Lessons From My Best Friend's Dad: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance
Contents
Lessons From My Best Friend’s Dad
NEWSLETTER
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Extended Epilogue
Extended Epilogue
NEWSLETTER
A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS
BRATVA BEAR SHIFTERS
LAIRDS & LADIES
RUSSIAN UNDERWORLD
IRISH WOLF SHIFTERS
Collaborations
About the Author
Lessons From My Best Friend’s Dad
AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE
_______________________
A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 266
FLORA FERRARI
Copyright © 2021 by Flora Ferrari
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.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.
Lessons From My Best Friend’s Dad
Sheree
The last week of my final year at college.
I have a week to clean out my dorm room, finalize my trip home and finally breathe.
I should be happy. Four years at college finished. And I know I did well in all my classes, I just know I did.
So why does it feel so sad?
Is it because I’m leaving my best friend Zoe, who’s a year behind me?
Or knowing I’ll never see her dad again, who also just happens to be my major subject Professor.
The man I’ve had a crush on since I can remember, but once I came to college and found out he was my Professor. I almost drowned in my own lust.
It’s been a hard four years. Harder still not to tell my best friend my biggest secret.
It would crush Zoe if she knew, and I don’t think the Professor would be too impressed if he knew what I’ve been doodling about during his lectures.
What I’ve been imagining him doing to me while I try to focus on my work, sleep. Eating or anything.
Knowing it’s our last week, I feel like a part of me is dying inside.
Dying to tell him, to tell Zoe even.
To tell the world how I really feel.
But nobody wants a sex-starved nerdy, curvy girl with a volcanic crush on her teacher.
It’s so…cliché.
Like a fantasy, I should have for four minutes. Not four years, aching inside for the man of my dreams to touch me where no one has.
Sounds extra stupid now, real crazy town stuff.
But aside from no other male even noticing I exist, I’m saving myself for the one man I know I would gladly give myself to.
Unfortunately he just also happens to be my best friend’s dad.
There’s a lesson in all this for me, I know it.
I just hope it’s a kind, caring lesson and not the spanking kind that leaves me sore and sorry.
But then again…
Professor Michael Grayson
It’s my final term as Professor of Biochemistry at the college.
Five years on a contract has flown by, but it’s time to take a break, maybe for good this time. I’ve got other things I need to do with my life apart from teaching.
It’s a relief too.
I can finally put to bed all these crazy thoughts I’ve been having.
My daughter Zoe’s best friend, Sheree, who also just happens to be my star student?
Well. She’s kinda been on my mind lately.
A lot really.
I’ve told myself all year that a younger, curvy girl like her would never go for an older guy like me.
That the whole Professor/student fantasy is just that.
A fantasy.
Plus there are rules about that sort of thing. The rules that expire as of this week now that my contract with the college has run out.
Try as I might, with my daughter’s birthday coming up, I can’t help but see Zoe and her best friend Sheree every day it seems.
No biggie. I’ll be done soon. Zoe will stay on one more year to finish her degree while I fly back East. To Florida.
Sheree will graduate and get on with her own life.
Won’t she?
When Sheree visits me in my office, expecting me to help her plan a surprise party for Zoe.
She gets a surprise of her own when she sees exactly what she does to me.
What she’s always done to me.
Will she run a mile, tell Zoe, and ruin my career as well as her friendship with my daughter?
Or will she do as she’s told?
Stay back after class like I’ve always wanted her to.
Never letting her go again. Keeping her back after class for good.
Forever.
Mine.
* Lessons From My Best Friend’s Dad is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with a HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.
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Chapter One
Sheree
“Keep it or toss it?” Zoe asks, holding up another item. Another memory of my time at college here.
Another memento from the town I’ve grown to call home for the past four years.
Can’t say I’ve grown to love the town of Canning Wells. But more of what it's come to represent.
Certain people in it, too.
Sharing most of my college years with my bestie is my most treasured memory.
Almost.
A close second to the one thing I’ve grown to obsess over more than anything else, even my studies.
A certain Professor at the same college.
“Well?” she asks, making the face she always does when I zone out. Copying my look, but overdoing it so well I always snap out of it and end up laughing until I snort.
“Keep,” I affirm strongly, watching Zoe screw up her button nose before shrugging. Asking me why I’d want a copy of the college prospectus from four years ago.
Because it’s where I took his photo from that I framed. The one under my mattress.
Sometimes I still read the torn page opposite in the dog-eared magazine style booklet, where it describes Professor Michael Grayson.
My major subject Professor as well as my best friend Zoe Grayson’s dad.
I used to panic thinking about someone finding the photo, but apart from my best friend Zoe, I pretty much don’t exist to the rest of the world.
I think I’m the only student on campus with their own dorm room too. Nobody wanted to share with me.
Zoe rolls her eyes and adds it to the growing pile of ‘keep’ compared to the one thing in the ‘toss’ pile, my college backpack.
It’s a decent enough bag still, but just too many memories of heavy books and jock types putting horrible things in it as I’m walking by.
Definitely not something I wanna keep.
Zoe blows the fringe from her face before undoing her whole hairdo and re-tying it.
She has long, soft black hair. The kind you see in shampoo ads. And she literally does nothing to get it that way.
Her skin is perfect too, and her teeth. Her figure? Well. I don’t focus on that too much.
If I took Zoe at face value, I’d probably have to dislike her only because she’s so damned beautiful, especially when I’m standing next to her.
But she’s the sweetest soul too, and we’ve been friends for such a long time.
She’s the one person in the whole world who’s never mentioned my curvy figure, and she never teased me once in grade school about anything. Before we even knew each other.
Before I even knew she’d moved in right across the street with her dad when we were both so little it feels like a million years ago.
When life was so simple.
When we just played and had silly little secrets.
When the only thing that mattered was being friends and having sleepovers, staying up late.
But then she moved. Her dad being an academic who often moved around every few years as well as going to college still, bettering himself.
He’s a professor now.
A professor for the past four years at my school, and the one thing I never realized when I was a kid is just how amazing he really is.
How much those butterflies meant every time I saw or thought of him as I g
ot older.
When I found out he was the leading Professor of biochemistry at the college I was planning on attending, my major was decided.
It’s been a tough four years, and while I am interested in chemistry my biggest interest is something else.
The kind a certain male generates simply by existing.
I try not to sigh just thinking about him, but Zoe figures I’m getting worked up about having to leave college like I have a couple of times already this week.
Okay, a couple of times in the last hour.
“I’ll call you like every break I get,” she promises me again and I nod, smile softly, and hug her tight.
Telling her just how much I’m gonna miss her, which is true.
Thinking about her dad though.
I am gonna miss my bestie, it’s like losing a limb already.
But the thought of never seeing Professor Michael Grayson in class again, let alone once he moves back east?
It’s just awful.
Too terrible to even think about.
Zoe suddenly stiffens and gasps.
“I gotta go… Todd,” she says, noting the time on her phone as I groan, letting myself fall back onto my bed like I really am dying.
Todd.
“Just make sure and tell someone where you go with that guy,” I caution her. “I’ve heard he likes to—”
“I’ve heard it too,” Zoe practically squeals, cutting me off. “Why do you think I’m going out with him?”
She blows me a kiss and dances out of my dorm room, leaving the door open.
Leaving just me, my memories and as soon as I reach for it once I know she’s really gone, the framed photo of her dad.
My hands still tremble every time I hold it, look into his deep, dark eyes. The heavy, intellectual brow over them. His thick dark hair with a hint of silver.
His chiseled jaw is always set firm.
He’s in charge, his authority goes without question. Whatever he says goes, both in the classroom as well as every scenario I’ve imagined him in with me in my mind.
Far from being the scrawny academic type, Michael Grayson used to be a college football star before he was bitten by the science bug.
He turned down a sports career to study instead, and by his own admission in class. “Glad I did because most guys from that same team can’t even stand straight, let alone run or throw a ball nowadays because of all their injuries.”
At well over six-five, he’s an imposing figure of a man, and he’s kept all his original college physique somehow.
When Zoe’s mom arrived one day twenty years ago, handing him his daughter he never knew existed who was still a baby, he made another life choice and raised her as best he could as a single dad. Loving and supporting her in everything she does.
Except maybe her dating boys like Todd Freeman.
I sigh loudly, noting the tremor in the sound as another part of me shivers at the thought of the man.
My hands want to stray between my legs. I want to touch myself while looking at him.
Touch myself like I imagine he would.
But I know it’s useless. My own experience tells me that nothing on earth could match the strong hand of that man except the man himself.
Something I had for four years, right in front of me almost every day. And now?
I’m moving back west. About as far away as I could be from him and my best friend.
My own family is a pair of aging parents, who adopted me after fostering me, who I love dearly.
Oh, Professor Grayson.
Why couldn’t things have worked out differently?
Chapter Two
Michael
I walk through each row of the seemingly ancient bench seats of the humble auditorium that I used to teach from, used to teach from until this week.
I almost feel just as old myself.
It feels like I’ve been teaching here forever, but it’s only been five years.
Another contract is up and time to move on.
But for me, it’s time to take a long break too. Time to reflect on what I really want out of life.
My office is just out back of the lecture hall, a small door with my nameplate already removed by the college.
A still sticky line on the wood where it used to be in bold print, black on gold.
There are boxes piling up already, mostly empty because I can’t find the motivation to get going.
To move all over again.
To move away from—
Don’t! Don’t even think it.
She’s half your age man.
But it’s too late, I’m already unlocking the drawer after leaning against the office door, hearing its lock click in the latch.
A low rumble escapes me as I take the framed picture from my desk drawer.
It was a photo of Zoe and her best friend, Sheree.
I have the original someplace, tucked away. But this one is a copy and just an image of Sheree.
Her crystal blue eyes bore into mine from the photo.
Her strapless dress shows her ample cleavage as she smiles, cutting a cake.
Taken on her eighteenth birthday, which I missed. Being here at the college on the other side of the country.
Zoe had flown back West and stayed with Sheree’s family, for a week before returning home.
Full of smiles again after seeing her best friend, and also full of stories and pictures of her bestie.
Sheree.
If I’d known she was gonna be a student of mine, would I have done things differently? Would I have recommended she be put in another class?
Maybe.
But at the time I didn’t think too much of it. A young girl, sure. My daughter’s one and only best friend.
I’ve taught hundreds, maybe thousands of girls her age. Having a daughter so close to that age helps me too. I can connect with my students better.
No real conflict of interest. Especially seeing as I never mentioned it to anyone on campus or the faculty.
That was before the first day of class. The day I realized in a single moment that a picture doesn’t relay much at all.
From the moment Sheree stepped into my class as a young adult woman I knew I would always struggle to see her as just a student.
From that moment it’s been a knife’s edge for me every lesson, every day. With the nights alone being the worst.
But nothing’s harder for me than when Zoe and Sheree come over together.
She had a sleepover once, at the house Zoe and I rent off-campus.
I made sure I was out of town that night, the thought of Sheree under my roof. Sleeping just feet away from me was too much.
The thoughts I had then and still do now.
Seeing her in my mind. Her golden hair tumbling over that large, naked chest.
Her nipples like rivets as she gnaws at her lip the way she does when she’s nervous or shy. Pushing her glasses back up her nose and opening her creamy white thick thighs for me, showing me what needs my attention the most…
Fuck.
I’m doing it again.
I try to ignore the tingling wave of heat that runs across my stomach, down to my already pulsing hardness under my coat.
Trying to tell myself it’s okay to have a fantasy, as long as I don’t act on it.
Trying to put her photo at the bottom of a box and focus on piling books on top of it and taping it shut.
Tearing the box open moments later, growling like a wounded animal.
Needing to see her already, apologizing to her in my mind for putting her away like that.
Needing her now more than ever.
Needing to see more than a damned photo of her with her clothes on too.
This time of year, and with the heating off in this part of the building, I’m well covered but I can feel my aching dick spring to life, yearning for her sweet, young pussy all over it.