She reached the faculty room and was greeted by the usual blast of cigarette smoke and a few calls of, "Hello, Linda," just as fourth period was starting. Since fourth period was the favorite period to schedule Physical Education classes, since there was no real rush for everyone to finish, lots of teachers also had fourth period off.
But she was walking back to her classroom in a few minutes when she realized she'd left her purse in the bathroom. "Of all the stupid things," she told herself. "You'd forget your head if it weren't screwed on right." Besides, she had lots of valuable stuff in there, and there were undoubtedly kids who'd be more than happy to help themselves to it and not give it a second thought.
She was just on the verge of opening the door when something made her stop, without her realizing exactly what it was. She stopped herself just as she was about to stick the extra key she'd gotten for the faculty room into the door.
What she'd seen that had stopped her was that there were two people – a cheerleader in her uniform and a big kid who looked like a football player, in the room, apparently just sitting and talking.
How had they gotten in, she wondered. The door was still locked, just as she had locked it before she left. Maybe the cheerleader had a master key or something, because she'd heard rumors that a couple of the school's master keys had somehow disappeared in the last few weeks and no one had even the slightest idea where they'd gone. Now Linda knew what had happened to at least one of them, because she specifically remembered locking the door a few minutes before.
It bothered her, as if someone had burglarized her home, but she also felt a sense of admiration for the ingenuity of pulling off this kind of stunt. After all if you wanted some privacy, what better place to get it than a classroom during a free period. How did they know it would be a free period? Simple, she thought. You simply kept your eyes open long enough and any fool could figure out which classrooms would be empty when.
There was an eye level window just a few inches across and down in the classroom door, just so teachers could know who would be at the door and it was through this that Linda was looking now. Since these punks had broken into her class, she decided she'd repay them by spying on them for a little bit before busting them. Besides, she was curious about what they'd do if they were thinking, as they obviously were, that no one was going to see them. Probably drugs, she thought, which will mean that the room will stink of marijuana when I go in there after lunch. I'll have to wait until they light up or else I'll look silly charging in there, like I was just waiting for the very instant that they pulled out the marijuana cigarettes.
But they didn't start smoking anything at all. Instead, they just kept talking. Linda watched them for about 20 seconds, then realized that if someone came walking down the hall, she'd look awfully strange. She glanced around and watched them talk for a while longer. They were both smiling at each other as if they had a big secret between each other.
Linda watched for a few more moments and then got bored with trying to make out what they were saying. They may have as well been talking Japanese. But just as she started to pull away from the window, she saw the football player reach out his hand to the cheerleader's hand. Well, big deal, she told herself, but she didn't want to leave all of a sudden. She couldn't help but wonder if something else was about to happen now.
It did. The cheerleader – whose name, "Pam" was emblazoned on the tight orange and white sweater and on the matching micro skirt – reached her hand over to the football player's face, and ran her fingers lightly over his cheeks. My God, she thought, the very nerve of these kids. Why did they think they could get away with this kind of behavior in broad daylight? As if to answer that question, she immediately heard footsteps coming down the hall. She pivoted away from the door instantly and began walking as nonchalantly as possible toward Lee Frankel, one of the mathematics teachers and one of the oldest people on the staff.
If Lee goes by the classroom, she thought, he might very well see what's going on and I'll get blamed for it, since it is my classroom. So she hustled up to Lee and gave him a big hello and a smile. "Hi Linda, dearie," he said. Hoo boy, she thought. I can just see this guy getting outraged over the kids in my class, even if they're just holding hands. I've got to get him out of here right now. "Hi Lee. Hey, how about if I treat you to a donut in the faculty room?" she asked breathlessly, trying to sound helpless and vulnerable.
"Why, that's the best offer I've had all day, Mrs. White," he said, chuckling at his own humor. "Here. You can take my arm now."
Five minutes later, she'd gotten Lee his jelly donut and was back in the wing where she'd been watching. Fine. No one was here, but she'd have to get Pam and the football player out of the room before they started acting crazy and rolling around on the floor.
But they weren't. They were still just holding hands and talking back and forth. So Linda watched for about 20 seconds and got bored again, then started to put the extra key in the lock.
Again, though, she stopped. This time the football player had now put his arms around Pam and they both stood up and looked into each other's eyes soulfully. They were about 25 feet from the door window, but they looked as if they could have been a million miles away. Neither of them seemed to be moving a muscle.
Linda had a pretty good idea what would come next and she was right. Slowly, the heads of the football player and cheerleader moved toward one another, and their mouths opened slowly. Their wild shining eyes roamed over each other curiously.
Now their tongues snaked out toward each other and their eyes closed. The boy gathered in Pam, squeezing her jutting breasts against his massive chest. Linda could hear her moan throatily: "Oh, baby!"
Pam slowly began undulating her ripe, full form all over the jock's muscular frame, with special emphasis being on stimulating the growing bulge in his pants. She was immediately successful, Linda could tell, as a huge piston-like form appeared to thrust out of the denim material between his legs.
What in the world was she doing watching this, Linda wondered in a daze. It wasn't that it particularly turned her on, but more that she felt somehow compelled to just watch it and not do much of anything else. She'd never seen two people make love to each other before now, having turned down Steve's suggestion one night that they go see an X-rated movie in Santa Monica.
They were taking each other's clothes off. The jock slipped the sweater over Pam's head and dropped it onto the floor. She was tearing off his jacket and button-down shirt at the time, but Linda hardly noticed. Despite the fact that Pam's low-cut brassiere remained on her, Linda could already tell that Pam had what had to be one of the hottest bodies that a centerfold could ever hope for.
The bounteous swell of her large milky breasts all but overflowed the cups of the lacy brassiere and her waist narrowed to a tight curve about her rounded hips and ass, still covered by the skirt, above her slender thighs. Now the jock's fingers were fumbling with the clasp of the brassiere as Pam mashed her melonous breasts into his hairy chest. In a few seconds, those milky orbs jutted proudly from her chest like two cantaloupes, with cherry-like nipples hard as rocks. She threw back her head in a single motion of unabated lust and kept grinding her now-throbbing breasts into the jock's chest, moving her lust-inflamed nipples as fast as she could to maximize the pleasure that shone on her face.
Now the jock grabbed the nipples, almost as big as golf balls, and tweaked them so hard between his huge fingers that it made Linda wince. Pam apparently felt no pain at all, though. "Oh, God, Gary, I love it so much!" she could hear her gasp.