Almost Heaven

Kendall called Jeanne at her home because Buddy had been in a fight at school. He wanted her to meet him at a diner outside of town in an hour. She fretted she hadn't enough time to prepare. It didn't help when, for thirty solid minutes, she scurried about from garment to garment like the proverbial guillotined barnyard fowl.

In the end, Jeanne selected a casual look. She pulled her hair back in a ponytail and put on a thin, beige top eschewing a bra. She wore a sexy, loose-fitting blue skirt that rested just at mid thigh. She tugged a pair of pink panties on and off three times before finally deciding to wear them. Her shoes were a pair of white workout flats with matching ankle socks.

She was proud that she hadn't overdressed as she sped out of town.

Why should Kendall know how much I'm lusting after his black cock?

she asked herself as she imagined going down on the biggest stud in town yet again.

Kendall was seated in a booth when Jeanne arrived and she slid in opposite him. She was thankful she decided on panties as her slick pussy might not have the necessary friction to keep her from sliding right off the vinyl seat and onto the floor.

"Thanks for seeing me on such short notice," Kendall began. "What can I get for you?"

"Just coffee, thanks," Jeanne answered, unsure of her voice. "You wanted to talk about that little scrap Buddy got into at school?"

"In a minute but I have a request of you first."

Jeanne looked at him quizzically.

"Slide your panties down," Kendall demanded.

Momentarily struck dumb by the preposterousness of such a command, Jeanne finally recovered enough to murmur, "What are you talking about?" She was frightened by the request, even more frightened at how excited it made her, and most excited because, ultimately, she knew she would do it.

"Pull them down," Kendall repeated. "You're such an unimaginative tease, Jeanne, you know that? I want you to be world class, not just the best on your white-bread block. I want us to have this discussion while you wear your panties are around your ankles."

"Don't be daft, Kendall," Jeanne said, uncertain if the young black ball player was playing a game with her, pulling some sort of clubhouse prank at her expense, just waiting for a bunch of the guys to jump out pointing and laughing and calling her a slut.

"Please, Kendall, someone will see." Jeanne said when Kendall didn't respond. She was so scared that she had to squeeze her pussy muscles tight to avoid urinating.

"Suit yourself, then, I've got to go," Kendall told her, sliding his leg outward like he were going to exit.

"Wait," Jeanne whispered, her pussy throbbing uncontrollably. She felt her hand sliding upward under the hem of her skirt as she stared into Kendall's dark eyes like she'd been hypnotized. Inexplicably, a stupid joke Arley once told her popped into her head.

Q: Why do blondes wear panties?

A: To keep their ankles warm.

Quickly, she dragged her bikini panties off her hips and down her thighs. Propelled by gravity, they slid freely over her smooth calves and gathered at her ankles. The waitress did a double take when she took Jeanne's order. Clearly she saw the panties and stuttered, having difficulty writing "black coffee" on the slip.

Jeanne sat rigidly erect while talking to Kendall, an interesting juxtaposition of the highly proper with the highly improper. She sat with her back straight, shoulders square, thighs, knees, calves, and ankles pressed firmly together while a puddle of pink silk covered her sneakers.

Her heart was beating with the rapid ferocity of a string of exploding Chinese firecrackers. She was panicked that she would orgasm on the spot flooding the red vinyl of the diner's seat until it overflowed onto the floor.

Jeanne did most of the talking. She told Kendall both she and Joe were huge Pirates fans. When they did get to Buddy, Jeanne said the fight wasn't serious, just the sort of dust up to which seventh graders are prone. Jeanne told the black man who always seemed to make a change of underwear mandatory not to worry, that his son wasn't a bad kid.

"I hear you're the bad girl at school," Kendall commented as unexpectedly as when he "forced" her to pull her panties down. This time, Jeanne was more confused than shocked.

"I heard what happened," he continued when she looked perplexed.

"At the dance?" he said before she finally caught on. Jeanne blushed furiously.

Jesusfuckingchrist!

she fumed,

did everybody know about that fucking dance?

The event that now had Kendall grinning widely at Jeanne's embarrassment was a student dance a few weeks before parent conferences. Teachers were required to rotate chaperone duties and it had been her turn. She was paid modestly for her work, but the real compensation was in seeing her students having fun outside classes.

What got Jeanne into trouble wasn't her behavior; it was the outfit she wore. It was all over school the following Monday morning and the principal called her into his office. She offered no excuses, or explanation of any kind, and promised that she'd dress more modestly in the future.

After she'd admitted to what she'd done and offered an apology, the principal pulled a single sheet of paper from a folder on his desk and handed it to her. She had been written up! Just like that!

What a fucking prick,

Jeanne thought as her temper flared at what she read. She opened her mouth to protest but he just shook his head.

"Jeanne," he told her with a degree of sympathy, "objecting won't change anything. I would have thought that by now you'd realize that you are destined to be treated differently."

"What are you talking about?" Jeanne asked with an edge in her voice.

"The clothes you wore were inappropriate but any other female in this building could have worn the same thing and nothing would have been said. You, however, got reported to the school board. My hands were tied; I had to write that."

"I still don't get it," she replied, marginally less annoyed.

"You're too pretty, Jeanne. People are going to gossip about you and then something has to be done so no one's ass is left exposed. I know it's not your fault. People are envious; they want you held to a higher standard. Less attractive members of the faculty go unnoticed but you take a breath in a faculty meeting and half the staff gets an erection." He shrugged his shoulders.

Jeanne began to fume all over again. She was to be punished because she looked TOO nice. It would be like telling one of her students she had to flunk him because he was too smart.

"Is that all?" she said through clenched teeth.

"You have to sign it," he said, clearing his throat.

After seriously considering refusing, Jeanne grabbed the paper, scribbled quickly, and shoved it back at him before storming out. As she expected, he put the disciplinary report back into the folder without examining it.

I wonder what he'd have said if he'd read it?

she thought as she rounded the corner, a growing smile playing on her lips. She hadn't signed her name; she'd written, "Fuck You."

The funny thing was that Jeanne hadn't intended to show up at the dance dressed as she was at all. In fact, in a way, it was all Kendall's fault. Joe had gone fishing with Arley for the day. Jeanne knew when and where Kendall worked out. She put on a short, sexy skirt, thin blouse, no bra, sexy sandals and drove to the gym so she might "accidentally" bump into him.

She had just exited her car when she saw him coming out of the door. Her plan was to: a) be surprised when she saw him, and then b) say she was thinking of joining and ask his opinion of the place. Maybe, he'd even offer to help her workout sometime.

Jeanne had managed to get herself super horny as she worked up the nerve to put her plan into action. The fly in the ointment was the hot, light-skinned Hispanic girl that followed behind Kendall. Once outside, he turned and kissed her on the lips before he headed for his car and she for hers.

Jeanne was furious and frantically dialed Joe telling him that she was on her way to Arley's boat. She tried to avenge her defeat at the hands of Kendall's "Latina slut" and reaffirm her desirability by taking Arley from behind and Joe in her face on-and-off for more than two solid hours.

She brought the randy threesome to climax after climax after climax. She felt a bit guilty, as her thoughts weren't of her husband and her second best friend, but that magnificent black hunk she now lusted for uncontrollably.

Completely sated, the trio fell into an exhausted sleep. When Arley finally woke her, there was no time to go home and change and Jeanne was forced to go the dance in the clothes she had chosen to attract Kendall.

That fucking Kendall,

Jeanne cursed as she left the principal's office,

if he'd stop flaunting himself all over town, none of this would have happened.

Now the very cause of her getting into trouble was laughing about it.

"Some people say bad girls need to be spanked," Jeanne heard Kendall say when she returned from her lust-trance.

"No one's ever been man enough to spank me since I dislocated my daddy's finger for whippin' my backside when I was nine."

Was she challenging him Jeanne wondered to herself? Daring him to take charge of her? She'd never spoken to anyone like that in her life. He was causing her to behave in ways she'd not considered before. Already he had, inadvertently of course, gotten her in trouble at school.

Perhaps she needed to dial her lust down a notch. But that was easier said than done. Much easier.