AUTHORS NOTE:
This story contains descriptions of explicit lesbian sexual acts between high school teenagers and adults. If this type of content offends you or you are under the age of 18 do not read it.
This story is a work of fiction. The characters contained within do not refer to any actual persons either living or dead. The "Everson School for Girls" is a fictionalized place created solely for literary purposes and does not in any way refer to an actual school under the same name, whether wholly or in part.
Miss Johnson
Part IX -- The Deception
"Undress me, Miss Taylor."
The older woman's tone was friendly but commanding, and the expression on her face told Nicole the thirty eight year old English teacher wasn't kidding. Miss Johnson just stood there, looking down on Nicole with her hands on her hips, while Nicole assumed a look of bewildered puzzlement, not knowing quite what to do.
Miss Johnson pressed the issue. "Something the matter, Miss Taylor? Surely, you've disrobed yourself enough to know how without direction. This is exactly the same, only with someone else's clothes. Go ahead -- undress me."
Nicole's facial expression changed to one of embarrassment. "I...Um...," she started.
It was still somewhat amusing how Miss Johnson could still put Nicole off her guard, even after so many `lessons' like this one in weeks past. The teacher smiled and stepped forward, gently taking hold of Nicole's chin in her hand and lifting it up to her face. "If you wish to experience the pleasures of women," she went on, "then you must learn the art of disrobing your lover." Miss Johnson ran the back of her hand across Nicole's cheek. "Trust me, Miss Taylor - there is nothing sexier."
She then brought her hand down to Nicole's blouse, careful to brush past one of the teenager's breasts. She felt Nicole catch her breath before replacing her hand back on her hip.
"Undress me," she repeated, her tone bold and firm.
Nicole hesitated again, but only briefly, before reaching up and undoing the sash around Miss Johnson's neck. The teacher smiled again as she lifted her own chin to give Nicole better access to the top button. Nicole felt awkward as her trembling fingers continued to work, clumsily undoing the buttons on Miss Johnson's expensive French chemise, her own hands grazing past Miss Johnson's own well concealed but obviously sizeable bust.
The teachers at Everson wore very much the same clothing from class to class: White shirts, medium length black skirts, natural colored stockings, and black shoes. The intent was to be uniformed but elegant, showing a clear distinction between pupil and teacher. In Miss Johnson's case, her clothing fit her extremely well, showing just enough of her potent figure to suggest what lay underneath. Her shirt fit well but not snug, indicating a mere hint of the immenseness now beginning to show as Nicole reached the last button, pulling the shirt tails gently out of their confines around Miss Johnson's waste. The teenager then reached up and began slipping the blouse off Miss Johnson's shoulders.
"Not so fast," Miss Johnson offered her arms to Nicole. "Cufflinks?"
Nicole smiled embarrassingly, undoing the buttons that held the luxurious fabric snuggly around the teacher's wrists one at a time. Nicole then finished sliding the garment off Miss Johnson and put it on the nearby chair, leaving her face to face with the black lace brassiere that held the older woman's large breasts firmly in place. Nicole wasn't sure to reach around, or...
"Here," Miss Johnson offered with a smile, reaching behind her back. "I'll help you with this part."
She undid the clasp, gently eased the straps off her shoulders, and slipped the cups off from under. Her breasts were now exposed, her nipples seeming to stare directly at Nicole as she let her bra drop to the floor.
This was hardly the first time Nicole had seen Miss Johnson's magnificent shape; indeed, she had seen, stroked, suckled, and fondled the older woman's giant orbs many times on night's such as this one in recent weeks. But not until now had Nicole been "face to face" with Miss Johnson's womanhood long enough to truly admire the nearly perfect form in front of her.
Nicole just stood there and stared. Miss Johnson's body was without doubt a sensuousness work of art. Her breasts were as close to flawlessness as a woman's should be. They did not sag nor point away nor show any signs of age. They were just round and firm -- and very, very large. The wide areolas were awash with the gently familiar pink hue, surrounding the small, crinkled nipples in the center, a titillating contrast to the older woman's soft, supple skin that completed the sexy image. The sight was intoxicating, and Nicole couldn't help but lick her lips as she felt her teacher's massiveness beckoning to be feasted upon.
"Go ahead, my dear," Miss Johnson said sweetly.
Nicole looked the older woman in the eye, and the lusty gaze she saw left no doubt of what she should do next. She then reached out and took hold of Miss Johnson's breasts with both hands before lowering her head to the right one and gathering the hardening nipple in her mouth.
Miss Johnson smiled, surrounding Nicole's head and shoulders with her hands and arms. She held Nicole to her chest, softly stroking the teenager's hair as the young girl engorged herself. Nicole would gently flick the now hardened nipple with her tongue, then swirl it around in large, wet circles before sealing it off with her mouth and sucking hard. She used her hands to steady the heavy flesh, her right hand kneading Miss Johnson's unattended mound, squeezing and pressing the nipple with her thumb and fingers. Miss Johnson sighed in satisfaction. Her student was heeding her tutelage quite well.
The teacher then pulled Nicole's face up to her own and kissed her, moaning as her tongue probed deeply into Nicole's mouth. Nicole's hands began to reach around Miss Johnson's waist and return the embrace, but the older woman stopped her, guiding the teenager's hands instead to the small of her back and band holding up her skirt. Nicole's fingers found the buttons holding the band in place and fumbled to undue first one and then the other, then gently sliding the zipper down to loosen the article and let it fall to the floor, her mouth all the while engaged with wet kisses from the older woman's lips.
Miss Johnson then broke the kiss, her face reaching upwards to gasp her breath. Nicole continued using her lips on the older woman's neck before Miss Johnson gently pushed her head downward, lifting the other breast up to the young girl's face. Nicole feasted hungrily, sucking and gently biting the well hardened nipple while continually squeezing and fondling.
The teacher then smiled once again and pushed Nicole's head and shoulders gently downward, softly forcing Nicole to her knees in front of her. Nicole needed no prodding as she practically tore Miss Johnson's panties off her, exposing the moistened flesh beneath.
"Lick me, Miss Taylor," the older woman demanded in a throaty voice.
Nicole wasted no time, reaching out to kiss the puffy lips and run her tongue along the exposed slit. She found her teacher's clitoris and quickly surrounded it with her lips and tongue, kissing and sucking with powerful abandon as she sought to press her face more and more into the older woman's sopping pussy. Nicole reached around and took hold of Miss Johnson's ass cheeks, clutching them strongly to try and pull herself even closer.
"Oh, yes..." Miss Johnson smiled lustfully and gave off a soulful moan, a very strong orgasm approaching quickly. The older woman was completely taken in by the lovely vision in front of her, one she'd experienced on many occasions before this one but one that thus never failed to excite her. Miss Johnson closely coveted encounters such as these and took great pains to create them, which only added to her excitement. Now, she simply relished the sight of yet another sexually inexperienced teenager on her knees, worshiping the teacher's body and feasting away at her own sex like a feast sent from afar. That it was Nicole Taylor, one of her most anticipated and sought after conquests, heightened her pleasure even more. She reached out with her hand to clasp the bed post to steady herself, and used her other hand to take hold of the back of Nicole's head, holding her firm while Nicole continued eating her. She then lifted one leg over Nicole's shoulder to give the teenager better purchase. She continued to moan and voice encouragement and direction as the young girl serviced her, and the thoughts passing through her mind made her wild with anticipation of what would happen next after Nicole made her cum. She would slow fuck Nicole this evening, making it last for more than an hour, using her dildo to tease and torment her young charge. She would thrust in slowly, pressing her hips into Nicole with a strong circular motion, and then withdraw deliberately, until Nicole would beg for release. And even then, she would maintain a methodically slow and delicious rhythm, gently suckling on Nicole's breasts and softly stroking the young girl's own engorged clitoris to the point of torture, creating a series of mini climaxes that instead of satisfying would only heighten the teenager's need for discharge. Only when Nicole was well past the point of any coherent thought would the older woman finally fuck her senselessly, bringing about an immensely powerful orgasm from which Nicole would not recover until morning.
But those thoughts passed quickly. Instead, what occupied Miss Johnson's thoughts the most as she felt the first tremors of orgasm greet her own shuddering flesh was how much she would enjoy the sight of Nicole's wonderful mouth on Amanda Martin's scrumptious little muff.
Amanda just stood staring blankly out her dorm room window. The sky had long since darkened, and the pale light shown down by the quarter moon drew shadows and outlines on the surrounding landscape. The outside air was cold now, the last evidence of autumn having long since passed, leaving the Everson campus barren from the empty maples whose leaves would not return until the following spring. The season's first snowfall would blanket the countryside before long, and although Everson was not historically known for having severe winter weather, it was customary to expect a foot or so of snow to fall during the school year.
But none of those things occupied Amanda's thoughts. She just stood and stared, her mind consumed with the events of the not too distant past.
It had been exactly three months since Nicole's trysts with Miss Johnson had begun -- and the last time Amanda had exchanged anything beyond a civil word with her. The weeks since had passed with nary a word spoken between them, and the few exchanges that did occur were terse, brief, and strictly limited to homework assignments and other schoolwork related matters. It was an unfortunate break in faith that had developed into the saddest of circumstances: Two good friends, bonded as sisters in every way except by blood, inexorably torn apart by different sides of the same secret -- Nicole for obvious reasons, Amanda because she had no desire to know anything beyond what her own speculative and innuendo laden imagination told her to be true about what Nicole and Miss Johnson were up to. What made it worse was the unlikelihood of any kind of reconciliatory conclusion. The silence that divided them had grown from a firm wall into a vast chasm that neither dared breach without risking their own emotional peril.
That was, until yesterday.
"Are there any questions on problems seventeen through twenty two?"
The question had been posed from Miss Ryan, Everson's math teacher, to her currently engaged Algebra class. The weekly quiz that she gave without fail each Thursday was the topic of her discussion, taking time to answer specific questions as part of her customary post-quiz review. The inquiry went unanswered.
"No? No questions at all? Questions on the quiz as a whole? Alright, then...please pass your papers forward."
The quiz papers came forward from the back of the classroom, beginning with the last row where Nicole and Amanda were seated on the far left. Both had been there since classes started in September. Of course, a lot had changed since then. The girls sat together in almost every class as they had since school began, a natural circumstance that grew more awkward as time and events unfolded, and as the rift between the teenagers grew worse. Amanda had thought about getting another seat earlier in the year, but thought better of it. Doing so, she'd thought, might arouse suspicion with a faculty member, and the last thing she wanted was to be placed in a position where she'd either have to lie or come clean on what she thought was happening. Living with this state of affairs was hard enough, but because there was no `real' proof, there always stood the possibility that her suspicions were unfounded. If that turned out to be the case, levying false accusations of the magnitude she had long contemplated against a well respected teacher might prove to backfire right in her face, not to mention the irreparable harm it would do to Nicole's reputation. So, in the end, she decided it was best to just sit back, stay quiet, and see what happened, and that meant maintaining her seat next to Nicole - no matter how unpleasant it might have seemed.
In the momentary bustle that followed, Nicole turned to Amanda.
"Did you have a nice Thanksgiving?" she proffered earnestly.
She said it without even thinking about it, which may have explained how she was able to utter the inquiry in the first place. If she'd stopped to think about it, the fear of how Amanda might've responded would've been enough to stop her dead in her tracks. Why she chose now to offer an olive branch after so long was uncertain. Perhaps it was because she and Amanda had chosen to stay at Everson for Thanksgiving break that prompted her to speak up; neither of them wanted to go home and be forced to knowingly lie to their parents about what was going on. Both breathed a big sigh of relief when they learned that their Fathers were unavoidably required in Munich to negotiate terms of a new company labor agreement, and that they wouldn't return until the second week in December. Since their Mothers would accompany them, a Thanksgiving at home wasn't possible. So both Amanda and Nicole decided to take advantage of the schools policy allowing teachers to invite stranded students to share the holiday meal in their own homes. Nicole had spent the day with Miss Ryan, while Amanda went home with Miss Jenkins, the science and biology teacher. It was a strange experience, since both Amanda and Nicole's families made it a tradition to celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas together. But it was welcomed nonetheless. Both girls enjoyed the holiday in good company, and although it wasn't the same as it had been in the past, it was still a grateful diversion away from Everson and all its associated distractions.
The real reason, however, was much simpler, though Nicole would never admit it. She missed Amanda, and had reached the point where she would've been willing to do almost anything to bridge the unbridgeable gap that had kept them apart for so long.
But it didn't work. Amanda's reaction was both swift and harsh. The stare she shot back at Nicole was so full of anger it would've killed Nicole on the spot had it been deadly, as if Amanda was enraged simply because Nicole had dared to try to talk to her. Nicole saw the expression on her friend's face and quickly turned away, both sorry and sad that she ever opened her mouth.
"Alright, class, let's settle down. We have a lot of work to do before we begin reviewing for...Excuse me, Miss Taylor, are you alright?"
Amanda looked over at Nicole, who was still looking away to keep her face from view. "Yes, Miss Ryan, I'm fine." Her voice quivered slightly.
The teacher was concerned, but relented. "Very well, then. Class, we have little more than a week before mid-terms begin. Some of you will need to do very well in order to maintain a passing grade, so let's begin to..."
"Excuse me...Miss Ryan?" Nicole stood up suddenly. "I, um, changed my mind. I'm not feeling very well all of a sudden. May I please be excused to go to the infirmary?" Her voice was shaking much more now.
The teacher paused for a moment, just long enough for the look in Nicole's eyes to tell her that something was very wrong. "Class, pull out your textbooks and begin reading Chapter 10. Miss Taylor, step outside with me."
Nicole accompanied Miss Ryan out into the hallway, the teacher shutting the door behind her so she and Nicole could speak privately. Amanda tried to see outside but couldn't. After a few minutes, Miss Ryan opened the door and stepped back inside.
"Miss Martin, your dorm room is next to Miss Taylor's, is it not?"
"Yes, Miss Ryan."
"Very well. I want you to leave Miss Taylor's things here with me, and then pick them up at the end of the day and bring them back to her room."
"Is she alright?"
"I'm not exactly sure, but I'm sending her to the infirmary to have her looked after. She definitely seems upset about something. In any event, I do not think she will not be coming back to class today. Please return when the last bell rings so you can retrieve her belongings. Be sure to take note of any assignments she may have for any classes she misses for the rest of the day in case she doesn't return, including the midterm review we're about to go over."
"Yes, Miss Ryan."
Miss Ryan was right. Nicole didn't come back to class. She told the school nurse that she had been studying very hard to get ready for midterms and that she hadn't been sleeping well and was beginning to have headaches. The nurse swiftly sent her back to the dorm to get some rest, instructing her not to attend classes for the rest of the day as well as Friday, telling Nicole that it was probably just the strain that naturally comes with the end of the first semester, and that it was nothing to worry about. Of course, the nurse's opinion wasn't completely correct. It was true, Nicole wasn't sleeping -- especially on Friday nights -- but her schoolwork was hardly the reason.
Amanda knew why Nicole wasn't feeling well -- in part, at least. She felt somewhat responsible, and the thought made her feel very, very guilty.
Ever since that Friday night last September -- the night Nicole began her `tutoring' -- Amanda began distancing herself from her friend. She felt angry, betrayed, and, most of all, disgusted. She couldn't believe her best friend had allowed herself to become ensnared in such a vile and repulsive predicament, and she wanted no part of it in any way. Besides, there were other things to concern herself with. Nicole had hit the proverbial nail right on the head that very first day of class. Top grades from Everson were Amanda's ticket to an overseas academic fellowship in London or Paris, something she'd dreamed of since her sophomore year when her then history teacher first suggested the idea to Amanda. Amanda was still very much an eighteen year old, with not so much as a clue about what she wished to do with her life. Such an eye opening experience as studying abroad was sure to expose her to a number of endless possibilities. Opportunities in business, fashion, art -- they would all be accessible to her, and give her the chance to choose a path and sink herself into a career she could pursue with passion. That was Amanda's real dream: To make a living at something she loved.
And she had performed well at Everson. As midterms approached, she was the number one student in the senior class, with top grades in all her classes -- not bad for a nervous, homesick California girl who wasn't so sure she could adjust to her new surroundings. But more than that, she'd begun to make other friends, all on her own. One girl in particular, Tracy Higgins, a junior from New York City, shared Amanda's interest in classic rock music, an infection her father was to blame for. The two teenagers would spend hours together on the weekends listening to British rock from the sixties and early seventies. It made life a little more bearable, helping Amanda to come out of her shell and give her confidence that she could meet and befriend others without help from anyone else.
As healthy as it seemed, it was what bothered Amanda the most. Moving on with her own life meant leaving Nicole further and further behind, and that made Amanda very sad. She and Nicole had been through so much together, the two having been virtually joined at the hip since they were thirteen years old. Going through adolescence, handling school, breakups with boyfriends, shopping on weekends, trips, holidays -- all were experiences they shared growing up. They literally were more like sisters than friends, which things between them that much more difficult, because they had always been there for each other...
...until now...
Dealing with that particular byproduct of this whole sordid affair was one thing, but what happened the previous day was the last straw. Amanda knew it took an awful lot to make Niki cry -- and that's exactly what her discordant glare produced in class. It's the reason why she couldn't see Nicole's face; Niki had turned in the other direction so Amanda couldn't see her eyes as they filled with tears -- tears Amanda knew she had caused. Not on purpose, mind you. Amanda's reaction was as defensive as it was automatic, a creation of having tolerated this hideousness for so many weeks. What she hadn't counted on was the innocence of Niki's question, as well as the earnestness in it's presentation. Nor had Amanda bothered to notice how frail and vulnerable Niki had become, evidenced in the severity of her reaction to Amanda's callousness. So caught up was Amanda in her own resentment and pettiness that she had clearly forgotten that Niki was as much a victim as she was a willing participant.
Amanda made up her mind. It was time to put an end to it -- all of it. Her friend needed her, even if she didn't understand. It was time to repair a bound that had held so strong for so long, and heal a wound that at its most fundamental essence was born of envy. Nicole had been right all along, something that Amanda had not been ready to admit to herself until now. She was jealous -- not because Miss Johnson was fucking her best friend, but because she chose her best friend. Over her. No more.
She calmly left the window, went over, opened the door, and stepped out into the hallway. She turned in the direction of Nicole's room -- and gasped quite loudly as she came almost face to face with Miss Johnson.
"Why, good evening, Miss Martin!" Miss Johnson greeted her in a pleasant voice.
"Miss Johnson!" Nicole's exclaimed.
"Are you alright, my dear? You're positively white."
"Yes, Miss Johnson." Amanda's attempt at sidestepping the truth wasn't very convincing. Seeing one of her teachers roaming around the dormitory at 9:30 at night was the last thing she expected. The fact that it was Miss Johnson made it all the more startling. "I'm fine. You just caught me by surprise."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you," Miss Johnson returned the lie. "I came to check up on Miss Taylor, and find out why she wasn't in class. I was told she wasn't feeling very well. Is this true?"
"Yes, Miss Ryan sent her to the infirmary yesterday. She hasn't been in class since."
"Do you know what's wrong?"
"No, not exactly. I haven't seen or talked to her since Algebra class yesterday."
Miss Johnson raised an eyebrow. "You haven't? I thought the two of you were inseparable."
Amanda suddenly felt very uncomfortable. "Yes, well, we haven't exactly been on good speaking terms lately."
"Did you have a fight of some sort?"
"More like a disagreement -- it's hard to explain."
"Is there something I can do to help?"
`Yeah -- stop fucking my best friend!' Amanda thought to herself. "Not really. Forgive me, Miss Johnson, I don't mean any disrespect, but it's personal. Niki and I need to talk and work it out between us."
"Hmmm," the teacher mused. "Alright, Miss Martin, as you wish. But should you change your mind and wish to have a heart to heart, I am always available. It would be a shame to see such a formidable friendship such as yours and Miss Taylor's fall by the wayside. Miss Taylor speaks very highly of you, and that's something you shouldn't take lightly. I've observed the two of you very closely in my classroom, and I can see why she would find your camaraderie to be valuable." The older woman felt confident she alone understood the double meaning she intended.
"I appreciate that, Miss Johnson. Thank you."
"Good." Miss Johnson smiled sweetly. A long pause followed, the two women looking directly at each other. While Amanda seemed a little nervous, Miss Johnson felt totally at ease in control, and couldn't help thinking the teenager had no clue of what the older woman had in store for her.
"Was there something else?" the teacher asked.
"Oh...uh, no...I was just, uh...on my way to the bathroom!"
"Very well, then. I'd better check on Miss Taylor before it gets too late. Have yourself a pleasant weekend, Miss Martin. And remember -- less than two weeks until midterms, so try not to shop too much and get some extra study time in. See you on Monday."
"Yes, thank you, Miss Johnson -- good night!"
The bathroom was down the hall and on the left, across from Nicole's and Amanda's rooms. Amanda walked down quickly and went inside. She stopped the door just short of closing completely, leaving a small crack where she felt certain she could observe what was happening without being discovered. Her heart was pounding like a jackhammer as she watched Miss Johnson knock on Niki's door. It opened a moment later, and Amanda saw Niki appear in the doorway dressed in her pajamas. Her expression changed to one of shock at the sight of her unexpected guest.
"Miss Johnson?"
"Good evening, Miss Taylor."
Nicole looked nervously down both ends of the hallway. "What are you doing here?"
"May I come in?"
Nicole hesitated, then stepped aside and let the teacher in, shutting the door behind her.
The loud `click' of the deadbolt on Nicole's door as it closed sent a shiver down Amanda's spine, sending her thoughts racing and her imagination into overdrive. What business could a teacher like Miss Johnson have that would bring her to the dorm -- and to a student's room -- this late on a Friday night?
Amanda wanted to bolt down the hall but fought off the urge, careful instead not to make a lot of noise as she quickly made her way back towards Nicole's room. She leaned close and pressed her ear against the door, determined to hear any conversation that was going on inside. She did hear Nicole and Miss Johnson talking, but the thick door prevented her from making out what they were saying. Amanda then heard footsteps on the stairwell and realized someone was approaching, forcing her to retreat back to her own room.
This was unbelievable, Amanda thought. What the hell was Miss Johnson doing here? Nicole didn't believe for a second that her presence here in the dorm had anything to do with concern for Nicole's health, which left...
No. She wouldn't dare. Not here. Not in the dorm!!!
Amanda pressed her ear up to the wall that separated her room from Nicole's, but the concrete cinder blocks muffled the sound in between even more than the door. Amanda could barely make out any conversation at all. Her mind was scrambling. She had to find out what was going on.
Then, an idea struck -- a very simple but modestly brilliant idea. Or, at least, so Amanda thought. She quickly undressed and put on her bathrobe and slippers as if getting ready to take a shower. Then, putting a towel over her shoulder and grabbing her shower kit, Amanda went back out into the hall and stopped in front of Nicole's door. She bravely took a deep breath, knocked quickly and opened the door -- and walked right in on Nicole and Miss Johnson seated on the bed talking to each other, both fully clothed and very startled by Amanda's sudden entrance.
Amanda froze in her tracks. "I...um..."
"Goodness gracious, Miss Martin!" Miss Johnson exclaimed. "You nearly scared us both to death. Are you alright?"
Amanda was caught off guard. Her sudden brilliant idea hadn't worked out the way it was supposed to. "Yes...Um...I was just..."
"What is it, Amanda?" Nicole's tone was flat.
Amanda looked right at Nicole, and all of a sudden was filled with shame. "I...was just hoping to borrow some of that shampoo...you know..."
Nicole got up and walked over to her closet, and walked over to Amanda with a blue shampoo bottle.
"You mean this one -- the good shampoo, from that spa in Tahoe we went to last year, right?"
Amanda almost smiled. "Yeah, that's it. I ran out. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to just barge in." The lie was as heartfelt as it was sincere.
"It's Ok. You can keep that. I've got another bottle."
"Thanks." The two girls exchanged looks of longing - for times and places past, and for the company of absent friends as well as each other.
Miss Johnson observed carefully before interjecting. "Are you sure you're alright, Miss Martin?"
Amanda's guard went up before answering the older woman. "Yes, Miss Johnson, I'm fine. I'm just tired. I'm going to shower & turn in early tonight."
"That sounds like an excellent idea," the teacher agreed. "Good night, Miss Martin. I'm sure with a good night's rest, you'll feel right as rain in the morning."
"Yes, I think so, too. Good night."
"Good night, Mandy," Nicole offered.
Amanda stopped dead. It was the first time Nicole had called her Mandy in weeks, and it made her smile. "Good night."
Nicole closed the door, leaving a very embarrassed and equally ashamed Amanda Martin standing alone in the hallway to reflect on how much of a jackass she had just made herself look like.
Amanda couldn't believe what she had just done, or how ridiculous she must've seemed. It appeared to be a good idea when she first thought of it -- barge quickly into Nicole's room with very little warning pretending to need something for a shower, and hopefully catch Miss Johnson making some sort of illicit sexual advance on Nicole. Instead, all she managed to do was scare her best friend and her English teacher, making herself look like an idiot in the process.
Amanda leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, and sighed. Whatever was going on between Miss Johnson and Nicole was doing such a good job of tying Amanda up in knots that she was now beginning to act foolishly. It was enough. No matter what it was, it was between Nicole and Miss Johnson -- not her. If Nicole wanted her to help, her room was right next door. In the meantime, Amanda needed to take care of herself and worry about the things going on in her own life, and that meant not loosing focus on school and other things. Besides, there was still always the possibility that Nicole's and Miss Johnson's relationship was strictly academic in nature, and that there was nothing else unseemly going on. Before her clumsy attempt at being a detective, Amanda would have placed serious doubt on any possibility that Nicole was visiting Miss Johnson at her home just to better her grades. But now...
Amanda shrugged. There was no use trying to make any more sense of it than she already had. It was late, and she was tired -- and a shower did seem like a good idea. She walked down the hall towards the bathroom, looking forward to a steady stream of hot water that she hoped would help her sleep. But Amanda would barely sleep tonight, for even as she walked into the shower and started the water running, Miss Johnson was getting ready to permanently erase whatever doubts Amanda had left.
"Now what on earth was THAT was all about?" Miss Johnson asked.
Nicole just stood and stared at the door. "She knows, Miss Johnson."
The older woman temporized. "She knows?"
Nicole caught herself for a moment before speaking the words aloud. "She knows that you're fucking me."
"Really?" Miss Johnson feigned astonishment was meant to be humorous. "You told her?"
"No."
"Then how do you know that she..."
"Because she's smart," Nicole said. "A lot smarter than I ever gave her credit for."
"You mean she `suspects'," Miss Johnson responded. "Suspicion is a far cry from actual knowing, Miss Taylor. You're smart enough to know the difference, aren't you?"
Nicole turned and looked at her teacher. The words `give me a break' could've been tattooed to her forehead to describe the look on her face. "She was the one who warned me about you. She was the one who first told me you were a lesbian."
Miss Johnson folded her arms, her own expression beaming with understanding. "So that's what was bothering her."
Nicole gave Miss Johnson a curious look. "What do you mean?"
"I ran into Miss Martin in the hallway just now, right before I knocked on your door."
"You spoke to her?" Nicole's eyes went wide instantly, her curiosity starving for weeks to know anything about her friend. "What did she say?"
"Only that the two of you were having difficulties. She wouldn't elaborate any more than that." Nicole turned away. The older woman paused briefly before continuing on. "Miss Taylor, Miss Martin's behavior tonight, along with the fact that barely more than a sentence has passed between the two of you in recent weeks -- am I to understand that this is all on account of me?"
"How did you know we weren't speaking?"
"Oh, come now, Miss Taylor. Do you think me so dumb as to not be able to notice when two good friends such as you and Miss Martin aren't talking? The two of you were a regular pair of chatty Cathy's every time you walked in my classroom that whole first week last September. After that, it was as if you didn't even know each other."
Nicole's voice became flat as she spoke, and her face was sullen. "Amanda tried to warn me. She knew about you before I did, tried to keep me from meeting you in your classroom that first day. She knew, but -- I didn't believe her. Then, the morning after..." Nicole stopped short of describing the fight between her and Amanda that morning.
Miss Johnson went on. "Her bursting in here so suddenly - she was expecting to find the two of us having sex, wasn't she?"
Nicole gave Miss Johnson a sharp look, her stomach tightening at the idea of her teacher's possible suggestion.
"Relax, Miss Taylor," Miss Johnson went on. "I wouldn't dream of enticing you when it is clear that you are not feeling well. Besides, a student's dormitory room isn't exactly a private environment for our activities, is it?"
Nicole closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh, taking relief in the lie that wouldn't remain a lie for long.
"Still, her behavior is somewhat peculiar," the teacher continued, "though perfectly understandable under the circumstances. All things being equal, I'm not sure how I would react knowing my teacher was fucking my best friend." The last sentence made Nicole almost sick to her stomach, still not quite having come to grips with what she and Miss Johnson had been going together for the better part of three months. "One thing, though...How is it exactly that Miss Martin `knew' about me?"
"One of the other girls in our quad told her."
"I see." This didn't exactly please the older woman. Miss Johnson relied heavily on keeping her sexual interests a secret. The knowledge that she may have been compromised was definite cause for concern. But that would be dealt with later. The conversation switched again. "Miss Taylor, I'm starting to sense some apprehension, perhaps even remorse. Are you having doubts about what you and I have done together these past months?"
Nicole looked at the floor and said nothing.
"There's nothing to be ashamed about," the teacher went on. "I have simply introduced you to the realm of womanly pleasures -- nothing more. You and I have merely participated in a first hand exploration of female sexuality, something I consider essential to young ladies like yourself -- with the proper guidance, of course. Are you feeling guilty about being a part of such an adventure?"
"Yes," Nicole responded immediately without thinking. She then looked at Miss Johnson, who gave her a look of surprise with raised eyebrows. "I mean...no...I don't know..."
The older woman shrugged. "Well, this is all very interesting, but nothing that can't wait for another time. Right now, you need your rest. You missed quite a bit of work in class these past two days, Miss Taylor, particularly with regard to the upcoming midterm exam. Have you made arrangements to retrieve and go over the material from one of your classmates?"
Nicole shook her head, grateful for the opportunity to talk about something else. "I haven't spoken with anyone from class yet. Amanda left my bookbag by my door yesterday along with a list of assignments from the classes I missed, but I haven't gone over anything for the midterm yet. That's what I was planning for the weekend."
"Very well, then," Miss Johnson started for the door. "I shan't keep you a moment longer. If you wish, you may come to my house tomorrow afternoon, and I will be more than happy to go over what we discussed in class. Goodnight, Miss..."
"Wait," Nicole interrupted. "Is there any chance we can go over it now?"
"Miss Taylor, you've had a very stressful two days. I think it would be better if you got some rest and picked things tomorrow."
"Miss Johnson, tomorrow's supposed to be very cold. I appreciate that you're willing to give up a Saturday to help me, but it takes a good forty give minutes to walk to your house, and..."
"Ah, yes, of course. Forgive me for not taking that into account." The teacher had anticipated this, having known the next day's weather before she made her visit to Nicole's room. Nicole's answer was the one she had hoped for, but she had to be careful to maintain the subterfuge to keep Nicole off her guard. It was the only way for her not to see what would happen next. "Are you sure you feel up to it?"
"Yes. It shouldn't take very long, should it?"
"No. I think twenty or thirty minutes at the outside should be sufficient. Where's your text book?"
Nicole went to retrieve her book from her bag lying on the desk nearby. As she turned her back to Miss Johnson, the older woman came up behind her quickly, slipping her own arms underneath the teenager's and pulling her against her breasts. Nicole gasped as she felt Miss Johnson's hands take firm hold of her own mounds, giving them a hard squeeze.
"Shhh," Miss Johnson quickly whispered. "Don't cry out, Miss Taylor."
Nicole just stood there rigidly, too surprised to react or even breath. She felt Miss Johnson's fulsome bosom pressing against her back as the teacher began massaging her.
"You said we wouldn't..."
The older woman cut her off with a smile. "I lied," she whispered again.
"We can't," Nicole protested weakly. "Someone will hear us."
"Yes," Miss Johnson replied. "Exciting, isn't it."
She moved one of her hands down in between Nicole's legs, cupping and gently rubbing the young girl's pussy through her pajama bottoms.
"We...can't..."
Miss Johnson smiled again, pleased that Nicole was surrendering so quickly. She leaned in close and kissed Nicole gently on the cheek. "Just relax, my dear," she whispered hotly in Nicole's ear. "I think I know exactly what you need to help you feel better." The hand that was kneading Nicole's pussy was now undoing the tie around her pajama bottoms. "Besides, Miss Martin was expecting us to be engaged. We wouldn't want to disappoint her, would we?"
Nicole wanted to fight, to tell Miss Johnson `no'. Not here. Amanda would hear everything - every sigh, every pant, every cry and moan, and it was absolutely the last thing Nicole wanted to have happen. But as she felt Miss Johnson's lips begin to softly kiss the nape of her neck, and then the older woman's fingertips delicately slipping inside the elastic band holding up her quickly moistening panties...
...Nicole just couldn't stop herself...
Amanda just stood silently with her eyes closed, the hot water from the shower head above gently massaging her face and head. The heat from the water and the surrounding steam gave her skin a subtle pink hue that made her body almost seem to glow through the watery sheen.
Amanda was less buxom than Nicole. Where Nicole's frame was athletic, Amanda's was lither in composition. She was taller than Nicole, and thinner, with long legs that carried upwards to her gently shaped buttocks. Her own pear shaped breasts were not as big as Nicole's, but were well shaped, and served to accentuate the rest of her delicate form. Amanda had never been what one would call an athlete, though she did cheerlead with Nicole back in California and compete on the high school gymnastic team, but whatever physical abilities she lacked her body more than made up for in elegance and grace. She was by all accounts simply a very pretty young lady, showing a glimpse of the beautiful woman she was sure to become in the years ahead.
Amanda continued standing under the soothing stream, running her fingers through her shoulder length black hair, until she decided she'd soaked enough and turn the water off. She walked over to the shower benches, pulled her towel down off the hook she'd left it on, and dried herself off before reaching for her bathrobe and slippers. She then took out a comb from her shower kit and moved to one of the sinks with a mirror to comb the rest of the water out of her hair.
As she stood watching herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but think of what a fool she'd been, bursting in on Niki like that. That she'd been well-intentioned didn't provide much comfort since all she did was wind up looking nosy and stupid. Finally, she just stood staring at herself and shaking her head. "This has to stop," she said out loud.
She gathered up her things and walked out of the bathroom, heading straight for Nicole's room, determined to finish what she hadn't yet started and make things right between her and Niki again. When she got to Nicole's door, she reached up with her hand to give a knock -- and stopped dead in her tracks, her heartbeat and breathing suddenly suspended from their regular automaticity as the first waves of a strange sound from inside Nicole's room reached her ears.
What she heard through the door wasn't exactly clear at first. The sound was raspy and rhythmic. It took a moment, but Amanda recognized it as the sound of someone breathing -- slow, heavy, and very labored. Then came the sound of a low, deep moan. Amanda gasped instinctively, her hand reaching to cover her mouth quickly and silence the sudden noise. Then came a second moan, much louder this time, and that was enough to turn Amanda's shock into inconceivable anguish as she instantly recognized the voice as Nicole's. Amanda obviously couldn't see behind the door, but didn't need to. She knew what was happening, and the thought was enough to make her stomach turn -- Nicole and Miss Johnson were fucking.
Amanda closed her eyes and shook her head. She couldn't believe it -- and here she was, coming back to apologize for being mistaken!!!
Amanda just stood there frozen, unable to move, not knowing what to do, continuing to listen through the door as Nicole's heavy breathing soon turned to panting. Then, another sound intoned itself, one that instantly made Amanda's heart sink even more. It was the sound of Miss Johnson's voice. She was saying something, though Amanda couldn't make out exactly what. The teacher's voice was little more than a whisper, low and throaty. Whatever she was saying was obviously for Nicole's ears and no one else's -- and Nicole was responding, breathless replies of "Yea" and "Yes" radiating and clearly discernable through the wooden entrance.
All she could do was listen to the rapturous chorus coming from inside. Nicole moaned even louder, followed by more of Miss Johnson's murmuring. Amanda's eyes began to swell with tears.
The sound of footsteps coming up the stair snapped Amanda out of her fear ridden despair, and she quickly went to her own room, silently closing the door behind her. Nicole's cries of passion were easily discernable through the concrete cinders. Amanda wanted to put her hands to her ears and block out the noise but couldn't, her own incredulity paralyzing her limbs as she listened to Nicole give off a long, loud moan signaling her pleasure.
Then, silence. As fast as Amanda had discovered it, the noises stopped. Amanda quickly got up and went over to her door, cracking it open slightly so that she could see down the hallway in relative concealment. She heard Nicole's door opening, then saw Miss Johnson once again step out into the hallway. Amanda momentarily backed away so Miss Johnson couldn't see her, then peeked outside again to see the teacher walking back down the hall towards the stairs. Amanda closed the door, resting her head on the heavy wooden barrier and closing her eyes, still in shock at what she'd laid witness to during the past several minutes.
And while Amanda was left to ponder what had happened, Miss Johnson looked back towards Amanda's room and smiled her seductive and ever confident smile. She'd known Amanda was listening all along -- and couldn't be happier because of it. Once again, everything was proceeding exactly as she planned. She savored the taste of Nicole's juices on her fingertips as she made her way towards the stairwell.