|Alyx Oan's How To Guide
Author: Jorda PM
Lesson Three- How to Try and Impress Your Date And Fail Spectacularly : Any other girl would have already fallen for my charms. But Aiden's not like any other girl.Rated: Fiction M - English - Humor/Romance - Chapters: 3 - Words: 9,791 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 1 - Updated: 01-07-11 - Published: 04-29-10 - id: 2802036
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
How to Make Memorable First Impressions
That's my name.
The lady on the other side of the table doesn't know it yet, but in a matter of hours, she'll be willing to pay to get rid of me. Right now, she sits with her chair turned away from me, putting a lot of thought in the class schedule I'll probably toss the minute I walk out of the room. Waiting for my temporary guidance counselor to finish her work, I look at the pictures on her desk to pass the time. Lots of mother/daughter pictures- I figure she's the older one and the younger, attractive one that resembles her is her daughter.
I wonder if she'll introduce us.
My phone goes off. Forgetting where I am, I pull it out of my pocket to glance at the screen. It reads a familiar name and a message.
Sarah: let me know how ur master plan goes. ; )
She'll definitely be the first to hear the story.
"I'm sure your old school had similar rules regarding cellphones, Miss Oan." The voice reminds me I'm not alone.
I silence my phone and tell her what she wants to hear. "Yes, ma'am. Won't happen again."
"Good." She finally turns her chair around to face me.
A pleasant surprise.
The woman sitting across from me is indeed one from the pictures scattered across the desk. Even better- she's the younger of the two. I try to prevent the big grin trying to form on my lips.
This is too good to be true.
She motions towards the computer screen. "If you want to come around here, we can look at your schedule together and make any necessary changes."
I have a better idea.
All it takes is the right look and words.
"Don't stop." She moans in my ear.
Not planning on it.
Twenty minutes ago, Alyx Oan entered this school as a new student. Not even five minutes ago she entered the hot guidance counselor for a pre-class quickie. Now I have her on her desk, legs spread and her arms around me to keep me close. I let my fingers work their magic and one of her arms lets go, swinging back to find something else to hold onto.
I hear a loud thud- she must have knocked something off her desk. She doesn't seem worried about it though, so I keep going.
Her hand's back, giving my hair a rough tug.
There's a knock on her door. "Julia?"
Her eyes open wide and she curses under her breath. "Shit."
Next thing I know, she's pushing me down. "Under the desk."
Can't remember the last time I've done this.
Actually- yes I can.
"Come in!" She returns to her chair, sliding close to her desk to keep me trapped inside. She pretends to search for something in the drawers as the door opens.
"Is everything alright?" I can't see the face of the person asking the question, but I'm sure it shows a mixture of confusion and concern.
What she really wants to say is "get the hell out of here so I can finish what I started."
A pause, then the other woman speaks again. "You dropped this." I hear it set back on the desk.
My counselor squirms in her chair, still aching for release. Right now I'm thankful for skirts and desks I can crawl under. Getting impatient, I rub the inside of her thigh, my fingers getting dangerously close to where she really wants them.
"I must have dropped it when I was looking for my-" She tries again to get rid of her co-worker. "You know what- I forgot it at home. Can you talk to any of my kids while I'm gone?"
Say yes, say yes. "Of course."
When our company finally leaves, my counselor backs away from the desk to let me out.
On two feet again, I lean back against the desk and toss out one of my typical witty remarks. "So, you already plan on taking me home?"
She stands and comes close to whisper in my ear. "I won't make it all the way home. Follow me to the parking lot?"
Let's see- go to my boring first hour class, or skip and fuck my hot guidance counselor in the back seat of her car?
I wonder what kind of car she has.
Guess I'm about to find out.
"You do know where the office is, don't you?"
The teacher- a boring, old history buff- attempts to intimidate me with his authoritative tone. Looking at him, I can't help but wonder what he does in his free time. He's not attractive enough to lure young girls back to his house and have his way with them. Maybe he gets off on watching History Channel documentaries.
Because learning about how the pyramids were built is so orgasmic.
It was only about ten minutes ago I walked into this class and handed the teacher my schedule. I appeared so innocent at first. Using my manners when speaking and promptly finding a seat. Then, class started and the boredom began to get to me. When you spend your entire first period having crazy, fun lesbian sex with a future milf, history kind of loses any intrigue it may have previously had. And you know how some of these history teachers are- getting touchy when you challenge their knowledge of the subject. I, personally, have nothing against the guy, closet pedophile or not, I just want to get out of this class, this building, and especially this town. And I plan to do it exactly the same way as how I got here in the first place.
The guidance counselor- an excellent start, but she's only the beginning.
I'm sure at one point in my life I was a good kid. Innocent, followed the rules, didn't lure other girls into the bathroom during school hours to fool around. Then, I grew up and realized being normal and innocent- it's no fun. Yeah, I'm sure I could be a goody-two-shoes and karma would reward me graciously in the future, but I could be waiting a long time for that to happen. I could just enjoy life now and have the bad karma rain down on me when I'm old and miserable.
One could only hope for such tragedy.
Really- would you rather live to 100 and have complete strangers changing your diapers or would you rather die in your sleep before your children ship you away to a dreadful retirement home?
Then again, some old people are still running around and living life at 80 and 90 something years.
Just look at Betty White.
Anyway, back to my current situation.
My parents decided to move me away from home to this middle of nowhere town in Oklahoma. If it wasn't our northern border, I'd probably forget the state existed. When my parents told me the news, I spent a good five minutes trying to figure out who the hell they knew from Oklahoma. After that came the realization we were moving, then the fact I had no say in the decision. They never mentioned the real reason for our sudden departure. They told me they wanted a "change of scenery", but I knew it was really because of me. Their eccentric, lesbian daughter who got kicked out of one too many schools. Why we had to leave the state was beyond me. Texas is a big place- surely every high school in the state didn't know about my "disruptive" behavior. And, even if they did, they couldn't really deny me entry.
Or can they?
In the office, while I await my meeting with the man in charge, I plot out my great act. What would ensure my absolute termination from this school district? Well, these people are unbearably religious. I'm sure curse words, flamboyant homosexuality, and attempting to seduce that cute office aide will do just fine. Maybe as a bonus I can meet her out back later and teach her about all the things she won't learn in church.
Makes me excited just thinking about it.
As if she can hear my thoughts, she looks up. I flash her a smile and she does the same in return.
Time to claim my second victim.
Setting my backpack by one of the chairs near the door, I approach the desk she sits at. I engage in conversation. "So, where's the big man in charge?"
She glances to the closed door some feet away from us. "In his office. He'll be right out to see you."
"He can take all the time he needs- I'm in no rush."
I get a small smile out of her before she goes back to her work at the computer in front of her.
Don't even try to play hard to get. "So, are you stuck behind that desk all hour or do you get a break from the strenuous secretary work?"
The smile grows wider. "Well, they do let me go to the bathroom."
I like the sound of that.
Just as I'm about to lure office aide girl away from her duties, we're interrupted.
The door I had walked in earlier opens once more. My natural curiosity causes me to turn and look.
I don't know what it is about this girl that draws my attention, but her arrival pushes away all my fantasies about the office aide girl.
This girl- she's not super-model hot, but she could be mesmerizing if she tried to pretty herself up some. Brown hair done in probably the same style it has been for the past someteenth months. Maybe years. Baggy shirt that hides all of her upper figure, save for that tremendous rack she couldn't keep hidden if she tried. Jeans giving off her lack of an ass and skinny, fit legs. A pair of brown Converse that shouldn't match with her outfit, yet don't look too bad next to the navy and denim blues drowning her petite frame. Definitely a tomboy. And, by the way she curiously eyes me before avoiding eye contact, I'd say she might not be entirely sure which side of the fence she's on.
Well, that last observation's debatable.
Until I enter the equation, of course.
I move by her to take a seat. From there, I watch my new target slowly approach the desk separating her from the other girl and I wait for the right moment to act.
"Can I help you?" Office aide girl displaying the once-mythical southern hospitality I had never believed in before moving here.
Hey- can you blame me? My state's motto is "Don't mess with Texas". There's nothing hospitable about that.
"I need a schedule." As the brunette says the words, she shows the girl something. From where I sit, I can only guess what it is.
The girl nods and looks to the computer next to her. "Which student?"
The answer surprises me. "The new girl."
The office aide doesn't move. Instead, she momentarily eyes me.
Unexpectedly attractive girl looking for me?
Now seems like a good time to enter the conversation.
"Who's looking for me?"
Finally, the brunette turns and acknowledges me. No smile, not even a slight look of intrigue. Just a simple question. "Shouldn't you be in class?"
Not exactly what I was expecting.
I answer, cool and confident. "History's not all it's cracked up to be- think I'm going to switch classes. Which one do you take this hour?"
She ignores yet another one of my questions. "You just got here and you're already in trouble? That's gotta be some kind of record."
Another pick-up line, hopefully more successful than the last. "If you think that's remarkable, you should see what else I'm capable of."
She doesn't respond, her gaze shifting over to the office aide already busying herself with other work. She approaches me and takes a seat in the chair next to mine. At first, she looks to a random point on the wall. Then, her eyes return to me.
She speaks in a quiet voice. "Are you flirting with me?"
A grin surfaces. "Maybe. Do you plan on flirting back?"
She nervously plays with the object in her hand- something resembling a laminated hall pass attached to a lanyard. I lose her gaze again.
Trying to regain her attention, I hold out my copy of my schedule. "Here."
As she goes to grab it, her eyes skim the printed text. Her hand retreats before touching the paper.
"You have a class with me." She utters as if she regrets it.
"I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other in the near future."
She stands up suddenly, heading for the door.
That usually doesn't happen.
She stops, looking over her shoulder. "You're-"
I try to help her out. "Persuasive? Charming? Fun?"
"Not what I expected."
None of the above.
And then she leaves.
New plan- turn small-town girl into a sexy, sinful lesbian.
The moment I decide to follow her, I hear an unfamiliar voice call my name. "Miss Oan?"
I feel old when people call me by my last name. Old and boring like that history teacher.
Turning away from the door, I find the principal staring down at me. So much for chasing after that nameless girl. Oh well- she said she had a class with me. I'd eventually see her again.
Now, to mend my mistakes.
Being polite and mannered. "Yes, sir?"
"I've been told you're having problems adjusting to our school." He's scolding me, but he makes it sound as if I'm about to win a prize.
This could go on forever. I know what he wants to hear and I want to get out of here as soon as possible.
"I just started off on the wrong foot." People love cliches. "I promise it won't happen again."
Like taking cake from a blind person.
"I'm glad to hear that. You may go back to class, Miss Oan."
When he returns to his office, I find the office aide girl watching me.
Now, where were we? I grin. "So, about that bathroom break..."
I decide to make everyone happy. The history teacher probably thinks I'm receiving just punishment. The principal thinks I'm learning about the Spanish-American War for the eighth time in my life. And me- I avoid both and follow the cute office aide girl into the nearest girls' room. As I have her against a wall in one of the stalls, I can't help but think about my new target.
I don't know who you are, my awkward bi-curious brunette, but one day I'll have you on your back, begging for me to take you.