For Shelley

Kimberley could feel the warmth of the late afternoon sunshine seep through the windows and flow through the soft cotton of her pale yellow summer dress. Warm weather like this wasn't unusual for late May, but it had come unexpectedly and she had had to dig deep in her closet to find something light enough to be comfortable. She looked south into the courtyard of the elementary school, her school, and her home away from home. The sunflowers that her kindergartners had planted several weeks ago were sprouting up nicely, but her thoughts were far from the flowers and her students.

All she could think of was the man she would be meeting in a few minutes, the father of one of her students, the man whose dark eyes and gentle hands kept her trembling with anticipation. But it was a sad anticipation since he was older with growing children and a house, and a full time job, and would never have time for her. She brushed her long auburn hair back from her face and wished she had taken the time to put it up since it was so hot this day. Her hand drifted down her soft warm cheek and neck to her chest, pausing on her breast that felt warm and full and heavy. Her nipple grew taut and pressed against her palm through the thin lace of her bra and the soft cotton of her dress. Her fingertips flirted with the open neckline, teasing the soft pale flesh beneath. Although she had undone the top button earlier because of the heat, the cut of the dress was modest enough for her to appear prim and proper on the outside when on the inside she was aflame with desire.

Her fingertips lingered in the warm valley between her breasts as she thought of this man. From the first time she had seen him in the fall through months that followed she had grown attached to him, hardly able to wait until she could see him the next time. It had been so long since she had felt this way about anyone, and of course with her luck it would have to be a nearly impossible situation. But he would soon be here in her neat tidy room with the brightly decorated bulletin boards, and the miniature tables and chairs, and the freshly cleaned chalkboard. She was determined to make the most of this last chance, not like the other times when he had been close enough to her that she could feel his breath and sense his heartbeat and her mind had grown dumb and her lips had fallen mute. She closed her bright green eyes for a moment and was quickly lost in a mystical reverie.

* * *

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It was back in the early fall, just after the start of the school year. Kimberley had gotten her students in and seated at their tables and was just easing into the reading lesson when there was a knock at the door. She wasn't sure whom to expect since it was too early for attendance sheets. When she opened the door, standing outside was a tall man dressed in an expensive golf shirt and crisp khaki slacks. His head was bowed, almost like one of her students who had been caught doing something bad. But when he raised his head, his dark hair and dark eyes startled her. He had the most interesting face, nice-looking but not in a pretty boy fashion, more Harrison Ford than Tom Cruise.

"I'm sorry we're so late," he said, his deep voice dripping with apology. "But we had a little trouble over breakfast this morning."

Standing beside him was little Martin Rousseau, one of her students, whom she hadn't even noticed was missing.

"Why that's okay," she replied, waving her hand to invite Martin inside. "You must be Martin's father."

"Guilty as charged," he replied with a most disarming smile that sent a warm shiver down her spine. "And you must be Miss Maguire." He held out his hand, perhaps out of habit. As she placed her hand in his, he squeezed it ever so gently. "I'm Paul Rousseau. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," she said unable to let go of his hand or to let her eyes drift away from the warm look in his. "Very nice to meet you."

Martin scampered in to hang up his backpack and join his friends as Kimberley lingered at the doorway shaking hands with the most striking man she had met in ages.

"Well, I, uh," he said, with the most incredible smile as he tried to retrieve his hand. "I had better be going."

"Oh, yes," she replied, finally letting her hand slip away. "Well, have a very nice day!"

She couldn't take her eyes from him as he nodded, turned and started down the hall. Tall and broad shouldered with a narrow waist and hips and the cutest buns she had ever seen wiggle by in a pair of khakis. She took a deep breath and felt her heart hammering away. Jesus Christ! Have a nice day? God, is that all you can say Kimberley Ann, she said to herself. Have a nice fucking day? A loud crash from the classroom brought her back to reality just as he disappeared through the double doors. Although she threw herself back into the classroom to get things back on track, she found herself pausing several times during the day, remembering the dark hair with the errant lock that curled over his forehead, the deep dark eyes that kept shining her way, the soft warm handshake, the very thought of which sent another round of shivers through her body.

* * *

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Later in the fall came their first real face-to-face meeting when he was scheduled for a parent teacher conference. She remembered being so excited when the handwritten note arrived via Martin requesting a late appointment. The strong definitive handwriting would have to be his. She made sure to give him his preference even if it meant asking three other parents to shift their times.

"Hello," came the voice and a little knock on the door.

Relax, Kimberley Ann, she repeated to herself again and again. Be cool, be smooth, and remember that you're the one in charge. She looked up toward the door and saw him leaning in, a sweet little boy smile on his face. He shook the rain off the collar of his overcoat and stepped inside. He was wearing a dark suit with a finely tailored blue shirt and a bright tastefully patterned tie.

"Mr. Rousseau, you're here!" she said.

"Yeah, I'm not late am I?"

"No, not really. Come in and have a seat."

He looked awkward sitting in the chair beside her desk since it was smaller than the typical office chair.

"Well, first of all, let me say what a pleasure it is to have you in my class everyday," she began.

"Beg your pardon?" he said with a confused look on his face.

"Oh, Martin. To have Martin in my classroom every day. I'm sorry. You two bear a strong resemblance."

"Chip off the old block they say," he replied with that disarming smile that Kimberley was finding a definite distraction.

"Anyway, I've prepared a chart for you that shows Martin's progress and how he has been doing lately."

She watched as he took the chart and looked it over intently, his dark eyes drinking up every detail.

"He does really well with numbers and science topics. He does need some extra work in English and handwriting. He seems to be lagging behind some of the others in those subjects."

"Is there anything I can do?" Paul asked, his eyes gazing into hers for the answer.

"Oh, yes there is so much that you can do," Kimberley answered slowly, distracted by the look in his eyes. "For Martin. Yes, for Martin. He's a very charming boy and a joy to have in class. He loves to laugh and play and is very popular with his classmates."

She sat looking at the father who looked back to the progress chart. She began to have strange thoughts about this man, strange, wonderful thoughts. She felt the need to say something, but paused before she told him what she was actually thinking, about how she wanted to throw herself across the desk and into his arms. Instead she tried to concentrate on young Martin.

"I would suggest that you spend some extra time reading to him, perhaps practicing his writing. Maybe try to get him to write complete words instead of just the same letter over and over. Simple words, words that he knows and uses frequently so that he begins to link the letters with how they form words."

He broke into another great smile.

"Finding extra time is hard to do, Miss Maguire," he said. "You're probably not aware of our situation. As a single parent it's hard to keep everything together. With his older sister and a business to run there isn't a lot of spare time to spend."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ... ," she said feeling dumb, but he raised a hand up and interrupted.

"But I'm committed to doing whatever needs to be done. You don't need to apologize, Miss Maguire. I've kind of thought that Marty needed some extra attention in his studies. His sister tries to help, but I've suspected that there's more I could do. I couldn't manage preschool for him so this has been a big step for him. I'll work closer with him."

Kimberley didn't know what to say in return. There was something about him that was driving her crazy. Her body was quivering with every syllable from his deep voice. And when he smiled, she thought her heart would melt. Relax, Kimberley, she thought. This is your turf. You're the one in charge.

"I have a nice little booklet that I can send home with you if you'd like," she said. When he nodded, she got up and stepped over to her filing cabinet. She was quite aware of his eyes following her movements. As she bent over slightly to pull the middle drawer open, she remembered that her dress had a little slit up the back and figured that she was probably giving him a nice glimpse of her legs. So she took a few extra moments looking for the booklet that was right in front of her. But then with my luck he'll be a boob man, she thought, and when she pulled out the booklet and turned around, she realized that he wasn't even looking in her direction.

"Here you go," she said handing him the parent's guide. "I think you'll find some nice suggestions for things that you can try at home."

"Thank you," he said taking the book and flipping thorough the pages. "This will help a lot. Thanks."

She paused standing beside him, her pulse racing. She wanted to say something to him. She wanted to confess how she had picked out this dress especially because her friends had all told her how terrific she looked in it and because she knew that he would be coming to see her today. She wanted to tell him how she felt when he looked her way. There were other things that she wanted to say to him, things that she had never told anyone before. But she didn't. She could only stand beside him and smile and wait for a sign from him. Hell, she would have let him take her right there, right then if he had tried, the thought of which produced a dampness between her legs.

"Well then," he said. "Is there anything else?"

"No, nothing special. Nothing else really."

He stood up beside her, very close to her, and took her hand in his. Her hand felt so small inside his.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Rousseau. If you ever need to contact me, my phone number and email are in the school directory we sent home last week."

"I'll be sure to do that," he replied.

With a nod and another of his stunning smiles, he turned and walked away. She followed in his wake to the door and could smell the scent of his cologne. Pierre Cardin, maybe? Kimberley Ann, what are you doing, she asked herself. All right, he is nice-looking, but you've met good-looking men before and they never had this effect. She could feel her nipples stiffen up and rub against the cups of her bra and the dampness between her legs could not be denied. She brought a hand up to the side of her face and rubbed her temple. He's got to be ten or fifteen years older with children and a mortgage and a business and he couldn't possibly be interested in her. She took a deep breath and went back to her desk, slipped her folder of notes and some papers into her briefcase, and snapped it shut. Forget him Kimberley Ann, she thought. You'll never have a man like that.

* * *

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Then came a couple of brief brushes with Mr. Rousseau in the weeks following. Once he had to pick up Martin early for a doctor's appointment and she decided to walk him down to the office while her teaching assistant finished the lesson. Paul had stepped out of the office to meet them in the hall when he saw them coming.

"Ready to go champ?" he asked Martin, rubbing his boy on the head.

While Martin nodded, Kimberley helped slip on his backpack.

"All set and ready to go," she said proudly.

"Thanks," Paul replied.

The curly lock of hair had fallen onto his forehead and she wanted to reach up and brush it away for him, but he reached up to do it himself and she bit her lip. What was it about this man that makes my brain turn to mush, she asked herself. Damn! She could only send them off with a weak little wave. I am so stupid, she thought to herself, getting all worked up over this attractive man who hardly knows I exist. She quickly walked back to her class trying to put it all out of her mind.

A week or so later she had gotten to school a bit later than usual. The kids were lining up at the outside door waiting for the bell to ring. Small groups of parents were gathered about chatting. Standing by the door talking animatedly with Allison Chambers' mother was Mr. Rousseau. Out of the corner of her eye as she breezed past, she could see him look her way and smile with a polite little nod.

"Good morning," he called out to her.

"Morning," she replied.

Since she was so late, she wanted to get inside quickly, but she paused for a moment. He kept smiling at her and nodded again in her direction. What to say, she asked herself. Nice day isn't it? Have a nice day? As her mind drew a blank, his smile disappeared, but the look remained. She finally turned away and hustled inside. Maybe he does know who I am, she thought to herself. The rest of the day she felt so distracted each time she remembered the look in his dark eyes and the tingle that swept through her body.

* * *

On the last Friday night before the Christmas holiday break, the PTA sponsored a carnival in the gymnasium. Parents and teachers alike signed up to run the various games and booths for the entertainment of the children and to help raise money for some special projects later in the year. Her friend Linda who taught second grade had talked her into volunteering.

"What else are you going to do that night?" Linda had said.

Yeah, right. What else, she had thought. A big bowl of popcorn and the latest DVD release was losing its charm she had to admit. So the two of them had signed up for the miniature tabletop bowling game. After the school day was over, she changed into a pair of jeans and a favorite sweater and helped with setting up and decorating the gym. Afterwards, she spent a few extra minutes in the bathroom putting up her hair to keep it out of her face and touching up her makeup.

The carnival started at six o'clock and it seemed like every one showed up at the same time. It was a wild and fun-filled madhouse as the kids and parents bought tickets and lined up to play the games. She and Linda were among the busiest, taking turns collecting tickets, setting pins, and handing out tokens to the winners. Kevin the gym teacher was next to them running a shooting gallery game and was hardly able to keep up.

"What's the matter, Kev? Getting old?" Linda chided.

"My helper hasn't shown up yet," Kevin replied "I hope he gets here soon."

After another flurry of contestants, she looked over to see Paul hustle up and join Kevin next door.

"Sorry, man," he told Kevin apologetically.

Kevin wasted no time putting him to work. At first, Kimberley was able to concentrate on running her game, but soon found herself sneaking little glances at her neighbor. He had the most wonderful laugh and was great at helping the kids get a better score. At one point little Martin and his big sister, a tall slim dark-haired girl, came up and asked their Dad for some more money for a soda and hot dog. She loved the way he acted around them, so devoted and protective.

"Cute kids," she shouted over to him.

"Thanks," he answered.

During another rush, she was busy resetting the bowling game and felt her hair slip out of the pins holding it up. She brushed it away from her cheek, but it fell back. After getting the game ready, she turned to the side, pulled the bobby pin from her hair and tossed her head back. She raised both arms up and using one hand to hold the offending lock in place, she pinned her hair back securely. She then realized that she was facing Paul directly, her arms up pulling her breasts up and out against her sweater. Just the look in his eyes was enough to tickle her nipples to taut attention. He smiled awkwardly and looked back to his own game, but there was no mistaking his admiring glances.

Later, there was an awkward moment when she bent over to reach under the table for some more tokens. She felt something brush up against the left cheek of her butt and realized that it was his leg. She looked over and up to catch him stealing a peak at her behind. Thank God she was wearing her favorite old pair of Guess jeans that fit her better than any others she had ever owned.

"Nice butt," he commented as he glanced down with a shy smile before looking away.

She felt that warm shiver pass through her again, which made it harder to concentrate on setting the pins or collecting tickets. A couple kids complained when she miscounted their tickets. Jesus, Kimberley Ann, can't you count to two, she asked herself.

Around seven thirty, the crowd began to thin out and the customers for their games dwindled down to an occasional visitor using up the last of their tickets. She caught Paul sneaking a look at her.

"What a crazy time!" she called out to him.

"Yeah. This is a lot of fun," he replied.

"I didn't know you were signed up for this," she remarked. "I don't remember seeing you at the meeting."

"I was a last minute replacement, I guess."

There was more idle chitchat as she struggled to find something to say that would interest him yet sound innocent to Linda and Kevin. She complimented him on the progress that Martin was making with his reading and writing. He turned it around into a compliment on her teaching abilities. She asked about their plans for the Christmas break he didn't really give an answer and seemed more interested in what she would be doing. He smiled when she told him she would visit her parents home.

"What? No ski trip to Gstaad?" he cracked.

"Not this year, although I would like to visit sometime."

"It's beautiful this time of year."

A handsome man, a devoted father, and a world traveler to boot! What wasn't there to love about this man, she asked herself. But then the L-word caught her. Oh, Sweet Jesus, Kimberley Ann, she thought.

"You'll get there sometime," he remarked.

Kimberley smiled and noticed that his kids were edging closer with their booty of cheap little toys in hand. The voice of the principal announced over the PA the winners of the door prizes and thanked everyone for their attendance and support. The teachers and parents set about packing up the games for another year. As she noticed Martin and his sister waiting impatiently for their dad, she gave Paul a little wave.

"I guess you'd better get going."

"Yeah, I guess so," he said with a sad look on his face. "Are you hanging around?"

"Some of the gang are going over to Poole's Tavern for a beer," she replied.

"Sounds nice, but," he said with a small sweep of his hand toward his kids.

"Well I wasn't planning on going anyway. I'm not one for smoky, noisy bars. I think I'll just head home."

"Same here," Paul said as he started to move toward the door

Kimberley began pulling together her purse and briefcase and backpack stuffed with her change of clothes.

"Well, can I walk you out then?" he asked, pausing for a moment.

"Yes, that would be nice," she said, clutching at her purse, briefcase and pack together. "Thank you."

"Let me help you," he offered holding out a hand.

She let him carry her pack. His kids knew the way and walked in front, joyfully comparing their prizes. "I must admit something Mr. Rousseau," she began to say.

"You can call me Paul," he said.

"Okay, Paul. I have to admire what you're trying to do. So many of my students have stay-at-home moms who have nothing better to do than shepherd their children around to school and sports and other activities. I can only imagine what it must be like for you doing all of it on your own and have to be the breadwinner too."

He held the door open for her as she slipped out into the chilly December air.

"It's not easy, but I didn't have much choice in the matter," he replied, matching her step. "I'm so busy that I don't really have time to think about it really. Well maybe at night sometimes when I wake up in the wee hours and can't fall back to sleep. Then I start to remember all of the things that have to be done in the next few days. It's at times like that when I really feel the need to have someone to share it with and help out."

They had reached her car and she fumbled with the keys to open up the trunk.

"If there's anything I can do to help," she offered cheerfully, setting her pack and briefcase in the truck, "Please let me know."

"Thank you," he said with that damned disarming smile. "I just may do that. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she said opening her car door and slipping inside.

She tugged at the door and he gave her a little wave before heading off to rejoin his kids. She watched him walk away, and if she hadn't been sitting down she would have kicked herself in the butt. There was the perfect opening and she didn't even see it coming, and of course she had done nothing. God, I can be so dense, she thought to herself.

* * *

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In the early spring the lower grades hosted a little musical event in the gymnasium. The janitors set up a series of risers and laid out rows of chairs for the parents and family. Kimberley and Alice, the music teacher, and been working with the kids every day to learn the simple songs. When the big evening arrived, she led her little charges from their homeroom into the gym where she and Alice lined them up. Since the program would take several minutes and it had been a long day, she decided to find a seat off to the side. Looking quickly she saw an empty chair and sat down, keeping an eye on her pupils. Pierre Cardin, her nose told her and she turned her head slightly and saw that she was sitting next to Mr. Rousseau, whose daughter sat on the other side. He smiled for a moment and turned his glance back to the stage where Martin was in the middle of the back row.

All eyes were on the makeshift stage as the children began their song. All eyes except for Kimberley's. She kept stealing glances at his man sitting next to her, their hips and legs mere inches apart. She could feel the warmth of his body beside her. She felt the telltale signs of perspiration grow. She folded her hands together nervously in her lap. When the parent sitting in front of her tilted her head to the side, she had to move closer to him to keep an eye on her students. Her hair fell past her shoulder and brushed against him. He looked over and smiled again before looking back toward the stage.

There was a slow almost indiscernible movement beside her, and she noticed his hand edge over from his lap to his thigh and head down toward his knee, stopping part way down. His pinky finger was a hairsbreadth away from the hem of her skirt. Okay, she thought, two can play at this game. She shifted her position in the chair and brushed her thigh up against his hand. He didn't move or even flinch, his fingers holding their position pressed against the warm flesh of her thigh. Then very slowly and smoothly his fingers began to move back and forth along her thigh, a fraction of an inch at first, then farther and farther along until they were tracing a complete path along her thigh from her hem to her knee and back. She began to feel the tingles and kept her leg pressed against him.

All too quickly the kids finished their song (dammit, kindergartner's have such a short attention span, she thought) and he raised his hands up to applaud. She joined in and the kids all beamed proudly. When the accompanist began the next song, he returned his hand to where it was, except that she had shifted as close to him as possible, so close that their thighs were touching. His palm landed on his leg but his fingertips lighted on her thigh right at the hemline. She trembled again and pressed her leg against him to keep from shaking. He didn't say a word, didn't look her way, but only cleared his voice. Her leg was on fire as she felt his finger tip slowly move up and down her thigh. She began to feel so warm and tingling inside, she flicked her tongue out to lick her dry lips. When she glanced to the side, she could see him looking at her too and nodded. She could hardly breathe from the excitement of his touch.

Then the second song ended and Alice followed up the round of applause with a bow by the children and introductions of Kimberly and Virginia, the other kindergarten teacher. Kimberley stood up for a moment to acknowledge the polite applause from the audience. There was a third and final song and she wasn't sure that she would be able to take another few minutes of this flirty little finger play. My God, why don't I just take his hand and put it where I want it to be, she asked herself. Of course his daughter was sitting on the other side, and there were parents and colleagues all around. What would they think of the prim young kindergarten teacher if they could read her mind? What would he think?

When she took her seat and he set his hand back down, hers was in place waiting. He lifted it up for a second then let it settle back down into hers and like a couple of giddy teenagers on their first date, they sat holding hands, her small pale hand with the long fingers and painted nails resting in his large strong hands. His palm was warm, with maybe a touch of perspiration too. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the joyful clear voices of the children splash over her. Oh, let them sing this song a second time, she begged. But the song was soon over and the next thing she knew she was up from her seat and leading the children off the risers. As Alice called out her name again, she waved modestly and looked out to the crowd and saw Paul applauding, nodding his head in her direction.

Later, she stood by the door to her room watching as the kids hooked up with their parents. Among the last to come were Paul and his daughter. Martin went running out to his father's waiting arms.

"Daddy, Daddy," he shouted excitedly. "Did you see me?"

"I saw everything, Marty," Paul replied, looking up for a moment to Kimberley's smiling face.

* * *

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So here she was, a month later, anxiously awaiting their appointment. It was their last conference of the school year and she had thought of little else for two days, since she could still feel the reverberations from the last time they had touched. She had practiced what she would say a hundred times in front of the mirror. Then there was the whole scene of picking out her clothes for the day, selecting just the right dress and what to wear underneath it. Who knew if there would be another chance to see him, to meet him, to tell him how she felt and how he made her feel? She opened her sparkling green eyes and saw her reflection in the window; her auburn hair was cascading down past her shoulders, her pale yellow cotton dress was clinging to her figure, her hand was resting in the vee of her neckline; her eyes were twinkling lazily in the sunlight.

"Ahem," came the sound of a man clearing his voice. "Hello. Miss Maguire."

"Mr. Rousseau," she said absently, before putting on her warmest smile and turning around.

"Miss Maguire," said Leo the janitor. "How late are you going to be?"

"Oh, Leo," she said startled. "I have just one conference appointment left."

"I see," he said, looking down and away. "Well you're the last one. I'll check back in a bit later before I go home."

"Thanks," she replied.

When Leo moved off, she went back to her desk and made sure everything was ready. Her laptop computer was open to the correct spreadsheet and the hardcopy report freshly printed up. All she needed was the man. When she glanced at her watch, she saw that he was late, as usual. "This had better be worth it," she said under her breath with a smile.

"Beg your pardon," came a voice from the doorway, the voice she had been waiting for.

She looked up before saying anything again. It was Paul Rousseau this time.

"Hello. Come on in." she said waving him inside.

He was wearing a finely tailored dress shirt and tie over a crisp pair of slacks. He looked rushed and harried as if having been stuck in traffic.

"Sorry, I'm late," he said. "I had an important meeting with a client and it ran over. It seems like I'm always running late."

"Well, good things come to those who wait," Kimberley said, sitting behind her desk. Damn, what a stupid thing to say, she thought.

"Thanks," he said sitting beside the desk.

"Make yourself comfortable," she said. "I apologize for the poor air-conditioning. This weather has caught us all a bit short I guess."

"That's okay," he said loosening his tie and letting the gaze of his dark eyes drift down.

She became aware that her dress was clinging quite closely to her body now and as she leaned forward to hand him the progress chart, her breasts came to rest on the desk. She could feel his look penetrate the soft cotton dress and it made her heart pound.

"Well as you can see," she said, clearing her voice, "Martin has been making great progress over the past few months." She pointed out the upward progression of his test scores and numerical grades.

The father leaned forward, reviewing the chart avidly. She leaned toward him bringing their faces closer together. Their eyes met when he looked up.

"This looks very nice to me," he remarked.

"Yes, very nice," she said, her voice wavering with emotion.

"Ahem," came Leo's voice from the door. "Miss Maguire?"

"Yes, Leo," she replied, sitting up straight in her chair.

"Since it's Friday night M'am, I'll be leaving soon. If you're going to be much longer, you'll have to leave by the office doors cause I have to lock up these out here."

"Thanks, Leo. I'll just be few more minutes."

"You're the last one, M'am. Do you want me to wait for you?"

She exchanged a look with Paul.

"No, that's okay," she said nervously, her lips trembling. "We're almost finished."

"Okay, M'am. Have a good evening," Leo said, and then was gone.

Kimberley and Paul looked back to each other for what must have been a minute. His look was penetrating her defenses, not that she would put up any.

"So, ah, do you have any questions?" she asked weakly.

"No, I think this tells a pretty nice story," he replied, leaning back in his chair. "Miss Maguire, I want to tell you what a great job you've done with Martin this year. He raves about you much of the time."

"Thank you," she smiled. She noticed that that lock of hair had fallen onto his forehead. She also noticed that his temples were glistening with sweat.

"I also want to say that I've enjoyed meeting with you during the year and appreciate all your help," he went on, his eyes not leaving hers.

"Thank you again."

"Um, may I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure, anything."

"They call you Miss Maguire. Is there a prospective Mister in your life?"

She laughed. "Not in the slightest."

"Really? I'm surprised. I would think that a lovely young woman such as yourself would have tons of guys fighting over you."

She laughed again but didn't answer. So he had been thinking about me, she thought to herself. He turned away for a moment before turning back.

"Please let me know if this sounds inappropriate, but ever since we first met last fall, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind."

"What?" she asked. "What do you mean?"

"Well ever since I met you, I've been feeling like, like a schoolboy."

"That's my line!" she blurted out. "That's how I've been feeling, like a schoolboy, I mean schoolgirl."

"I know," he said reaching over to take her hand. "I confess that I've been keeping an eye out for you but figured that there was a young man in the background. Besides, you probably wouldn't be interested in someone like me, you know, divorced, damaged goods, and all that comes with it."

"Oh, no, Paul, you've got it all wrong," she protested. "I've been the giddy schoolgirl. Every time you come near me, I get goose bumps and tremble so badly that I can't think of an intelligent thing to say."

"But you always look so pretty and appealing, and, as for that business at the musical program, I really have to apologize. That was out of order."

"Paul, have you heard a thing I've said?" she asked, leaning toward him so close that she could feel his breath on her cheeks. "I've felt the same way. Sure, you're older than I am, but I've longed to meet someone who can teach me some of the ways of the world. Just because I'm a teacher doesn't mean that I can't learn something."

He sat back for a moment and stood up. What was he thinking, she asked herself. Did I say the wrong thing? He turned and walked toward the windows. She stood up behind her desk and started to move around it toward him, but he turned back shaking his head.

"I've never been very good at this," he said, holding his hands out to his sides. "In business matters, I'm very decisive, but when it comes to my personal life, I'm a mess. My divorce has only made it worse. When I meet someone or someone tries to fix me up, even if it's someone that I'm attracted to, my shy nature takes over and I get all bound up, finding all sorts of excuses for not following through."

"Would it make any difference if I told you that I'm much the same?" she asked.

He laughed with a shrug. "Well then, what a great couple we would make!"

This was not going the way she had thought earlier. All of the wonderful things she was going to say had no meaning now. But he was looking her up and down with those great dark eyes and she could feel his look caress her like a gentle set of fingertips, teasing her to a level of excitement that she had never known. It wasn't as if she had never been touched or had never had sex, but in his presence she felt almost like an innocent child and she wanted him to make her whole, to teach her the things that she had been denied so long, and she was determined not to let this moment escape, not this time.

"If it's all the same to you, Paul," she said moving slowly toward him, "I think we would make a terrific couple. Ever since we met, I've been having dreams about you, at night, during the day, wonderful dreams that linger on. I want you to make those dreams come true."

She was standing in front of him now, her hands resting lightly on his chest. He was warm to the touch, almost hot.

"It's the other way around, I think it would be you making my dreams come true," he said placing his hands on her shoulders. "I'm over forty years old, Kimberley. I've got kids and an ex-wife and every reason not to get involved with you. I'm too old to start all over from scratch again while you've got your life just ahead of you. And yet each time I see you, I feel this desire that I haven't felt in years."

"So here I am, your son's teacher, under thirty and never married, still waiting, still looking for that special man who will teach me all the things I long to learn. Sure I've had my share of boyfriends, but none of them ever made me feel the way you do by just looking at me."

"Isn't it funny?" Paul laughed. "I mean, here we are both coming up with reasons not to get involved, and yet, when I think about what I feel when I look at you, there isn't one good reason not to."

"Yes, silly isn't it?" she asked standing up on her toes to bring her face closer to his.

"Yes, it is very silly," he said tilting his head just enough to the side that he could bring his lips close to hers. "Silly, silly, silly."

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She could feel his breath on her face, the heat of his body was tearing through her, her heart was beating wildly and she wanted to throw herself into this whirling feeling that had caught her up. As if controlled by the same hand, they moved together and kissed. His lips were warm and wet and she pressed her body forward into his. His hands slipped around her waist and pulled her closer. They kissed again and again, their lips and tongues blindly seeking out those of the other. When his tongue touched hers, the most wonderful shiver flowed through her.

"Oh, Paul," she whispered hoarsely as he began to kiss along her neck. She wrapped her arms about his shoulders and pulled herself up, pressing her breasts against his chest. "Teach me everything! I want to learn it all!"

His hands moved back up to her shoulders, and he pulled his face and his kisses away from her body.

"Oh, Jesus, Kimberley. Why are you doing this to me?"

She grabbed his tie and pulled him along as she backed up toward her desk. She pulled his face back to hers and kissed him again, hoping that the powerful feeling she had would flow through her full lips and into him.

"Paul, can't you see," she whispered into his ear as he kissed and licked her exposed neck. "Can't you feel this? I want you so badly. I want you to make love to me, right here, right now!"

"But, but this is your classroom," he protested. "I mean, you could get fired or something."

"You heard Leo. We're all alone in here and I want you so badly! I can tell that you want me!"

She perched her butt on the edge of her desk and pulled him to her.

"Right here, right now?" he asked, looking at her upturned face and stroking her cheek with his fingertips. "My God, you are so beautiful! So young and so worth the wait!"

His next round of kisses took his lips back down to her neck and down the vee of her dress. His fingers began to lightly brush her breasts and she pressed them into his hands. Her stiff nipples felt like they were going to burn their way through her clothes. When he started to unbutton her dress, her fingers dropped to her belt and quickly unfastened it and pulled it free. His fingers worked their way down just below her waist and pulled her dress open. The rush of fresh air felt refreshing, but did little to cool her flaming passion.

His tongue explored the upper curves of her breasts tracing a path along the upper edge of her sweet nothing bra, following the lacy trim from one strap to the other and back. The sheer little cups did nothing to hide her nipples that surged upward. She pulled one cup down and away and directed the rose-colored nipple to his eager mouth. She couldn't help but gasp when he sucked it and gave it a faint loving nibble. He helped himself to her other breast, pulling the flimsy lace away, kissing her soft pale flesh and sucking the stiff rosy nipple. He cupped her full breasts and flicked his tongue in a circle around each one.

"Your breasts are beautiful," he said eagerly. "Just beautiful! It's been such a long time for me, I just hope I remember how to do this."

She held his head close as he sent wave after wave of pleasure through her. Her hands took up where his had left off, unfastening the remainder of the buttons so that her dress fell away, opened fully, inviting his look and his kisses.

"My, God, Miss Maguire!" he said easing back to take a look at her. "You have a beautiful body!"

His hand moved lightly down her stomach and belly, grazing over the filmy lace panties, and then drifted lower to survey the soft plush skin of her thighs. It seemed like his fingertips sampled every bit of her skin between her panties and the lacey tops of her sheer white hose. She wanted him to touch her pussy so badly that she couldn't wait for him to make up his mind. She grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand up so that he cupped her crotch. She knew he could feel the dampness there as his fingers tenderly caressed her pussy. She spread her legs farther apart and his fingers found their way around and under the lacy panel.

"Oh, my God!" she exclaimed when his fingers parted her pussy lips. "Oh, my God!"

His lips were still planting kisses on her breasts but were working their way back up to her mouth. As his fingers began to invade the wet slit of her pussy, she pulled his face up and kissed him wildly, with a passion and feeling that she had never before known. He deftly found her most sensitive spot and gently fingered her until she could no longer stand it.

"Oh, God! Paul!" she cried out in a voice that came from deep inside her. "Oh, God! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

"Not yet, Miss Maguire," he whispered softly. "All in due time."

He pushed her back onto the desk, kissed his way back down to her breasts, then further down along her belly. Hooking his thumbs through the elastic of her panties, he began to tug them downward. She raised her butt off the desk to let him ease the flimsy garment down her long legs and then picked her feet up so he could finish the job. She couldn't believe how it turned her on when he brought the crumpled lace up to his nose and sniffed them. He tossed them gingerly onto the desk and squatted down to pay attention to her aching pussy. He ran his fingers up and down through her thin patch of auburn curls. She wondered about how some of her friends said their boyfriends preferred them to shave their pussies completely, but she had never been brave enough to do it. He didn't seem to mind that hers was only trimmed short.

"So you are a natural redhead," he said looking up with a smile, as his fingers kept rubbing her waiting pussy.

"Auburn," she corrected as he flicked his tongue at her pussy. "My hair is auburn."

"Does it matter? Does it really matter?" he said before plunging his face into her hot wet sex.

It didn't at this point with his tongue forcing its way between the hot lips of her pussy. She scooted her butt back farther onto the desk and raised her legs up spreading them far enough apart to set her feet on the desktop. He hungrily lapped at her open pussy, licking her up and down, flicking his tongue all over her parted pink lips. When he started to poke a finger up inside her, she almost jumped off the desk.

"You have a pretty little pussy, Miss Maguire," he said, pressing his lips and tongue back onto her.

She couldn't believe the wonderful sensations he was sending through her body. Her boyfriend in college had sort of lapped at her as had a more recent guy, but neither had a produced feeling anywhere near to what this beautiful man was doing. She raised a hand up to feel herself, the stiff nipples, and the soft flesh of her breasts. When he pulled back for a moment, she looped her legs up around his head and kept him right at her pussy. She could feel her wetness dribble down the crack of her butt to form a moist spot on the seat of her dress, but she didn't care. Little involuntary moans and gasps started to bubble up from inside her. When he started sucking her clit into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue, she began to feel a tightness grow in her hips and belly and thighs, as if every muscle was flexing. She began to wriggle and writhe under the touch of his tongue and fingers.

"Oh, God Paul! Oh! Oh! Oh!"

She grabbed his head and pulled him into her pussy and a shuddering release began to flow from her clit, radiating out through her entire body, lifting the tension away from her. She felt this need to hug and kiss him deeply.

"Oh, what did you do to me?" she asked as he began to stand up.

"Just what comes naturally, Miss Maguire," he said with a big smile. "I'm not certain, but if I were a betting man, that was what you call an orgasm."

He grabbed her by the ass and pulled her off the desk. She kissed him and ran her hands all over his chest and shoulders.

"I've never done that before," she said tugging at his necktie to loosen it up. "Never like that anyway."

He reached up and eased her dress off her shoulders and when it had slipped free of her body, laid it onto the desk. Then he grabbed the straps of her bra that had fallen past her shoulders and pulled them down. The little single clasp popped loose and it fell away from her body. For a moment she realized that she was naked, except for her stockings and shoes, right here in her classroom. What if the principal came in late or another teacher came back because they forgot something? The touch of Paul's fingers on her soft skin tossed that thought far away from her mind.

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She pulled his tie free from his shirt and began to undo the buttons on his shirt. He worked on loosening up his belt and opening his trousers. He kicked his shoes off, let the trousers fall to the floor, and stepped out from them just as she finished pulling his shirt away from his chest. There was a light dusting of black hair on his chest but the rest of him was smooth and his skin felt like silk. Not that she had a lot of experience in the matter, but she had never felt a man's skin that was so soft, so touchable, so appealing.

With another full deep kiss on the lips, she squatted down and rubbed her hands on his crotch, feeling his cock through the soft low-cut briefs he wore. She could feel it grow large by the second as she fondled it. She leaned forward to kiss and lick and nibble on his cock through his briefs until he could control it no longer and it popped out from the waistband. She tugged his briefs down and looped her fingers around his cock. It was long and thick and straight, the color of late summer suntan. The rose colored head loomed large in front of her eyes. She wanted to give him the most memorable head, but hadn't practiced in a long time.

She tried stroking him and kissing the head. Each time her lips or tongue touched him, he sighed and his head fell backward. An ice cream cone. Isn't that what Phoebe had told her, just like licking an ice cream cone? But there was something about this long tan cock that made her want to suck the whole thing inside her mouth. She felt his hips quiver when she worked most of it inside. Think of your mouth as a pussy, she thought. He reached out and grabbed her head for a moment and then let her go.

"How am I doing?" she asked. "I haven't done this all that much."

"Just fine, Miss Maguire. Don't stop!"

She tried to take all of him inside her mouth but she started to gag when he struck the back of her throat.

"You don't have to do that," he said, shifting around so that he could lean back onto the desk while she kneeled in front of him trying to swallow his stiff cock. "That's okay, Miss Maguire! You're doing great."

There was something about the way he had started calling her Miss Maguire that was turning her on beyond belief. Here they were naked in her classroom while she's going down on him. There wasn't time or inclination to consider intruders at this moment. She just wanted to keep bobbing her head back and forth on his stiff cock, feeling the tension mount in the muscles of his belly. She stroked him for a bit while she licked at his balls.

"Aren't you going to come?" she asked.

"Uh, later, Miss Maguire!" he called out.

After another couple of minutes, he reached for her shoulders and stood her up. Spinning her around he pushed her back onto the desk. She pushed her laptop to the side and shoved the papers and pencils to the floor. She leaned back on her desk and spread her legs. He held his cock and rubbed the head back and forth on her still sopping wet pussy. Slowly, so very excruciatingly slowly, he began to ease his cock in and out of her. Using long and slow strokes, he slid himself into her and almost back out. Her pussy cried out with pleasure as she felt every inch of him slip into and out of her. She reached out and grabbed his hips, her fingers just able to reach around to his tight buns. She could feel the force of his every move into and out of her and knew she was lying there grinning.

When she glanced up at him, he was looking back down at her, with the most beautiful look on his face, as if his eyes were devouring her just as his cock was devouring her pussy. His tanned body was glistening with perspiration; her soft pale body was writhing with pleasure. The pace of their movements was speeding up and her breasts began to wiggle back and forth. As his thrusts grew stronger and more rapid, she grabbed at her tits and pinched her nipples. She began to moan with each stroke now, little ooos, and ohs, and ahs were escaping from her involuntarily.

"You are so beautiful!" he said softly, brushing her hair down over her shoulders. "I've waited so long for someone like you!"

Not wanting to keep her hands away any longer, she reached out to touch his body. After all of the well-intentioned setups by friends and relations, she had discovered this man on her own and erupted with pleasure at the sight and feel of him moving his wonderful cock in and out of her hungry pussy. It had been so much worth the wait for her as well.

After a few more minutes of this delicious lovemaking, Paul pulled her up by the shoulders and off the desk. As she stood upright, he turned her around, and gently pushed her forward, bending her over. His hard cock quickly slipped into her pussy from the rear. She reached for and grabbed the edge of the desk as his belly started slapping into the cheeks of her butt. She tried pushing back to meet him on each stroke. She couldn't believe the new set of luxurious sensations rolling through her now. She squeezed her thighs together and felt her pussy tighten up around him.

"I love this, Paul! Ooh how I love this!"

"Oh, yeah, Miss Maguire," he called out.

His strokes began coming hard and fast. She began to feel that sort of tightness again, radiating out from her pussy to her belly and thighs and breasts. She fell down onto the desktop, mashing her breasts against the polished wood.

"Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah!" she cried out loudly over and over. She didn't care who heard her.

After another tingling wave of sensation rolled through her, she managed to push herself upright to a standing position. For several more strokes he kept pushing up inside of her. His arms were wrapped around her, his hands feeling up her jiggling breasts, his lips seeking the soft flesh of her shoulders and neck. Then he brought his hands down to her hips and without letting himself slide out of her, he pulled her back around the desk.

"I think you'll like this," he said and plopped his buns into her chair, with her sitting in his lap, his cock still inside of her.

His hands, still on her hips, began to guide her up and down the length of his cock. She lifted a foot up to the chair so she could push herself up and down. At one point it felt as if his cock was rubbing directly on her clit and each stroke took her to a new height of pleasure.

"Oh, Paul, this is wonderful!" she said, turning her head around to get a glimpse of him. "But I want to see you while we fuck."

"Okay," he said and helped her rise up off of him.

He scooted his hips down a bit as she turned around and, kneeling on the chair, settled her pussy back down on him. Riding him, face-to-face, she began to think of all the times she had thought of him, of being with him, of having his lips on hers, of having his cock buried inside her.

"Oh, Paul," she said. "You don't know how many times I've thought about this!"

"The thought has crossed my mind once or twice, too," he admitted.

She closed her eyes and remembered the meetings and the missed opportunities. She felt his stiff cock inside her pussy now and knew that it was all worth it, the months of longing and waiting, and now she had this man. She began to wiggle and rock her hips as she rode his cock. He cupped her tits and kissed them. She tossed her head forward, dangling her hair in his face, then threw herself back and let it tumble down her back. She could feel it coming again, a tidal wave of sensation, this time ripping through her.

"Oh, God! Paul!" she cried again and again and again.

She collapsed in a shuddering mass on his lap. He stroked her hair and gently guided his fingers up and down her back. She rested her cheek on his shoulder.

"Aren't you going to come, Babe?" she asked.

"Does that matter?"

"Yes," she answered. "I've been coming all over you and now I want you to come. I want to feel it, I want to see it. I want you to do something nasty."

"What? Like come on your face, or belly, or tits?"

"I don't care," she screamed. "I just want you to come too!"

"You are something else, Miss Maguire," he said with that smile.

She would have done anything for him at this moment. But all he did was boost her back up onto the desk, lay her back down while holding her arms above her head, and began to slip in and out of her again. He picked her legs up and hooked her ankles over his shoulders. By pressing her thighs together he tightened up her sopping wet pussy and began humping furiously. She writhed and wriggled and dug her nails into the flesh of his back. He pressed himself forward bending her legs up against her like a bobby pin. She could feel his sweat drip down and pool up in the little valleys on her chest and belly. Just as she felt the wave of an orgasm sweep over her again, he suddenly pulled his cock out and began to squirt cum all over her belly and tits. Three, four, then five times the hot cream came spurting out of him, landing all over her body. He was grunting and gasping for breath.

"Oh, Jesus, Miss Maguire!" he cried out. "What a spunky mess I've made!"

She laughed and reached for his cock to stroke it and feel the sticky goo dripping from him. She rubbed his cum all over her belly and tits.

"I may have to punish you for this," she said, and saw a delightful and mischievous look light up his face.

He leaned forward and kissed her tenderly. "What sort of punishment, Miss Maguire?"

"Let's see now. I could place you on detention and hold you after school or I could paddle you."

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"You realize that I just may enjoy that too much!" he laughed.

After a few minutes of snuggling and cuddling, the desktop grew hard and uncomfortable. He stood up and plopped down in her chair, still naked as a jailbird. She knew he was watching her avidly as she stepped into her lacey panties and began to hook up her bra. His face looked sad.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked.

"No, it's just that it's been so long since I've watched a woman get dressed," he said with a sad tone of voice that matched his pitiful expression. "And I'm not sure when it will happen again, so I want to keep this memory."

"Somehow I get the feeling that it will happen again," she replied, slipping her dress back onto her shoulders.

How am I ever going to be able to concentrate when I sit here next week, she thought, as she began to rearrange her desk. She closed her eyes and the image of them making love on top of her desk came back to her. I will never look at this desk in the same way again, she thought. Catching a glimpse of Paul getting dressed distracted her, and it was her turn to watch.

"Are you okay?" he asked, as he finished tucking in his shirt.

"I've never watched a man get dressed before," she admitted.

On their way out, they paused at the doorway for a long romantic lingering kiss.

"And what's in your next lesson plan?" she asked.

"Let's see," he said thinking. "Either a review of what we've covered so far, or maybe an oral exam."

Kimberley laughed.

"Or we could form a panel discussion group and talk about what ever pops up first."

They laughed together and walked out together into the sun-streaked hall.

Hope you have enjoyed this. As always, your comments are always welcome.

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Miltone, this really WAS *Worth Waiting For*!!

Thankyou...fantastic story!

Hm.......I happen to be using a teachers old school desk as my computer desk. :D

Miltone, In my opinion this is just a well written good story. You did a great job in describing and developing these people. The relationships were great and the sex was good and not gaudy.

Keep it up. Good stuff.

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Love...the slowest form of suicide.

RandyGal ~ You're welcome ... Glad you enjoyed ... I'd be glad to help out if you need any help, um, breaking in your desk!

skipthisone ~ Thanks so much! I like writing stories that have a little bit of character and plot as well as some hot sex!

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Wonderful story, Miltone! Great character development and plot.
And the sex....well, it was just plain SEXY without being vulgar or demeaning to either men or women.

With my husband being a custodian, and myself having worked at my kids' school for years helping the teachers....a school setting was just very exciting for me!;) :D

I'm definitely looking forward to your next offering!!! Oh Yes...most definitely!!:D :D

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"They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety" Benjamin Franklin
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My Stories:
Dream Date
Just Desserts
Internet Lovers Meet - Part 1
Internet Lovers Meet - Part 2
Internet Lovers Meet - Part 3
RAVISHED!!
My Birthday - A Fantasy

Sugar ~ I think the school setting is pretty exciting for most people, teachers and students alike. And I will be posting more in the future. Thanks for you lovely comments!

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Loved the slow build to climax ..... I'm sure I'll be able to breathe normal again really soon!!!! Great story!