by Alana Church
Instantly Stacie caught her girlfriend in her arms, spinning her around. Their shoes made faint squeaks on the gym floor in the darkness.
“Man, that was awesome! The way he smacked her down! And you played great, baby! Twenty-two assists? That's ridiculous for your first game as a starter.”
Tabitha smiled and ducked her head as they walked back into the locker room. “I had a lot of help. You played great, too.”
“Thanks, baby.” Stacie's hands changed their purpose, sliding over her lover's skin sensuously. “So, where do you want to do it?”
Tabitha knew waiting for Saturday wasn't an option, not tonight. Not after the emotional roller-coaster they had both been on. As they showered after the game, she had felt Stacie's hot eyes on her, seen the hard buds of her nipples as she lathered under the falling spray of hot water.
It had only taken a whisper and a hint to convince Stacie to dawdle while getting dressed, so they were the last ones in the locker room. All the other girls were busy with plans of their own, and after Mr. Glassman had made a cursory check, they had the whole school to themselves.
“We could go to the library,” Tabby said. She clasped Stacie's buns tight in her grasp and drew her close.
“What about Mr. Glassman's office?” the brunette suggested wickedly.
“You horny little tramp,” Tabby said, and Stacie giggled. “That would just tickle your button, wouldn't it? To know your crush is sitting at the same desk where we did the nasty. Sorry,” she continued. “He locked the door. I already checked.”
“Damn,” Stacie said mildly. She looked around the damp, slightly mildewy locker room. “Well, what about here? We can put some towels down...”
“Right,” Tabby said sarcastically. “If we lay down here we're going to get up with athlete's crotch.” Suddenly, her eyes gleamed. “I got it,” she said. “Come with me.”
Holding her lover by the hand, she drew her down the hallways of the school until they were in the social studies section.
“In Mr. Glassman's classroom?” Stacie asked eagerly.
Tabby snorted. “God, no. I don't feel like getting rug-burns on my ass.” Walking past their coach's classroom, she led her two doors down. Stacie gasped.
“Is it unlocked?”
“Only one way to find out,” Tabby said. The doorknob turned easily in her hand. With a grand gesture she bowed her lover into the teacher's lounge.
Stacie turned on the lights. “What a dump,” she exclaimed.
Tabitha couldn't fault her choice of words. In the harsh florescent lights, the room had no redeeming qualities at all. Shabby, mismatched furniture that looked like it had been scavenged from Goodwill ran around the room on three sides. In the middle of the room sat several rickety tables, surrounded by hard metal chairs. Grimacing, Tabby turned off the overhead lights and switched on a lamp by a couch set along the far wall, trying to minimize the stark ugliness of their surroundings.
Stacie poked her nose into the refrigerator. Containers of yogurt and plastic bags full of bagels sat sadly on the grubby plastic shelves. A quick peek into the freezer showed her piles of frozen dinners with the owner's names scribbled on them.
“This is just...sad,” she said.
Tabitha nodded. “Teachers don't get paid much. Never have. But this kind of puts things in perspective, doesn't it? You would think the school could afford decent furniture for the lounge. Good grief,” she said, setting her hand on the back of a wobbly chair. “No wonder most of my teachers eat at their desks. I'm depressed just looking at this.”
“Well,” said Stacie in a sultry voice, “maybe you should look at something else.”
Tabitha turned around, already knowing what she would see. Stacie had slipped out of her t-shirt and bra, and stood waiting for her, nude from the waist up.
Tabby's mouth grew dry with desire. She smiled, blessing her good fortune that her best friend, the girl she had lusted after since they both hit puberty, was also her lover. Walking over to her she laid her hands on Stacie's slim hips, still covered by her blue jeans. At the same time Stacie's arms wrapped around her, pulling her in tight so Tabby's large, cloth-covered breasts brushed against the curving fan of Stacie's ribs.
“Oh, baby,” Tabby sighed. “I love you so much.” She raised her hands to Stacie's shoulders and pulled her down for a kiss, her mouth already opening, welcoming the pleasant invasion of her lover's tongue. As their mouths eagerly mingled, she dropped her hands to Stacie's small, beautiful breasts, fingers and thumbs playing with her rock-hard nipples. Groaning, Stacie let her head fall back, then gasped, her knees buckling, as Tabby bent down and took one of Stacie's nipples into her hot, ravenous mouth.
“I love you too,” Stacie replied, her voice high and panting. Grasping Tabby's hand, she pulled her over to the couch. She popped the button on her jeans and skinned out of them quickly, pulling down her panties at the same time. “I'm naked first,” she said with a happy smile. “I win.”
“Oh, I think I'm the winner here,” Tabby said, looking over her lover with an appreciative eye. Every time they made love, she was more and more astounded that this wonderful person was hers. “You beautiful, lovely woman,” she said fondly, “I thought I was the perverted lesbian around here.”
“Stop that,” Stacie said firmly. She laid strong hands on her lover's shoulders, her face intent. “Don't talk about yourself that way. You're not a lesbo, or a dyke, or any other stupid, ignorant thing anyone calls you. You're you. If you decided tomorrow you weren't bi anymore, I would still love you. You're my best friend and my heart's joy, and I will always love you, do you understand?”
Tabitha sniffled and laid her head against the slim brunette's chest, overcome by the power of the affection in Stacie's voice. “Have I ever told you,” she said unsteadily, “how much I love you?”
“Yes,” Stacie said. “But that doesn't mean I get tired of hearing it. Come on,” she continued, tugging at Tabby's shirt. “We need to get you naked.”
In a few seconds, the smaller redhead was stripped as well. Tabby sighed as Stacie lifted her breasts in her hands, her head bending down so she could lick her nipples. As her loving lips closed around them, she sighed, and slowly moved back, drawing Stacie with her, until the backs of her knees hit the couch.
“How do you want to....” she trailed off.
Stacie looked around the grungy room. “There's no good place to lie down. And the couch is too small to sixty-nine.” She sighed. “I want to get you off, baby. You deserve it after all the craziness this week, and the bullshit you had to put up with tonight before the game. But I'm not going to eat your hoo-ha kneeling on a linoleum floor.”
“How about this?” Tabby suggested. She sat on the back of the high-backed couch, bracing herself on her hands, her knees spread wide. “You can kneel on the cushions, and I'll sit up here, and you can eat me out. And after I get off, I can eat you. But don't worry, baby,” she said, cupping Stacie's cheek as she knelt down and drew close. “Tomorrow, we'll have time to really enjoy ourselves. In a real bed. In my bedroom.”
“Mmmm,” Stacie agreed, already losing herself in Tabitha's scent. She remembered the first time they were together, the night of her sixteenth birthday, and how Tabby had crawled into her sleeping bag. How she had kissed her awake, and how scared her eyes had been, how afraid of rejection.
Silly girl, she thought fondly, leaning in, the musky smell of Tabby's pussy strong in her nose. We've been best friends forever. I love her. She rubbed her cheek on the smooth, firm flesh of Tabby's thigh, enjoying the quiver as her muscles trembled. Turning her head, she kissed her leg, then ran her tongue up towards her crotch in a long, bold sweep. As Stacie approached her lover's inner sheath, she tasted Tabby's dew, the moisture running in thick rivulets over the delicate folds of her pussy. The taste strong on her tongue, she backed up so she could take in the beauty of the fiery redhead's sex.
It's the most beautiful thing, she
thought. The only thing better is a good strong man with a good thick cock, like Mr. Glassman.
Well, he's not here, and Tabby is, so why don't you get to work?
She smiled and bent to her task once more. With clever fingers that were long-acquainted with her lover's body, she eased Tabby's folds open, opening the path for her questing mouth. With the skill of long practice, she ran her tongue up the soaking-wet slit of Tabitha's sex, her lips curling in a satisfied grin as the lovely girl in her arms trembled and bucked under her touch.
“Oh, Stacie, you do it so good,” Tabby moaned.
Unable to reply due to the tongue-lashing she was giving her lover, Stacie increased her efforts. Her knowing tongue danced effortlessly through Tabby's folds. Her hands stroked Tabby's hips, her sides, and ran up her chest to her breasts, gathering the pale, turgid nipples into her clever fingers. Pursing her lips, she drew Tabby's clit into her mouth, her lips sucking gently, while the tip of her tongue stroked it affectionately.
Above her, Tabby moaned loudly and Stacie smiled in anticipation. The volume of Stacie's orgasms had shocked her at first, but now she looked forward to them, even if it meant that they had to be sure no one was around when they made love, as her unmuffled shrieks as she approached climax would surely terrify anyone in the same house with them.
As her arousal increased, Tabby spread her legs wider, and her hips and pelvis slowly began to rock, grinding her pubis softly into Stacie's loving mouth. She moved Stacie's hands back to her hips and let her head rest against the cinder-block wall, her own hands cradling her breasts, her thumbs and forefingers rolling her nipples, stretching them out lewdly. The sensation fed the churning roil of lust in her belly, increasing her pleasure.
Recognizing the signs of Tabby's impending orgasm, Stacie switched tactics. Bracing herself on her right arm, she made the ring finger of her left hand hard and rigid, then eased it into her lover's silky sheath. Ignoring the high-pitched scream that tore from Tabby's mouth, she covered her clit with her lips, lashing the sensitive button with her tongue. Tabby bucked under her touch, her groin thrusting mindlessly against her probing finger as it slowly pumped into her, mimicking the motions of a hard cock. Glancing up through her lashes and the falling tendrils of her hair, she watched as Tabby's head lolled bonelessly against the wall, her hands kneading her flushed breasts, skin shining with sweat in the glow from the lamp.
Any second now, she thought smugly to herself. She never lasts long once I've got my finger in her hot little vag.
Her prediction was correct. Only inches from her eyes, she could see when the tense muscles of Tabby's belly spasmed, the first precursor to her climax. As her finger probed inside her, it was caught in a vise-like grip. Tabby wrapped her legs around her, her thighs clenching hard around Stacie's ears as she suckled on her lover's clitoris.
“Oh, honey,” Tabby gasped. “I'm so close. So close. So....coming. Coming. Coming!!” she screamed, then her words were lost in a series of high-pitched shouts as she shook in Stacie's arms, her body trembling as a mighty series of spasms broke over her.
And at that very moment the door to the lounge slammed open, revealing Mr. Glassman standing in the doorway, white-faced and terrified.
*****
Alan had reached his home, a small rented house near the school, and had even cracked a beer when he realized he had left a pile of quizzes for his freshman civics class in his office. He had intended to grade them during his free period that afternoon, but had instead entertained himself with hopeless fantasies about Stacie and Tabitha. Those few dazzling seconds when they had touched him the previous day were seared into his memory, and he did not know if he would ever be free of them.
God, you're pathetic, he taunted himself, as he drove back to the school to pick up the quizzes so he could grade them at home. This is your Friday night. A high-school volleyball game, a pile of homework to grade, a six-pack of Miller Lite, and fantasizing about a couple of high-school girls. He sighed as he pulled into the parking lot. He knew teaching was never going to make him rich and famous, but he hoped he wouldn't be a burned-out basket case by the time he was thirty.
It's not too late, you know. You're only twenty-five. You have plenty of time to change careers.
No. This is what I want to do. I'm just coming down from the high of winning the game. He frowned as he saw a car in the student lot. Had someone left their car here?
Engine trouble, probably. The way some of these kids abuse their cars as soon as they get behind the wheel, it's surprising we don't see more of them broken down every day.
He parked close to the school, keys already out as he approached. As he unlocked the doors, he cocked his head inquisitively. Was he imagining things, or had he heard a scream?
Moving quickly, he pulled open the door and stepped inside. Within seconds, another scream met his ears; a woman's, high-pitched and desperate.
What the hell? Blood pounded in Alan's ears, and his hands curled into fists. He had been certain no one was in the school when he left. But somehow someone had gotten in, and now it sounded as if some poor woman was being attacked.
He never remembered that frantic race down the halls. As he tracked the sounds to the teachers lounge, the cries grew more and more terrible, until he threw open the door and saw what waited within.
Two young girls, both naked, looked at him with surprise so great it would have been hilarious if he hadn't been certain rape or worse hadn't been going on.
He ran a shaking hand through his hair. “Tabitha. Stacie. Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell are you doing here?”
Tabby slipped off the back of the couch, her legs curled up into her chest, trying to hide her nudity. Beside her, Stacie held an arm across her breasts, the other covering her groin. Even in his state of stunned disbelief, Alan noted how Stacie tried to protect her lover, keeping her body between Tabby and Alan's eyes.
Tabby stammered, then found her voice. “We-”
“No,” Alan said. Trying to preserve the girls' modesty, he turned away, his back to the room. “It's pretty obvious what you were doing,” he said, his voice shaking from stress and adrenaline. “We'll talk about why on Monday. But you're on campus after school hours, and you have to leave. Get dressed and go home. I'll be in my classroom. Make sure you let me know when you are about to go so I can lock up.”
As the door closed softly behind him, the girls turned horrified faces to each other.
“What do we do?” Stacie asked. Though the words were barely whispered, they had the feel of a tortured wail.
“We get dressed,” Tabitha said grimly, trying to ignore her lover's grief-stricken face. She picked up her panties and slid her legs into them. For once, the exquisite aftermath of a massive orgasm held no pleasure for her. She glared at the blameless door.
“Damn it all to hell,” she whispered.
*****
Five minutes later, a timid knock sounded at the door of his classroom. Alan looked up, his features an expressionless mask.
“Yes?”
“We're leaving now, Mr. Glassman,” Stacie said quietly. “And we're really sorry. We didn't mean-”
Alan held up a hand, interrupting her. “Like I said, Stacie, we'll talk about it later. I don't think this is the right time, do you?”
She shook her head quickly and he stood up, sliding the civics quizzes into a binder. Turning off the lights, he closed the door, and followed the girls down the hall towards the exit, trying very hard to keep his eyes off the pair of sexy asses swaying in front of him.
Though you've seen a lot more than that tonight, haven't you?
The girls waited as he locked the doors. For an instant he thought about saying something, then decided against it. Better to wait until I know what I'm going to say, he thought with bitter amusement.
“I'll see you on Monday, girls,” he said, and walked away, unaware of their bewildered expressions as they stared after him.
&nb
sp; *****
“We blew it, Tabby,” Stacie moaned. They were sitting on the hood of Tabby's car at her house. Tabby's parents were inside. Stacie had called her mother and let her know they had won the game and she would be home soon.
Somehow, the fact their coach, who was also their history teacher, had caught them making love in the teacher's lounge had not come up in the conversation.
“We are so, so fucked,” she continued miserably. “God, he could have us suspended. Expelled. We broke so many rules I don't think there's a word for how much trouble we're in.” Inside her jeans her phone vibrated, but she ignored it.
“Relax, baby,” Tabby said, though she was far from confident herself. “I don't think he was mad at us. Did you see his face? He was scared someone was being hurt, and he wanted to help. And when he saw us,” she giggled, still reliving that horrifying moment, which was beginning to seem a lot funnier in retrospect, “he was embarrassed. Poor man,” she said wickedly, the memory stirring up a delightful craving deep within her. “To burst in like that, ready to protect the defenseless maiden, and to see us instead?” She snickered. “Besides, it could have been worse. He could have called 911.”
