The next morning, Jenna turned off her car in the school parking lot and sat quietly for a moment with her eyes closed. She had a weight on her chest—a decision to make.
Tucked deeply in her tote bag was a plain white envelope. She had worked into the wee hours of the morning, drafting her resignation letter. Questioning her choice of words, her tone, the directness of the message, whether it should even be written.
Despite all that, she still was unsure whether she would hand it to Principal Simmon. The school offered her many positives and opportunities, professionally. Not to mention, the principal—her boss—backed up any of her to’s and fro’s at school and any problems that may arise. She felt safe.
On the other hand, the resignation was a viable option. The to’s and fro’s could cause major problems, ruining her career and her whole life. She would be safer doing her job and going home, not getting done and then going home.
But simply bringing the letter into the building might give her a sense of what to do—she hoped at least. She may want to burn it, or it may bless her exit.
She walked into a silent school. No one was talking. Teachers were attempting to gear up for the day, whether that was black coffee after a bad night or prepping lessons for a good day.
Jenna was surprised when she saw Jermaine walking down the Kindergarten hallway.
“Morning, Miss Kennedy,” he said.
“Hi, Jermaine.” She didn’t feel like saying more. But suddenly everything was swirling around her. Sex, resignation, secrets.
She rushed to her classroom. Loud talking came from her room. Jenna peeked in.
The kids had pooled around the heavy plumping tools. Arnold strutted, carrying an oversized wrench on his shoulder.
Carter buzzed his lips as he pretended a long screwdriver was actually a power drill.
Cindy was demanding that the two boys put down the tools.
“They are not yours,” she scolded like a mother.
“Stop it, boys,” Elizabeth added.
Miss Kennedy stepped through the doorway.
“Carter. Arnold.”
Terror contorting their faces, the boys tossed the wrench and screwdriver to where they had been. They rushed to the bookshelf and away from the evidence.
“You know these are not toys,” Miss Kennedy said.
“I told them, Miss Kennedy. They wouldn’t listen,” Cindy said.
Before Miss Kennedy could say any more, Carter opened “The Gray Goose”.
Jenna tensed. Her mind shot back to Rachel at the bar last night. “The Gray Goose” was a message among teachers that they wanted to get fucked.
Jenna rubbed her clammy palms down her thighs. Jermaine had been in the room and had, no doubt, seen the book. She was caught in an odd spot. He would be back for lunch. He already had planted a reason to be there. It would be a to and a fro for lunch.
As best as possible, she began the daily schedule. The students practiced drawing letters and basic math. The class’s monkey alarm clapped and went wild at 11:07—as always.
“Clean up, clean up! It’s time to clean up!” the Kindergarteners sang—as always.
In the middle of it, Carter came over to Miss Kennedy.
“Is the plumber guy coming back?”
“What do you mean?” Miss Kennedy asked, as her mind thought of his obvious question and her hidden hope.
“He left his tools. He must be,” Carter said.
“He may be back. I hope so.”
Carter clasped his hands. “Can I watch him when he works?”
Jenna patted her chest as she giggled. The boy’s innocent comments jellified Jenna with dirty thoughts.
“Big tools are cool.”
“Yes, yes, they are.”
Miss Kennedy ruffled Carter’s hair. “You can watch him while he works on the air conditioner. How about that?”
He gave her a thumbs-up. He seemed to bounce away happily.
“Okay, kids, in line. You’ve—we’ve got lunch,” she announced.
The class marched through the halls to the lunchroom. Jenna high-tailed it to her room.
Jermaine was already there.
Her heart beat faster, as excitement shot through her.
“Hi.” It was all she could muster to say at first seeing him.
He set down the heavy wrench.
“Need some work done?” he asked, giving a menacing grin.
She closed the door.
“Your tools there got my students’ attention. The wrench, the screwdriver.”
She walked to him. A long, smooth gait. “But you, you got me hooked on another—.”
Jermaine gripped her upper arm before she finished.
“Ow, ow! Wait, Jerm—”
He dragged her ruthlessly into the bathroom and slammed the door behind them.
She unbuckled her slim belt and wrestled with the button on her slacks. He pulled her blouse from the waistband and pushed it high enough that her bra appeared.
Her pants dropped to the linoleum flooring. The metal belt buckle clanked against the porcelain bowl.
Jermaine let go of her small bra. He instead yanked down her white panties to her knees.
As she shuffled a foot from the underwear and her slacks, he, like always before, ran his big fingers through her thick, golden-blond bush. Doing so, his hand smothered her pussy to her odd pleasure.
“Jermaine, come on,” she hissed. “Get going!”
She felt his heavy dick swat her ass. He wasn’t going to wait.
She spread her legs wide and bent over, her panties rung around her left ankle. She pressed both hands against the cold wall to balance the hard fuck she was about to get.
There was a sharp smack on her ass, followed by another. It was the same lingering sting had had gotten as a little girl when she had been bad. Jermaine had the same large hands as her father had had. While the pain lingered, it felt so good, putting her into a submissive place.
She locked her jaw when Jermaine’s dick shoved into her tight asshole. More pain, matching the sting on her asscheek.
“Fuck me hard, daddy,” she muttered. She tried to ease her ass.
Jermaine forced his way into. No remorse. Jenna screamed, followed by a wild howl.
She had let herself get too loud. She covered her mouth, as a natural reaction.
She lost her counterweight to his hard, mean thrusts. Her head hit the wall, as did her shoulder.
Jermaine didn’t pause or ease his blitz.
Jenna reset herself, sliding her left leg forward. The movement set off a new flare of pleasure. Pressing her forearm against the wall, she rubbed her clit. Her body took in quick gasps of oxygen until she paused, holding her breath. It flung her directly into rapture. It was as of molten gold ran from the crown of her head to her feet.
In some distant faraway feeling, her ass eased. Jermaine had pulled out.
His thick cream drooled out of her ass.
“My god, Jermaine, holy fuck.” She rested her head on her forearm that was still pressed against the wall. “That was …”
“Some good stuff.”
She felt his hand smack her asscheek hard again.
“That is some crazy dick.”
She heard his zipper go up. The door closed. She was left to clean up and quickly.
The kids began to return. It was earlier than usual, or she had lost track of time.
She stepped from the bathroom as a pretty teacher.
“Miss Kennedy, why are your shoes off?” Cindy asked, holding up the black pumps.
“Oh, no reason. My feet were just sore.” She took them. “Women wear the most uncomfortable shoes.”
“My stepmom always complains about her shoes and her feet,” Arnold said. “I tell her then don’t wear them shoes, but she says she’s got to. She works at night.”
“You have a bruise on your arm. Are you okay?” Cindy asked.
“I am fine. Don’t worry about me,” Miss Kennedy answered with a sweet smile. She got the kids to the afternoon activities to avoid any further interrogations.
After the final school bell, the waist-high kids saddled with backpacks flooded the hallways as they talked and laughed with the school day done.
Miss Kennedy saw a tall man stride kindly amongst the kids who were rushing out of school.
“Miss Kennedy,” Principal Simmon called, “we need to have a discussion.”
Her mood had eased throughout the day, because her students had been kind and had asked to give her hugs—especially intuitive Cindy. However, in a whoosh, the happiness flushed away. She had to face her boss.
She remembered, in her desk, was her drafted resignation letter. She had to face the situation. This meeting would determine her future.
“Have a seat,” Principal Simmon said, as he closed the office door.
Jenna sat on the edge of the couch.
“As you no doubt recall, you and Mrs. Hampton had that dust-up. For your information, this will be Mrs. Hampton’s last year here.”
“Wha—”
“She turned in her resignation letter this morning. I accepted it and wished her well. I would offer her a positive recommendation if she would like one for any future employment.”
Jenna fell back against the couch. A weight had fallen off her shoulders.
“Seriously?”
“For sure.” The man stood. “I thought it would be good for you to know. So, the issue I was going to ‘investigate’ has been closed. No further action necessary.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” In a dramatic fashion, she wiped her forehead.
“That’s what I needed to share.”
“Well, I thank you.”
“I told Mrs. Hampton and I am telling you too. Do not speak to each other. Turn the other way when you see one another. It’s best.”
“Of course.” Jenna eased her breathing.
“As a side note, my wife, Laura Beth and I have dealt with Rachel and her little issue. All’s square. Avoid her too as much as possible.”
Jenna nodded.
Principal Simmon stood.
“I’ll let you go to finished up the day.”
Jenna stood and thanked him.
At her desk, she opened the drawer and pulled out her resignation letter. Taking a deep breath, she tore it into tiny pieces.
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