Almost Heaven Ch 07

In addition to teachers, school dances were chaperoned parent volunteers. Jeanne just happened to be standing in the principal's office when she overheard the end of a conversation one of the secretaries was having with someone on the phone, one that concluded, "Why certainly Mr. Ashe, I'll make a note of it right away."

She watched as the woman retrieved the clipboard holding the list of chaperones and write something. Later in the day, Jeanne returned to the office and saw Kendall's name now appearing on the list the same day as she was scheduled.

On the night of the affair, Jeanne changed her outfit a dozen times looking for just the right virgin-slut combination. Had she not already been reprimanded for unprofessional attire, Jeanne would have worn something much more daring than the selection she settled on.

Still, the skirt that stopped several inches above her knee had a zippered slit that meant she could adjust the exposure of her thigh depending on conditions. The camisole style top was one she wore to school on occasion although her brassiere and cover sweater would remain at home for the evening's function. It just met the top of her skirt presenting her with myriad ways to expose her midriff should she choose.

Examining herself carefully in the mirror, especially the seductive gap that appeared between her blouse and skirt, Jeanne secured a glittering blue crystal to her navel, something she only did when she was feeling unavoidably naughty.

Surprisingly, to Jeanne at least, Kendall did not seek her out when he arrived. Apparently he preferred to engage in sports chatter with seventh grade boys and bask in adulation of the pubescent desires of the girls.

Jeanne cursed silently to herself as she discovered she could not control her feet as they strolled in his direction. She stood on the periphery of the group surrounding the celebrity for several long, uncomfortable moments unrecognized.

"Oh, hi Jeanne," Kendall said, smiling brightly just as she was about to turn and leave. It was almost as if he could read her mind and made her stand in embarrassed agony as long as possible.

"Oooo, hi Jeanne," mocked a modulating, adolescent voice.

"Mind your manners," cautioned Kendall to no one in particular but obeyed by everyone.

"Good evening, Mr. Ashe," Jeanne replied in her most professional demeanor.

Extracting himself from his juvenile posse, Kendall took Jeanne's arm asking if he might have a word with her.

"What's up?" Jeanne asked casually when the couple reached a quiet corner, trying to mask the arousal she felt.

"Nothing really," Kendall replied, "I just needed to get away from the junior paparazzi league over there for a few minutes."

"How's Buddy doing?" each asked the other in unison then laughed together.

"Don't we have to 'pinky swear' or something?" Kendall asked holding his little finger out.

"What should we swear?" asked Jeanne linking her small finger in his and receiving a lust burn at the juncture of her thighs.

"I not only don't know what, I don't know why," chuckled Kendall. "I was just hoping I could hear you to use some salty language. You're always so formal and polite."

Like the day I flashed you my beaver polite?

Jeanne thought darkly, still embarrassed by rememberances of what she'd done, or rather let be done to her, at conferences.

Or the formal way I sat with my panties around my ankles in a public fucking restaurant?

There was just something about this black ballplayer that fried her logic circuits whenever she saw him and she worried tonight would be no exception.

"Oh gosh darn then!" Jeanne whispered sternly. "Like that you mean?" Kendall shook his head and laughed.

"Gee willikers?" More laughter, more head shaking. "Golly?" Jeanne continued, using the best mock swear words she could think of given her overheated condition.

Suddenly, the gym became hushed. An invisible hand dimmed the lights as a ballad began. Young couples began pushing their bodies together.

"Would you like to dance?" Kendall asked Jeanne catching her off guard.

"Kendall!" she protested more strenuously than the invitation demanded. "How would that look if we danced to this music? The gossip would never cease. You don't have to work here but I do."

Jeanne's stated objection, of course, was to being seen dancing with the young black man, not to actually dancing with him, something that was not lost on Kendall. Taking her hand, he led her out one of the gymnasium doors and into a darkened hallway.

"No one can see us here," he offered, taking the gorgeous brunette in his arms.

Jeanne melted as she felt the strong black arms pull her close. She moved her arms around his neck and pushed her body tight against his. God his body was hard...and not just there. She pressed her lips against the collar of his shirt intent on leaving puckered testimony to the fact that she'd been there.

She felt Kendall nuzzle her neck but turned her face when his lips sought hers. He slowly danced her backwards until she was pinned against the lockers that lined the halls. Again Kendall sought her mouth but was denied when she ducked her head.

Moving his hand to her luxurious, lustrous tresses, Kendall stroked her soft hair for a few moments before linking his dark brown fingers and her light brown locks. He pressed his hand firmly against the locker pinioning Jeanne's head in position. He moved his lips toward hers and she became frightened and excited when she realized she couldn't avoid being kissed for a third time.

"Kendall, no!" Jeanne whispered softly but her tone and tenor disputed her message. Both knew he would take whatever he wanted and that she would allow it.

The touch of his thick, full lips on hers sent a jingling, jangling message across her nervous system telling her breasts and genitals to light the fires of need. Jeanne's lips were already beginning to part when Kendall's tongue reached them.

She used her own tongue like some prehensile weapon in the battle between the sexes as she sought to drag Kendall's farther into her mouth. Her erethism was in full gallop and threatened to send her into orgasm from the kiss alone.

Into her mouth Kendall's tongue went. And went...and went.

Holy shit, he's trying to see if I've had my tonsils out!

Jeanne thought bemusedly. And Kendall's tongue kept going.

I can't believe I'm going to have to deep throat this guy's tongue. That's got to be a first!

Jeanne felt her labia begin to lip sync a love poem to Kendall's cock like her vulva were searching for some vestigial, vaginal vocal chords that had become an evolutionary dead end with the advent of human speech. Even her anal ring was fizzing like it had been used to uncap a bottle of sparkling water.

Kendall cupped Jeanne's perky breast as she mustered all her waning will for a final attempt to at least postpone the inevitable until they were off school property.

"Kendall, the cameras," Jeanne breathed with her final available breath of dissuasion. It was a ruse, but it worked. She managed to wrest control of his thoughts from his penis. Jeanne wanted Kendall's dick even more than he wanted to give it to her but she also wanted to keep her job. There had to be a way to have both.

"What?" asked a dazed Kendall, suddenly a least twenty percent rational. "What cameras?" he asked looking around.

"You can't see them," fabricated Jeanne further. "Homeland Security made all schools install them after 9-11." It worked, Kendall released his grip on her hair and she was free to further disengage herself.

"Fucking Arabs," offered Kendall with a chuckle. "A guy can't even get any poontang anymore. Hey, would you like to go out some time?"

"You mean like on a date?"

"Sure, like a date."

"You do know I'm married, right?"

"Is that a problem?"

"Don't you think my husband might object to having his wife go out with another man?" Jeanne responded, clearly avoiding the question.

"You'd be surprised how many fans are actually proud to have their wives date a ballplayer."

"You're joking," Jeanne accused while secretly hoping Kendall was telling the truth.

Kendall pressed a business card into Jeanne's hand. It advertised The Pink Pirate and contained a Pittsburgh address and telephone number. It also had Kendall's signature on it, which made it valuable in its own right.

"It's a private club where ballplayers relax and meet female fans. Mostly it's Pirates but some of the Steelers hang out there too. The club was started in the 1960 season when the pennant run brought out a huge number of new lady fans. Bring Joe with you. There are always several married couples there. The husbands enjoy talking with the guys and the wives enjoy..."

Kendall didn't conclude his thought because he didn't need to.