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Just A Tiny Spark

Date: 8/12/2015, Categories: Fiction, Author: LushStories, Rating: 83.3, Source: sexstories.com

heart. “Mrs. Henderson…” “Joanne.” My breath hitched, but at least I was breathing again. “Joanne? Like in…” The images of that night came back and assaulted me with their intensity. My chest heaved. “Oh god, please,” I begged when she stared at me, frozen in her position, her hand halfway pulled back. “Say something, Joanne!” Before, my heart had been pulsing with love. Now, desire had welled up and joined in the rhythm, and I wasn’t sure I could bear it much longer before it tore me apart. The look in her eyes changed, and then they widened. Like an avalanche, something feral broke through, and by god, her emerald eyes glowed and filled my world. Her lips were upon mine, soft and smooth and making sparkles dance over mine, which parted willingly. I was swept away, losing myself in sensations so powerful that I turned into a gasping, moaning bundle of joy, and like loving butterflies, our tongues danced around each other’s. I had never felt like this before, and I clutched my arms around Mrs. Henderson - Joanne - like I was drowning. We had to come up for air though. Joanne jumped backwards as if burned. “Oh god,” she gasped. “What am I doing?” “Joanne?” I gripped her wrists. “What - what’s wrong?” “We shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be doing this!” The wall in front of her went up again. “I don’t understand?” She looked incredible, flushed like this, her lips full and dark. I needed her to touch me and kiss me. “I - we - I…” It was the first time I heard her struggle ... for words. “I’m twice your age. I’ll be gone from here on New Year’s Day. I - I can’t take advantage of you. You’re young, you just discovered this part of you. You should have someone who can be here for you. Things will get hard. Being… different… is not something the people around will just accept.” “I don’t care!” I tried to pull her close, but she yanked her arms away and retreated across the room, leaning onto her desk with her back to me. “Please, Molly!” She sounded choked. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Please!” * * * * Perhaps I should have stayed and tried to convince her. Who knows? I certainly didn’t, and even in hindsight, I couldn’t tell. What I could tell was that I had never felt as miserable in my life. I stayed in bed for the last two days before Christmas break, with the support of my roommates who fetched me pizzas, cherry cheesecakes and chocolate sundaes and kept me company in the evenings, even though I was far from talkative. Then, when it was time to go home, I called my parents and made up having the flu and not wanting to infect anyone. With the amount of crying I had been doing, it wasn’t hard to sound choked up and sick. I had to argue even longer to prevent them from coming to take care of me or bring me home with their car, but they finally believed my assurances that no, I wasn’t going to die on them and yes, I’d be home for the next break. In a moment of weakness, I had given into Erin’s constant needling about my love interest ...