Melissa's short brown hair bobbed around her face as she rushed down the hall, heels clicking over the linoleum. She had twenty minutes to make copies, call an angry parent and enter two stacks of exams into her grade book before the next class period began. As she hurried down the stairwell, she cradled the master copies in one arm to hide the way her breasts bounced with each step.
A few confident senior boys nodded and murmured "Good morning Ms. Dawson" as she passed. From the way they glanced at her and quickly diverted their eyes or shifted the position of their notebooks to cover below their belts, the two sheets of white paper did not accomplish their task.
She smiled in return, pretending ignorance. What else could she do? Apologize for her poor choice of outfit today? She knew that the cloth of her blouse showed the lacy texture of her bra, just as she suspected that anyone behind her could see more than they should be able to. The cute boy's brief style panties that seemed like a good idea at the time would not stay in place, leaving half her bottom exposed through the satiny gray skirt. In fact, her panties were riding up uncomfortably. If she had the time, she would stop in the restroom to make the adjustments, but she just couldn't spare the extra moment.
None of this would have been a problem if she had gotten to work on time this morning. But, as usual, her boyfriend had rolled over on top of her three minutes before it was time to get up. And as usual, her alarm clock went off before he did. She had spent the next thirty-five minutes--time she was supposed to use to shower and dress--pinned under the rutting lummox while the radio blared mindless radio chatter. Though she had given him all her customary moans of encouragement, it still took so long that she considered letting him stick it in her ass just to speed up the process. Luckily, he must have found the right lumberjack (her way of thinking of whatever fantasy he needed to rid himself of his morning wood) before she verbalized her time-saving offer.
He never gave any consideration to her schedule. Or the fact that this was the third time this week that he made her late for work. Or that she hadn't had a genuine orgasm in a month, for that matter. Apparently, a loud groan in her ear and a "have a good day, babe" reeking of morning breath was all satisfaction she required. If not that, then surely the damp panties because he refused to wear a condom would serve as a reminder of how lucky she was to have a pro athlete waiting for her at home.
Usually, she could shrug off her grumbling and plan to turn the circumstances in her favor when he came over to her apartment that evening. But today...he just didn't seem like he was worth the effort. In the few moments he had left her this morning, she had rushed to shower and dress. She cut her knee twice as she shaved, but was out of hose to hide the knicks. She accidentally grabbed mousse instead of styling putty, so that her hair fluttered around her face with the lightest breath of air rather than staying put. She threw on the first matching outfit she pulled out of her closet and dressed as she ran into the living room to gather the papers she had been grading the night before, slipping her arms into the straps of her bra, hopping into her skirt, and fastening the last few buttons as she rushed down the steps to her car.
It was only after she got to school and noted how the students, especially the boys and her male colleagues, were looking at her that she paused to catch her reflection in the office window. She was dressed like a slut, with the cum dripping down her thighs to prove it. She just wanted this day to end. With relief, Melissa slipped into the office, past the cluster of teachers at the mailboxes, into the empty copy room. She tossed the master copies into the tray in the first available machine and hit the button. The machine hummed to life, sucking in the first sheets and spitting out duplicates.
Next order of business was to fix her panties. Keeping her eyes on the window in the door that peered into the heavily populated office, she slipped one hand along her inner thigh and tugged her panties down into place properly.
Melissa's face burned with the possibility that someone would come in and catch her. Her fingertips came away damp and the signature scent seemed to fill the room. This was the last straw. He had to start wearing condoms. She reached for the tissue box before she smeared it on her master copies, or worse, the copiers themselves. Would anyone notice if that happened? If the entire school was distributing copies marked with the dripping fingerprints of one of their youngest teachers?
The box of tissues was empty. She stared at it, considering wiping her fingers inside before throwing it away, but fearing that someone would know, when two tissues appeared in front of her, offered by a petite hand.
Melissa jumped, her cheeks blazing. She had thought she was alone in the copy room. The last thing she wanted to do was acknowledge the other person, but it would look worse if she didn't.
"Thank you," she said, accepting the tissues and wiping her fingers without turning. She couldn't think of a passable lie quick enough to explain what she had been doing. "I'm so embarrassed, but--"
"Don't be embarrassed," a soft voice interrupted. "One time, I threw mine away in the girl's locker room because it was easier not to wear them."
Melissa knew immediately who it was: Kate, the new Spanish teacher. The citrus scent of perfume surrounded her, as sensual as the other woman's breath on the nape of her neck.
Melissa flushed hotter, feeling guilty and excited at the same time. A few months ago at a staff meeting, she'd been so bored that she had snapped pictures of the people on her cell phone who she'd be willing to have sex with. Only two teachers had made the list--the new journalism teacher, a tall and broad shouldered, muscular man with an easy smile and the math teacher who had that distinguished, Sean Connery charisma that still made him attractive despite the fact that he was older than her father. On a whim, she'd also snapped a picture of Kate, admiring her perky curves, her blonde curls, her easy smile and the glint in her blue eyes, as if she had a secret she'd never tell another living soul.
The other pictures she had long since deleted, but Kate's she'd kept for some reason. As motivation to go to the gym more often, Melissa had told herself. But now, with Kate standing behind her so close that her nipples pricked Melissa's back, she had to be honest with herself--she kept the picture because she was attracted to Kate, plain and simple.
Perhaps Kate was only trying to help. But if she didn't feel some of the same desire, wouldn't she have stepped away by now?
Melissa looked up and saw six people in the office outside the copy room door--their principal, Steve, included. Her skin flushed, and her panties were damp again, but this time she couldn't blame her boyfriend.
