Dean's Delight: The Principal of Pleasure Book Two: A Steamy Romantic Novella
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Authors: Aria Blue
Dean’s Delight
(Book Two of the Principal of Pleasure)
Aria Blue
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,
and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are
used factiously.
Copyright © 2016 by Aria Blue. All rights reserved. No
parts of this book may be copied or reproduced in any matter whatsoever without
written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical
articles or reviews. Printed in the United States of America.
Cover design by: Vamos Write
Books in the Principal of Pleasure Series
#1: The Principal of Pleasure
#2: Dean’s Delight
#3: History and Hedonism
Dean’s
Delight
Book
Two of the Principal of Pleasure
Dean’s
Delight:
The
Principal of Pleasure Book Two
Contents
Sundays
had always been Presley McGuire’s favorite day of the week when he spent them
with Sara Snow. At moment, she lay in bed beside him, face down the way she always
slept. He leaned over, pulling up her tank top, and leaving sweet, soft kisses
down her spine.
Sara
shivered underneath his lips. “Pres, what time is it?”
“A
little after nine. I was about to order breakfast.”
That
was part of their Sunday tradition. Sara called it Pajama Day. On Saturdays
they’d spend the day doing exciting things like rock climbing or horseback
riding, but Sunday was their day to recuperate before the start of the humdrum work
week.
They’d
stay in bed for half the day. Order in breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Watch movies
or get caught up with their shows on Netflix. Sara would read while Presley
watched
Penny Dreadful
because that show scared the shit out of her.
Sara
rolled over, grinning. Her short white-blonde hair was a mess and Presley
couldn’t help but run his fingers through it. He missed her long hair though.
She had chopped it all off because of him and their nasty break up, but now
they were working on getting back together.
Sara
had made it very clear that there would be no sex involved until they were officially
a couple and had worked out their issues. Presley would deal with that if he
had to, but sleeping beside her had been torture.
When
breakfast arrived, they settled themselves at the iron-wrought table on
Presley’s balcony. Like Sara, Presley thought the day was perfect. The sky was
crisp, blue and cloudless. Fragrances of fall danced in the air. The sounds of
the wind and chirping birds calmed Presley, giving him a sense of peace. It had
been a long time since he’d felt that way.
Presley
watched Sara spread strawberry cream cheese on her bagel and then suck off what
had gotten on her fingers. “We should do this every weekend,” he suggested.
She
took a bite of her bagel, nodding. “We should. I miss this. Sundays used to be
my favorite day of the week.”
Presley
was elated to hear that. “Okay. Let’s make it a date now. We’ll spend next
weekend together.”
Sara’s
face fell. “Oh, Pres, I didn’t mean next weekend. I have plans.”
He
shrugged. “So? Cancel them. What are you doing anyway? Going on some museum
tour with your parents?”
She
suddenly became very focused on her half-eaten bagel. “No. I have plans, Pres.
With someone else.”
Presley’s
face warmed with jealousy. “Someone else? You mean another man?”
“Yes.”
He
stood up, bumping the table and almost knocking over the pitcher of orange
juice. “What the hell, Sara?”
“Presley,
calm down. I made it clear that we weren’t exclusive yet. We’re taking things
slow, remember? Testing the waters.”
Presley
plopped down in his seat. He remembered that conversation but to him taking
things slow didn’t involve other people. He had no desire to date anyone else.
Why did she?
“Presley,”
Sara continued, “I don’t have to tell you this, but I will if it will set your
mind at ease. We’re going canoeing and that’s it. It’s something we’ve had
planned for a few weeks.”
That
didn’t make Presley feel and better. “We’ve been testing the waters for a
month, Sara. How long is this going to take because I’m ready. I’ve been
ready.” Presley hated to sound as if he were begging. He had no problem getting
any woman he wanted, so why did he have to beg? Sara had a way of making him do
things he never thought he would.
Sara
moved to the chair beside him, taking his hands in hers. “Pres, let’s not ruin
this day. I want it to be perfect like it used to be. We already have three
movies picked out while we snuggle up on the couch. This day is for you and
me.”
She
looked so beautiful it was hard for Presley to be depressed. He used his thumb
to wipe a crumb from the side of her mouth. A little bit of Sara was better
than no Sara at all so he would try not to think about the asshole who would
have the privilege of spending the next weekend with her.
On
the couch they settled in to watch
The Wolf of Wall Street
in their
usual position. Presley lay flat on his back while Sara lay on top of him with
her head in the crook of his shoulder. It felt just like old times. Perfect.
About
a half hour in, Sara stared up at him with her piercing blue eyes. She looked
just like a pixie. Presley pressed his lips against hers and they shared
passionate intense kisses. He stuck his hand underneath her tank top, running
his fingers gently up and down her back. Presley loved the moment as warm
sensations shot through his body, but it would kill him to share Sara with
anyone else. She had to make a decision and she had to make it soon.
Monday
afternoon Harrison and Presley were perched on stools in the art room watching
Ava do yoga to a YouTube video projected off a screen at the front of her
classroom.
Presley
was kind of annoyed that he wasn’t getting her undivided attention. She gave
him better advice than anyone. It was level-headed and unbiased. Harrison on
the other hand . . .
“Dude,
Sara is way out of line. You’re letting her play you,” He told Presley. “She’s
made you feel guilty about being with other women so you’re sitting at home
alone thinking about her while she’s out living it up with some random guy.
What the fuck? Presley, you’re better than this, man.”
Presley
agreed with him to some extent. He felt like he was ready to give Sara his all,
but she wasn’t returning the favor. The thought of her with someone else made
him sick to his stomach.
Presley
cleared his throat. “Yoga Queen, can I have your two cents?”
Harrison
sighed because Ava’s advice was always the opposite of his—good advice. Ava
stopped stretching and sat cross-legged on her mat. Her thick red curls were
pulled up into a ponytail. When she wore her hair like that she almost looked
like a twelve-year-old because of her tiny frame.
“Pres,
I know this sucks for you,” she began. “It’ll all work out in the end. You have
to understand that Sara has been hurt in the past—”
“But
I didn’t—” Presley began.
“I
know you didn’t cheat like she thinks you did, but in her mind, you did so she
needs to be sure before she puts her heart out there again. Pres, if you love
her, it’s worth the wait. You two are like Romeo and Juliet, destined to be
together. You definitely shouldn’t be worried about this guy she’s going out
with. She’ll come back to you when she’s ready. What’s meant to be will always
find it’s way.”
Ava
said that phrase all the time. Presley wasn’t sure if he believed it.
Harrison
scoffed, taking some of Ava’s hand lotion from her desk and rubbing it into his
mahogany skin. “Man, you’re letting this woman wear your balls like a pair of
earrings. First, she thinks you cheated on her simply because one of her
friends said so. You guys had been together for years and she wouldn’t even
give you the benefit of the doubt. She broke your heart. None of that was your
fault. Then she teases you by saying she wants to get back together, but only a
little bit? Now she’s going to be spending time with some other dude while
you’re sitting around depressed about it. What do I keep telling you? This love
stuff isn’t worth it. You need to move on.”
Ava
glared at Harrison. “Ignore that, Presley. People are lucky to find someone
they love and want to spend the rest of their lives with and when you find that
person, you don’t let go easily. You fight for it. Harrison is going to die old
and alone with a multitude of STDs. Don’t listen to him.”
“Hey!”
Harrison frowned, looking gravely offended.
Presley
had heard enough. They were both right but Presley wasn’t about to be Sara’s
prisoner. If she wanted to see other people, so would he.
Marcia
Fox, the American History teacher, clasped Presley’s hand, dragging him through
the deserted hallways of McGuire Prep. McGuire Preparatory was the most
expensive and exclusive private school on the west coast. Politicians, sports
figures, doctors, and lawyers all sent their children there.
The
hallways were paneled with mahogany wood and the tiled floors were always waxed
to shiny perfection. Presley’s leather loafers slid as Marcia pulled him along.
Presley McGuire wasn’t your typical principal. He was a stone-cold heart throb
who the teachers and mothers had fallen head-over-heels for. The school had
been founded by his great-grandfather, hence the reason Presley was principal
and his father was the dean.
“Where
are we going?” he asked Marcia for the fifth time. “Why are you being so
secretive?”
She
glanced over her shoulder. “I found a new place. I’m tired of doing it in my
classroom all the time.”
There
were only two places in the school where Presley’d had sexual encounters—the
backstage of the auditorium and Marcia’s classroom.
She
paused at the doors of the cafeteria. By now the cafeteria ladies would be gone.
The janitors clean up right after lunch, so the place should have been empty. She
pushed through the double doors. “There’s just something about doing it where
you can get caught.”
Presley
agreed except for when the place was in a school where they worked. They could
both lose their jobs or worse. Marcia wanted to hear none of it as she
playfully shoved Presley through the double doors. Presley smacked her ass. She
chased him around the lunch tables. After a moment, they ended up in the
kitchen.
Presley
was ready to go. He and Marcia never wasted much time on foreplay. He grabbed
her waist and hoisted her up on the stainless steel counter. Marcia was perfect
in his eyes. She had tan skin that made her green eyes flash brighter and jet
black hair what fell down her back. She was a curvy woman with tits and ass
that he couldn’t keep his eyes off.
Immediately
he attacked her sexy, pouty lips with his own. She was a good kisser. As they
kissed, his hands traveled up her firm thighs, pushing up her skirt. She never
wore pants—easy access for him.
Marcia’s
stroked Presley’s cock through his pants. “Hmmm, feels like somebody’s happy to
see me, Principal McGuire.” She unbuckled his belt, pulled his zipper down and
shoved her hand down his boxer briefs. Marcia stroked his cock back and forth
and their tongues intertwined.
Presley
shoved his hands between her legs sliding two fingers into her lace panties. He
rubbed her throbbing clit, and she thrust her thighs back and forth moving in
rhythm with him.
After
a minute, they were ripping at each other’s shirts and bottoms until they were
both standing completely naked. Presley threw her down on the counter ready to
take her until Marcia stopped him. “No. Get something from the fridge.
Something yummy.”
There
were several industrial sized refrigerators in the school’s kitchen. Presley
searched through a few of them before he found a canister of whipped cream the
cafeteria workers used for the chocolate pudding.
Marcia
grinned when he brought it over. “That’s perfect.” She adjusted herself so that
her entire body was laying flat on the counter. Presley squeezed whipped cream
on each of her nipples, then he crouched over her to suck it off. Once the
cream was gone, he sucked on her hard nipples, pinching and pulling with his
teeth just a bit.
Marcia
ground her hips in pleasure as she rubbed her clit with her index finger. He
then took the whipped cream and squeezed a tiny clump on the opening of her
vagina. He licked it off, his tongue grazing and flicking her clit, Marcia
moaned louder and louder. Thank God they were in a deserted part of the school.
Next,
Marcia found a bottle of chocolate syrup. Presley took her place on the counter
as she completely covered his cock and balls with the syrup. Then with that
sexy mouth of her, she proceeded to suck off every drop, taking his cock as far
down her throat as it could go. Presley grunted as she licked his balls,
stroking his hard cock with his hand.
He
couldn’t take it anymore he had to be inside her. Her took her, bent her over
and then spread her plump ass cheeks apart. He slid his dick in between them
and she quivered. It had been a long time for them, almost two months.
The
intensity spread throughout his body as he pumped in and out. Marcia clasped
the counter trying to maintain control of herself. Presley fucked her, moving
in and out, until finally he came. He shouted as stars exploded before his
eyes. He collapsed on top of Marcia as they both struggled to catch their
breaths, panting loudly. He moved her hair to the side, kissing the back of her
neck. Presley licked the tattoo of a strawberry she had on her nape that was
always hidden by her hair.
After
a moment of recuperation, the two separated and reached for their clothes. A
loud clanging sound coming from the corner drew their attention.
Ms.
Jones stood in the doorway wide-eyed. “What in the actual fuck?” she demanded.
Presley
and Marcia looked at each other. They both stood completely naked. The chocolate
syrup and whipped cream were still on the counter. There was no possible way
Presley could talk his way out of this. There was nothing to do but beg.
“Ms.
Jones,” he began, “please, I know this looks terrible, and it’s completely
inappropriate, but can we pretend like this never happened? Please.”
Marcia
was already hastily dressing behind a tall stack of trays.
Ms.
Jones smirked, giving Presley a good once-over—taking extra long as her eyes
took in his cock. “So this is what all the fuss is about? I don’t get it.”
Presley
blushed and grabbed his pants sliding them on. Jones’ smirk turned to a look of
disgust. “Have you two lost your minds? You must have. I’m not even going to
explain how wrong it is for you to be engaging in sexual intercourse with a
teacher, but to be doing it in the kitchen! On the counter where food is
prepared for our students. I’m sure the cafeteria staff had sterilized it
thoroughly before leaving never imagining that you two would be getting your
sweat and nasty bodily fluids all over it!”
By
that time Marcia had finished dressing. She emerged from her hiding spot
wringing her hands together. “Please, Ms. Jones, nothing like this will ever
happen again.”
Ms.
Jones glared at her. “Please excuse us, Ms. Fox, I will deal with you later.”
Marcia
glanced at Presley who nodded, “It’ll be okay,” although he didn’t know that at
all. Their careers and reputations were in the hands of Ms. Jones and he
couldn’t think of anything worse than that.
Marcia
ducked her head, avoiding the stares from Ms. Jones, and left the kitchen.
Jones folded her arms across her chest and moved closer to Presley. “Let me
explain to you what’s going to happen now and you can forget trying to talk me
out of any of this. You should know by now that your charm doesn’t work on me. I’m
going to tell your father and then both you and Marcia will be fired. I don’t
know what you’ll do after this and I don’t care, but poor Ms. Fox. What will
she do? She’s not a rich kid with a trust fund. What school is going to hire
her after this? It’s a shame really because she’s such a good teacher. Uh, uh, uh.
Your inability to keep that thing in your pants has ruined that woman’s life in
a matter of minutes. I hope you’re pleased with yourself.”
Presley
was more worried than Marcia than himself. He cared about her and didn’t want
her career to be over. “There has to be something—some kind of arrangement we
can come to, Ms. Jones. Please.”
She
thought for a moment. “There is only one thing that would make me keep this secret.”
Presley
swallowed hard. “Yeah, what’s that?”
“Your
job. You have until the end of the week to tell your father that you’re
resigning as principal. Make up some excuse. Say it’s too hard for you or you’re
incompetent or something—we both know that’s true. Tell him he should make me
principal and then you can step down and be VP. I do all the work around here,
anyway. It’s only fair that I get the title and the pay for all I do.”
Presley
slumped against the counter taking in her words. He might not have been the
best or most conventional principal, but he loved his job and he loved McGuire
Prep. He didn’t want to step down, and he definitely didn’t want to work under
Ms. Jones. He could only imagine how little time it would take her to drain the
fun and life from the school. McGuire Prep wasn’t just a school—it was his
family’s legacy. “Why don’t I just quit? That would be better for you since you
hate me so much.”
Ms.
Jones studied the ceiling thoughtfully. “No. As much as I loathe you, if you
quit, someone else would be brought it and who knows who that would be? I’d
rather work with the demon I already know. This conversation is over, pig. You
have until Friday to make your choice.”
She
turned on her heels to leave, but Presley stopped her. “How did you know we
were in here?” he asked. He got an uneasy feeling. When he’d had a threesome
with the PTA moms, Jones had shown up just as they finished. She knew something
had happened, but she couldn’t prove it. Jones had no reason to be backstage in
the auditorium. Now here she was again. What was she doing in the kitchen after
school hours?
“Are
you following me or something,” Presley asked. “Watching me on the surveillance
cameras?”
Jones
scoffed at the accusation. “Don’t flatter yourself. Presley, I do both my
workload and yours. Do you really think I have time to be following you around
this campus? Unlike you, I do my job. At the end of each day, I do a full sweep
of the campus to make sure that everything is clean, secure, locked-up, and in
its place. Have you ever done that? Even once?”
No,
he hadn’t, and he felt guilty because that was a pretty good reason.
“Anyway,”
she said, “I feel like I need to take a shower just being near you. This
conversation is over. Friday.”
That
time when she turned to leave, Presley let her. He’d always known that one day
his sexcapades would lead to trouble, but he had no idea this would be the
cost.