"Mrs. Long?"
I stuck my head into the office, my thick blond hair falling into my eyes. Through the shiny golden haze I saw Mrs. Long, the guidance counselor I'd been assigned to. She was sitting behind a large oak desk, and she looked up at me and beckoned for me to come into the room. "Come in," she said. "How can I help you?"
She was a black-haired woman, probably around forty years old, dressed in blouse and skirt, and I smiled hesitantly at her as I stepped into the room, straightening my red, pleated cheerleader's skirt. I brushed my hair out of my eyes.
"Hi!" I said politely. "My name is Mary. You said you could speak with me after school today?"
"Oh yes!" she exclaimed, and she stood up, motioning for me to take a seat. I suddenly felt myself shiver. I could swear she just looked me over! I thought, shocked. Maybe I'd just imagined it. All the same, I licked my lips uncomfortably, and sat down in the seat, crossing my legs tightly.
"Let me remember," she said, also taking a seat and staring deeply into my eyes. "You're flunking all of your courses because of absences, right?" she asked me.
"That's right."
"That's terrible! Do you have excuses for the absences?"
"I do," I said. "For all of them exceptβ"
I cut short and choked. Across the desk from me, Mrs. Long had begun to slowly squeeze the bottom of her breast in her hand, looking patiently at me.
"Are you okay?" she asked me.
"WhyβIβ" I stuttered. Her breasts were large and looked soft underneath her blouse.
"Yes?" She continued to slowly rub herself, weighing the breast in her palm.
I couldn't help but see her lick her lips as she looked at me, and I felt my thighs tense up. "Yes," I said. "I was saying that I have all the excuses I need exceptβ"
"Uncross you legs," she said.
"What?!"
"I said, uncross you legs! I want to see what's under that skirt."
"WhyβI c-can'tβ"
"You know, better yet," she said, and she slowly stood up, towering over me. "Stand up and come sit on my desk. Come on, sit on it and spread those creamy thighs!"
"No! I won't!"
"If you don't," she said, slowly unbuttoning the top of her flowing blouse, "I'll make sure you never pass this year." She glared at me, then smiled.
I felt a chill cold run through me. I knew that, if I didn't do what she said, let her see my ass, she'd fuck up my whole year. Fear made me tremble as I stood up, and my legs shook. Slowly, I raised a leg and climbed onto her desk. She sat back down in her rolling chair and pulled my knees towards her so that I faced her, my back to the door, then began to spread my legs. I resisted, terrified, but she was too strong. In seconds, my smooth, pale thighs were completely open, obscenely spread, and my skirt was pulled up. I felt cool air rush between my sweat-dampened knees and caress my thinly covered crotch.
"Lie back," commanded Mrs. Long, panting, staring at my round cunt. I burned with shame. All I was wearing was sky-blue cotton panties!
I did as she asked, trembling. I could feel sweat forming on my smooth thighs. My thick, blond hair spread across the desk top, and I closed my eyes. I felt her fingertips brush the insides of my knees, then slide up the smooth curve of my inner thigh and brush softly against my cotton covered mound, felt a spark of heat kindle deep inside my belly. I shivered, and she slowly cupped the bottom of my thighs in her dry, pale palms and stroked them. Her hands closed around the bottoms of my buttocks where they met the wood of the desk. Waves of flame made my belly tremble as she began to stroke her fingertips up and down my mound, slipping her long fingernails across the folds of my vagina. I felt scared and confused. I couldn't believe the feelings I was having. I liked her touching me I realized, and it scared me.