*Comments are, as always, welcome.
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By the time she got back home it was getting darker and Little Lucy prepared herself for the onslaught of questions her grandmother would undoubtedly fire at her. She had never been out so late before in her entire life and she knew such a transgression would be seen as suspicious in that curtain-twitching village. Before she stepped through the front door she once more rearranged her wrinkled dress and pulled her hair into what she hoped was some semblance of order. She opened the door and stepped inside, cautiously.
Inside, it was warm and comfortable as always and her aching legs begged for her soft bed. She tiptoed into the kitchen and laid the basket of flowers on the table before making her way to the stairs. As she placed a foot on the first step she heard her grandmother's voice come from the living room.
"And where have you been, young lady?"
The sternness she detected in her tone was clearly a cover for her concern.
Lucy called to her, "I'm ever so sorry, Grandma. I was out collecting you some flowers and, as it was so hot, I fell asleep under a tree. Before I knew it, I had slept right through."
"I was worried! Young ladies shouldn't be off in the woods on their own; I've told you this a thousand times!"
"I know, I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
Lucy breathed a sigh of relief and made her way up to her room.
Once inside she regarded herself in the mirror on her dresser. A dishevelled mess of a girl looked back. Her makeup had smudged and run down her cheeks, her hair was knotted and in disarray, and her dress was still wet on the back from her earlier exploits. She undid the zip at the back of her dress and, in one fluid movement, pulled it off her body. One glance at her red vagina, sore from the punishment it had received earlier, reminded her of how aroused she still was by all that had happened. The memory of Richard above her, coming over her dress, was enough to make her lie down on her bed and finger herself again.
She spread her legs, still clad in their damp socks, and placed a finger on her clit. She brought herself to a quick orgasm and felt well and truly spent. As she lay there panting she thought back over how he had disappeared. It was so unfair that they had found one another and shared in their mutual fantasies only for them to lose each other again. Doubly so, when she considered that it was he who left for no discernible reason. She resolved to discover exactly why it was so and took herself off for a shower.
Days passed, the summer weeks bled away, and Lucy was no closer to the truth. She had discovered his house and had rung the bell but was devastated when there was no answer day after day. She began to get angry with him. How dare he reveal to her that world and then take it all away? Now that she had experienced such pleasure, she knew that she would never be satisfied with releasing it under the sheets at night. She needed him and she needed his cock. But faced with no response from him she had to give up in the end; his door never opened.
Then came the first day back at college. It was an old-fashioned institution, like everything else in that old-fashioned village, which demanded that all those who progressed to the sixth-form wear the same uniform they had been forced to wear throughout their childhood. There was no relaxing of rules for those seemingly old enough and mature enough to govern themselves. Lucy had not been looking forward to this but had dutifully got up bright and early and dressed in her uniform: short-sleeved white cotton shirt and tie, black pleated skirt, knee-high cotton socks and shiny black shoes. She plaited her hair into the traditional pigtails and grabbed her bag.
The temperature of the summer had begun to drop and the cold breeze gusted between her bare thighs as she walked the path to college. The routine of the college day would only help to drive home the hopeless normality she could no longer cope with.
First, Maths; second, Theatre Studies; boredom drilled itself into her brain. Breaktime gave no relief. Some of the other girls were talking about a new teacher but she ignored them; regular life seemed so dull now. She told no one of her experience that summer afternoon. For one thing she knew they'd never believe her and, also, the extent they had gone to may well repulse them anyway. But it didn't repulse her. For a short time she had felt complete and now her longing was never ending.
The bell rang and period three began. History. She shuffled into the classroom with the others, head down, despondent. Goodness knows why she had picked the subject, perhaps a desperate clutch for something academic, something that might get her away from the village when she came to choose any further education. And then she saw him. Richard was the new teacher, her new teacher.
Her heart leapt into her throat and would remain there for an hour as she regarded the man who had taught her so much now teach History to her class.
He met her eyes once but there didn't seem to be any recognition there, he just carried on as if nothing was amiss. She knew that her wide-eyed stare at him, dressed in the same suit he'd worn that summer day under the trees, would be obvious in its adoration but she couldn't help it. When she answered the register with a tremulous voice she was keenly aware of how nervous she felt.
She glanced at the others as the lesson progressed but they didn't seem to notice her either; she was a ghost, trapped in a vacuum of excitement and confusion. She hoped that they wouldn't have to do any group work because she knew she'd never be able to focus on anything but this revelation.
The lesson ended. The others got up from the hard plastic seats and made their way out of the door but Lucy, intentionally packing her bag slowly, was left behind. Her nerves peaked as the door swung shut and she and her tormentor were left alone at last. She stepped over to him, packing his own things into his bag at his desk.
"Why won't you see me?" she asked and was surprised that her voice, which she had intended to sound defiant and interrogative, came out in a croak of nervous energy.
He stopped filling his bag and sighed. Then he looked up at her and properly regarded her for the first time that lesson. She could tell by the way his eyes widened almost imperceptibly that he felt attracted to her just as strongly as before. Without a conscious thought she began to play with one pigtail, running it between her finger tips, and biting her lip. It was partly nerves, partly a subconscious effort to overcome whatever it was that was restraining him from entering her once more. But the way he quickly knitted his eyebrows and glanced away from her told of his fight against his urges.
"I'm sorry," he said at last.
"Sorry?" The steel at last entered her voice, "How could you just leave after... after all we did together?"
