Stephanie Reeves had just turned thirty-seven, though most people guessed her a few years younger. She still wore her long chestnut hair down past her shoulders, a style her students often complimented, and her figure remained enviable despite two teenage sons. She wasn’t slim like the girls who filled her orchestra room, but she carried her curves with grace — full hips, a soft middle that gave way to a generous bust, an...

She was really something, that Angela. I was one of the newest teachers on the faculty, the new soccer coach, and she was one of the school’s more experienced teachers, with over ten years. But she caught my attention at that very first in-service meeting, clowning around and almost flirting as we sat together in the back row, pretty bored with the proceedings. She was asking me about my background and making a real effor...

Vanessa Hudson was an attractive 39-year-old high school English teacher known for her commitment to student success, especially the athletes, whom she offered after-school tutoring to in order to keep them eligible to play sports. She was feeling melancholy about her age following her recent birthday, despite her loving husband’s reassurances of her beauty. During tutoring sessions, Vanessa kept her attraction to some of...

It was just after 1:30 p.m. on a warm spring Friday—minimum day at the high school—and Rachel pulled into Damon’s driveway for their first weekday afternoon tryst. Nearly a week had passed since their all-day hotel rendezvous, when Brad had believed she was attending a work-related professional development workshop. That memory still stirred Rachel’s pulse, but today’s meeting had a different, more immediate energy. The t...

It was my senior year in high school, and I turned eighteen the summer before. I worked hard and took extra classes, which gave me enough credits to graduate a year early. But due to some stupid district bylaws, I had to take two classes to graduate, and they had to be taken in my senior year. My days were filled with electives until my final mandatory class. I bitched and moaned about my situation in pure teenage fashion...

Monday Morning – 6:11 AM Rachel turned onto a quiet street behind an industrial park, where modest homes sat with cracked driveways and sagging mailboxes. The faint orange horizon began to stretch. The world felt paused—suburban silence before the day roared to life. She spotted the address. Damon had given clear directions: gray house with a chipped black mailbox and two folding chairs on the porch. There it was. A singl...