Chapter 8: The Backdoor Conquest
The ache was a deep, throbbing reminder in her core and a sharper, more unsettling sting from behind as Emma led the way down the hall. Every step felt alien. This was the hallway she walked each night to slide into bed beside Will, to share the quiet details of their day. Last night, Will had made love to her here. It had been tender, familiar, a gentle rhythm that asked for nothing. She had faked her climax, her mind treacherously replaying the raw, voyeuristic image burned into her memory: Tyler hammering into Rachel Berry against the custodial closet, the brunette’s face a mask of ruined pleasure.
She pushed the bedroom door open. The sanctuary. Lavender. Soft lamplight pooling on the knitted throw.
“On the bed,” Tyler said, his voice not a request. It was a low command that slithered through the perfumed air.
She stood frozen, her hands clenched at the sides of her practical skirt. Tyler sighed, a sound of exaggerated patience, and stepped close. His fingers, which had dragged her by her hair hours before, now worked with a chilling efficiency on the buttons of her blouse. She flinched at each pop, her breath hitching.
“I… I’ve never…” she whispered, the confession pathetic even to her own ears.
“I know,” he said, peeling the blouse from her shoulders. “Only good old Will. That’s a fucking shame.”
He made quick work of her skirt, her pantyhose, her sensible underwear. Soon she was naked, arms crossed instinctively over her breasts, thighs pressed tight. The cool air of the room pebbled her skin. Tyler took a step back, his eyes touring her body with a slow, appraising leer.
“See? That’s what I mean,” he said, shaking his head. “All those prissy cardigans and high-necked blouses. Hiding this. It’s a crime, Mrs. Schuester. A genuine crime.”
He pushed her backward gently until her knees hit the mattress and she sat down. “Lie back. Spread your legs for me. Let’s have a look at what all the fuss is about.”
Trembling, Emma complied. She laid back on the duvet, the fabric soft against her spine. She turned her head to the side, staring at the framed wedding photo on the nightstand as she let her knees fall apart. The exposure was mortifying, complete. Tyler knelt on the floor at the foot of the bed, his face level with her spread sex. He didn’t touch her, just looked, his own hard length straining against his jeans.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, but it wasn’t tender. It was covetous. “All married and pristine. Well, not so pristine after last time, huh? But this pretty little pussy is.” He leaned forward, his breath hot on her inner thigh. “Gotta get you ready. And I know just how.”
He repositioned himself, leaning on an elbow beside her hip, his gaze locked on her face. His finger trailed a feather-light path from her navel down, stopping just short of her curls. “You wanna know how I got here? How I earned a spot in your bed? It started with your precious glee kids.”
Emma squeezed her eyes shut.
“Open your eyes, Emma. Look at me while I tell you how I fucked your students.”
She obeyed, her vision blurred with unshed tears.
“Quinn Fabray,” he began, his voice a conspiratorial rumble. “Think she’s all holiness and perfection. That blonde bitch looked at me like I was mud on her Cheerios. So I cornered her after practice. She was still in that little skirt, those pompoms on the floor.” He smiled at the memory. “I pushed her against the lockers, got my hand under that skirt. She fought for about ten seconds. Then she felt how hard I was. She fucking melted. Let me hike that skirt up and take her right there. She was so tight, screaming into my mouth about how Puck never made her feel like that. Came so hard her knees gave out.”
Emma felt a treacherous flutter in her stomach. She hated it.
“Then there was Tina,” he continued, his finger finally making contact, a slow circle around her clit that made her jolt. “Shy little thing. At a party at Puck’s. Mike Chang was in the next room playing beer pong. I led her to the basement.” His touch became more deliberate, a soft, maddening pressure. “Her pussy is so small, Emma. Tiny. When I pushed into her, she cried. Not sad tears. Overwhelmed tears. She kept whimpering that I was splitting her in half. I fucked her like that until she was hoarse. Then my boy Jake came down. And we shared her. She took us both that night. Me in her ass, him in her cunt. Never seen a girl come so hard in my life. She was a mess after. A beautiful, used-up mess.”
A low, helpless sound escaped Emma’s throat. His stories were vile, exploitative. Yet, the graphic images bloomed in her mind, vivid and horrifying. And his finger… it was working in slow, knowing circles. A warmth, separate from her shame, was pooling low in her belly.
“But Rachel,” he said, his voice dropping. He added a second finger, spreading her folds, just resting there. “Rachel Berry was the trophy. So hung up on poor, dumb Finn. Thought she was above it all. Took me weeks. Little compliments. Accidental touches. Finally got her alone in the auditorium. Told her I could make her feel something a choirboy never could.” He chuckled, a dark, rich sound. “She said no. Right up until the moment I kissed her. Then it was like a switch flipped. That righteous fury just turned into pure, dirty hunger. I bent her over the piano bench. Fucked her so hard the sheet music flew everywhere. She didn’t say Finn’s name once. Just screamed mine. Took my load and begged me not to tell.”
As he spoke, his fingers finally slid lower, pressing at her entrance. They slipped inside with an easy, wet sound that echoed loudly in the quiet room. Emma gasped, her back arching off the bed.
“You’re soaking,” Tyler whispered, his eyes gleaming with triumph. He pumped his fingers slowly, deeply, curling them inside her. “Listening to me talk about fucking your little glee girls gets you wet, doesn’t it, Guidance Counselor? Your married pussy is dripping for me.”
He was right. A shocking, slick heat had betrayed her entirely. The proof was on his fingers, inside her, the room now faintly smelling of her own arousal mixed with the lavender. The shame was incendiary, but it was fueled by a need that dwarfed it.
“I think it’s time,” Tyler said, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them to his mouth, tasting her with a slow, obscene swipe of his tongue. “Past time. I’ve talked enough. Now I’m gonna take care of this hungry, married cunt.”