Chapter 4

(Femslash. Rory/Paris/Ms. Peters. Notes. This story takes place after my story "Detention". As far as I can determine Ms. Peters, the faculty advisor for "The Franklin" never had her first name given. Therefore I have chosen one for her. As always, the characters are not mine. They are the creation of Amy Sherman-Palladino and belong to the WB and the CW. These events take place however in the spring of the characters' final year at Chilton. Since Rory's birthday is October 8th and Paris was born in December by that time they would have both unquestionably been over 18.)

The two weeks leading up to graduation seemed to be an eternity for all three women. Not that it wasn't busy. There were papers to be written and be graded; there were classes to take and be taught; there were simply a multitude of things to do for all concerned as the school year drew to a close.

All the hustle and bustle did not mean that what Rory and Paris thought of as "The Quest" was allowed to subside. Indeed, they found that the frantic efforts of everyone at Chilton to bring the school year to another triumphant finish allowed them even more opportunities for both their passions; each other and their combined pursuit of their faculty advisor Ms. Peters.

In fact, they found one way to combine both. Careful planning brought them together one afternoon in the composing room of "The Franklin" when they knew everyone else would be occupied elsewhere. Everyone but the object of their little exercise.

The door leading from Ms. Peters' office to the room was "accidentally" left cracked open. The duo listened with beating hearts, waiting to hear the now familiar footsteps of their quarry.

"Where IS she?" whispered Paris, never one to accept waiting as a viable alternative to just about anything at all.

"Patience, she'll be here," replied Rory.

"But the faculty meeting should have been over ten minutes ago!"

"Mr. Charleston probably had more to pontificate over," giggled Rory.

"Yes but I'm nervous and I'm ready to get started!"

"You are?" said Rory, with a wicked smile on her face as she turned to face her best friend and lover.

"Rory! What are you doing?" demanded Paris. The question was purely rhetorical as what her girlfriend was doing was quite obvious. One hand was sliding up the outside of her leg and disappearing under her skirt. The other was opening the buttons of her own blouse until the blonde girl could see the small but firm breasts hidden only by a white low-cut bra.

"Mmmmph!" was the reply. That reply was muffled because Rory was kissing Paris by now, a deep open mouth kiss that swept the shorter girl away to a world inhabited just by the two of them.

The original idea the girls had was that they would wait until they heard Ms. Peters returning to her office and then engage in kissing and a bit of petting. However, it having been days since she and Paris had been able to spend time together, Rory found herself unable to either wait for the teacher's arrival or stick with just kissing.

Having opened her blouse enough to expose her bra Rory moved her hand to the back of Paris' neck, holding her friend's mouth to her own as their kiss became deep and passionate. She curled her fingers and began to stroke the inside of one smooth thigh with the tips. The other girl moaned into her mouth and her legs parted, allowing the brunette access.

Instead of taking immediate advantage of her friend's open stance Rory teased one inner thigh and then the other. Her nails were trimmed short, but there was enough to raise a crop of goose bumps as they scratched so very lightly on skin that was already becoming damp from Paris' arousal.

Never one to simply remain a bystander, Paris wrapped one arm around Rory's waist and pulled her in against her own body. Her other hand squirmed between the two students. The remaining buttons of the taller girl's blouse gave way one by one, allowing a warm palm to touch a now bare firm tummy and began to rub there.

Now Rory was matching her friend moan for moan. Her fingers crept higher, brushing against the white panties that stood between them and the damp blonde curls they concealed. A slender middle finger hooked the cotton crotch and pulled it to one side, allowing Rory's index finger to work its way between Paris' already puffy labia. The blonde's legs parted even more and that finger plunged into her pussy.

Paris began to flex her knees, riding on first the single finger penetrating her and then the second one that joined it. Using both hands she pulled open Rory's blouse. She hooked her fingers inside the lace cups of the taller girl's bra and yanked, spilling the other teen's breasts. Those same fingers seized the rigid pink nipples and started rolling and tugging them.

The girls were still lost in their own world when Ms. Peters finally returned to her office. Unaware of the plans of a certain pair of students she had stopped to chat with a couple of friends after the faculty meeting had finally ended. She caught sight of the slightly open door. Scolding herself for leaving it ajar she looked through the gap as her hand reached for the knob.

Her hand never touched the door knob. The soft moans coming from the other room and the sight of what her two favorite students were doing to each other froze her.

Rory's blouse was open to her waist and her bra had been wrenched down, exposing both her breasts. Not that a great deal of them could be seen, as Paris had a grip on her friend's nipples that under other circumstances might be painful. The look on the taller girl's face showed that the reverse was true, that she was enjoying the blonde's pulls and pinches. Her head was tipped back and her beautiful blue eyes were closed. A smile played over her lips, punctuated by an occasional gasp as Paris tugged harder.

Paris' skirt had fallen down over Rory's hand, covering exactly what the brunette was doing. There was no doubt in the pretty black haired teacher's mind exactly what that was however. Squelching noises loud enough to reach her ears and the wild bucking of the blonde's hips left very little to the imagination. Then imagination was thrown to the winds as the girls' gyrations against each other bunched Paris' skirt around her waist.

Droplets of nectar hung in the blonde bush that covered the heel of Rory's hand. That heel ground itself in a tight circular motion against the top of the shorter girl's pussy. Angelina judged from the gasping sounds that Paris was trying to suppress that heel was crushing her clit. The squelching soubnds came from two or possibly even three fingers that were pumping in and out of the blonde.

Paris twisted and her right thigh jammed itself between Rory's legs. Without slowing in the slightest the motions of the hand that was driving her friend over the edge, the tall brunette student began to ride her lover's leg. A leg that was already wet with the juices her ministrations had produced.

Angelina hauled up her tight skirt and plunged her between her legs. Frantic to catch up she didn't bother to slide her hand inside her pantyhose but simply rubbed herself right through the already wet nylon. She cupped her breast with her other hand, easily able to feel the hardness of her nipple through her blouse and bra. Her heart in her throat as she watched the two young women making passionate love to each other. Her fingers blurred, rubbing herself so hard she had a fleeting thought that had she not been so thoroughly soaked from what she was seeing she would have caught fire. Indeed, she brought herself to climax in record speed.

Just in time. For as she shook to her orgasm Paris' eyes opened wide. The dark brown eyes focused on nothing as she convulsively jerked on Rory's nipples. Both girls managed to smother cries of passion, but just barely. Rory bounced so hard on the thigh grinding against her she nearly knocked them both to the floor.

What could have happened next would remain anybody's guess as the sound of people talking in the hall brought all three women back to the present. Angelina pushed her skirt down and smoothed it, an action copied by Paris as Rory fought to pull her bra up and button her blouse. By the time the visitors, a pair of teachers from the English Department, knocked on Angelina's door the passage door had been eased shut, blocking the sight of the two lurking students and the advisor was sitting in her chair composing her expression to normal. Barely.

As for Paris and Rory they slipped away while the conversation drowned out their movements. Both had smiles on their faces, not only from the pleasure they had given each other but from the whispered words the taller girl had spoken. Words that were about a slender figure that Rory had glimpsed through the door.