He stammered. “I, uh, yeah, so I made the team.”Cassie smiled wildly. “That’s great, Pete. I knew you would. You’re the best fielder they ha...ve.”“I didn’t, uh, mean to grab you and ... yeah, sorry.”“It’s fine. Maybe we can hit All American after practice? Do you need to get home right away?”His growing smile matched hers. “No, burgers would be great. I ... actually, I should check with Mom. I think she wanted me to watch my brother tonight.”“I think it’ll be okay, but definitely check.”Cassie. "I stammered, “up to?"He just grinned.Our stop was next and he got up to get our stuff together, he kissed me as he reached over for my water and book. “Mmmmmm you taste good,” was all he said and carried on I nervously watched him put the book in a bag and made sure I grabbed it to carry, my stranger's card was inside the flyleaf and I needed to look as soon as I could to find out his name. I knew deep down that I had to see him again and that somehow I would organise it. We got home and bags. I immediately felt a quiver run through my chest and down my stomach. It was nothing short of the highlight of my week. My regular English teacher – Mrs. Cricket, a cranky old lady in her sixties – had fallen and broken her hip or something and for the last three weeks we’d had a male substitute teacher. He was around 26 and had the most incredible face with hot hazel eyes you just wanted to be fucked by. My finger slipped down my stomach as I thought about him watching me, his giant eyes being. Was it her expression? His hesitance was welcome. She had no time or inclination for small talk. “Just what?” She replied. Already turning to go.She carried on walking slowly, showing his company was welcome on this level and not much more. But then her head told her to say something. “Come down here with me”. She took his warm hand and led him down one of the many dark, and secluded, alleyways.She stopped and put her back to the wall. “On your knees” she commanded, in a firm but quiet voice..