NEED TO TALK, the note said. MEET ME IN THE BOY'S WASHROOM BY THE GYM. FIRST PERIOD.
The note was written on an index card, and taped to the inside of Natalie Junswick's locker. At the bottom of the index card, Mr. Randle had signed his name.
Natalie hadn't seen Mr. Randle in weeks, since an unfortunate incident at her house; inside Natalie's bedroom. The episode had nearly cost Mr. Randle his job as a substitute teacher; therefore she was astonished he would set up their next encounter on school grounds.
The prospects of doing something sleazy with Mr. Randle inside Pleasant Point High School made her body tingle. Lately, her favorite substitute teacher had been ignoring her, avoiding conversations and eye contact in the halls. Natalie understood the reasons for his discomfort. She had observed Mr. Randle in a way no student should observe a teacher.
It was 8:03 AM. In two minutes, first period would commence, and Natalie would be expected in Mr. Phelps's English class. Ironically enough, Mr. Randle had been substituting for a flu ridden Mr. Phelps the day they had removed their relationship outside the confines of the school.
A shrill bell signified the start of first period. The remaining students headed for their first period classes. In a few minutes, Natalie was alone in the halls. Both her locker and the washroom were located on the first floor. At the moment, the hall was free of security, but at any moment, her isolation could be thwarted by an off-duty police officer, then all hope would be lost.
She slid the index card inside her English book, placed the heavy text book back in the locker, and shut the locker door. Hurriedly, Natalie walked to the washroom by the gym. She encountered no serious problems, but at the stairs near the washroom, Natalie heard the husky voice of an off duty police woman, yelling at a student about getting his butt to class.
Natalie increased her pace, nearly running through the empty halls. She arrived at the washroom door unseen. She made one last observation of the hallway before entering the washroom.
Finally, after weeks of suffering, contact with Mr. Randle.
***
"Mr. Randle!" she called out.
The boy's washroom was empty. The two stalls were unoccupied. She was surprised by how clean the place looked, and how fresh it smelled, but it was still early in the morning. A girl could only imagine the smell five hours from now.
"Mr. Randle!" she called out again.
Natalie double checked the stalls, but neither revealed the substitute teacher. In an area this small, there was a no place for him to hide. Mr. Randle either had a change of heart, or he got held up by security or another faculty member. Natalie leaned toward the latter.
"Mr. Randle!" she called out one last time.
Natalie observed herself in the mirror. Her walnut shaped, emerald green eyes glimmered. The tears she held back didn't come from the profound sadness of being stood up by the man she loved, but the immature sadness a child may express in a mall if the child didn't get the toy he or she desired. Natalie was spoiled rotten by a rich father and overprotective mother. Only on rare occasions did Natalie not get something she wanted.
She wore a tight white tank top that barely concealed her 34DD breasts. At the center of the shirt, written across the breasts in big red letters were the words: MORE THAN A HANDFUL. She also wore a pair of denim pants that perfectly defined every curve of her bubbly ass. The school dress code frowned on Natalie's choice of clothing, but security and teachers usually kept their mouths shut. Most of the security guards and teachers at Pleasant Point were male.
Instead of leaving the bathroom, Natalie stuck around, hoping Mr. Randle would arrive a few minutes late. She paced the bathroom while observing herself in the mirror every once in a while. As shallow as it sounded, Natalie thought she looked gorgeous, almost as pretty as any model, singer or actress she had ever seen on TV or in a magazine. But unlike most celebrities, her breasts were 100% real, and she didn't need make-up specialists or computers to enhance her beauty; Natalie was all natural.
A few minutes ticked away. The anticipation was killing her. Where the hell was Mr. Randle? Who was keeping him from her? What if he didn't show up at all? Impossible. She needed him in away that was becoming scary. Every minute without him was torture. She didn't love him, but she lusted for him the way a fat man lusted for a donut. Natalie wanted a mouthful of Mr. Randle, and she wanted it bad.
8:15 AM.
I can't stand it, she screamed inside her head. What the hell was he doing? He knew damn well that she was in the bathroom waiting. He was talking to a security guard about sports or some Goddamn irrelevant topic while Natalie stirred in her juices.
8:17 AM.
There was a sound outside the bathroom door. A soft tapping, then a louder noise: knocking. The bathroom door swung open. Having almost completely given up on their romantic rendezvous, Natalie expected the worse. Standing in the doorway with a wicked grin on his dark, handsome face was Mr. Randle.
***
"I was getting ready to leave," Natalie said. "What took you so long?"
"I was resigning. I'm leaving Pleasant Point, and moving back to Minneapolis."
Natalie was a little hurt by the news, but her face remained emotionless. If this was her last encounter with Mr. Randle, she would take the necessary steps toward making it special.
"Are you leaving because of me?" Natalie asked.
"No. I mean when your mother walked in, I thought my job was history. I lived in fear for the next couple weeks, wondering when I was going to get the axe. But the axe never dropped. Why?"
"My mother and father have their own secrets. Secrets they'd rather keep from other people. Secrets they'd rather keep from each other as a matter of fact."
Mr. Randle nodded.
"Why are you leaving, then?"
"In Minneapolis, I'll have my own class. I won't have to waste my career as a substitute."
Natalie sensed that the small talk was coming near its conclusion. He was nervous, talking while observing, considering his next step. She wasn't the brightest girl in the world, but she'd always been able to read men. The look in his eyes was deceiving. She had seen that same intense gaze in her own bedroom a few weeks ago.
"Why'd you want to meet me here?"
"Going away present."
Natalie smirked. "Is it in your pants?"
"As a matter of fact, it is."
She wanted Mr. Randle just as badly as he wanted her, but Natalie needed to be patient. It had been pure torment waiting for him, and returning the favor would be sweet revenge.
"Are you sure it's safe?"
He advanced toward her, checking out her tits. Natalie watched in fascination as his cock erected before her eyes.
"I took care of it."
"What if somebody walks in?" she asked. "Hundreds of boys use this bathroom every day."
"Not this early in the morning."
Mr. Randle pulled her tight against his broad chest, filling her mouth with his tongue. The kiss was more passionate than it had been the first time. Natalie had yearned for those lips, for that tongue. Her body was ablaze with passion as Mr. Randle roamed her chest with his strong, confident hands.
Breaking this kiss was hardest thing she ever did.