Halloween candy, p.1

Halloween Candy, page 1


Halloween Candy

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Halloween Candy

  Halloween Candy

  Jenna Rose

  Copyright © 2019 by Jenna Rose

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Also by Jenna Rose




  1. Mr. Cox

  2. Emily

  3. Mr. Cox

  4. Emily

  5. Mr. Cox

  6. Emily

  7. Mr. Cox

  8. Emily

  9. Mr. Cox

  10. Emily

  11. Emily

  12. Dr. Cox

  13. Emily

  14. Emily

  15. Mr. Cox


  Also by Jenna Rose

  Chapter One

  Mr. Cox

  As a teacher, there are rules about fraternization with students. Actually, there’s only one rule: you don’t do it. But when one of your students is Emily Powell, a girl so gorgeous she could drop out of high school to be a supermodel, all bets are off.

  She came into my classroom like she’d stepped off a catwalk, her teenage hips swaying back and forth over her long legs, braless, perky C-cups bouncing beneath her worn black band t-shirt that was covered in holes.

  I guess it was the trendy style or whatever. I didn’t know anything about all that, but what I did know was the sight of her bare skin had my blood pumping and my pants tightening so much that I had to take a seat behind my desk and finish teaching from my chair.

  And that was the first day of school.

  Somehow, this beauty had managed to make it through four years of high school without knowing just how gorgeous she was. Maybe it was because the teenage doofuses around her were too terrified to even talk to her. But then again so was I—but for entirely different reasons.

  I knew it would be next to impossible to restrain myself around her, and that was a big problem. Sure, she was eighteen but I was her math teacher, and that made her completely off limits.

  She was effortlessly sexy. It didn’t matter what she wore, she still had me practically falling over myself when I laid eyes on her. Whether it was a pair of torn black jeans, short denim shorts or a pair of yoga pants, she was a ten out of ten, a flawless beauty that filled my mind with dirty thoughts: what did that body look like naked? What was her orgasm face like? Had she even had one yet? Did she shave?

  Those last two in particular I didn’t like to think about. If she’d had an orgasm before, that meant someone else could have given it to her, and that made my blood boil. And if she shaved that tight little pussy she was hiding beneath her pants, that meant she was doing it for someone else.

  And what was worse was that I would catch Emily looking at me from time to time. I’d seen a flicker of attraction in her eyes on the first day of class, but she hid it well. She clearly didn’t want to be another one of the girls checking me out and making jokes about my last name.

  I was “the hot teacher” at Meadowbrook High and everyone knew it. The guy teachers liked to joke with me about what they’d do if they were in my position, and the women teachers had almost all ended up flirting with me at some point in time. Mrs. Arrington had even put my hand under her dress in the teachers’ lounge one day after lunch, but that’s a whole other can of worms right there.

  But I never let any of this get in the way of my career. I had a great job, one that I loved, and I wasn’t about to risk it all for some silly office romance or by breaking the law and returning the affections of one of my students.

  But the day before graduation, I almost lost control with her.

  “Mr. Cox?” she’d asked, waiting until all the other students had left the room before coming up to me and leaning over my desk, giving me a face full of her cleavage. She was wearing a halter top that was dangerously close to being out of dress code, but I wasn’t about to bust her for it.

  “Yes, Miss Powell?”

  “I was just wondering if you could help me with this problem,” she smiled. “It’s giving me a hard time.”

  Yeah, you’re giving me a hard time, I thought as I took her notebook from her.

  “Is it?” I asked. “You are my best student.”

  “Yeah, I think—I think I’m just having a mental block.”

  Fuck! I thought as I glanced up at her. She hadn’t taken her eyes off me and I could feel my cock rising in my pants as I stared into her beautiful blues. I forced myself to look away and examine her work, and quickly saw that she’d made a careless mistake that was throwing her off.

  “Ah, right here,” I said, pointing it out.

  “Oh!” Emily giggled, causing her tits to bounce. “What’s wrong with me?”

  Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

  “We all do it,” I smiled, wishing simultaneously that she would stay and leave. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to have her or she had to get out of my sight before I lost control.

  “Oh, you do it?” she asked with a smile.

  Is she flirting with me?

  “Yes, Miss Powell. I too make mistakes,” I replied, fighting to keep it professional. But it was a losing battle. Did she know what she was getting herself into? Probably not. She was just flirting, something she could tell her friends later.

  “I’m going to miss your class,” she smiled. “You’re, like, the best teacher here.”

  “Well, thank you, Miss Powell,” I replied. “You’re a great student.”

  I almost lost it when she smiled, tilted her head to the side and twirled a length of warm, brown hair around her finger.

  “So, you’ll miss me?”


  “I—I will certainly miss your contributions to the class,” I replied. This answer didn’t seem to satisfy Emily, and she gave me a little pouty face that made me wonder what her lips would taste like against mine.

  “You’re not supposed to say that!” she exclaimed. “You’re supposed to say that you’re going to miss me.”

  I tried not to picture her naked. I tried not to envision her long legs spread wide open as I drove my cock inside her, making her perfect boobs bounce and her face twist in pleasure. I tried to ignore my dick pulsing with lust beneath my desk. But I failed—I failed miserably.

  “I shouldn’t say something like that, Miss Powell,” I replied.

  “Why not?”

  “Because…I am your teacher and you are my student,” I said firmly.

  But I’d like to teach you a few things.

  “That doesn’t mean you can’t miss me,” she smiled. “I’ll miss you!”

  “Okay,” I nodded. “I’ll miss you, Miss Powell.”

  “Emily,” she corrected me. “Miss Powell sounds like my mom.”

  “Emily,” I replied.

  She leaned down on her elbows, giving me an even better view of her cleavage and I felt my dick pump to its full size, pressing against the fly of my pants, screaming to be let loose. It took every ounce of self-control I had to not reach out and take her right there.

  Does she know she’s doing this? I thought. She had to—didn’t she? Or was she really that innocent that she had no idea the effects she had on a man.

  “Well, I have to get things wrapped up so I can head home, Emily,” I told her as I shuffled some of my papers and closed my laptop. “Is there anything else you need help with?”

  “Nope!” she said happily, standing up and stealing the view from me. “That was it. Such a dumb mistake. I hope I don’t make any of those in college.”

  “I’m sure you won’t,” I replied. “You’re a good student
, Emily. Probably my best.”

  “Aw, that’s nice of you to say,” she blushed.

  “I’m not just saying that. It’s true. I shouldn’t tell you that, but it’s the end of your high school years so it doesn’t really matter, but you’re the best student I’ve ever had. You’ll go far in life.”

  Thoughts of college freshmen swooning over her filled me with rage. How many bros, athletes and general douchebags would hit on her and which one of them would she finally settle on? If she was still a virgin, and I was pretty sure she was as I’d never seen her with a boyfriend in the halls, which one of them would claim her innocence?

  “You’re too sweet, Mr. Cox,” Emily said as she put her notebook back in her bag. “I’ll stop bothering you now.”

  “You’re not bothering me,” I told her, unable to disguise a hint of lust in my voice. She caught onto it but pretended she hadn’t.

  “Well, have a nice night!” she said as she slung her backpack over her shoulder.

  “Fuck,” I muttered to myself as I watched her ass jiggle on her way out. I couldn’t decide which I liked more—the front or the back—and settled on the fact that I didn’t have to prefer either. They were both awesome. She was awesome. She was flawless.

  I wanted to strip her down, kiss every inch of her, lick her breasts and suck her nipples, run my tongue up her tight little slit and tease her pussy with my cock before penetrating her and claiming her as mine.

  Satisfied that she was gone, I got up and closed the door. My dick was ready to explode, and I was seriously considering lowering the blinds and jerking off so I could make it out of the halls without anyone noticing, but just as I turned around, I heard the door open behind me and turned around to see Emily standing there.

  “Emily!” I exclaimed.

  “Hey, Mr. Cox. I forgot my sweater—” Her voice cut off and I immediately knew why; she’d seen it. My bulge was impossible to hide and she couldn’t stop her eyes from moving down to it.

  Keep it together, Dylan, I told myself. Don’t risk your career.

  But when Emily looked back up at me and I saw the look in her eyes, I realized that the battle that had been raging inside me since the day Emily arrived in my classroom had been lost, and she was the victor.

  “I—” she started to say, but I moved right in and leaned on the wall so I was almost touching her.

  “I’ve been holding out all year,” I told her. “But I don’t know if I can any more.”

  Her beautiful eyes had me hypnotized. She smelled so fucking sweet and her lips glistened, making me picture her pretty little pussy. Was it wet under those pants? She wasn’t looking at me like a student anymore; she was looking at me like a woman, a beautiful woman who saw something she wanted.

  Don’t, I thought. It’s wrong.

  But was it? Graduation is tomorrow. After that, she wouldn’t even be my student anymore. Was it really wrong if we both wanted it?

  “I’ve never seen you with a boy,” I whispered. Emily blushed, looking away.

  “That’s because I’ve never had one.”

  My heart jumped.

  “Why not?” I asked. “A beautiful girl like you?”

  Emily shrugged, embarrassed by her admission. Little did she know it was exactly what I’d wanted to hear.

  “Like you said—I’m a great student,” she replied. “I guess I just spent too much time studying.”

  “Emily,” I said. “But after tomorrow, I won’t be Mr. Cox anymore; I’ll just be Dylan. I may not be your math teacher, but there is so much I want to teach you.”

  “You—you do?” she replied, her lower lip trembling.

  “So much. Do you want that?”

  Emily hesitated, her eyes wide and innocent, but then slowly nodded.


  My heart flared and my body cried out. I couldn’t hold out any longer. My eyes on her wet lips, I leaned forward. She leaned towards me at the same time, and just as our mouths were about to meet, her cell phone blared from her bag.

  “Oh!” she cried out with surprise, fumbling for the thing as it vibrated and rang at the same time.


  “Don’t answer—” I started to say, but it was too late. She unlocked the phone and raised it to her ear.

  “Hey, mom!” she stammered. “No. No, I’m still at school. Okay, yeah. I’m leaving now.”

  My heart sank. Emily smiled at me, then turned away, still on the phone, and walked out of my life. The last I saw of her was at graduation, smiling as she took her diploma and threw her cap in the air, and then she was gone.

  Chapter Two


  Four months later…

  The crisp autumn breeze blew my hair across my face as I stepped out of my car and made my way up to the steps of my house. I hadn’t been back since I’d left for school and was happy to see that my family hadn’t given up their pumpkin carving tradition while I was gone.

  Three pumpkins sat beside the door; a witch, a spider and something looking like a monster that must have been done by my little sister whose artistic talents were…let’s just say cute.

  The whole neighborhood was in full Halloween effect, with fake spiders and spider webs, pumpkins and flickering orange lights. Mr. Franklin had his Michael Myers on his front lawn, hiding behind a tree with a motion sensor that played a scary sound when you got too close, and Charlotte had her blow-up snowman with a pumpkin on his head on her porch. It served as a two-in-one decoration, as she could strip it of its Halloween décor come winter and be ready for Christmas.

  “Emily!” Margaret screamed as I stepped through the front door. I almost toppled over as she threw herself into the air and clung to me like some kind of monkey.

  “Hey, Margie,” I smiled as I braced myself against the wall. “How are you, sis?”

  “It’s so good to see you!” she laughed as I managed to set her down without injuring either of us. “How have you been? How’s school? Did you meet any boys, go to any cool parties?”

  “Cool parties?” I frowned as I set my bag down. “You’re only thirteen, what do you know about cool parties?”

  Margaret giggled and put a hand over her mouth to hide her braces. “Oh, I know a lot more than you think I do, sis.”

  I sighed and nodded. Yeah, kids did grow up faster these days.

  “Well, let’s not make that the focus of your learning,” I told her.

  “Amen to that!” my dad exclaimed, coming out of his study with his arms out for a hug. “There’s my little girl. How are you?!”

  I may have been a college freshman, but I wasn’t bashful about hugs from dad. I threw my arms up and jumped at him a little more civilized than the way Margaret had jumped at me. He caught me and hugged me in a way that made me realize just how much I’d missed being home.

  “Taking your little sister out tonight?” he asked. I turned to Margie who looked ready to burst with excitement.

  “Isn’t thirteen about the cutoff age for trick or treating?” I teased her.

  “Yup!” she nodded. “And that’s why we’re going big tonight!”

  “We?” I asked. “Oh, I’m not getting dressed up—”

  “Yes, you are!” she said firmly. “I have it all planned and you aren’t going to pull any of that college girl crap on me!”

  “College girl crap?”

  “You know—where you guys just wear like lingerie or whatever and put cat ears on your head and say you’re a cat?”

  I snorted. She was absolutely right. That was exactly what Halloween had amounted to at school. The frat boys were even calling it Slutoween and had been partying all week in anticipation of the 31st. In fact, that was one of the reasons I’d come home for the weekend.

  My school was great, but it had a big party culture surrounding the Greek life, and I just wasn’t into it. My roommate was chill, thankfully, but the dorm was pure chaos and I spent most of my time with noise-canceling headphones on or hiding in the stacks doing my homew

  “Okay, Margie,” I gave in. “What did you have in mind?”

  “We are both going to be witches,” she said firmly. “I have everything all picked out. Come on. I’ll show you.”

  “I haven’t said hi to mom yet!” I laughed as she took my hand and began to lead me upstairs.

  “She can wait! This is important!”

  I had to go with her; she was my sister and she was excited to see me. It smelled like mom was cooking—something that she rarely did—and I made a note to go down and say hi to her after I examined whatever Margie had for us. She led me into her room where two of the exact same witch costumes were laid out on her bed, mine with a blue wig and hers with a red one.

  “See!? How awesome is that?” she asked. She picked up one of the two pumpkin candy baskets and a simple wand that looked like it had come from a Harry Potter costume. “And matching wands and baskets!”

  “Um, Margie?” I asked, looking at the two witch’s robes laid out beside each other. “Where’s my robe?”

  “Right there!” she pointed.

  “Yeah…you know you’re like five inches shorter than me, right?” I asked. Margie started to say something but stopped when she realized what I was getting at.


  “Yeah,” I replied as I picked up the one that was mine and held it up against my body. The hem of the “dress” barely reached my mid-thigh. “We’re gonna need to go get a me-sized one.”

  “We can’t,” Margie groaned. “These were the last two at the store…”

  I sighed and let out a laugh. “So much for your attempts at desluttifying my Halloween costume, sis. God, I hope I have some black leggings with me.”

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