A B C D E F U

"Fuck you Principal Howard! Is this a joke? You've got to be kidding me! This just can't be real!"

Wow. I said it and I couldn't believe I said it. I didn't just say it - I yelled it at him and everyone on the other side of his closed office door had heard it as well. If any of my 2nd grade students had said the word 'fuck' I would have given them a bad mark for the day or sent them off into a corner for a little break. Had it continued or was said in the context that I had used it, then a visit to Principal Howard's office would have been in order. And yet, here I was, using it in the crudest way possible, standing in the principal's office and saying it to the principal himself.

"Mrs. Adams has a potty mouth! Get some soap and wash it out!" I could imagine my class chanting over and over in unison had they heard me cursing.

"Language, please, Mrs. Adams," Principal Howard whispered as he rushed to close the blinds in his office in the hopes that not seeing our conversation also meant it couldn't be overheard.

Just 18 months before, I had sat in this very same office wearing a discreet gray skirt and a pink blouse with a huge bow, trying to put my best foot forward, as this man perused over my resume and accreditations.

"Hmmmm, Furman University? Graduated at the top of your class. Worked in the South Carolina school system for just 3 years, yet earned numerous awards and recognition from your peers," he said flipping through my paperwork, "Well, it's obvious you'd make a fine addition to our staff here, but I've got to ask you what I ask everyone applying: Why do you want to work here at Tampa Charter?"

I was so nervous. I needed this job. I took a deep breath in to try to keep my nerves about me, but I still remember blurting out a rambling response.

"See, well, it's my husband. No, I mean, it's not exactly him. I didn't think I'd leave the public school system. We talked about it. He didn't make me leave if I didn't want to," I had to stop to compose myself to finish, "I'm sorry, what I want to say is that I enjoyed teaching in South Carolina, but my husband is a personal trainer and I love him. So, when he got his dream job here as manager of FitnessPlus, I didn't think twice on packing up and following. But then Covid hit and now..."

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of my temple and I swallowed hard as I felt that I had tipped my hand and said too much.

Like everyone else, my husband and I hadn't planned on Covid. Florida certainly paid their teachers more than South Carolina, but I hadn't applied for a position in time for the start of the school year. We had a little bit of savings upon moving and made the untimely, and now unfortunate, decision that I should take some time off, organize our home, and enjoy some of the travel spots the state had to offer before going back into the classroom.

Now, Rod was laid off and we were hearing that FitnessPlus was likely going to file for bankruptcy. There was no market for a personal trainer to work at as everyone was either staying home trying to social distance or had went and bought a Peloton.

I really needed this job.

Tampa Charter had healthcare and benefits and paid entry level teachers almost 60k. I only made 42k in South Carolina and would need 15 years of tenure to even dream of making that kind of salary there.

I was happy in the public school system and worked without a care about the income I made, but this disease changed all that. Rod and I were now desperate. That was what I was nervous about and didn't want to let be known during my interview.

Principal Howard scribbled some notes on a pad, straightened the wire rimmed glasses on his bald head, reached out his hand to me and smiled, "Welcome aboard. You're hired. We're family here at Tampa Charter and we take care of our own as such. I think you're going to fit in well and congratulations on your husband's dream employment here. He is now part of our family, too. That's just how we run this school."

Rod never came up to the school, he stayed at home and played Mr. Wife, but I made it no secret after I got the job at TC on our financial situation. Principal Howard knew I was the only bread winner. He knew that in my short time there I had worked hard to be known as one of the top teachers. So fuck no! I gave no apologies for cursing at him after he told me they were now laying me off.

"What happened to all that talk about family," I pleaded, "Was all that for nothing?"

"I know, I know..." he said nervously, wringing his tiny hands together.

"You're about to ruin mine!"

"It's not me, Mrs. Adams, it's the board of directors. I don't want this at all," he said with tears filling his eyes, "You're one of the last to get hired so..."

"So I'm one of the first to let go," I said shaking my head.

He placed his hand on my shoulder and said, "I'm so sorry."

"I just don't understand why?" I sighed.

"Parents have continued taking their kids out of school. We have a drop in tuition. The board feels this protects the school for the long term."

"Funds before family. I got it."

"Mrs. Adams? We're going to hire again after we all get through this. You're a wonderful teacher and I promise you that you'll be the first we call back."

"Thanks, I appreciate that. I know it's not your fault." I said, "But who knows how long this will last. What will I do until then?"

"We have an open board meeting tonight. I'm encouraging all our teachers to attend. This could be our one and only chance to sway the board to change their minds."

I walked somberly back to the teachers break room and saw Jordan Riley sitting by himself with his eyes glassy and red. Jordan had been the art teacher at TC for five years and was one of the nicest persons I'd ever met. He was the first teacher to welcome me to the school and I considered him my best friend there.

"They let you go because of Covid cost cutting, too?" I asked.

He quickly tried gathering himself together as I sat down across from him, but it was clear he had been crying.

"No. They've fired me because I'm gay."

"Gay?"

I said the word almost as if it was a shock to my system or a concept that I had never heard of before. I often would consult Jordan on how to decorate my class to match my study program. To say I was a great teacher and not give him some measure of credit for my success at TC would be foolish. I felt embarrassed at saying 'gay' the way I did because he had never made his sexuality a secret to anyone.

"I knew this was coming. I saw the writing on the wall as soon as the state came up with this 'Don't Say Gay' law. Sure, I was told it was because of cuts, but I know the real reason. I could be fired and you could too," he warned, "For even mentioning I had a partner or was in a same sex relationship."

I didn't know what to say. Jordan was gay and black. I couldn't imagine the amount of discrimination he had faced. Who was I to say that maybe he was wrong about what he thought was the school's reasoning? So I sat and listened as a friend should do.

"Most of my life I've lived by the rules of others. I stayed quiet, hid my creative side, and played sports when I wanted to draw and paint. I thought TC was different and would be a fresh start knowing I was gay. I bought in that to that shit of the staff being like one family."

"Me too!" I nodded.

"Ya know, I used to date women just to try and fit in?" cried Jordan, "I hated being deceitful to them and to myself."

"I, I, I didn't know," I said quietly, "I didn't think it was important to ask you anything regarding that."

"It's ok for you and never questioned that you are born straight but for me it's considered a bad decision that can be reversed. I wish someone would ask the people who tell me that my lifestyle is a choice exactly just how many dicks they sucked or cock they took up their asses before they 'chose' being straight was the best way for them to go."

I was angry and downright vulgar earlier to Principal Howard because I was concerned about me. My mom always said that however big I felt in my britches that someone out there was going to be better than me. She told me that so I could be humble with my success. She also said that there's always someone out in the world who's worse off than me. She told me that so I could be compassionate. I wondered what would my momma say about Jordan?

I reached across the table and laid my hands into his palms and we both started crying.

Later that evening, at the meeting of the board, Jordan and I watched silently from the back of the packed auditorium as our worst fears played out before us.

Chairman Thigbee sweated like a roasted pig and probably lost 25 pounds off his 300 plus frame as teacher after teacher stepped up to complain and beg their hearts out to the 5 regents.

"I want you to take a good look at our staff," Principal Howard said as the final speaker, "These are the faces of the best Florida has to offer. They mold, teach, comfort, and encourage our children. You can't say publicly they are heroes as they put their very lives in front of bullets or viruses and then turn around and treat them like trash. Please, for the love of God, I'm begging you!"

Jordan gave me a hug and asked for me to please keep in touch. He left before they even came back from adjourning. He already knew! Nothing, in the end, swayed Thigbee or any of the other 4 members. They came back with a unanimous 5-0 vote to continue making cuts to the staff.

I returned home and Rod met me at the door with his big open arms. He wanted to know everything that had happened in detail and I spent the next 30 minutes telling him about the meeting, about Jordan, and how I was going to dearly miss everyone of the kids from my class.

"I really feel for your coworkers, especially Jordan," Rod said, "We're going to get through this. We will be ok. This too shall pass."

"I hope so," I sighed, "I hope so."

"And you actually said the word you're never supposed to say in school in school? To the principal?" Rod said beaming, "Laura Adams you're legend!"

"Stop trying to make me laugh. I'm starting to feel regret about the whole thing now."

"We will think of something and you know when we do our best thinking and get our best ideas, right?" Rod smiled standing, shimmying and gyrating his hips.

"Oh god, really? Right now? You can't be serious?!"

"Ladies, you've been waiting for this all night!" Rod stood up with his hands around his mouth, imitating the sound of a warbled and distorted microphone, "Lose yo boyfriends and lose yo husbands! Lose them there panties! But find them dolla, dolla bills, y'all! Get ready to get your Kegel workout on! Because he's here! The personal trainer for your personal needs! That's not only a big rod between his legs, ladies, it's his actual name! Stepping on to center stage! It's Rod 'Yes I'm happy to see you' Adams!"

Rod picked me up in his arms and carried me to our bedroom as I kissed his cheek and unbuttoned his shirt.

"Stress relief?" I asked.

"No. I'm gonna fuck you," he said.

________________

I eased out of bed and placed our blanket over Rod's bare shoulders and grabbed my laptop and sat down at our kitchen table. I normally would sleep comfortably after us sexing, but I felt I didn't have the luxury of wasting any time to find a solution to our unemployment before our bills started coming due.

I looked through the teacher employment sites of all the nearby southern states but saw no position that offered the necessary pay. It looked, from my calculations, that we were going to have to sell one of our cars and that we both needed to take 2 jobs apiece, that paid above minimum wage, just to keep our heads above water.

I went to a teacher Facebook page I had joined and, in a bit of desperation, asked if anyone else was going through the same thing and what they were doing to manage?

I went to the fridge to get a bottle of water and decided I should just go back to bed when I heard an incoming message pop up on my computer.

It was from a woman in Las Vegas who said she had been following a business model that she thought would work perfectly for me.

I was more than curious and immediately typed back, "Hello? I'm here. Could you tell me more?"

"Have you considered sex work?" she asked.

I was instantly offended and ready to block this person and close my laptop when she said that she knew what I was thinking, but asked for me to just take a minute and look at her profile.

I expected to see a Scarlett Johansson type, but instead, on her page was a pleasingly plump, dark haired woman who actually looked the part of schoolmarm that I constantly attempted to dress as.

She then sent me a screenshot of the bottom figure of her savings statement. It was dated from the day before.

"You made all that from fucking?" I typed.

"No!" she replied back with both an angry and kissing emoji, "I made all that doing sex work."

"Well, the amount of money is amazing, but I just don't know if I'm comfortable doing anything sexual or illegal," I said.

She then sent me her number and said, "Call me."

I was skeptical and a little scared. Rod was sound asleep and here I was conversing with someone halfway across the country who could be trying to recruit me into God knows what.

I decided that if I called and it was the voice of a man on the other end then I would hang up and forget that the whole thing ever happened.

I called and was relieved to hear the soft voice of a woman introducing herself as Joanne.

We talked for hours with her giving me a crash course on practically all things sexual. She showed and explained to me online cam sites and she told me how her school district refused to give her a raise which caused her to lose her home.

"This sounds better suited for my husband to make money at. I'm assuming you looked at my profile already. Have you seen how good he looks?"

"I drooled over Channing Tatum like every other woman in America," explained Joanne, "I've still not been inspired enough to step into a strip club. Ask your husband if he's ever been to one? I bet the answer is yes. Women make the money, honey."

"You really think I'm attractive enough to make that kind of money just being naked on camera?" I asked.

"It doesn't necessarily matter how we look as women in this business, there will be a man somewhere willing to pay to see us. And if you are willing to put in just half the effort as most teachers do for teaching, then I think the sky is the limit."

"I'll have to talk to my husband."

"I just wanted to show you different options and possibilities. I think you can make a fine living doing cams, but that's not where the real money is at."

Joanne then proceeded to detail to me exactly how she made her money.

"Um, do you have sex with anyone?" I asked doing my best not to insult her.

"That's the beauty of what I've been telling you. You only do what you want to do. If you advertise intercourse then you will get intercourse," she giggled.

We finally said our goodbyes and I paced the kitchen floor. I couldn't wait for Rod to wake up so I could tell him the conversation I had had with Joanne.

"You, ah, asking me to sign off on you, my wife, having sex with other men?" Rod asked straight faced.

"No!" I replied, "That's the beauty of it..."

_____________________

We followed the business model that Joanne had laid out for us and paid a professional photographer to take pictures of me in a mask and wearing some skimpy outfits showing off my body. We were almost set to go. I just needed to make an ad.

I decided on the name 'Private Sessions'. Rod thought it was descriptive but didn't hint anywhere close to my name. I listed myself as: Your discreet fetish model. Let me teach you a thing or two.

Rod handled all the initial meeting arrangements and made it clear that there would be no sexual penetration.

I was a little bit nervous about placing my ad and didn't know what to expect next. If I was hoping for some sort of grace period to calm myself - it didn't come. I had a customer ready and booked in less than 24 hours.

Deter was a German businessman in town for a trades convention and requested a foot job.

I had a vague idea what that was but wasn't exactly sure. I went online and looked for a video of it just to be certain. I realized then that if I wanted to be as successful at this business venture as I was a teacher, I would have to study on learning things as I did in college.

I nervously stepped out of the hotel bathroom dressed in fully fashioned nylons, red garters, and towering over everything with a pair of 5 inch black heels.

Deter asked me to simply walk and prance around him as he lay on the carpeted floor rubbing his crotch and gawking up and down my legs.

He was slow and patient with his lusting admiration and this allowed my nervousness to ease away. I bent over in front of him and he ran his hand up the seam of my hose and licked the spike of my heels.

"Wunderbar! Wunderbar!" he said repeatedly.

I instructed him to rise and brought one of the chairs in the room closer to the bed and he quickly pulled down his pants to expose a thick cock that could have defined the term 'Coke bottle dick'.

I removed my heels and we sat 3 feet apart across from each other, him on the bed and me in the chair, just staring.

I then did my best Sharon Stone imitation - bringing my legs off the ground, resting my feet on his shoulders, and exposing my pantied covered pussy to him.

I caressed the side of his face with my feet and his eyes fluttered as if he were about to faint. I then placed my foot on his chest and gently pushed until his upper body fell backwards and he laid flat on his back.

I wrapped both my feet around his hard cock and he purred like a baby kitten as the feel of the silky hose tickled the ridges of bulging veins on his dick.

He raised himself up on his elbows and I could see that he was looking at my red, manicured toenails as I began slowly moving my feet up and down his cock.

I was only able to work in 3 strokes before a thick line of white sperm shot up from his dick and into the air. The black hose over my legs was dotted with warm spots of man goo that seeped through the nylon mesh and unto my skin.

90 minutes of so called work and, just like that, we were 1500 dollars richer.

Deter continued thanking me and, as best I could understand, promised he would be back and refer friends to me.

Rod and I were fast learners after that and quickly established an efficient system that worked best for us. He would meet our clients in the lobby of the hotel and explain our rules. He would then lead them up to a room we had booked and explain the rules once more before he would then leave to the adjoining suite, ready to come in, if I so needed.

I quickly became one of the most requested models in all of Tampa. My booking numbers rivaled even those who allowed for sexual contact.

I found myself entertaining a good amount of foreign clients as Deter stayed true to his word and sent a number of referrals my way.

It wasn't unusual for me to be dressed as a sexy nurse at noon and, only 4 hours later, have a Japanese executive drinking Saki from my heels and eating sushi off my bare ass.

We were so busy that we were forced to turn down clients because there weren't enough hours in the day or because we needed a day or two off to rest.

We paid off all our debts in just three months and, by March, after we had been at it for 8 months, we had over 120k deposited in our bank.

I missed my fellow teachers and I missed the children. Our life was better with this kind of income rolling in, for sure, but I wondered if I'd ever be able to teach again after all this ended.