I love my job, but some days are better than others. And Monday had been... well, not the best.
Stacie had called at 7:30 that morning, asking me to go on over to the Memorial Blvd location as a fill-in for the day. Normally that would be fine, but I'd never worked at Memorial, and I'd already planned a date for that night. It'd be tough to get back in time.
"I'm not sure I can make it, Stace," I said, rubbing the sleep from my eyes; Lyle flopped over in bed next to me, grumbling. "That's clear across town." I'd grown up over there, and felt happy for having escaped.
"Look, I can get you time and a half," she pleaded. Well, shit. That was different; I was pulling my hair back and rummaging for a required green shirt within ten minutes, taking a Pop-Tart into the car with me after a quick kiss for Lyle.
But now it was past three, and I was supposed to leave at four, and I was feeling antsy. It was winter, so snot was EVERYWHERE at Auntie Petunia's Bright Gardens Daycare, smeared all down the legs of my yoga pants and coating the hem of my shirt; a fine spray of glitter lay in my curly hair. The girls here were nice enough, but they were from a somewhat lower tax bracket than I aspired to... my mom's tax bracket. My old tax bracket. Now I lived in Avery Glen, a nasty little apartment to be honest, but at least I was out of the low-rent Memorial neighborhood.
Lynette poked her head into Toddler Two, where I was the acting room director there of one other employee, a girl named Amy; she was a senior at Glen Avery, two years behind me. "How many now, Vickie?"
"Three. Just Amara, Scotty, and little Lenora."
"Cool. Scotty's dad should be coming soon, and then you can go home if you want."
"Great!" I waggled my eyebrows at Amy. "Then you can be acting room director!" We laughed, then started cleaning up the remains of snacktime. Scotty was a beautiful boy, but a handful. His hair was a curly, sandy blonde, like mine; I wondered about his father.
At 3:21, the door tone went. I heard a man come in, exchange pleasantries with Lynette, and come striding to the baby gate. "Where's my little man?" The voice was a pleasant baritone, rich and happy, and I froze; I had known that voice well. I whirled around just as he came to the gate.
"Mr Herrick!" I yelped. He stopped short and blinked at me.
"Oh!" I could see him trying hard to connect my name with my face, so I helped him out.
"Sophomore history? Guitar Club?" I rolled my eyes, smiling sheepishly. "A year as a bad cross-coutry runner?"
"Oh! Yeah! Vickie!" I watched as his eyes flickered up and down my body, and I obscurely hoped he liked what he saw. I was two years out of high school, struggling to pay for classes at the local state university, and I had no time to work out. But I was still as slender as I'd ever been, naturally athletic, with a really tiny ass and a set of 32Bs that didn't even need a bra most of the time. Only on Thanksgiving, following a massive meal, did I nudge the scales over 120, and even that only lasted until my next shit. Lyle was always prodding me to eat more, but then Lyle didn't complain when I wrapped my long legs around him. I had the same freckled face Mr Herrick had last seen, the same dark eyes, the same wide expressive mouth now bent into a warm smile.
"It's great to see you again, Mr Herrick," I sang. Early on, I'd learned to make up for my skinny body by becoming a witty flirt, and I'd learned which teachers I could pull that off with. Mr Herrick had always been one of my favorites in class, a funny man with good command of his subject, confident in front of the class... and not unwilling to flirt back, just a little. A very little. He and I had gotten closer when I'd joined the Guitar Club. His eyes crinkled now as he returned my smile; I could tell he'd liked what he'd seen, even in an oversized T-shirt and snotty yoga pants.
"What are you doing here, Vickie?" He ran a hand absently through his brown hair.
"It's Miss Vickie now," I pointed out. "They were short today, so I came over from the Avery Rd location. Just helping out for awhile."
"Lucky me! I love catching up." He looked into my eyes, and there was definite interest there. I wasn't shocked; even as a sophomore, I'd noticed his glances at my ass during cross country. Male teachers are always noticing their female students: it's an immutable law of nature. Sometimes the students care, sometimes not; I found it always depended on the teacher. I'd never once minded Mr Herrick's glances.
"Well, if Little Scotty's yours, then I'm out the door with you; I'm afraid we won't be doing any catching up unless you give me a ride somewhere."
"Seriously? Happy to." He bent down to scoop up his son, now chomping at the bit to get a hug. I smiled. It was always nice to see attached fathers.
"No, I'm good. My car's outside. Guess you'll need to wait to, umm, give me a ride." There were obvious undertones there, and I could see that he caught them; I disarmed him with a friendly grin. "You can walk me out, though."
Memorial Blvd was in a strip mall, sandwiched between a sub shop and a discount clothing store. I gestured him out the door first, giving me a chance to check out his ass; he'd lost a little bit of weight over the past couple of years, was now leaner and with quicker movements. The ass looked firm and juicy in his work khakis. "Have you been working out, Mr Herrick?" I asked, the door swinging shut behind us. I put on a pair of oversized shades.
"Little bit," he admitted. "I turned 40 last year, so I kinda have to. Of course," he added quickly, "you don't have that problem. You look as good as ever."
"Why thank you, sir," I purred, batting my eyelashes behind the sunglasses. "It's always nice to be admired despite the snot, especially by my new favorite customer."
"Ha!" We were headed toward his truck, a large silver one. He'd parked a couple spots down from my Corolla. He loaded Scotty into the back, then looked me over more meaningfully. "The glitter really brings out your eyes," he smiled.
"Thanks; I put it in there just for you." I followed my flirting instincts and let my eyes drop down to his package. It wasn't the first time I'd done so; as a horny sophomore, I'd daydreamed about it. I hadn't been the only girl. This time, I knew he'd notice. The glasses weren't that dark. "I'll be back tomorrow, though."
"Great!"
"Yeah," I continued, my gaze still on his package. "Something for me to look forward to."
"You and me both." He winked at me, then headed around to his driver door. "Take it easy, Vickie!" I watched him drive off. Then I pulled my phone out and called Stacie to let her know I wanted to stay at Memorial Blvd as long as they needed me. She seemed surprised.
* * *
Lyle was confused that night when I attacked him, my scrawny body writhing on top of him with a hunger I hadn't shown in weeks. As usual, he failed to make me cum, but he got me further that night than he usually did. I finished off with my fingers, thinking about my former teacher.
* * *
I'd been more careful in my clothing selection the next day, my shirt tighter to show off my abs, the collar strategically ripped to let my bra strap show. Despite the pain and impracticality, I was wearing wedges instead of flip-flops; most of the day we were in bare feet or socks, anyway. I tied my shirt up at the waist at 3:00, glancing into the funhouse mirror to make sure I was showing the right amount of skin. Amy watched all this with a knowing grin.
"Got a DILF coming?" she asked with a wink. "A former teacher, maybe?"
"None of your beeswax," I replied, winking back. She laughed.
"I loved his class last year," she confided. "I did nothing but look at his ass all day."
"It was the same when I was there. I didn't take any of his electives because he distracted me so much." Sitting on a small chair, I spread my arms wide and nestled with Little Scotty. "Oh yes," I muttered to him, "I'd be your mommy, Scotty. Hell yes."
Amy made a face. "Don't you have a boyfriend, Vick?" I smiled.
"Not that he knows about." The door tone went then, so when Mr Herrick came to the baby gate he saw me smiling up at him, my hair carefully disheveled, holding his son in my arms. "Why hello, sir!" I said brightly. "Little Scotty was just asking for you." I released the boy to run across to his dad, but I remained hunched over to let my shirt gape open. I didn't have much down there, but what I had was clearly visible to him. And I saw him notice.
I got up slowly. "Good day at school, Mr Herrick? All those young minds running
you ragged?"
"Same old same old, Miss Vickie." He rolled his eyes at me, watching as I moved toward him. I was showing camel toe today; the only question in my mind was whether his eyes would get that low after they halted at my bare midriff. I stopped, my legs slightly parted, and waited... there you go! Those warm brown eyes shot straight to my vag. I felt myself flush indulgently.
"Better the young minds than the young bodies, I guess. Running you ragged." I waited for his eyes to come back up, and once they did he knew I'd caught him staring. He smiled coolly.
"None of that for me, Miss Vickie. Mrs Herrick and I are in bed by 9:00 these days. Getting old." He didn't look it, though, as he bent to pick up his son. No hint of grey in that thick hair, no real wrinkles on that handsome face. He paused, idly tickling Little Scottie. "'Miss Vickie' sounds like a dominatrix."