The horrifying shock of witnessing her husband banging his skank-whore secretary spurred this ever-wholesome and rule-following teacher to seek some new lessons of her own. A young teacher learns about sexuality, pleasure, and satisfaction from rather unlikely and forbidden teachers, her former students, now recent college graduates. Not only does she get “schooled” by the beautifully-built all-American football player who struggled to pass her class, but she also learns a few tricks from the innocent, well-read, and thoroughly sexy bookworm. Both men teach her that not all curricula worth learning comes from a book.
Go through the journey Janelle Garrity-Flowers faces after discovering her husband’s infidelity. Growing up, she followed the rules, but now, she wants to defy the norms and play by her own rules. Janelle explores her own sexuality, searching for pleasure beyond her wildest dreams. However, despite this callow teacher’s “lesson plan” of forgoing the rules and not letting emotion get involved, the teacher must decide between the athlete, the scholar, and the career she loves. But what or who does she love and want more?
Briggs looked at me thoughtfully, started to say something, but stopped. Suddenly, he grabbed my hand, slipped the ring off my finger, and kissed the flowers on my ring finger. My mouth went dry, opening slightly. My breath caught. He was staring straight at me with the most crystal blue eyes I’ve ever seen on a black man. I pulled my hand away, shuddering quickly. “So Briggs, what’s with the blue eyes anyway? That’s not typical with African-American men.” I asked.
He laughed, really laughed, as he was spinning my wedding set on the table. The diamond was still the shiniest rock I’d ever seen. “Miss G, don’t YOU do your homework? I’m mixed; my dad’s a pretty good-looking, blonde-haired, blue-eyed white man. He’s a stud.” That can’t be true. I met his parents a few times throughout his senior year. They were a powerful African-American couple.
“I met your parents. Remember, we had to find a way to get you to read a damn book?” He never read a book in my class, as far as I knew.
He laughed; it was contagious. I loved hearing him laugh, being able to laugh with him while my marriage and world was crumbling around me was welcome. I really shouldn’t be sitting at a bar, yukking it up with old students, while my world fell apart. But I had to ignore it. At least for now. I loved having a distraction.
“Nah, you didn’t meet my old man. My dad was some country club prick who knocked up my mom when she was 18. As soon as he found out she was pregnant, he bailed.” Briggs spun my ring again. “My dad’s parents would’ve freaked their shit if they knew he’d gone black. The man you met, my dad, the one who counts, adopted me when I was nine. He made me who I am today.” He seemed so proud of his adoptive father. Had always seemed so.
“I never heard this story. When I had you write your personal narrative in class, you wrote about starting Varsity as a freshman. Why wouldn’t you write about your adoptive father or the flaws in your biological father ?” I was shocked. I couldn’t believe that I didn’t know something so personal about one of my students. I was the teacher who knew her students, who personalized their educations, who they could talk to, come to, confide in. This was important information; I didn’t know it. That was unlike me.
“Shit. Right. I’m not even that deep now; you think I could think past Friday night then?” As I looked at Briggs, I began to realize that I didn’t know him as well as I thought I had. He was always a dumb-jock, with a beautiful body, and great athletic talent. I hadn’t given him the benefit of the doubt.
Continuing, he said, “Actually, I think it’s some shit that black dudes always get the rap of knocking up our women and leaving our kids high and dry.” He took a long pull from his beer. He was such a man. A sexy man. “That’s bullshit. My white dad bailed. The black one stayed. My white dickless father can rot in Hell. He’s a son of a bitch.” I could see the anger in his gorgeous blue eyes; they flared with anger and became a darker more prominent blue. “But he did give me these eyes and they have certainly paid off.” He sat back, smugly, and put his hands behind his head, his triceps rippled as he did so.
“I don’t get it, what’s that mean?” He lost me with that last bit.
“Blue eyes on a black man are panty-creamers.” I stared at him blankly, not understanding. He laughed, leaned forward, grabbed my hand, pulled me closer to him across the table, and whispered, “When I look deeply into a woman’s eyes, any woman, with these blue eyes, I know I’m making her wet.” I blinked, staring at him, not able to pull my eyes away. Finally, I chuckled, shaking myself free of his intense gaze.
Laughing it off, I said, “Well I’m sure that works on a lot of young girls, Briggs.”
Still staring straight at me, he smiled slightly, winked at me and said, “Not girls Miss Garrity. Women—all women” he said as he slipped my wedding ring back on my finger. Even that move was sexy and seductive.
To all my readers out there who are enamored with Briggs, the blue-eyed blakc man. He wasn't always a black man. I was 1/3 of the way through writing the book and Briggs suddenly became black. You tube: OSU football players do THE DOUGIE and you will figure out why Briggs suddenly became the hot African-American man that he is! I must have watched that video 15 times with drool spilling out of my mouth.
And guess what! Deena is awesomely giving out TWO copies of Schooled to TWO lucky commenters! Enter through Rafflecopter, giveaway is international - ENDS 12-7-12. Thanks Deena!
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