It was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Annually on this day, the teachers at Gray Elementary would get together and go drink and dance and joke around. Then a few of us would end up at the ridiculously huge house of the assistant principal, Mrs. Reid, to pick up our cars or freshen up or just pass out.

This year, we were joined by one of the new teachers named Margie, wearing a thin, silky camisole under her coat and ridiculously tight jeans.

All evening, she was either giggling about anything or whining to me about her difficult class and disrespectful third graders. I found it amusing she was complaining in front of Mrs. Reid, who could factor in whether this newbie gets rehired or not.

After a slew of margaritas, I wanted to find a place to rest before driving home. I used one of Mrs. Reid’s guest bedrooms. Margie, who had been annoying me, chatting with me, dancing with me and touching me all evening, came into the room I was in.

“Maybe I should just quit,” she announced.

I groaned, wanting to tell her to do so and stop wasting everyone’s time. Instead, I gave her a hug and sat her down.

“Don’t quit,” I said. “Everyone’s first year sucks.”

“But the kids hate me now,” she whined for the umpteenth time.

“Yeah, but school’s done for the week. Worry about that next week.”

I didn’t know what else she wanted from me. I was giving her all the fake comfort I could muster. I sat at the edge of the bed holding her, practically cradling her, while she wept softly into my shoulder. We were already so close together, yet she was grabbing onto me, pressing herself into me, while she sobbed, wetting my sweater. And her hand was on my breast.

I pulled her back to say, “Hey, you’ll be okay,” with a comforting smile.

She nodded, but instead of calming down, she threw her arm around my neck, kissed my cheek, and continued resting her face on my shoulder.

She was turning her body towards me, holding me tighter, her chest pressed against mine. A nipple brushed against mine. I gave out a nervous laugh, but she seemed oblivious.

Was she trying to sit on my lap?

As she moved to make herself comfortable, it seemed like she was starting to straddle me.

“Margie,” I finally said.

She sniffled and kissed my face again. I rolled my eyes at how silly and emotional she was.

“Margie, you’re okay now,” I said.

“I know, I know,” she said but still kissed my face and sniffled. The tears from her cheeks were spilling onto my face.

“We should get up,” I said.

“No,” she begged. “Not yet.”

I gasped a little when her face was right smack in front of mine. She was inching closer, too. I gave out a nervous laugh and she responded with a soft giggle of her own. I stammered, trying to find words, but nothing came out. She laughed at that, too. Our noses were touching. Her eyes were closing. And before I could say anything, her lips were on mine.

Her hands were on my face. Then her fingers were running through my hair. Next, her arms were wrapping around my head. And her tongue pried its way into my mouth. I moaned a little protest, but my tongue moved towards hers.

I pulled myself away.

“Margie!” I said.

She stammered, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Kerry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Oh, my God.”

I straightened out my hair and took a deep breath. She situated herself next to me again, with an arm still around my waist.

I wiped her saliva from my lower lip.

“Look, I just wanted to take a quick nap here…” I started to say.

She nodded quickly, but then took my hand and kissed my fingers. I thought she was looking down, embarrassed. But it seemed more like she was staring at my breasts, covered under my green dress but poking out of the unbuttoned black knit sweater.

As I watched her eyes track my body down to my bare knees and my black flats and back up to my breasts, I thought to myself, this girl is checking me out.

I certainly never thought about a woman like that. I have a husband at home who still calls me sexy. I’ve had a few boyfriends and a couple one-night stands in my life. But I’ve always been conservative sexually. This was just too weird.

It must be the margaritas, I said to myself, as she held my hand, playing with my fingers.

I stood up, my head spinning a little.

“I should go,” I said, ready to leave.

“Jenny, wait,” she said.

When I turned to her, she dropped my hand and put her hands on my thighs instead. She scooted up to the edge of the bed with me standing between her legs and rested her head on my stomach.

I touched the top of her head in an awkward “there, there” pat.

“You were always so nice to me, Jenny,” she said.

Which made me feel bad, since the other teachers and I often badmouth her when she’s not there.

“Everybody loves you,” she whined.

Which was true, I thought.

“You’re beautiful and you’re fun and you’re strict and you’re firm and…”

Well, don’t stop there, I thought with a smile.

I felt her hands running up under my dress.

I gasped and jumped.

She giggled.

I squirmed.

She caressed my skin, touched the silk of my underwear, gave my butt cheeks a gentle squeeze, and then turned her face and kissed me squarely between my legs. I gasped again when she nibbled. Then she nuzzled her face against me.

She scooted back on the bed, leaving her shoes behind. I stood there a bit disturbed. She inched back, giving me this wicked, mischievous grin.

“You’ve never been with another woman,” she teased.

“I don’t see the point,” I said absently while I stared at her unbuttoning her jeans. “What are you—?”

“I can’t sleep with these on,” she said.

“You, you’re sleeping here?”

She simply smiled with a playful shrug.

“Then I’ll go…” I started to say, but I was mesmerized as she slid her pants down under her butt. She stretched her feet towards me.

“Help me,” she said.

After a second of hesitation, I grabbed at her jeans and yanked them. We peeled them off and she laid there in her white underwear, her legs spread open, inviting me in.

“Come on,” she said.

I shook my head. She motioned for me to come. I stared at the door.

“Nobody’s coming,” she said.

Yeah, right, I thought. This was probably the same silly behavior that made her so dang popular with the kids—at least for the first couple of months, before they realized she was a pushover.

I was looking away, hearing my own breaths, wondering what the hell I was doing with this bimbo. I felt her foot tap my thigh. Her foot kicked over the lacey hem of my dress. I felt her toes on my skin. She had her tongue out, making this playful face, as she slid her foot up between my legs. She slid her toe back and forth.

After a second, I gasped and grabbed that naughty foot and gave her a stern look.

And I found myself stroking that foot. What the hell am I doing? I wondered. She liked the way I was touching it.

She sat up at the edge of the bed, legs curled under her. She played with my knit sweater before taking it off. She played with the straps of my green dress…before gently sliding them over my shoulders and breasts and letting the dress drop the floor.

I was still frozen, breathing harder, staring at her playful eyes, shuffling my feet like one of my second graders, while I let her take off my bra.

Her hands were warm on my skin as she guided me to the bed.

I slowly took the shoes off. I put a knee on the bed. She grinned and laid herself back on the bed. I bit my lip. And then, God help me, I crawled onto the bed in front of this young woman.

I ran my fingertips up and around her smooth thighs and her enviably tight stomach and grabbed a handful of her perky little breasts and those hard nipples. She took off her camisole to let me touch her some more. Then, I nestled on top of her between her legs, wrapping my arms around her lovely little body.

She was responding to my every touch with a gasp or a moan or a lilting, “Ooh.”

She pulled me into another kiss. I didn’t fight it this time. Instead, I got lost in it. When she stopped, I kept it going. Me. Wanting more and more of her mouth and her tongue and her sexiness.

She pushed me onto my back on the bed. She pulled my underwear off. She lay on her belly between my legs. Her face was smack dab in front of my genitalia.

Am I going to like this? I wondered.

She kissed softly at first. Her hands rested on my thighs. My hands caressed her forearms. When she started licking, I jerked a little.

Oh, wow, I kinda, sorta, really like this, I thought with surprise and concern.

I must’ve had a weirded-out expression on my face, because she laughed a little before continuing.

She was using her tongue, her mouth, her finger, and oh my God.

One, no, two fingers were inside me.

Her tongue was on the outside, spiraling its way to my…

“Shit!” I yelled out—and I never curse.

I grabbed a throw pillow and clenched my teeth, not wanting to yell out again. The sensation was getting too much and I tried to turn away from her. She wasn’t having it. She kept at me and even dipped a finger into my anus, making me jump and curse again.

That wicked tongue of hers was too good.

“Enough, enough,” I said, between hard breaths. “Oh, God, enough. Wow.”

She released me.

I curled up. I felt tears coming on.

She moved up, and I wrapped her in my arms and kissed her with such love and gratitude that she looked surprised. She kept a hand there between my legs to keep stimulating me. My body kept squirming in delight as I looked into her eyes.

“You’re so good at this,” I said.

She laughed that off and kissed me, but I worried that she’d expect me to perform the same magic on her as she did on me.

Instead, she sat on top of me, one leg between mine. It seemed she was trying to press her vulva against mine. I watched her young face, focused and persistent, trying to make it work.

“What is this?” I said.

“Shh,” she said, trying to press into me.

She was mostly rubbing herself on my upper thigh. That was cute, but I was curious about how she tried to make our “lady bits” touch. I had an idea.

Just do it, Jenny, I told myself.

I thrust my body up, knocking her over. She yelped and I held her down on the bed.

“Jenny!” she said, surprised at my move.

I pushed her legs up and pressed my larger body against hers.

“Oh, my God, yes, Jenny,” she said.

I had her feet in the air, her heels on my shoulder. I pressed my fists onto the bed and was able to grind, grind, just mesh myself into her. I had never done anything like this before and was shocked at myself, the way I was riding her.

It wasn’t easy, keeping our “lips” on top of each other. But by God, I did it. And when our special spots would rub against one another, we were both cooing and cursing and crying out.

I was pushing into her so much we were almost falling off the bed. The bed was creaking so much I was afraid we’d break it and have to explain how and why to Mrs. Reid. But I didn’t want to stop.

From under me, Margie was able to grab at my breasts and stare into my eyes and moan at my face. She looked so young and sweet and sexy and needy and horny and pitiable and...

Oh, God, I think I love this girl, I said to myself. I wanted to say it out loud, but I felt silly. I bit my lip instead.

She threw her head back and cried out and collapsed.

I dragged us back to the center of the bed. I was ready to lie next to her when she whispered…

“Go down on me.”

Damn, I thought.

“Please,” she hissed, when I hesitated.

I nodded and pecked and licked her young face. I kissed her skinny neck and her bony shoulders. I was happy to see those pert little nipples again and sucked on those for a while. I kissed her belly button.

And then I was face to face with her womanhood.

I was nervous.

I took a deep breath.

I gave it a quick peck.

“Ah!” she said suddenly.

Ah, she’s just being nice, I told myself. I gulped and kissed it again, longer this time.

“Yes!” she gasped.

You can do it, I cheered myself on as I kissed, then added licking, then nibbling.

Her thighs were clasped around my head. My face was in such a hot space I was surprised I could breathe. After a few twists and jerks, she was writhing around in the bed. I figured I was doing something right. I licked away at her.

“Oh, fuck,” she cried out. “Oh, God, fuck.”

I really put my tongue to work. With my free hands, I could touch and stroke her beautiful, sensitive body and grab at her small breasts.

There were some weird, guttural sounds coming out of her. Encouraged by that, I kept licking her sweet spot until she was groaning through clenched teeth. I used my middle finger, too, the way she had done, to penetrate her.

She shook and cried out and twisted her body away from me. She grabbed a handful of my hair and was pulling it. Hard. She winced and strained until at last she collapsed with a loud and long exhale.

I looked down at her, liking how worn out she looked. I was darn-tootin’ proud of myself as I wiped her wetness from my face.

“Hold me,” she whimpered between spasms, her arms out.

I threw myself on top of her, scooping her into my arms, rolling her over so that she was on top of me, and just held her tight and cradled her tenderly while she trembled and finally rested in my arms.

“I’m your cuddle bunny,” she muttered.

“Hmm, what?” I whispered back.

But she was falling asleep.

I watched her delicate face and kissed it. She smiled in her half-sleep and gave out these little moans I found so cute.

I fixed her hair and held her face and touched her chin and her lips and kissed her forehead. I liked her head on my bosom.

After a while, remembering a home to make and a turkey feast to prepare, I reluctantly disentangled myself from her. While she lay there, I was able to delicately pull the blanket from under her and cover her with it. I grabbed my clothes, ready to go home to the husband, the two boys, the two dogs and my one cat.

I looked back at Margie.

Then I sent the hubby a text message saying I’d see them in the morning.

I tossed my clothes onto a nearby moon chair with my purse. I slid back into bed with her. I wanted to make out with her while she slept. But my husband did that once to me and I didn’t care for it. So, I just held her.

I resolved then and there to become her mentor, to help her become a better teacher, to give her some support instead of just making fun of her with the other schoolmarms.

I kissed her a few times before falling asleep with her.

We woke up Thanksgiving morning, with Mrs. Reid and her doctor husband looking at us with this bemused look on their faces, telling us to stay for breakfast and watch the holiday parade on her huge TV.

I took a quick shower—alone. We ate a little, joked a little, told Mrs. Reid some ideas we had about our classrooms, then went our separate ways for the long holiday weekend.

By the next Monday, we were inseparable.