Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Note: Please let me assure those that have asked… YES… this is a TRUE story. The names of the venues and the participants have been changed but the actual events have all taken place as described. I hope you continue to enjoy the telling.
I knew I was right.
Dissecting it from every angle…, it was a loser.
I had a great family, a thriving business “Empire” and a lifestyle that allowed me to do just about anything I wanted.
Mrs. Adams…? She had a family and a career too. What was it she wanted me to do?
Besides…, my granddaughter was older than her son… and only a few years younger than her daughter! Hell, I had to be close to fifteen…? No…, maybe twenty years older than she was! What was she thinking?
I told my story in Lexi’s class, those who’d been in Mrs. Adams class laughing harder than the new children, since I’d included some of them in the story. Ms. Yelle had tried to accommodate me, but the time just after lunch worked out best for everyone.
Feeling stupid, but knowing that would turn to guilt if I didn’t, I walked to Elle’s classroom once I was done, just so she’d know I wouldn’t be there at the end of the day.
I was greeted by another of her, “$1,000,000” smiles, “Finished already?” rather than, “What are you doing here so early?” letting me know she knew my schedule as well as I did.
She also had a plan.
Opening the door to the adjoining classroom, she called out, “Mrs. Harrington. Would you watch my class while I consult with a parent?”
Mrs. Harrington showed up immediately, nodded at me and then said, “They’ll be fine,” to Elle, as she led me out the door and down the hallway to a small…, office?
Once inside she closed the door behind us.
I stood there waiting for… I had no idea what?
That question was answered very quickly!
“I just want you to know that I still feel the same way and I’m never going to stop feeling that you are the man of my dreams. I know you don’t feel the same way about me and I respect you for that. But, and I won’t pressure you, I’d really appreciate you telling stories to my class too, because I know they would enjoy hearing them and it might make them use their imaginations… so… what do you think?”
I waited a second, before answering, “Do you think that would be a good idea…, considering your feelings?”
“I’m already resigned to you not reciprocating my feelings, so…, I can handle it.”
Giving her a sideways look, “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure!” adding a killer smile.
I looked at her for a long moment, trying to judge my feelings and not hers.
“Okay…, but we’ll have to find a way to integrate what you’re teaching into my stories, maybe reinforce your lessons?”
Her reaction was instantaneous, as she practically jumped on top of me, kissing me full on the lips!
When I didn’t recoil, since I hadn’t had a chance, she kissed me again…, this time güvenilir bahis a hint of her tongue between my closed lips.
“Elle…!” in a voice not quite scolding.
Bouncing up and down like one of her students, she grabbed my hands and held them…, “Sorry…, sorry… and thank you, thank you, thank you! The kids will love you and I know it will be good for them. When can you start?”
“Let me check with Ms. Yelle and we can work on it. Now you get back to class and I’ll talk to you about this then.”
When she opened the door, one of the office secretaries was standing in the hallway, a stern look on her face, as if we’d been doing something wrong in that room. I smiled at her, getting no reaction, while Elle just ignored her.
I said, “Good bye,” and watched Elle walk down the corridor. Then I went to the office, signed out and went back to work myself.
During the drive back to my office, I kept wondering why I was letting myself be manipulated? The answer was pretty self evident…, even with her still wearing the Pilgrim style clothing, in my mind I could see those tan lines!
I told my first story to her class a month later.
In between I met with her twice, the first time at the Public Library, which was adjacent to the school and the second time in her classroom after school. Neither visit was without some seriously scurrilous moments!
We were at the library because she’d suggested that I base my stories on the books that she was reading to her class. Since the school library only had one copy of that book and I would need to read it in order to tell the class my version of the story, I’d need another copy of the book so that I could finish at the same time she finished reading it to them herself. For that to happen, I needed to get a library card.
Why did she need to be there?
“To show you…, how to use the computer?” her first attempt at an explanation.
I just looked at her.
“To introduce you to the librarian…, she’s a good friend and will help you find anything you need.”
I turned and pointed at the dozen or so kids from the school who were either doing homework on the readily available computers, or sitting and reading actual books…, with real pages.”
I then asked, “Do you really think I’ll need the librarian’s undivided attention in order to act like your average second grader…, in order to find my way to, “Charlotte’s Web?”
She laughed…, and then confessed, “How about I just wanted to sit down with you and look at you and listen to you talk…, and then I can go home and masturbate thinking about making love to you?”
I coughed, looked around and said, “Let’s go find a seat.”
So we sat in the library, surrounded by a bunch of kids, and adults, and talked about stuff.
For instance; “Why do you wear these ridicules clothes?” pointing to the floor length skirt and turtleneck sweater she was wearing, “from what I remember, you have türkçe bahis a great body and you should be showing it off instead of hiding it under these ’60’s, Hippie, or farmer’s wife leftovers.”
“You think I have a great body? You mean you noticed?” her cynical reply.
“That wasn’t the question,” ignoring the response, “why do you dress like this?”
“You won’t believe this, but…, this is the only way Todd will let me leave the house.”
Dumbfounded, I asked, “Your husband? Why would he, of all people, want you to hide yourself under this stuff?”
“It’s complicated,” she said, putting both hands on my knees before adding, “but if you’d like, we can take my car…, it’s really a mini van and park somewhere private and I could take everything off and then explain what I think is his reasoning.”
Slowly shaking my head, “I could probably have you jailed for making those kinds of suggestive remarks!”
“Take me up on my offer and I’ll gladly do the 30 days,” while giving me another of her perfect smiles.
I got my library card and walked out with her to her Chrysler Town & Country.
“Nice ride,” as I looked in through the open window. “Do those backseats fold down?”
Turning, she looked back at them…, before turning back to me, saying, “I can have them removed if you think it would help me get you back there.”
I smiled and said, “Good Bye.”
Meeting her in her classroom the day before I was to tell the story, should have been an easier proposition. It was, after all, just after the students had been dismissed, with the entire staff still in the building, their school day ending at 4:00 PM. It wasn’t going to take me fifty minutes to explain why and how I’d put my story together, because I’d already outline my reasoning previously. I only needed her to explain to her class beforehand what I was going to do and then why. I’d repeat the reasons when I sat down in front of them and then hope they’d get it.
After I’d gone over all of that, she decided to inform me, in detail, that she’d learned how to, “lay down the rear seats in her van,” until they were all perfectly flat, “and I bought a air mattress that I can blow up with a pump that fits into a plug in the back of the van,” so it would be just like a full size bed!
“Well, that’s good to know. I’m sure your husband and kids will find that information useful if you ever decide to go camping,” I said, standing and ready to, quickly, leave her classroom.
She laughed and then asked if I’d stay a moment longer, more questions about my story and then a suggestion that the end of the day would be the best time, “…, for her and the kids,” for me to tell them the story.
Resorting to a lie, I told her that, “Right after lunch seemed to be the consensus view of the other staff members. The children will be, “recharged,” after the meal, and thus more attentive to the story.”
Her answer to that was, “Well they don’t have an güvenilir bahis siteleri ulterior motive for having you here at the end of the day…, do they?”
Now I laughed, “Glad to see that you’re still honest about it.”
By the time I’d gotten her to agree to prepare the kids so they’d, at least, know I was coming to tell them a story…, and also to have it happen just after lunch, it was now after 4:00 PM. With her classroom facing the parking lot, I watched the staff exiting the building…, until she drew the window blinds, announcing, “Oops, looks like we’re alone. Time just flies when we’re together.”
I’d figured that had been her plan, so I made my move to escape.
Getting up and walking to the window, I looked out and said, “Nope, still a car out there. And, I’m sure the janitors are still here too.”
“Blue Toyota?” she asked.
Looking again, “Yup,” I answered.
“That’s Leo, the principal. He stays a little later of Wednesdays and he’ll come down to check on me before he leaves. He’s a real good guy, and he thinks just like you. He’ll be here,” looking at the wall clock, “in a couple of minutes.”
I guess she read my mind, because she smiled and said, “He’s like you because he thinks I dress like a Pilgrim too.”
Not wanting to get into THAT, although she’d deviated in her wardrobe selection, wearing loose fitting slacks and another turtleneck, I moved toward the door, not figuring she’d get there before I did…, which was exactly what she did!
“Will you give me a kiss?” her eyes looking right into mine.
“No!” before I added, “Because you told me you’d control yourself.”
“Hey,” with a slight shrug, “I haven’t taken my clothes off yet…, have I?
Grabbing her by the top of her arms, I moved her to the side and stepped into the open doorway. “That’s why I’m leaving right now!” giving her a smile.
Grabbing my left arm, her voice pleading in a little girl falsetto, “Pweeze, just a widdle kiss…, like we’re just friends saying good bye.”
“Jeez…,” trying to inject an element of aggravation in my voice, I leaned toward her and gave her a quick peck on the lips. What I hadn’t anticipated was her wrapping her arms around my neck, almost pulling me off my feet, her mouth covering mine, her tongue quickly finding its way inside…
Instinctively, I kissed her back, nearly melting into the floor at her feet!
Then I realized what had happened and forcefully pushed her away!
“Christ Elle! You’ve got to stop this!” now moving just outside the classroom. “It will not happen!”
Head down, “I’m sorry! I know…, I respect how you feel. I have to control myself! From now on, I’ll stay away from you. If I come within arms reach of you… just back away. I’m sorry.”
Shaking my head, I said, “One more time and that’s it. No stories, no nothing.”
“Okay…, I agree,” she promised, head back up, a look of assurance on her face.
Shaking my head again, I told her, “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow…, let’s say 1:00 PM.”
“1:00 PM…, okay,” as she stepped away.
I started to turn, saying, “Good bye,” when she asked, “Can I get a kiss with that?”
I kept on walking.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32