Two chatty teachers headed to the parking lot at the end of the school day.
Seeing the custodian mopping the tiled hallway, they slowed their steps.
“Be careful, Jenna,” Natalia Hampton said, ending their chit-chat. “It’s wet. Don’t slip.”
She took Jenna’s thin hand.
“I’m okay,” the lean Kindergarten teacher said as she pulled away her hand. “You’re the one who’s in heels.”
Jenna and Natalia walked close to each other and took short, careful steps.
The man stopped his languid swishing of the mop.
When they had passed by, Jenna flung her silky golden hair over her shoulder.
“Hello, Jermaine.” Jenna offered a smile and a dainty wave. “Thank you for today.”
The dark man nodded graciously. He spoke as languidly as he mopped. “No problem. Glad to help.”
The pair looked at each other for a second too long, and the accompanying teacher noticed.
Natalia walked next to Jenna and touched her shoulder. “What happened today?”
Jenna was flippant. “Oh, nothing really. I needed his help in my classroom.”
Jenna then attempted to change the subject. “I am so excited that my class moved to the second chapter—”
Natalia stopped her. “A kid puke?”
“Huh?”
“Did one of your munchkins puke?”
“Yuck! No.” Jenna cringed, stiffening her back at the word.
“That nasty gerbil of yours get loose?” Natalia laughed gruffly.
Jenna frowned and curled her eyebrows in feigned anger. “Stop it now! Nibbles is not nasty.”
“Then what was it?” Natalia asked directly.
Jenna huffed.
“If you must know, I have this … my classroom has a washroom, okay. I think a student must have dropped a toy down in the toilet—maybe a block or something.” She looked over her shoulder. “Right, Jermaine? You saw more than me.”
“No kiddie mess. Just a toy, yes, ma’am, it was.” He gave a quick, bright grin.
He began mopping again. His back was bowed, and his eyes stared at the shining floor, not at Jenna.
“Mm-hmm.” Natalia stopped walking, while Jenna took only a few more steps.
Jenna felt Natalia’s dark eyes dart between her and the quiet Jermaine, moving his mop.
Natalia’s nose scrunched and her eyes squinted skeptically. This middle-grade teacher had noticed there was something to hide. Jenna knew Natalia instantly had transformed into a bloodhound, and the dog had just latched onto a scent.
Natalia adjusted the cross-body strap of her leather tote bag.
Standing there, things became more intense and worrisome for Jenna. The chemical smell of sharp bleach cleaner burned her nose, and the mop slopped, wet, on the well-worn tiles.
No doubt, Natalia was sniffing a scent too, but it wasn’t bleach.
Jenna needed to clean up the mess she had just made—having almost exposed hers and Jermaine’s fascinating alone time in her classroom earlier in the day.
Natalia’s mind must have been creating and conceiving all sorts of scenarios and situations.
Jenna decided, though, to give the squat teacher a direct answer to show she had nothing to hide.
“Really. Just innocent toilet problems. It’s, you know, kids.”
Natalia still didn’t move. She pushed her hand into her round hip.
Jenna flashed a pursed grin and switched the folders to her other arm. The folders, which had been held close, might have been deemed a defense shield—if a private eye or therapist were analyzing her moves. By shifting the folders, Jenna believed she conveyed that she was open to Natalia and not stonewalling. It was a subtle message of body language. She hoped it worked.
Natalia remained steadfast and staring, but Jenna just walked on. She tried to continue along without a worry and as happy-go-lucky as any Kindergarten teacher could be.
The hallway was quiet. Even Jermaine made no noise. Only Jenna’s tiny, white flats tapped on the hallway floor as she headed to the exit door.
Natalia gruffed. She stomped to Jenna’s side. Her heels clacked and echoed over the tiles. Her faint cigarette scent beat her to Jenna.
Jenna hoped the woman, with scenarios rolling around in her head, now believed she had sniffed a scent that led to a lot of nothing. However, the bloodhound didn’t give up. Natalia didn’t seem convinced there was nothing.
“I know on our end of the school,” Natalia said with squinted eyes, “it isn’t toys that get flushed down the toilet.”
“That’s because your preteen students have outgrown ‘happy’ school days,” Jenna said.
Natalia clamped her hand around the lash of her tote.
“They’re sick by the time they get to my class—sick in the head.”
As the teachers walked to the door, Natalia rummaged through her tote bag. “My keys gotta be in here.”
Seeing Natalia’s attention was elsewhere, Jenna gave a wink and a delicate wave to Jermaine. She mouthed a goodbye.
Natalia looked up just in time to see Jenna turning away from the man with the mop. She paused again, glancing back and forth between them.
Jenna left the building at a quicker pace, although not going fast enough to convey she had a secret—hopefully.
But, outside, Natalia blocked Jenna before she reached the edge of the parking lot pavement.
“Jenna.” She spoke sharply like a mother confronting a rebel daughter. “What’s going on? Tell me.”
“What, I can’t be nice to somebody?” She tightened the folders against her chest and headed around Natalia. She pointed her chin high in the air.
Natalia blocked her again.
“I can pinpoint a liar really easily,” she said, “and your eyes don’t hide much.”
Jenna walked around her again, avoiding eye contact.
Jenna passed a tall Ford pickup truck, with the hood as high as her shoulders, and then a blacked-out Mercedes. On the other side of the car, the lights on her shiny white Civic blinked orange. The doors unlocked.
She grabbed the door handle. But Natalia caught her before she could slip inside and close the door.
Natalia leaned her hip on the door and crossed her arms. She glared, lowering her chin.
Jenna had seen that scrappy glare. The mean bloodhound would not let go of the scent.
Jenna merely huffed. “Is this how you are in class? No wonder kids hate it.” She tried to smile after the cut. “For real, I had a problem today. Jermaine was nice enough to help. What more is there? Nothing.”
“Your cheeks are red and you’re trying to play coy.”
“Moi?” she said in a dramatic French accent. She touched her chest as if aghast by such an accusation.
“Yeah, you. Don’t play coy with me, missy. I have kids at home and a classroom full of liars.”
Then Natalia pointed a stubby finger. “The more you avoid answering, the worse my assumptions get. A toilet clogged by a toy turns into you flushing the joint.” She squinted, as if trying to see into Jenna’s mind.
“Gross! Marijuana? Please.” She moved to the car door. Natalia stepped away.
Jenna opened the door.
“Now, I’ve got to get home, Mrs. Hampton. I’ll see you tomorrow—maybe.”
“Listen, I can go right back in there to talk to that guy. Want me to?” she barked. “Do you?”
Natalia’s face was red.
Jenna tossed her folders onto the passenger seat. But before getting in, she took a step—coming inches from Natalia. She stood a head taller than the older, heavy-set science teacher.
Jenna answered slowly and steadily. “Go ahead. Talk to him. I have got nothing to hide.”
Ending their brief standoff, Jenna got into her car. She slammed the door closed.
The young teacher drove her compact car intentionally slow through the parking lot. She hoped to prove she really did not have anything to hide—her ploy all along that she feared was about to collapse.
Jenna sat studiously upright, hands at ten and two on the steering wheel. She did not look at Natalia as she passed.
Inside the car though, Jenna’s heart chugged, and her chest tightened as if running a race. This showdown shouldn’t have happened, and Jenna feared it wouldn’t end soon. For now, she hoped Natalia would not talk to Jermaine.
From the corner of Jenna’s eye, she noticed Natalia pointing at her, saying something—likely threating—and then pointing at the exit door. Jenna just rolled on.
When Mrs. Hampton was out of sight, Jenna tried to release her tension from the blowup. Jermaine would keep their secret.
Waiting for a traffic break at the parking lot exit, the car’s blinker clicked steadily. She nevertheless wished Natalia would not even go back inside.
Jenna suddenly slammed her hand on the steering wheel. “Mind your own business, bitch.”
Jenna left the lot, but, instead of heading home, she pulled into a concealed parking space at a restaurant that was a block from the school.
She wanted to see how long before Natalia left the school. She could determine whether she had spoken to Jermaine.
Only moments later, though, Natalia pulled out of the school’s parking lot in her dusty minivan.
Jenna’s shoulders eased, and she could breathe easier.
While parts of her calmed, she noticed other parts were overheated. She had just raced to the edge of orgasm based solely on the fear of getting caught. She had gotten fucked hard at school and then was almost exposed by another teacher. It was an odd erotic thrill.
“Holy shit!” She put her forehead against the wheel to let the rush of excitement subside. “My god.”
Soon, she backed out of the parking spot with extra care. Her mind was a swirling mix of fear, worry, and burning-hot arousal. She had to consciously control her right foot from pushing the brake pedal too harshly, jerking the car to a stop, as well as hammering the gas pedal, speeding ahead.
“Keep sane. Keep sane,” she repeated.
She made the right and left turns to home. No driving problems. At home, there was one other issue to deal with immediately.
She left her folders in the car. She zigzagged through her apartment, kicking off her flats. By the time she was in her bedroom, she had shed her messy panties.
She went directly to the nightstand. The rose-colored dildo! Her Ina, a close friend. She skipped the teasing murmurs and went straight to the wildest throb.
A hard thrust into her pussy and she was sailing again.
The day of hard sex, a rendezvous with Jermaine, a much desired, no-holds-barred fuck, near exposure of the deed, an after-hours orgasm. The onslaught of it all brought her immediately to a nuclear orgasm, rocking her body and leaving her on the bed fabulously fatigued.
After the body quake, the dildo rolled out of her hand, which was too zapped to keep hold. Her right leg dangled over the edge of the bed, toes barely brushing the carpet. She imagined it would be nice to get under her comforter. However, she didn’t want to move. She wouldn’t move. This tumult had her body and mind rocking, and tremors continued on, although slowly fading as she fell asleep.
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