, 'Yes, this is who I am. Do you have any objections?'

Once more, I paced the room, its floor strewn with luggage and essentials meticulously arranged for our journey. Deviating from my usual habits, I selected a departure time statistically proven to coincide with peak airport congestion: a midday flight scheduled for tomorrow at precisely 12:38 pm. Mentally ticking off our necessities, I ensured that all our counterfeit possessions were strategically placed to conceal any traces of our true identities in plain sight.

"Why did you leave the letter from 'Eve' lying around like discarded rubbish?" Nari's voice came from behind me.

Without turning, I responded, "Discarded paper is often dismissed as worthless, unworthy of a second glance. When you stroll down the sidewalk, do you pay attention to every candy wrapper strewn across the pavement? No, it's the same principle. It's a precautionary measure."

"Hmm," Nari mused, a brief pause punctuating her thoughts. "What about security measures? Like, weapons?"

I turned to face her slowly, detecting a hint of excitement in her expression that she quickly tried to conceal. "Nari, this isn't a spy movie," I remarked, suppressing a faint smile.

Her response came in a flustered tone, "I know, but you never know!"

An amused smile tugged at my lips, but I quickly masked it before Nari could catch on. Turning away, I resumed mentally reviewing our checklist. Of course, I had contingency plans in place for acquiring weapons and ensuring our safety upon arrival, as well as arranging for transportation to the small town where we intended to lay low for a couple of days. Yet, I decided to withhold these details from Nari for now. The gravity of our adventure, which could swiftly spiral into a nightmare with a single misstep, would become apparent soon enough.

A thread of doubt snaked its way into my mind, questioning why I, in my right mind, would put our lives in jeopardy over a mere letter from an unknown sender. However, a combination of gut instinct and Nari's unwavering optimism convinced me that this journey was necessary for her growth, a means to confront the demons threatening to derail her life. While I harbored no trust for this elusive 'Eve,' I placed my faith in intuition this time. Yes, we could continue fighting, hiding in the shadows, but what would that accomplish? Until the secrets surrounding this enigma were laid bare, Nari and I would never find the peace she deserved. So, despite the risks, I believed that taking this leap of faith was preferable to languishing in obscurity and eventual demise.

Amidst the flurry of preparations, the topic that typically stirs my inner demons had been relegated to a distant corner of my mind, thanks to the urgency of our impending journey. At present, both my mind and hopefully Nari's were consumed by the imminent sequence of events.

With an early morning start, I ensured that we were both well-fed, well-rested, and well-prepared for what lay ahead. Our luggage was streamlined, devoid of heavy suitcases, comprising only carry-ons. Not only would this arrangement facilitate swift mobility in case of emergencies, but it would also help us blend in more seamlessly, attracting less attention.

While it was improbable, our guise as a professor and his student embarking on a research trip necessitated a packing list aligned with scholarly pursuits rather than leisurely indulgences. In keeping with this facade, our luggage, clothing, and demeanor were tailored accordingly. Stepping out of the shower, my gaze fell upon the casual yet dignified suit in a deep maroon hue, paired with glasses. Running a hand through my hair, I adjusted my tie, ensuring everything was immaculate—an attire befitting a professional history professor.

As I descended with my carry-on in hand, my eyes widened in disbelief. "Nari, wha... what are you wearing?" I stammered, taken aback by the sight before me. The simple suit I had envisioned her donning had been replaced by a plunging neckline checkered blue dress, a garment that would undoubtedly turn heads throughout the airport.

Nonchalantly twirling her curled hair, she tilted her head coyly. "What? I found a better outfit," she retorted with a mischievous grin.

"Nari!" My voice came out higher-pitched than I intended, my gaze inadvertently fixated on her attire as I heard her stifled chuckle.

"Like what you see, Sir?" she teased, punctuating her remark with a wink.

A flush pulsed through my cock and I could feel myself get hard on, hurriedly I turned to look away, murmuring "Nari, go get changed we need to go…"

"Well" she glanced away, her acrylic nails still playing with her bouncy hairs, "I thought, I would ampe up the roleplay. How about" and she got up moving slowly towards me, I could feel her heat right next to me, when she continued "You be my history teacher and I become the student who sucks your cock to pass?" With that she slid down towards my hardened dick, flustering me instantly as I backed away from her in a hurry almost tripping on my own shoes.

"Wha... wha... wha... Na..." I stuttered, but she cut me off.

"It's Rashmi, remember, Mr. Kuznetsov?" she reminded me, her heels clicking as she grabbed her suitcase—not the carry-on I had instructed her to prepare—and rushed toward the door, calling, "We'll be late, Sir, hurry up now."

Annoyance roared through me as I clasped her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. I glared at her, this not being the time for games. "What the heck is that?" I pointed at her oversized suitcase.

Yet, unfazed, she gave me a single glance and shrugged. "My luggage?"

I clicked my tongue in frustration as I pulled her closer, feeling my grip tighten on her arm. Her lips formed an 'o' shape, and she made a sucking noise, igniting a primal urge within me. It was as if the vault where I kept my inner demons at bay suddenly began to shake violently against its door. Stepping back, I muttered, "Fine, do whatever," before hurrying toward the door. Her laughter echoed through the empty halls, leaving me unsettled in its wake.

Perhaps the car ride had a calming effect on me, or at least I hoped it did. How this girl could fluster me so profoundly in such a short span of time was beyond my comprehension. I had initially pegged Nari as a shy individual, but this bratty persona of hers had me yearning for a moment of solitude to relieve my primal urges. The entire notion of blending into the crowd and avoiding attention now lay in shambles, as the girl seated beside me had become the focal point of every male in the vicinity. Instead of maintaining the demeanor of a sophisticated professor, I felt more like a wild hound, glaring at anyone who dared to cast a lingering glance in her direction.

As we passed through the check-in, Nari moved ahead of me, and for the first time that day, my attention was fully captured as I eavesdropped on the interaction between Nari and the security personnel.

"So, Miss Rashmi, are you traveling alone?" the security guard grinned lecherously.

Nari returned the smile, then promptly pulled me forward, pressing her body against mine and subtly emphasizing her assets. "No, I'm traveling with my professor, conducting historical research," she replied, lingering on the last words suggestively.

I sighed inwardly, observing the security guard's complexion shift to a shade of green with envy. "Ah, Mr. Kuznetsov, Russian, huh?" he remarked, attempting to conceal his jealousy behind a facade of casual interest.

There comes a moment in every man's life, perhaps a vestige of our primal instincts inherited from our early stages of evolution. It's when a man feels threatened, particularly when the safety of his mate and offspring is at stake, that an internal aura awakens deep within him. It's a dormant force, lying in wait for the opportune moment, known in human parlance as a 'killing intent.' For some, it manifests as pure rage, while for others, it's a primal hunger for violence. But for those who have mastered their inner beasts, like myself, it's a deadly gaze, potent enough to render the target paralyzed in terror, without them even comprehending what transpired.

Slowly, I slid my glasses off and placed my own passport on the counter. With a deep bass in my voice and my accent unconsciously asserting itself, I murmured in a low tone, audible only to him, "Hurry up."

The security guard gulped audibly, but what truly caught my attention was the flushed expression on the face of the girl next to me. Swiftly, before anyone else could notice, I snatched our papers from the counter and nudged her forward toward the boarding area. I knew this flight was going to be a long one.

As we made our way toward our gate, secluded from the prying ears of passersby, I pulled the girl closer to me. It seemed my accent would persist throughout the entirety of this trip, but when her innocent doe-like eyes met mine—the same eyes that seemed to proclaim, 'Am I guilty of being the prettiest?'—I found it difficult to maintain the edge of anger I had carried.

However, regardless of her intentions, I needed to remind her of our purpose for this research trip. Speaking in a measured tone, I said, "Rashmi, whatever game you're playing, I need you to remember our objective for this research trip." I emphasized the word "research."

She smiled innocently, a smile that had persisted since morning, yet held a hint of mischief beneath its surface. "Okay, Sir, I promise I won't do anything to tarnish your reputation for the duration of this flight."

Her response elicited an amused smirk from me, and I couldn't help but ask, "Promise?"

She bit her lip as she replied, "Yes, Sir."

"Good girl"