Chapter 9: Valentine’s Day History

I despair that I will miss Mr.Hosen’s class until two older girls arrive.

A chubby girl showing her thong panties under raven black tights, a dark red bra under a translucent pink shirt, thick fluorescent pink eyeshadow with matching lipstick, dark brown oversized, teased, and sprayed hair combine to give her a mature appearance.

Her partner appears even more mature with a long army green jacket over a black shirt and pants with dyed coal-black hair covering most of her face.

Ignoring me, they sit on either side and pull out their metallic white phones.

I use their arrival to leave for class.

I briefly consider changing my clothes, but I can’t miss any part of hunky Mr.H’s class, my moistening pussy spurs me to run.

“Abigail!”

Of course.

I switch to walking fast, purposely staring forward and not at the principal standing to my right.

“See me after school.”

Oh shit, now I’m in trouble.

I acknowledge with a nod and continue my speed walk to class.

Everyone cheers at my arrival, believing I’m delivering a telegram.

“Class, quiet.”

Mr.Hosen perfectly controls the class.

“Who are you here for?”

He asks with hope in his voice. Did he want another singing telegram from me?

“You, I mean, class.”

I rush to my seat in the front row beside Sonia.

“So funny, the way you said you were here for Mr. H.”

Sonia whispers, then adds.

“I mean, I’m here for him.”

We all are. Well, the girls are plus one or two guys.

Mr.Hosen launches into a lecture on the Saint Valentine’s Day Massacre.

When he mentions a gangster getting drilled by a bullet, he glances in my direction. When he mentions how wet with blood the dead gangsters were, he stares directly at me. I lick my lips, remembering earlier. I lean forward to display my breasts for him.

Sonia whispers to me.

“I think Mr.H likes me. He keeps looking at me.”

Maybe. Sonia has actual breasts and appears much older.

My heart breaks at what must be true.

About halfway through the lecture, Mr.Hosen stops in mid-sentence and announces a movie for the class. Everyone turns to face the back, where he pulls a large white screen from the ceiling. Returning to the front, he turns off the lights and starts a movie about the Valentine’s Day Massacre.

He then walks over to us. Sonia bounces in her chair. I focus on the movie instead of those two.

“Abigail, I need you at my desk.”

Sonia frowns as I follow him back to his desk.

He sits while I stand, nervous to be highlighted in the light spilling in from the door window.

“Abigail, you look good in that outfit.”

Mr Hosen whispers to me, barely audible above the movie. His complement sends chills down my spine.

“Why don’t you watch the movie from here?”

The big bulge in his lap is the only place to sit. I quickly sit down. His hard penis presses into my moist and wanting pussy.

He pushes me off. My desire evaporates while my heart breaks at being rejected.

“That’s not appropriate here.”

He whispers in anger.

Now what? Do I just stand here?

The class blows up in laughter at something in the movie.

I focus through my anguish. It’s just some old police officer waving around an old-fashioned billy club.

“I strikes him in the beezer ‘cause he tried to blip me off.”

The police officer intones while immature grade nine boys laugh at the funny words.

I’m facing the movie when Mr.Hosen’s hand presses into my little cunny from behind. I gasp and place my hands on his desk for support.

Sonia turns to stare at us. Thankfully, I’m obscuring Mr.Hosen’s view of Sonia, so he continues his lovely rubbing.

The doorway light highlights for Sonia what is happening.

She grins and gives me a thumbs up.

Oh, his fingers rub so good. I suffer from sexual desire. I can’t have an orgasm here, in class, with Sonia staring at me.