by Archer, Kiki
“He’s been here for seven years, Dorothy.” Ellen paused and turned to Susan. “I’m sorry. Could you give us a minute, please?”
Susan nodded and stood from her chair, walking out of the office and closing the heavy door behind her. She waited in the corridor, listening as best she could, even though she had a fair idea of how the conversation inside might go. Ellen Cavanagh had been a wonderful addition to the school following the sudden death of Principal Jackson last year. Yes, she’d had a hard act to follow, but for the most part she was excelling. The staff and students were showing her respect, and she’d already got the parents on board with her mix of new initiatives that supplemented the old school traditions. Yes, thought Susan, Ellen was getting it right, even when it came to old Dorothy Brown. Everybody knew that Dorothy had applied for the job as principal, only to be offered her retirement instead. She was a patron of St Wilfred’s and was finding it hard to grasp the idea of life without the institution, hence her new boss’s delicate handling of her somewhat erratic behaviour.
Susan stepped away from the door as it opened with a creak. “Shall I come back in?”
Ellen smiled. “Yes, sorry.” She lowered her voice. “Dorothy will be taking charge on this one, but please don’t feel pressured into her way of thinking. We need facts, not opinions.”
“PLEASE ENTER,” shouted Dorothy.
Susan stepped back into the office, noticing the old woman’s red cheeks and sweaty brow, possibly the result of the firm but fair dressing down by her younger, much calmer, boss. “How can I help, Vice Principal Brown?”
Dorothy lifted her piece of paper off the desk and squinted at the hand written letter. “Can you please tell me how on earth Eugenie Rohampton managed to see, and I quote, Professor Ramsbottom’s ginger bum pubes?”
“Pardon?”
“On your ski trip. I have a letter here from Mr Rohampton, who might I add is a huge benefactor here at St Wilfred’s. He says,” she paused to pull the piece of paper even closer, “my daughter thoroughly enjoyed the school ski trip organised by the very wonderful Madam Quinn, but I’m concerned that her highlight seems to be the public viewing of Professor Ramsbottom’s ginger bum pubes.”
Susan spoke quietly. “Is there humour in his tone?”
“Would you be laughing if your daughter attended one of the country’s top fee-paying all-girls schools and was exposed to such horrors?”
Susan swallowed. “Does he go on to make a complaint?”
“The official parental complaint isn’t from Mr Rohampton, but he’s drawn yet another misdemeanour to our attention. It needs to be investigated, as do a number of other issues that I’m not willing to disclose at this time. I’ve been keeping a record on that man ever since he tried, unsuccessfully might I add, to show me up in assembly back in 2008.” Dorothy Brown shook her head at the memory. “What I need from you, Madam Quinn, is a clear and concise written account of Professor Ramsbottom’s behaviour on your trip.”
Ellen Cavanagh turned to Susan and smiled. “But as Mr Rohampton said, the trip was a huge success and we’re very grateful for all of your hard work.”
Dorothy Brown mumbled. “Yes, that too.”
Chapter Six
Susan was lying on her bed staring at the ceiling. It was 9.00 p.m. and she could hear the resident housemistress blowing her whistle, no doubt trying to regain order on a typical Saturday night where the girls would push boundaries and try to stay up later than allowed. Susan’s single-room apartment was in the centre of the staff living quarters, and was far enough away from the dorms for her to feel her freedom, but close enough for her to offer assistance when needed. It wasn’t in her remit to help out in the evenings, the school employed four live-in housemistresses and a head of boarding for that, but sometimes she did find herself coming to the rescue when drama or emotion took over. Not tonight though, she thought, checking her clock once more. She sighed, finding it hard to believe that Jenna had woken up beside her, but was now more than a thousand miles away. Her stomach lunged as she relived their morning of passion. Both had known it would be a while before they’d enjoy each other again, and this had added an intensely emotional element to their love making, seemingly impossible given that every encounter of theirs was already highly charged. Susan closed her eyes and remembered, suddenly jumping at the sound of her phone. She blinked quickly and looked at the screen. Jenna’s photo was smiling out at her and the text was telling her that: Jenna James would like to FaceTime. Susan looked at the two buttons at the bottom: one red with a line through the video camera and the word decline, one green with a video camera, no line, and the word accept. She clicked on the green accept button and brought the phone up to her ear.
“Hello.”
“Susan? Hi! Can you see me?”
Susan instinctively glanced around the room. “No.”
“It’s FaceTime, Susan. You should be able to see me. You’ve not got the phone to your ear have you?”
Susan sheepishly adjusted her position, spotting Jenna smiling and waving. “Jenna! Wow! Hi! How are you? This is weird. I feel embarrassed.”
“Stop it, Susan! You must have done FaceTime before?”
Susan shook her head, trying not to focus on the small moving image of herself in the bottom right hand corner of the phone. “Am I big on your screen?”
“Yes,” said Jenna, “and I can see you checking yourself out. Try and look into the camera if you can.”
Susan lifted her eyes and looked at Jenna who was staring straight at her, smiling and displaying her gorgeous dimple and big brown eyes in all their glory. “You look beautiful, Jenna.”
“That’s kind because I feel totally shattered.”
“How was your flight?” asked Susan, unable to resist the temptation of a quick glance down at herself again.
Jenna waited for Susan to finish straightening her hair. “You look gorgeous, Susan, and just so you know, I’m hoping to see you far more dishevelled than this at some point on FaceTime in the not too distant future.”
“Is it safe?” asked Susan.
“What?”
“FaceTime. Is it safe? Could people be watching us right now?”
Jenna laughed. “No, of course not. Who would want to anyway?”
“What if the girls in the dorms had their Wi-Fi or Bluetooth on? Could they log in and watch this?”
Jenna pulled down her grey v-neck jumper and popped a boob out of her bra. “No,” she said, “we’re perfectly safe.”
“Jenna!”
“What?”
Susan lowered her voice. “You can’t sit there and talk to me with your boob hanging out!”
Jenna nodded. “Actually, you’re right. Give me a second.”
Susan watched as the image on the screen did a 90 degree flip, giving her a momentary view of Jenna’s ceiling. “Can you still hear me?” she shouted, “how was the flight?”
Jenna appeared back on the screen. “There’s no need to shout, Susan, I’m still here.”
Susan gasped at the image of Jenna, completely naked on her top half. “Jenna!”
“What? I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” said Susan, her eyes drawn to Jenna’s firm stomach and pert breasts. “Is it cold?” she asked with the trace of a smile.
Jenna slowly ran a finger across her collarbone and down her chest, lightly flicking her hard nipple as she continued the route down to her stomach. “No, I’m just turned on.”
“Jenna!”
“What, Susan? I spent the whole journey replaying what we got up to this morning.”
Susan felt her stomach lunge again. “Actually, I was thinking the same thing when you called.”
“And?”
“And what?”
Jenna stared directly into the camera. “Did it turn you on?”
Susan felt the butterflies of anticipation flutter across her chest. “Yes. Thinking about you always turns me on.”
“What in particular?”
&n
bsp; Susan glanced around her room. “Can you walk and talk for a minute? I need to close the curtains.”
“Ooo, I like the sound of this,” said Jenna, re-adjusting her own position.
Susan held the phone at arm’s length as she hopped off her bed and walked towards her open-plan kitchen. Her apartment was small and basic, but had everything she needed, and over time she’d managed to make the space feel very personal, and incredibly homely. The room wasn’t quite themed but there was a definite influence from the two summers she’d spent in Morocco. The walls were a warm cinnamon red, accessorised with a couple of brightly coloured throws and intricately patterned canvases. Her favourite thing though was the dark brown Moroccan pendant lamp she’d shipped over, which added its own intricate design of light and shade to the richly coloured walls.
Susan had a double bed covered by another bright throw, and an old-fashioned wardrobe and chest of drawers, slightly hidden by the apartment’s L-shaped layout. There was a basic kitchen in the centre of the main area with two stools and a tall countertop, where she did most of her eating, and marking. The living space was next to the window and it consisted of a sofa, coffee table and small TV.
Susan glanced at her phone as she passed the counter and knelt on the sofa, pulling the curtains closed with one hand. “What are you doing?” she asked, seeing Jenna moving around on the screen.
“Getting myself comfortable.”
“For what?”
Jenna was smiling. “You know what, now go and make sure your door’s locked.”
Susan turned back around and headed for the door, already sure that the latch was on. She dimmed the lights and made her way back to her bed. “Do I have to hold this phone up the whole time?”
“No,” said Jenna, “you’ll need both of your hands.”
Susan felt a surge of anticipation. “Where shall I put it?”
“Stand it up on the chest of drawers next to your bed.”
“My cabinet?”
“No, the chest of drawers I fucked you against this morning.”
“Jenna!”
“What? I did. Rest the phone on there. I want to talk to you properly.”
Susan smiled. “Good, I’m glad we’re talking. Tell me about your journey.”
Jenna propped herself onto an elbow. “It was fine. Good flight. Good transfer. But I missed you.”
Susan made one final adjustment to her phone’s position and climbed onto the bed, checking the small box in the corner to make sure Jenna would be able to see exactly what she wanted to see. “Is this okay?”
“It’s perfect,” said Jenna. “Now take off your top.”
Susan swallowed. “You’re sure it’s safe?”
“Positive. I want to see you.”
Susan slowly undid the top button of her shirt. “How much do you want to see?”
“Do you have any idea how sexy you are, Madam Quinn?”
Susan undid another button, pulling the shirt wider. “You make me feel sexy.”
“You are. Look at you. Take it off completely.”
Susan did as instructed, propping herself up against her pillow and displaying her lacy black bra. “I wish you were here, Jenna.”
“So do I, but I’m not, so I’ll have to give you the next best thing.”
“And what’s that?” asked Susan.
“I want you to come for me.”
“On my own?”
“No, I’m going to talk to you. I’m going to tell you what I’d do to you if I was there, and I just want you to close your eyes and enjoy the moment.”
“You’re sure it’s safe?”
“I promise you it’s safe. Just close your eyes and relax. Imagine it’s me lying on the bed next to you. Imagine my breasts pressing into the side of your body. Feel my nipples hard against yours.”
Susan closed her eyes and moaned, remembering the way their bodies seemed to fit together perfectly. “I love your nipples, Jenna.”
“Good, because I’m touching them, right now, for you.”
Susan opened her eyes and looked at the screen. Jenna was lying on her back with her nipples between her fingers. Susan gasped. “Squeeze them for me.”
Jenna looked at the screen and smiled. “You’re meant to be relaxing.”
“But you’re so hot. You’re turning me on. How am I meant to relax knowing you’re lying there doing that?”
Jenna pulled on her nipples and started to moan. “If you were here I’d ask for it hard and fast.”
Susan moved closer to the screen. “Touch yourself for me.”
“I will, but I’m going to touch myself as I talk to you. We’ll come together.” She smiled at Susan. “Lie down. I’m going to describe exactly what I want to do to your body.”
Susan groaned. She loved everything Jenna did to her body. Jenna was so confident in bed, and so adventurous in her demands that nothing was ever repetitive or habitual. Every single encounter had been wonderfully unique. Susan closed her eyes, excitedly anticipating this latest innovative experience. “Okay, what do you want me to do?”
“Hang on, before we start, how was the rest of your day?” Jenna was smiling. “Sorry I haven’t asked you yet. That was really rude of me.”
Susan lifted herself back off the bed. “It wasn’t as exciting as this is going to be. Come on, I’m ready. What do you want me to do?”
“Okay, lie back down.”
Susan popped her head back up. “Ooo, but remind me to talk about Daisy Button and Marcus.”
“What about Daisy Button and Marcus?”
“I’ll tell you afterwards. Come on. I’m ready.”
Jenna laughed. “Okay. Here goes. Close your eyes.”
“They’re closed.”
“And just listen.”
“I’m listening.” Susan smiled.
“Susan, you have to take this seriously.”
“I am!” said Susan. “Come on, I want to see if you’re as good as you think you are.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Susan sat back up. “You’re a thousand miles away. It’s hardly going to feel the same is it.”
“Right, lady, lie down.”
Susan giggled. “I love it when you’re firm.”
“Do you now?” asked Jenna.
“Mmm hmm.”
“Okay then. Imagine this.” Jenna lowered her voice. “We’re living together—”
“Since when?”
“Just go with it!”
Susan snuggled down into the bed. “Okay, we’re living together.”
“You’ve spent the day teasing me on the text and being cheeky, just like you’re being cheeky now.”
“Okay.”
“Shh!” said Jenna
“Sorry.”
“So, I send you a message. Telling you to be prepared for when I get home.” Jenna paused, waiting for the smart remark, but when it didn’t come she carried on. “So, I tell you I’m going to take you, the minute I walk through the door.”
Susan moaned. “Mmm.”
“You like that don’t you. The idea of me taking control.”
Susan moaned again.
“I tell you I want you waiting naked on the bed. Exactly like you are now.”
“I’ve still got my trousers on.”
“Well take them off,” said Jenna. “I need you naked.”
Susan hastily unbuttoned her jeans and kicked them off at the ankle.
“Bra, pants, and socks too. Don’t forget I can see you, Susan.”
Susan pulled off her underwear and threw it to the floor. She glanced at her phone, suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable. “Can you see everything?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Jenna, “and that’s exactly how I’d need you to be. Naked and waiting.”
“So,” said Susan, “I’m naked and waiting. Now what?”
“Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve just walked into the room and I’ve taken off my silk
scarf. I’ve tied it tightly around your eyes.”
“Ooo, the nice one with the butterflies?”
“Susan! Please!”
“Sorry.”
“So, you’re on the bed, naked, blindfolded, and I tell you not to talk. I tell you to listen.” Jenna paused, pleased with the silence. “Imagine I’m wearing that pale blue denim shirt you love.”
“With those black Gap jeans?”
“Yes, whatever, it doesn’t matter. Anyway, you’re listening and you hear me slowly unbuttoning my shirt, one button at a time.”
Susan giggled.
“What?!”
“Is there any other way to unbutton a shirt?”
“I don’t know, but I’m doing it slowly and sexily.” She paused. Susan was quiet. “You can hear the zip on my jeans slowly opening all of the way. The clip of my bra as my breasts fall free. The sound of my knickers rolling down my thighs.”
“That would be silent.”
“Susan!”
“What?”
“Right, that’s it,” said Jenna. “You know what I’d really do if I was there right now? I’d take that scarf off your eyes and pull your arms behind your back. I’d tie you at the wrist and I’d drag your body to the end of the bed, dropping you onto your knees on the floor. I’d push on your back so you were face first in the mattress, your arse pointing at me.”
“Ooo, I like this.”
“Yeah? Well guess what? You’d think you were about to get fucked. You’d think I was about to come behind you and plunge my fingers deep inside you. You’d think I was about to press my nipples into your back, forcing you down on the bed as I rammed harder into you, fucking your clit and bringing you close to orgasm.”
“Mmm, Jenna.”
“But I wouldn’t. I’d step over your head instead, sitting myself down on the bed right in front of your face. Your hands would be tied so you wouldn’t be able to touch me. You’d just see me. I’d be naked. You’d see my wetness. You’d look up and see me playing with my nipples. You’d try and stand, but I’d wrap my legs around your back, pinning you down into position with my heels.”
