Spellman - Cover

Spellman

Copyright© 2023 by K.H. Elms

Chapter 2

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - A young high school teacher and football coach moves back to his hometown to escape the drama that nearly ruined his life, taking a new job teaching fifth grade. But a school full of hot young teachers and sexy single moms has plenty of its own drama.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fiction   School   Workplace  

Saturday, July 20, 2013

I rolled out of bed and confirmed that Riley was nowhere to be found. Her clothes had been collected from the floor of my room and her car was no longer parked next to mine. No note on the bedside table or the kitchen counter. Gone without a trace, the only evidence that she had even been here in the first place being the two used condoms currently sitting in my bathroom trashcan.

I tried to piece together what had happened, why she had left without saying anything. As far as I could tell, everything had gone pretty much perfectly last night, and she seemed excited by the idea of staying the night, waking up next to me, and having another round or two of sex before breakfast. Maybe she really was embarrassed about how quickly we had fallen into bed together, despite my assurances that I didn’t think any less of her for it.

Then I remembered her phone buzzing in the middle of the night, and then her getting up to send a text. She had mentioned having a roommate, maybe she (or he? I couldn’t remember if she had mentioned either way. I had just assumed it was a woman) had messaged her wondering why she hadn’t come home. Maybe there was a family emergency and she had to leave and didn’t want to wake me. Whatever the reason, I was surprised and disappointed that she had left without saying anything to me.

I didn’t have her phone number. I didn’t even know her last name, so I opened up the dating app that was my only line of communication with her. No message from her on there either. I sent her one myself.

“Hey, I was surprised to wake up and find you were gone. Hope everything is okay. I had a really great time last night, and I would love to see you again soon.”

I sat there on my bed and just stared at my phone for several minutes, waiting for any kind of response, but none came. With a sigh, I got up and collected my clothes from the floor, tossed them into the laundry basket, and hopped into the shower. I stood there under the stream until the hot water ran out, replaying the night in my head over and over again, trying to figure out where something could have possibly gone wrong. Maybe I was just overthinking things. I’d been in the shower for almost half an hour by the time I got out and dried myself off. Surely by now Riley had responded to my message, apologizing for sneaking out and inviting me to meet up with her for dinner that evening.

But of course, when I checked my phone after getting dressed and brushing my teeth, my message still sat there at the bottom of the chat window, unanswered. Some of the girls I had messaged last night before I started talking to Riley had responded to me, but I ignored those. I felt a sinking feeling deep in my stomach, and it wasn’t just because I hadn’t had breakfast yet. I put my phone back down and decided to give her a bit more time to respond before I really started to get upset. It was still pretty early for a Saturday, not even nine yet, and there were plenty of possible reasons why she hadn’t replied. We had been up pretty late, it was likely she wasn’t even awake yet. I made my way into the kitchen and dug my pots and pans out of one of the boxes. I popped two pieces of bread into the toaster and fried an egg for my breakfast sandwich. When it was ready, I grabbed a slice of cheese as well and then sat down at my small kitchen table, forcing myself to leave my phone in my room while I ate. I finished my sandwich and dropped the plate into the sink.

Rather than immediately go back to my room and check my phone again, I decided to finish unpacking the boxes of stuff for my kitchen and living room. I unloaded all of my crockery and silverware into drawers and cabinets. Spices and seasonings were sorted and organized. The juicer found a spot on the counter to be its home. Then I got my TV set up and hooked up my PS3. I hung up a couple posters and did a decent job of filling up the small bookshelf in the corner of the room. By the time I had finished, the clock on the microwave told me it was almost eleven. Surely that was enough time for Riley to respond.

It wasn’t.

I stared once more at the unanswered message. For a moment I considered spending the money to become a Premium User on the app and unlock the ability to see if someone had read my messages or not, but I didn’t know if it would make me feel better or worse to know if she had. A dozen emotions wrestled inside me, making me feel like I wanted to throw up my breakfast sandwich, but mostly I just felt sad. Even though I had only known her for a few hours, I really thought there had been something between us. It felt real and it felt powerful. But then again, maybe I was just rebounding. Riley was the first woman I had been with since breaking up with Amanda back in May, just the second woman I’d slept with in over six years. It would make sense that everything I felt last night was just mixed up in the emotions of finally feeling like I was moving on. But then again...

I needed something other than unpacking to distract myself, so I grabbed my keys and headed out to my car. A few minutes later I found myself parked outside a nearby gym. A young guy, probably seventeen, was sitting behind the desk when I entered. “Good morning, how are you?”

“Just fine, thanks. I wanted to see about signing up here.” The kid’s eyes brightened. They probably got bonuses for signing up new members. He explained the monthly costs and new member fees, as well as additional options for classes and personal trainers. I just wanted to run and lift, so I told the kid to skip all the extras and handed over my ID and credit card. He tapped away on his computer for a minute before pulling out a camera and having me stand back so he could take a picture. A few minutes later he was all done, so I thanked him and headed into the gym. I blasted through my workout, pushing myself more than usual and letting my boiling emotions drive me on. When I was finished I was dripping sweat and grabbed my towel to dry off. I checked the time on my phone to find it was just past noon (and also Riley still hadn’t messaged me back). Thankfully my mother didn’t live too far away, so I still had time to run back home to shower and change before meeting her for lunch. On my way out of the gym I spotted a cute redhead on her way in. Cute enough that for a moment I forgot that I was still feeling terrible about Riley. But then she was gone, and I remembered again. Shaking my head, I hopped into my car.


“Seriously, Ryan. Put your phone away when you’re at the table, it’s extremely rude.”

“Sorry, mother.”

My mother had taken me out to lunch at a nice Thai restaurant near her house. The food was very good, and the spices really cleared out my sinuses. If only they could help clear out my head. She asked me how the drive down had been, if everything was settled with my new job, and how I liked the new apartment.

“Sounds like everything is working out just fine then.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Then why do you have the same look on your face that you had for two weeks after Argos got hit by a car?” I grimaced. Argos was my childhood dog, an energetic Australian Shepherd (redundant) who had been hit by a car when I was fifteen.

“Do I really look that bad?”

“No, not quite that bad. But I’m your mother, I can tell when something is wrong. Plus you keep checking your phone every five seconds at the table even though I know I raised you to have better manners than that.” She gave me a stern look that quickly morphed into a sympathetic smile as she reached across the table to put her hand on top of mine. “What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing, really. It’s not a big deal.” Her eyes narrowed at me. “It’s just ... I met a girl last night.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Just last night? And she’s already messed you up this badly?”

“I know it’s ridiculous, but I felt something between us. At least I thought I did. Then I woke up and she was gone without a trace and hasn’t responded to my message.”

“My baby boy got ghosted?” She waved off my incredulous look. “I’m a high school teacher, I pick things up.” Taking a deep breath, she fixed me with a serious look. “Ryan, you’ve been through a lot recently. On top of all of that ... unpleasantness with your job, you just broke off an engagement. Despite being a strong, confident, intelligent man, one whom I am very proud to call my son, you are in a very vulnerable place emotionally right now. I’m not going to say jumping into bed with a bunch of different women is a particularly great idea...”

“Just the one,” I interrupted.

“Really?” She gave me a look that made it clear she doubted that. “If you say so. You need to move on, but I want you to do it in a healthy way. You need to take things slowly, not fall into some passionate, whirlwind romance that’s written in the stars. Look at you. You had a single one-night stand and you’re already back teetering on the edge of being an emotional wreck because she hasn’t texted you back after what, twelve hours? Come on, Ryan. Maybe she doesn’t want to seem desperate. I know kids have all these unwritten rules about how soon after a date you can call or text. Maybe she’s just playing hard to get. Maybe she also felt swept up in whatever it was you had last night and wants to try to reclaim some control.”

“You think so?” I couldn’t keep the hopeful tone out of my voice.

“Or maybe she just wanted to have a one-night stand, got what she came for, and left. I don’t know for sure and you can’t either, unless she texts you back. Which she might never do. So just accept it for what it was and move on. You’ve barely been down here for twenty-four hours, and you have plenty of other things you can focus on right now. I know you think it’s not a big deal, but transitioning from teaching high school to fifth grade is going to be a really big adjustment for you. I’m sure you still have some friends from high school in the area you could try to reconnect with. Go watch a Padres game. Take a dance class or something.”

“You’re probably right.”

“I’m your mother, I’m always right.” She smirked. “Orrrr, if you insist on continuing to pursue more romantic entanglements, Beth will be back in town soon.”

I groaned. “Oh come on. You know that’s never gonna happen.”

“Why not? You haven’t even seen her in years. She’s really blossomed into quite a remarkable woman. Finally grown into her beauty, too, just like I always knew she would.”

“Never gonna happen. I’m not marrying Beth just so you and your bestie can finally be officially related. I do feel bad about how I let us drift apart in high school, and especially since I went away to college, and I look forward to reconnecting when she gets back into town to see if we can be friends again, but that’s it.”

My mother’s eyes twinkled. “We’ll see.”

“Whatever. So tell me more about your trip to New Orleans last month.”


I stopped at the grocery store on my way home from lunch to stock up. I had grabbed a few of the essentials yesterday, but not enough to last me through the week unless I wanted to eat out for dinner every night, which I did not. I was proud of myself for only checking my phone for a reply from Riley twice while I was at the store. And then once more as soon as I got home. And then only one more time that night before bed. Okay, fine, twice.

Sunday was another slow day. I finished unpacking the rest of my stuff and tossed the boxes into the recycling, made a quick lunch, and then hit the gym, even leaving my phone behind when I did so. The cute redhead I had seen yesterday was not there, unfortunately. A guy named Paul and I spotted for each other and made some small talk between sets. Paul was in his early thirties, worked at the bank, was married to his high school sweetheart, and had two daughters under three years old. The hour he spent at the gym every morning was his escape from the female energy that filled his home. Yes, I learned all that during out workout. Paul was quite the talker.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he said, “those girls are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, all three of them. But a guy needs some space away from pretty princesses and pink dresses to just sweat and throw some heavy shit around, you get me?”

“Yeah, I get you.” I didn’t get him. Well, I did intellectually, but I sure felt like I could use some female energy in my life, from one female in particular. I wonder if she’s replied yet. I shouldn’t have left my phone at home.

We finished up our workouts and headed outside. “It was great to meet you, man. I’m here every morning during the week at six if you want to lift together again.”

I shook his hand. “That sounds good. I’m still getting settled and figuring out exactly what my schedule is going to look like, but for now I’ll plan on meeting you then.”

“Awesome, see you tomorrow then.” He climbed into his BMW (Why did I think becoming a teacher was a good idea?) and took off.

When I got back to my apartment I fought the urge to immediately run to my phone and check for a reply from Riley. I instead took another long shower and did my best to think of absolutely anything else. After meeting Paul at the gym tomorrow I’d head over to the school to pick up my keys and check out my classroom, probably followed by a trip to the school supply store to buy some posters and whatnot for the walls. I didn’t think the things I had used for my classroom teaching high school history, government, and economics would work very well for fifth grade.

I turned off the shower and stood there, listening to the sound of the water dripping off me and down to the floor. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out and dried off. I dressed slowly, taking my time to gather my thoughts. When I finally went to check my phone, I saw that I had a notification from the dating app. My heart skipped a beat. Maybe two. I fumbled with the lock screen and swiped down to check my notifications.

New message from Tiffany.

I nearly threw my phone across the room. Then I opened the menu to uninstall the app completely, but I couldn’t get myself to do it. I did take it off my home screen though. Then I considered paying for a Premium Membership again so I could check the read receipts, but I knew that if I saw that she had read my message and didn’t respond it would crush me. But then again maybe it was what I needed to get over her and move on. After all, it had just been one night.

“Fuck,” I said out loud, to no one in particular.

Times like this made me wish I had a Facebook or Twitter or Instagram account or something, so I could at least mindlessly scroll through the feeds and feel like I had some sort of connection with all those people I had been friends with at one point in my life but I hadn’t actually spoken to in years. At least it would make a decent distraction. Fuck that’s depressing. I tossed my phone onto my bed and stomped into the living room to play something on my PS3. Maybe fragging some people in Call of Duty would make me feel better.

It didn’t.

I turned off the TV and looked over at my bookshelf. I walked over and grabbed my collection of Housman poems and collapsed onto the couch in a huff.

“Along the field as we came by

A year ago, my love and I,

The aspen over stile and stone

Was talking to itself alone.

“Oh who are these that kiss and pass?

A country lover and his lass;

Two lovers looking to be wed;

And time shall put them both to bed,

But she shall lie with earth above,

And he beside another love.”

And sure enough beneath the tree

There walks another love with me,

And overhead the aspen heaves

Its rainy-sounding silver leaves;

And I spell nothing in their stir,

But now perhaps they speak to her,

And plain for her to understand

They talk about a time at hand

When I shall sleep with clover clad,

And she beside another lad.”

Well that doesn’t really help my mood. Thanks for nothing, Alfred.

I continued on anyways, reading through some more poems. My mother had taught me to always read poetry out loud. You lost something without it, at least with the classics. Soon I lost myself in the rhythm of it, focusing more on the feeling of reading than on the actual words. It was a relaxing experience to be carried away by the cadence rather than the content.

Some hours later I noticed my stomach rumbling. I had probably dozed a bit while reading on the couch, but the book was still in my hands. I put it down on the coffee table and rolled off the couch and onto my feet. Somehow it was already past five. I grilled up some chicken on the stove and made myself a salad to go along with it. When I was finished I set my plate on the small kitchen table and grabbed the TV remote, turning it on and surfing through the channels until I found ESPN and left it there, more for background noise than any real interest in whatever they were talking about.

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