Her Dirty Professor Series (21+)

“Holy shit! Have you told Brad, Casey, and James yet?”Content held by NôvelDrama.Org.

She giggles.

“Yes, of course! They’re over the moon with excitement, and they’re also hoping that each baby has a different father. That would be perfect, wouldn’t it? Each of them would be biologically related to one of the children then.”

I stare at my buddy, whose belly does seem to be especially large, come to think of it.

“But is that even possible?” I ask in a flabbergasted voice. “Can each egg be fertilized by a different man’s sperm?”

Carrie merely winks and nods.

“Yeah, it’s biologically possible, and you know that I let all three of them take me all the time. So it’s definitely logistically possible too.”

I shake my head with wonder.

“Holy cow, Carrie. Wow, that’s incredible. Congratulations!”

She nods, her brown curls bobbing.

“I know. I’m so happy, and this is what Club Z gave me,” she says with a satisfied smirk. “What the club giveth, comes in threes.”

It’s my turn to giggle now.

“You’re right. Who would have thought that you’d do a gangbang and then end up in a long-term relationship with the three men who claimed you? Goodie for you.”

Carrie nods.

“But enough about me, Peyton. So, are you still going through with your little revenge plan?”

I nod grimly.

“Basically, yeah. It’s like what I told you when I was still in Chicago. My dad’s in real bad shape, Carrie. Like he doesn’t come out of his room anymore, and just sits there in the dark.”

My friend’s expression is horrified.

“Oh my gosh, really?” she asks in a small voice. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

I nod.

“I know, it’s really heartbreaking, not to mention depressing. But I’m going to fix this. I’m going to put a stop to my mom’s cheating by stealing her boyfriend and making her pay. Then, Monica’s going to be the one crying foul!”

My friend grimaces a little, although she speaks in a gentle voice.

“Yeah, but do you really think that’s a good idea?” she asks. “I mean, I know you’re well-intentioned, but these things sometimes have a way of backfiring.”

I grit my teeth while searching for my matching purple heels and bag.

“Yeah, but my mom deserves it. I mean, Monica’s a total bitch. While I was visiting my dad today, she started having sex with the pool boy right outside his window! It was so crazy! Who does that?”

Carrie gawks at me through the phone, her jaw dropping a good three inches.

“Did she know your dad was there?” my friend manages in a strangled voice. “And that he can hear? And see?”

“Of course!” I grind out. “She’s just a bitch like that. But I’m going to get revenge for my dad now. Just you wait.”

Carrie nods slowly.

“So you’re going to stalk the boyfriend, right?”

I nod.

“My dad already told me his name. He’s Brant Harrison, and actually, he’s not just the pool boy. He’s the owner of Cool Poolz, but I guess he still does some of the manual work himself. Anyways, I google-stalked him and figured out where he lives. Now, I’m going to pay him a little visit.”

I expect my friend to be completely on-board, but instead, Carrie just nods carefully.

“I support you, Peyton. I really do because I’ve stalked men in my past too before. But just be careful, okay? Remember, these things don’t always turn out the way you expect.”

I nod.

“I know, and I totally get it. I’ll be careful, don’t worry. Now, how do I look?” I ask while doing a three-sixty in front of the phone. The tiny purple dress hugs my curves, and the stiletto heels make my legs look long and creamy. My blonde hair is brushed into luscious waves, and my make-up is subtle, yet vampy at the same time. It’s perfect. I’m going to make this Brant Harrison person wish he’d never been born.

“You look beautiful, Peyton,” Carrie smiles over the phone. “I know that what I say at this point doesn’t matter, so just have fun okay? And be safe.”

“You know I will, girlfriend,” I say before blowing a kiss into the phone. “Now, get some rest! And some food! You’re eating for four, so you’ve got to keep your energy up!”

With that, we laugh and say our goodbyes before hanging up. Carrie’s a great friend, and I adore her. I’ll be missing her baby shower because I’m stuck here in Oakdale, but that only makes me even more determined to carry out my plan: to steal my mother’s lover, and to make both of them regret the ruinous path they’ve chosen.

Peyton

I sit in my rental car outside Brant Harrison’s house, slouching behind the wheel. Oof, my dress has pulled up so that the fabric’s basically showing off my pussy, but it doesn’t matter. There’s no one to see in this quiet neighborhood, and besides, it’s getting dark. People are starting to settle into their homes for the evening, so no one’s going to notice a single woman scoping out the premises.

But it’s Saturday night, and I hope to god that Brant goes out on the town because how else am I going to set my trap? As a honey pot, I need to seduce the handsome alpha male, and that’s not going to work if he decides to Netflix and chill for the night. I sigh, swiveling my chin to the right to stretch my neck a bit. It pops audibly, and I roll my eyes. It’s not attractive to do that, but then again, there’s no one watching at the moment.

Suddenly, the door to Brant’s house opens and the man steps out himself. Goodness, he’s handsome. Of course, I’ve already sort of seen him already, but his back was turned when I was at my parents’ house, and nothing prepared me for the sheer perfection of seeing him face-to-face. He’s got patrician features with a bright blue eyes; a strong jaw with a cleft in it; and a mouth so sensual it would look good on a woman. His black hair waves off a proud forehead, and he’s got the body of Hercules too, with broad shoulders, a muscular chest and long, lean legs. Of course, at the moment, my target’s clad in a black t-shirt and jeans as opposed to being butt naked, but still. If anything, the clothes only enhance how drop-dead gorgeous this man is.

But then, a shiver of doubt makes me go cold, and I duck behind the wheel reflexively.

Can you really pull this off? the voice in my head asks. Brant Harrison is a Greek god, whereas you’re you, Peyton, with junk in the trunk and a too-big butt. What if you fail? What if he’s not attracted to you at all?

I look down at my jiggly thighs, which at the moment look particularly meaty since they’re spread out against the car seat. But still, I’m here on a mission, and I give myself a pep talk.

Men are men! I scold myself. They like big tits and a big rear end, and you’ve got both. Besides, Rudy’s suffering because of this asshole, so you can’t let your dad down. Act slutty! Be a ho! You’re from Club Z, so you know how to make a man drool.

With that, I square my shoulders while staring out my windshield. As I watch, Brant gets into a truck, totally oblivious to my presence, before pulling out of the driveway and rolling down the street. That’s when I thrust my key into the ignition and start my car before trailing him. After all, the voice in my head is right. This man has made my dad’s life miserable, and he’s going to pay.

Fortunately, Brant doesn’t go far. He stays local instead of getting onto the highway, and after about fifteen minutes of easy driving, we pull into a strip mall. Then, he gets out of his truck before striding into a bar called the Red Rooster. It doesn’t look like much, to be honest. The bar occupies a corner spot in an otherwise unremarkable shopping mall, and has dark windows as well as a sign on the front with the logo of a Red Rooster. Very trite, if you ask me.

But I’m here for a purpose, and I scramble out of my rental vehicle before checking my image in the window. Blonde hair fluffed? Check. Tight purple dress? Check. A flirty smile? Check check. We’re good to go, and with a confident stride, I head to the Red Rooster.

When I open the door, I see that my suspicions are correct. There’s nothing special about this joint. There’s nothing not special about it either, but it’s just a dark, narrow room with a long wooden bar along one side, with bar stools tucked below. In back, I can make out a room of sorts which looks to be empty, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’ve caught a glimpse of Brant in the last seat in the back, and I sashay down while ignoring the other patrons.

I stop right next to him and pretend not to see him before shooting a smile at the bartender.

“Hey,” I purr with a smile. “A martini please? With vodka, not gin, and very dirty.”

The bartender nods and turns away, already pulling out the alcohol. In the meantime, I take a seat next to Brant and sure enough, he smiles at me.

“Hey there, sweetheart. You got a name?”

I pretend to be surprised that he’s even there.

“I’m sorry?”

His blue eyes flash merrily.

“Name? Mine’s Brant,” he growls.

“Oh, I’m Petunia,” I say with a sweet smile. “But you can call me Pet.” Using a fake name is part of my plan, and Brant doesn’t blink. Instead, he nods, his look speculative.

“Petunia, hmm? That’s a pretty name.”

I nod.

“Yeah, it was my mom’s idea. Petunias are her favorite flower, so when I was born, she named me after them.”