I walked through the bright hallways as quickly as I could without running. The grey lockers lining either side had an abandoned quality in the after school hours. There were some kids sitting on a picnic table in the little quad area at the center of the school and I could hear the coach's distant whistle out on the football field. I jerked open the door to my daughter's chemistry classroom and was relieved to find she was still there. I was over an hour late after all.
"I'm so sorry I'm late," I said, setting my briefcase down.
"Did you forget again?" Abby asked irritably. She didn't even bother looking up from her Iphone. The one her mother said we would get her "for emergencies." I was getting tired of her teenage high school angst routine and being late to pick her up was just going to feed into it. One more petty drama to add to the constant balancing of the family, my own law practice, and a wife that seemed to want to fuck me less with each passing day.
That's when I saw her.
She was sitting at the lab table behind my daughter, her finger placed idly in the enormous organic chemistry text in front of her. She had shoulder length red hair. I could tell how thin and soft it was even from across the room. It framed her creamy skin perfectly, like a porcelain doll.
Her full lips puckered almost imperceptibly as she looked up at me. I tore my eyes away from her piercingly blue ones. I knew I wasn't supposed to look. But I caught her eyes lingering too. A little longer than they should have.
"Dad, this is Marcie. She's my chem partner."
"Nice to meet you, Marcie," I stammered. She smirked at me with heavy lidded eyes.
"Hey," was all she said.
I took the opportunity to size her up a little more. Her thick button up shirt couldn't hide her ample tits underneath. She had a thin unbuttoned blue sweater on over the shirt and, under the table, a knee length plaid skirt and long white socks that accentuated her toned calves. Stop looking!
"We should go, honey. Your mom'll have dinner ready by now."
"I'm not even hungry."
It was like she calculated each response to ensure maximum surliness.
"You can bring Marcie if you want."
I couldn't help myself. Hopefully it wasn't too obvious. Maybe she would think I was just trying to make up for being late. I tried to read Abby's face as she finally looked up from her phone.
"Um, I guess. Marcie you want to—"
"Totally," she said, clapping the textbook shut.
She looked right at me as she said it. Like she knew I had only invited her so I could stare at her sweet young body the entire time. And she didn't seem to mind. If only she was a little older. I promised myself I wouldn't look at her even once on the drive home. It was wrong, I told myself.
***
She sat across from me at the dinner table, where we always put the guest. I kept my eyes on the food in front of me as best I could and just let my wife, Anne, drive the conversation. I figured that was safest. I didn't trust myself.
"So you're a senior too, Marcie?" Anne asked.
"Yeah."
"You guys have any other classes together?"
"Just chem," Marcie said. "I'm so lucky to have Abbie as my partner. I got an F last year. It's the only reason I didn't graduate."
My ears pricked up.
"It makes me feel so dumb, being a year older than all the other kids. I mean, I turned 18 last month. I should be in college already."
Almost unconsciously I looked up at her from my plate as I processed what she had just said. She was staring right at me with that same smirk. She ran the tip of her little pink tongue along her top lip. Her chest rose as she breathed in.
"That doesn't make you dumb, honey," Anne said. "Plenty of people graduate at 18."
"Besides, it doesn't list your age on the diploma," I added.
To my left I glimpsed my daughter rolling her eyes up at the ceiling, but across the table Marcie was still staring right at me. She smiled broadly showing her perfect teeth and supple mouth.
"You guys are so sweet."
She said guys but I could tell she meant it toward me. It was like we were having our own conversation beneath the surface, exploring each other's ever so subtle responses.
"Can I be excused?" Abbie asked abruptly.
"Sure, honey," I said. "Could I have some more of this meatloaf, Anne?" I asked slyly.
"Of course. I'll cut you another slice."
I grinned as my daughter left the table and Anne got up and went into the kitchen. I wanted the chance to ogle Marcy without worrying about being seen. Her ice blue eyes locked with mine. I pictured them looking up at me with my cock deep inside her.
"Come on, Marcie. Let's sit out back for a bit," my daughter called.
Marcie leaned forward as she pushed herself away from the table, watching me the whole time, smiling more lustily than she had the entire evening. She turned to follow my daughter and I stared at the back of her skirt, thirsting for what was inside.
"Hang on," she called. "I've got something in my shoe."
Then she bent over. From the waist. I could see her tiny white panties, failing in their efforts to cover her large, round ass and sweet, succulent cunt lips. She held the pose for so long I probably could have finished right then and there if it was just me and her.
Then she stood and shot a quick look over her shoulder at me. I had craned forward across the table without even knowing, trying to get closer to the smell and warmth of her sweet pussy. I didn't even bother trying to hide it. She smiled and bit her bottom lip. Hard.
"Let me get your plate, Mr. Johnson," she said, coming toward me.
She leaned down in front of me much more than she needed to. Gripping my empty plate with her left hand she looked up to make sure Abby wasn't watching and then put her right hand in my crotch, exploring the head of my rock hard cock through my slacks.
"Take me home later. Please?" she whispered.
