As always, this is a work of fiction and the characters are imaginary, existing only within the confines of the story and my imagination. It is intended for the enjoyment of my audience and should not be copied or distributed, in whole or in part, without the author's permission. A special thank you to my proofreader for his patient work.
Back to my Alma Mater
It was both familiar and different driving down the road to my old high school to see Mrs. Matheson again. She had been my favorite teacher in High School, both as an English teacher and as the director of the school plays for the last two years of school. After graduating eight years ago, I had joined the Navy. I did stay in touch with her through letters and tried to visit every time I came home for leave.
As the deployment schedule with the Navy's Special Boat unit ramped up in support of various special operations missions around the world, I had only managed one visit in the last three years. As a high speed craft driver (coxswain in Navy-talk) and instructor, I had been very busy both for deployed operations and back at home port in training new operators. My outstanding performance had gotten me promoted to E-6 much sooner than my peers but the constant stress had made me decide to leave the military.
Since my parents had moved away from here, I had no relatives in my hometown anymore, so I found a cheap apartment and arranged for the rest of my personal effects to be shipped there. Putting off the job search for a couple of days, I decided visiting Mrs. Matheson was very important to me. Of course, part of my motivation was the crush I had on her back in school. Although only 5' 6", she walked into a room with such presence and personality that she did dominate the room always. With short dark hair and dark eyes, her big smile always dominated her oval face. It had always been a struggle to figure out her body though; she wore long sleeved blouses or sweaters and ankle length skirts, but through careful observation I had been able to see she was small breasted but had a nice flared waist and very strong, solid legs. She had a sultry allure that I doubt most of my classmates ever noticed. This was also the first time I had been able to visit her since right after her husband died in a car wreck three years ago.
Arriving at the school, I parked my pick-up truck in a visitor space and walked in to the school office to check in as a visitor. The receptionist remembered me from the visits I had made over the last few years and contacted Mrs. Matheson to come down and escort me. Mrs. Matheson floated into the room with her usual flair, and I could not help but smile as she moved towards me to wrap me in her arms. As I returned the hug I noticed that her hair was graying, but she felt as light and slender as I remembered.
"I'm so happy to see you," she said excitedly. "I have one more class today and then we can talk before drama." With that, she dragged me off down the hall to her next class. It was after sitting through her next class that she had time to explain to me about her next show. They were doing "Pippin" and, although she had a very talented cast, she had no one interested in lighting or sound this year. Margaret, as she insisted I call her now, all but begged me to volunteer to take up technical design and direction for the show. I was very willing and after class she brought me back to the office to get me signed up for regular access to the school.
A Surprise Meeting
One week later and the background checks were complete. This is how I found myself sitting in the auditorium as the cast worked through some of the scenes from the show. The school had purchased a new control system for the lights, but everything else was almost unchanged from when I had attended the school. I was sitting quietly when suddenly a pair of soft hands covered my eyes. I smelled a flowery perfume and felt her breath on my ear as she whispered to me.
"Guess who!" Oh crap! I had no idea. Her hands were too soft and her voice too young for any of the teachers I was close to. I didn't know any of the students so who could this be?
"You smell nice, whoever you are," I said neutrally. "But I can't tell."
"Doug!" she said as she removed her hands and gave me a hug. I turned and realized it was Margaret's daughter Jackie. I pushed her back to get a good look at her. When I joined the Navy she was only twelve, and last time I saw her she was fifteen and just started developing a more feminine figure. At 20, she now had an incredible figure at five foot four inches and wearing a tight white tee shirt with a burgundy muscle shirt overtop and a tight fitting pair of jeans. The blond curly hair cascaded down to her broad shoulders, shoulders developed through of years of club-level competitive swimming. Her muscular build also gave even more prominence to her very full breasts. Her body quickly narrowed to a flat stomach and narrow waist. Her hips were not too prominent but her butt was small, firm and muscular, topping nicely proportioned legs.
To explain, she looked nothing like her mom. Jackie was adopted at a very young age. I think it had something to do with Margaret and her husband not being able to have kids but I never asked because it was not important. Jackie and her brother were both wonderful kids and I had spent quite a bit of time at their house when I was in high school.
Jackie plopped herself down in the seat next to me and we start talking. Margaret's car was broken down and although she could ride to school with another teacher, she needed a ride home, which was why Jackie was here. She was obviously very excited to see me again. Once we did a little bit of current events on catching up, I found out why she was so happy to see me. Although I did not realize it back then, the time I spent with her family when I was in high school made a big impression on her. Apparently I did not dismiss her as a little kid even though she was six year younger than me (forever when you are in high school). Instead, I talked to her then like a friend and listened to her when she talked about her interests back then.
The conversation between us got a bit loud and I noticed we get a couple of "quiet down" looks from Margaret. Not wanting to stop the conversation, I lead Jackie out the right side of the auditorium. The left side doors led to the music hall, with rehearsal rooms and teacher offices. The left side led to a storage hallway that was gated at the end so students do not normally access it. This is where they could store the band risers, large set pieces, and even some spare lunch tables for the cafeteria just yards down the hall.
Once we walk out the door, Jackie moves right up into my space. Suddenly she is leaning against me and moves her face right up to mine, obviously expecting a kiss. I'm not real sure where this is going but I lean forward and our lips meet. As soon as our lips make contact, her mouth opens and her tongue is in my mouth while her hand is behind my neck pulling my face against hers. I'm not real sure what signals I missed but we are instantly in a major French kiss that would excite an 80-year-old. I do not know who she learned this kissing from, but wow. The desire she communicates in this kiss shocks me to my toes. It also creates a growing problem in my pants, which she is pressing against.
Now it has been a couple of months since my last relationship and "Rosy Palm" does not satisfy the way a real woman does, but this was unexpected. As her hand rubs my crotch I am thinking what do I do now? Glancing around the stacked stuff in the hallway, I look through the folded tables, stacked chairs, stage platforms, and traveling band cases for somewhere to hide from view. My eyes catch sight of the marching band uniform closets, two ten-foot long closets with vinyl accordion doors used to store the uniforms once football season is over. I am not sure where this is going but I know I need to get us out of sight before it goes too far.
I break contact and quickly lead her over to one. Looking up the hall past the gate, I do not see anyone looking as I slide open the closet door and slip in, pulling Jackie in behind me. She starts to attach herself to me again but I pull back for a moment.
"Jackie," I whisper. "What is all this?" She stopped and looked up at me, her eyes quickly shifting from surprise, to fear to hurt.
"I thought...I guess..." She sobbed once then spoke shakily. "I love you. I thought you knew. Didn't you read the letters?" She had written me a number of times. The letters always were signed with 'can't wait to see you soon, Love Jackie.' But I did not register that as really "Love" and she did. Now I felt like an ass. I guess I had been thinking of her as a little sister, but now she was more than that. She was a sexy woman that wanted me. The look in her eyes changed my heart in an instant and I wanted her too.
I reached out and embraced her in the darkness, and this time when our mouth met our hands could not be stopped as well. Her hands squeezed my butt as she pressed her warm crotch against my hard cock. This was out of control in an instant, our surroundings forgotten. Kissing each other now on the face and neck as we pressed our bodies together...it continued for several minutes with the sound of our passionate breathing loud in that confined space.
