MATURE READERS ONLY. Okay...So this is my first. Tell me how badly I did. Haha. Now stop reading the AN and go read!


Samantha once again looked at the clock and tried to smile. Still, it only read 11:57. People had been changing into their jeans already.

She just wanted to leave.

"DOES CASINO NIGHT START AT TWELVE?" she screamed over the music.

"IT STARTS AT ONE!" Cassie yelled back, swatting away her boyfriend.

After a moment of thought, Sam spun around, checking her eyes once again for eye make-up and salt water, and said she was going home. Cassie looked disappointed, but knew she was having a rough night with, and let her go, moving her purse so she could find the keys to her car.

Reaching the door seemed to take forever. Navigating the crowd was difficult enough, but doing it in heels took a whole new level of skill. Sidestepping a group of prom-goes as best she could in her little black dress, she made it to the tunnel of paper that led to the exit and, grateful for darkness, the tears began to flow.

Samantha wiped the tears with the back of her hand, cursing her mascara and looked up at the ceiling for a moment. Once again, the tears threatened, and she finally blinked them out, catching them like small diamonds in her hand, wiping away the rest with the other, and nearly running into someone.

"Sam?" Samantha looked up, acknowledging her history teacher, Mr. Sampson. "Hey, are you okay?"

Even the cover of dark couldn't hide the fact that the tears behind her eyes were brimming, reflecting in what little light there was.

Sam began to answer, but stopped to clear her throat and tried to begin again. "I was leaving. I um, to go home early. Why are you here?" She kicked herself mentally for being such a klutz. He was a teacher. It was prom.

"I told Coach Reynolds I'd be backup roulette dealer tonight. It's kind of a big deal. Not going to stay and play?"

"I don't think so." She managed a half smile.

He leaned closer, she could smell his cologne, and whispered, "Even if I help you out a bit?" his deep voice rumbled in her ear.

"Even if you help me out a lot."

He leaned back, his head cocked slightly to the side with his arms crossed, one eye brow held higher than the other. "Do you even have a ride?" She jingled her keys. "…but you don't want to go home." She didn't know what possessed her that minute, but she nodded, and his dark eyes brightened. "We were talking about movies the other day and you recommended one…. I actually rented it and haven't yet had a chance to watch it yet. You could come over and watch it with me, if you wanted to. It would make you feel better." He lowered his voice again. Though Samantha had been 18 for several months, she was still his student, and he was still her teacher.

And again, her reaction to his voice, low and husky, in her ear frightened her, and she heard herself say yes.

She awoke within herself as he opened the door for her, helping her into the huge truck. Wearing a black mini dress and heels, she needed help, and he was there to help her, at one point, his hand brushing her thigh. Samantha subconsciously brushed the spot he touched the entire ride to his house, which was a few minutes away.

"So are you going to tell me what's up?" He asked, turning onto the highway.

"Not if I don't have to." She replied smugly.

It was silent for a moment, and he clicked his tongue. "I won't let you make up the quiz you missed on Friday."

Grades had always been important to Sam. This was something Mr. Sampson liked about her, she was ambitious, beautiful, and one of the most talented women he had ever taught that never failed to catch his attention intellectually, personally, and sexually.

Her breath caught in her chest, and she mockingly put her hands to her mouth to gasp dramatically.

"Not that!" she cried. He turned away from the road for a moment to grin at her, and she felt her body grow weak. He had never looked at her that way before.

At that moment, he noticed she brushed her thigh where he had touched her when helping her in the car. When his hand touched her leg, it had not been an accident, he had to reach out and touch if, if not only slightly. His hand where he touched her still burned. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her finger stroke up and down the small patch of skin.

All of a sudden he wished he wasn't driving so he could brush the small patch of skin himself…to taste her skin, to smell her, to hear his name come from between her two lips…

And then he realized to her he was still Mr. Sampson.


"If you wont tell me what's wrong, I won't tell you my first name."


"I know your first name."


"Yeah? Prove it."


"Evan." It was his turn to be stricken by the sound of her voice saying his name. His first name. She began unconsciously making lazy circles around the place with her ring finger.

"Okay, so you do. Now you have no choice but to tell me."

"Look, I'm not even upset anymore, Evan, so don't worry about it."

Again, he looked at her with his crooked smile as they pulled into a driveway. "It's working already. What did I tell you?"

Sam laughed, opening the door, stepping carefully onto the concrete of his driveway, looking at the empty space where another car could go.

"Didn't you say you had a roommate?"

"Yeah, but he moved out a few weeks ago with his girlfriend."

"Not enough room for three?"

"Nah. He couldn't trust her around me." He winked, opening the door for her. She laughed, then hesitated, placing her hand on his shoulder for a moment to steady herself as she reached down taking one high heel off, then the other, carrying them both by their straps in right hand, casually walking in her bare feet as he closed the door, all the while watching the unconscious swing of her hips.

"You know…for a bachelor, this place isn't bad. No beer cans on the floor…the walls are painted. What are you? A clean freak?"

He smiled and shrugged, hanging his keys and jacket up. "I happen to like it clean."

She looked up at him, her eyes twinkling and threw her heels onto the floor, jumping up onto the kitchen counter where she sat, staring at him, arms crossed, smiling mischievously with her eye brows arched, feet dangling towards the floor.

"Hey, look. I made a mess." She arched her eye brows in challenge. After a moment, he leaned down, neatly placing her heels next to the cabinets, and leaned against the counter next to her, using the opportunity to get closer.

Having his side pressed against hers caught her breath and attention.

"Clean." Their eyes met.

Never before had she been this close to him. Other boys? Yes. But her body had never reacted quit like it did. She noticed the scruff around his neck and way his mouth crinkled when he smiled and the way he smelled like wood and pine needles and…something else. Something unique that she had never smelled before. But she liked it, and she wanted to get closer.

So she did what anyone would have done, biting her lip, she reached out and touched his face, running her hand across the unshaven gruffness of his cheek, and suddenly her face was only inches from his, his breath intermingling with hers. Their eyes met and he moved forward, moving one arm to her waist and running up and down her hip and side, with the other arm on the cabinet behind her as if to entrap her, when the weight of his hand on the cabinet caused a disruption inside, causing them to jump apart at the noise.

He moved his hand from her waist and safely closed the cabinet, but the moment had passed. She jumped down, once again leaning against the counter next to him.

"And what about that movie?"

A few minutes later they sat together on his couch, brown and plain, but clean with a few tasseled pillows laying about. Blushing, he told Samantha that his roommate's girlfriend had put them there and he hadn't bothered to take him off yet. Samantha just laughed at this, sitting as comfortably as she could, but a few minutes later to her surprise, he laid down next to her, his head half on her legs, half on the silky black material of her dress. His relatively close cropped black hair prickled her thighs, and doing what anyone else would have done in her situation, she reached down traced her fingers through his hair and began playing with it, occasionally brushing his forehead.

At this angle she could stare at him, touch him, feel the warmth of his skin and the weight of his body against her. Her heart, once racing, was calming, leaving her more alert, more conscious of everything, and she felt him begin to stir.

"If you fall asleep I'm going to be really pissed."

He only laughed and sat up. "Sorry. I can't help it." He pulled her bare legs up onto his lap. She stared at him in surprise, but leaned against the arm of the couch, relaxing against him, as he began to run his calloused fingers lightly over her legs.

Suddenly glad she had shaved only hours before, her heart, almost back to normal, was now beginning to hammer.

His fingers traced on the top of her foot to her knee, and then back and forth, almost as if he was doing it unconsciously while staring at the screen where the movie was still playing, but she knew better. There was a slightly calculated way he was getting to all the sensitive parts of her legs, paying special attention to the outside of her calf and near the underside of her knee. No longer caring about the movie, she stared at the screen but was completely awash with the sensations of him stroking her.

Up and down and back and forth….she felt like she would cry out in frustration if this didn't either continue or stop soon.

His hand etched up and up her legs, soon nearing the line of her dress. She felt herself get hotter and hotter as his hand got nearer and nearer, and finally he touched the hem of her dress, if only slightly. The next time he stroked, it went slightly under the material, and being no longer able to stand it, Sam pulled herself up and suddenly straddled his lap, each leg on either side of him, her dress slightly riding up, grabbing him by the collar to steady herself for a moment as they looked at each other.

His eyes at first were wide with shock, then they laughed with amusement and finally they met her in her seriousness. Soon, whatever longing for his touch she had when she moved was replaced by his hands wrapping around her lower back to pull her closer against him, and she was aware but unselfconscious about her dress now ridding up to her hips.

She pulled his mouth closer to hers, and their mouth collided, kissing personally as he rubbed his hands up and down her sides and she once again lost her hands in his hair. They broke apart only as Sam reached for the bottom of his shirt. Once it was off him, their eyes met and while her eyes doubtlessly showed the same thing, the lust in his eyes hit her like a wall as he half carried her to the nearest wall, pushing her against it as he continued rubbing his hands up and down either side of her body, then rising up against this smooth skin of her legs under her dress, which once again had fallen back into place. His mouth found her collarbone and neck when she tilted her neck back and began whimpering, his sign of possessiveness causing her temperature to rise even more.

In a moment, he realized he could only feel the silk of her dress with his bare chest; again he began searching for a zipper. Soon she realized what he was doing turned around as he carefully lowered the zipper of her dress, helping her step out of it, and then from a few feet aware, violating her black strapless bra clad body with his intense, burning eyes.

Briefly smirking at him, she unhooked her bra and threw it onto the floor, running her hands over her perfect breasts, pausing with her fingers running over her nipples to look at him as he stood there slightly slack jawed. Soon, his rough, calloused hands replaced her soft ones in stroking and finally completely covering them with his palms and kissed her, their lips desperately attached to each other.

The tips of his fingers found the hem of her panties and he pushed up against her, playing lightly with the thin elastic material against her hips. She bit his lip and wrapped her arms around his neck and was soon grinding against him, tired of his teasing, as he pushed her back against the wall with one hand and began stroking her lightly through the thin material of her panties.

She was aware of his eyes on her face as she let out a shark breath of air and threw her head back against the wall, pushing herself harder against his hand, but he refused to rub harder or faster and continued to watcher her face, covered in lust and frustration. Opening her eyes, she saw his smirk and immediately re-wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. As their faces grew closer together, he slipped one finger beneath the material of her panties and she let back a cry, half in frustration and half in relief. She closed her eyes again and whimpered as he began stroking her again, this time his eyes focusing only on her face, watching her react to his fingers occasionally slip in and rub her.

Sam let out another cry of frustration and looked at him in anger. He smirked, but scooped her up bridal style and roughly deposited her on the couch, where she lifted her hips for him to completely remove her underwear. He then immediately put his head between her thighs and began tasting her entrance, occasionally using his fingers to allow him better access.

Sam, though completely surprised at being thrown on the couch, couldn't complain when he began eating her out. At first at a loss of what to do with her hands, she found them stretched out on the couch, her nails digging into the leather, or running over her breasts, causing her even more pleasure. The unfamiliar sensation began causing her to shake moan.

The sound of his name coming from her lips so breathily and lustfully made Evan do a reality check. To prove to himself this was real, he buried himself deeper in her cunt.

Soon Evan laughed into her clit as her thighs began clenching around his head. The air and vibration causing by his laughing caused Sam to bite her lip to not scream. After a few more moments of his ministrations, she found it impossible to not make noise as her body quaked and shook with pleasure, a scream being ripped from her throat as her nails dug even deeper into the leather of the couch, unconsciously holding his head in place between her thighs as she rode out the waves of her orgasm.

As her orgasm finally subsided, she laid there for a moment, breathing heavily in recovery. Sure, she had had orgasms before, in the shower and while in her room when her parents weren't home, but nothing like this had ever happened to her. To thank, she had Mr. Sampson, to her, Evan, tall and muscled, standing over her, in nothing but his boxers, wiping her juices from his mouth with the back of his hand while stroking himself through the material of his boxers.

Sam stared at him for a moment from where she lay before sitting up and standing unashamedly before him stark naked, only inches away, one hand going behind his neck and the other going to his boxers.

This time, Evan was the one pushed up against the wall. He brought his face next to hers and stared into her eyes, pushing their lips together.

"Payback," She purred, smirking through the kiss, and running her hand only briefly up and down the length of his swollen member through the thin material of his boxers.

He grunted and put his head back in defeat. It was going to be a long night.

I'm not sure if this was horrible. And I'm agonizing over it. So tell me how I did. In detail. Please.

Sequel? Does anyone want one? Only if you leave helpful reviews!