Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
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 Ankara escort 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.”
I laughed, full-throated, grabbing my jacket. He watched me put it on. Amy watched closely, like a spectator at a tennis match. “Not quite yet, Mr Herrick. I’m a daycare worker; that’s bad, but considerably higher on the feminine college-job food chain than dominatrix.”
“What’s lowest?” he prodded.
“Waitress.”
“Hmm.” He lowered Ankara escort bayan his voice, holding the baby gate open for me. “I was thinking prostitute.”
Amy covered her mouth to hide a gasp. I smiled at Mr Herrick. This was getting good. I gave him a withering stare, then leaned into the office. “See you tomorrow, Lynette.” She glanced up at me, over at Mr Herrick, and her eyes narrowed. She nodded.
I waited until we were out in the parking lot before I took it further. “I could never be a prostitute,” I mused, slowly putting my shades on. He’d parked right next to me today. “I mean, come on,” I continued as we strolled toward the cars. “How much could I make having sex? Fifty bucks, tops?”
“Hmm.” He paused, stopped, and stared at my ass until I turned playfully toward him. “For you I’d pay at least fifty-five.”
“Stop it!” I giggled. I had no idea he could be this much fun. I pulled out my phone while he put his little guy in the car. I busied myself in the New Contacts, then handed the phone to him. “Go ahead and put your number in, Mr Herrick. We can be contacts.” I waggled my brows meaningfully. “My generation is into that kind of thing.”
He looked at the phone; seeing my favorite teacher holding my pink Hello Kitty phone was weird, but interesting. He arched an eyebrow. “What’s this?” he asked with a smirk. “You entered me as ‘Booty Call
.'”
I shrugged. “What? Are you offended you’re not
?”
“I’m offended because I’m not
.” He changed it to ‘Mr H,’ punched in his digits, and handed it over. “Happy now?”
I nodded and opened my car door. “Thanks, Mr H!” I sat down and looked over; I got a thrill as Little Scotty waved at me through his window, and I lowered mine for the final word. “I’ll call you if I ever need fifty-five dollars.”
I left him standing beside his truck.
* * *
Lyle certainly got his $55 worth that night. I rode his skinny dick for fifteen minutes straight, until he was sore and gibbering; he eventually blew into the condom as I gazed down in remorseless passion, wishing he was someone else.
* * *
On Thursday I arrived for 8:00; I usually started at 10, when things were well under way, but Stacie was trying to get me more hours. 8:00 was when the center opened, but early birds could pay a fee and drop their little urchins off at 6:30. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see that one of the two kids already there was Scotty Herrick. “How early does he show up?”
“Oh, Dad drops him off right at 6:30 and then heads right back out,” Lynette said. “Then Almiranta comes in at 7:45.”
“Really!” I thought about that. Could I possibly get up that early? “And you have to come open up?” Lynette rolled her eyes. She was a single mom, always with the bags under her eyes. “Oh, honey! I don’t mind coming in for 6:30. More hours, more better.”
She looked at me skeptically. “Aren’t they missing you over at Avery Road?” she asked pointedly. I hadn’t told her yet, but I’d just had Stacie put me in for a permanent transfer. “We won’t be shorthanded forever.”
“I gotta go where the hours are, Lynette. College tuition is kicking my ass.”
“Hmm.” She could understand that, but now she fixed me with an even stare. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Scotty’s dad, now would it?”
“Lynette!” I drew back and put my hand over my chest. “I’m shocked, shocked! Whatever are you implying?” She smiled a little ruefully.
“Just be careful, Vickie,” she sighed. “I’ll give you the key before you go home today and teach you how to do the alarm.”
* * *
I made sure I was there extra early on Friday, Lyle protesting as my alarm shrieked. I wanted to surprise Mr Herrick, so I parked around back. My outfit was risqué, by Bright Garden’s standards, but not terribly scandalous; he’d already seen my camel toe, so I thought I’d give him some variety today. I’d been a snappy but conservative dresser in high school, so I figured he would be excited to see my skin.
I’d put on ratty grey sweatpants, then rolled the waistband down my hips until my deep red thong arched out on the sides. I tied my shirt back up, the same tight green one from Wednesday, with the torn collar; I’d debated about which bra to wear, then decided to bring a normal one… in my bag. My naked waist curved neatly inward. No socks today; my feet were small and strong and shapely, and I’d just done my toenails. And I wanted to show off the moon tat on my right foot. My hair poked straight up from my red scrunchy, and I’d carefully avoided going overboard on the lipstick. He wore glasses, so I had mine on today as well; I knew they made me look older and more intelligent.
I was in and ready by 6:15, the alarm off and the lights on. I turned them way, way down; I’d sometimes opened early at Avery, and it kept the kids calmer while being easier on my early-morning brain. I thought about music; Stacie kept the sound systems in all the centers state of the art, but all they had were kids’ Escort Ankara CDs. I’d figure something out if this morning went well with Mr Herrick.
Lest you think I’m some sort of homewrecking slut, remember that I was a habitual flirt with long knowledge of this man. We’d spent hours together in high school; he’d taught me guitar, which was a pretty intimate thing to get into with him, given all the hand-touching and body positioning it had involved. I’d always had a crush on him, and I was enjoying getting to know him again; I was also young enough to be thrilled that he was flirting back. My intentions might not have been 100% honorable, necessarily, but I certainly had no wish to complicate his life. After all, I was a nice girl.
So I wasn’t really thinking anything would happen when the door tone went precisely at 6:29. I was around the corner, filling in some of the daily sheets, and I took a deep breath. Lynette had told me she usually met him at the door, as he always seemed to be in a hurry. I gave him a second to take in the lighting; I heard him taking off Little Scotty’s jacket. “Back here!” I called at last, twitching my sweatpants just that little bit lower.
I was intentionally sitting low on a kids’ chair, my butt facing the baby gate; he would be staring straight at my asscrack when he came up, the red thong shooting whimsically out of there. I was leaning forward with my elbows on my thighs, and I heard his footsteps come to a dead stop behind me; there was a slight hiss of indrawn breath. “Hello?” he said tentatively.
Slowly, I twisted my body until I was looking back at him. His eyes were glued to the bare skin of my lower back. I looked at him over my glasses. “Why good morning, Mr Herrick,” I purred. He was wearing his usual teacher clothes, khakis and a button-down shirt; he’d already loosened his tie. He looked gorgeous. I licked my lips. “Nice to see you again.”
He forced a smile, but those eyes lingered on my flesh. “Good morning yourself,” he said in a low voice; Little Scotty, oblivious, was wriggling through the baby gate and sprinting toward me. I worked quickly, getting the papers safely out of range before the kid bounced off the table, tumbling to the floor with a cheery laugh. I smiled indulgently, then I stood and turned to face his father.
Success! The eyes stayed right where they’d been, treated now to my hipbones jutting from the waistband, my flat stomach, the broad V of my muscles pointing the way under the front of my sweatpants. His eyes widened. “Thought I’d take a few mornings, maybe send you on your way with something to think about,” I said airily. He started, but I could see he was already recovering; the eyes flickered toward my bare shoulder before settling placidly on my face. Ha! No bra, sir.
“What am I supposed to think about?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
Me, fucking you, I almost said. I paused to let him think it, anyway. “Why, you can think about the professional and safe care we offer to all our customers, silly,” I said blandly. “And about the irony of one of your least favorite students taking care of your darling little lad.”
“Aww, Vickie,” he said, spreading his hands wide, “who told you you were my least favorite student? They were supposed to stay quiet about that.” His smile told a different story, though; I well knew he’d liked me then and liked me now, and I could tell he knew I liked him right back.
“Secrets always spread in this town, Mr Herrick,” I said sweetly. I came closer, so that I could whisper. “Good secrets, bad secrets…” I leaned way in, him unable to restrain his eyes from diving into my neckline, “all secrets.” I wondered if he could see my nipples; this was going farther than I’d thought it would. Such a fun man to tease! His eyes lingered once again, and I stayed close to let them.
I wondered whether he was getting hard.
Then I whirled away, breaking the spell, swinging my hips as I strolled over to play with Little Scotty. “I’ll take very good care of him, Mr Herrick,” I said casually over my shoulder. “No need to worry.”
He cleared his throat. “I’m not worried.” I shimmied to my knees and began crawling away toward Little Scotty, my ass on full display. Several seconds passed before I heard his footsteps shuffle away, and I smiled to myself. Something to think about.
* * *
I wasn’t working when Mr Herrick came to pick his son up, so it would be Monday morning before I saw him again. This was good; I needed the cooling-off period, and I assumed he did too.
Of course Lyle benefited from my new connection with Mr Herrick, which was ironic since I was starting not to like the boy. He’d always been lazy and a little selfish; I’d known from our second date that he wasn’t a long-term project, but he had a flexible schedule and a willing mouth, so I let him stick around. Now he was probably beginning to suspect something was up with me, as I was doing all the things the sex magazines said I was supposed to if I was becoming interested in someone else: I got very sexually needy, I started to watch what I ate, and I started keeping odd hours. And I once again started trimming Down Under, something I hadn’t bothered with in weeks.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Bir yanıt bırakın