This is a work of fiction.
Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All characters are over 18 years of age.
There is no graphic sex in this story, so if that's what your looking for, sorry to disappoint.
If you like it, please give it five stars.
Thanks for reading.
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The Kiss
I strode through the hallway full of righteous purpose. My satchel swayed on my hip while I swung my lunch bag in my other hand. Her door was on the left. She was almost always in her room before I arrived, and today was no exception. What was different, however, was my intention. Her door was closed, as it usually was before students began arriving. She was on her computer, probably finalizing her lesson plans for the day. Her blond hair hung in loose curls around her angular face. Her full lips were pressed together in concentration as she worked. She looked up when I opened her door and walked up to her desk. It wasn't unusual for me to stop by to say hi first thing in the morning, but this time, I walked around her desk and into her personal space.
"Dan, good morning," she said.
"Good morning, Fallon," I answered, trying to sound as confident as I hoped I looked. I sucked in a deep breath, angled my body toward her, and held out my hand.
She blinked in confusion as she tentatively took my hand and stood. "What's this?"
"Just this," I said as my hand cupped her face and I leaned in pressing my lips to hers. She pulled back, but I followed keeping our lips joined. Her hands came up to my chest as I kissed her more deeply, at first trying to push me away, but then relaxing. I softened the tension in my lips as I moved them against hers, slightly opening mine. My other hand came up and ran my fingers through her hair, caressing her scalp at the top of her neck. Her resistance slipped away as her fingers began gripping my shirt and her mouth opened to allow my tongue to seek out hers. Her breath deepened as we kissed, and my heart jackhammered in my chest.
After a timeless moment, I pulled back, watching her eyes flutter open before gazing into her azure pools. Her cheeks glowed and her lips glistened, and she'd never looked more beautiful. I couldn't help myself and kissed her again before stepping back. She looked at me with a mix of confusion and wonder. "What...what...what was this? What does this mean?"
"It's just something for you to think about. I'll be in my room." And I picked up my lunch bag, which I had dropped when I kissed her, and strode out of her room the same way I walked in, not stopping until I reached my door.
I had been fantasizing about this moment for months. It could have gone so many different ways. I half-expected her to slap me or shove me when I went in for the kiss, but she didn't. She didn't. A smile curled my lips as I tossed my lunch back onto the cabinet. She didn't slap me. That was a good sign.
Of course, she could be in the principal's office right now filling out a sexual harassment complaint, or calling the cops for sexual assault, since touching her technically counts as assault. I knew of these possibilities before I made up my mind to kiss her. I realized I was putting my career on the line. I realized my future was at risk. Somethings, however, require bold action and risk.
I had been single for four years since my ex decided she had milked enough money from me to pay off her loans, and she could trade up. I married her because I had tired of the dating scene. At my age at that time, going through the 'get to know you' phase of a relationship was tiresome, especially when "getting to know" someone revealed they were only looking for someone with a stable job to save them from debt, or perhaps looking for someone to be a daddy for their kids. At least some of the younger women on dating sites were upfront with their desire to find a sugar daddy, and I could immediately swipe left on those. I thought I found someone who wanted me for me. I was wrong.
My ex and I split just before our tenth anniversary, which coincidentally was six months after I paid off her student loan and had almost paid off her last credit card. This meant I hadn't dated in 14 years, and my thoughts on the matter hadn't changed much since I got married, other than to strengthen my resolve not to be a sugar daddy, no matter how hot she was.
I teach business technology and personal finance at a non-traditional high school. Most of the faculty were not romantic possibilities, since they were either in their sixties or married. I swore I would never get involved with a married woman again. I made that mistake once, and once was enough. It was fine, though, since I had convinced myself that dating was unnecessary. Until Fallon joined the faculty.
She was younger than I, but older than some of the other teachers. She carried herself with confidence, and didn't take any guff from our students, which is one of the challenges with our demographic. She had more experience and it showed in the way she talked and taught. The fact that she was beautiful was also a big factor in my infatuation. The best part was that she was not wearing a wedding ring. That facet faded when she revealed during conversation that she did have a boyfriend. They were not living together or engaged, however, despite having been "together" for more than two years. In my mind, if you haven't discussed marriage after two years of dating, then there is something fundamentally wrong with the relationship. At least that's how I rationalized my feelings for her. She would often say that she preferred having her own space and didn't want to remarry, especially after her first marriage ended badly.
I spent as much time at lunch with her as I could. Engaged her in conversations at every opportunity. Friended her on social media. I even bought her a gift for her beloved dog. After trying to worm my way into her affections, however, I was pretty solidly ensconced in the dreaded friend zone and remained that way for a full year. Every day I spent near her only served to aggravate my longing. I thought of her often. When she walked by my room, my eyes followed her every step. When we had lunch together, I hung on her every word. I committed every detail of her face to memory. I could draw her portrait blindfolded in a darkened room. I recognized the sound of her heels on the floor. I tried often to break out of the friend zone, but she seemed oblivious to my affection and never gave me any sign that she was interested.
I waited for what I assumed was the inevitable breakup of her relationship, so I could be the one she turned to. I could show her the depth of my feelings for her, and she would see that living alone was not the best way to live. In my mind, she would come to me, realizing the depth of her affection for me, and we would meet in a simmering kiss boiling with passion. Her lips would taste like raspberries and slide over mine in a dance of heat and moisture that would inflame our lust. She would tug and pull my shirt until her hands found my naked skin. Her touch would leave burn marks as she ran her hands across my body. Then she would break our kiss, eyes afire with desire as she ripped her blouse, sending the buttons flying. Her bra-encased breasts would heave with each deep breath as she pushed her skirt over flared hips, baring muscular naked thighs, shiny with excitement.
"Dan?"
I blinked as I was pulled from my fantasy and looked up to see Gary, the principal leaning into my doorway. Panic rose in my throat and I thought I might throw up. Fallon reported me! I was toast. Worse, I was wrong about her. I misread her entirely. In my mind I began a packing list so I wouldn't forget anything when they booted me.
"Did you submit your grade data yet? Brenda is compiling the pass-fail report for the quarter and she can't find yours."
