Chapter 7

Ellen Bixby stood in the mid-afternoon quiet of pale green corridor outside the principal's office, leaning back against the wall. She took several deep breaths to try to regain her composure. Quitting was a nerve-wracking business, especially when she knew that she was breaking her contract, that she had promised to stay on until the end of the term. All morning long she had been looking forward to this intend with the austere principal with considerable trepidation.

But now it was all over. And it hadn't been nearly as bad as she had anticipated it would be. The principal might be a rather conservative looking man with a deep-timbered voice which made him seem at once awesome and forbidding, but at heart he turned out to be a gentle and compassionate man. True, Ellen thought she detected a note of lecherous appreciation in his glance when she sat in the chair next to his desk and his eyes wandered none too subtly over the full lush curves of her voluptuous body. But all in all he had been nice enough, and had accepted her explanation without question.

Of course, she hadn't been entirely truthful with Mr. Beck. She had told him that Fletch would be stationed in Washington, which was true, but she had also implied that he would soon be transferred overseas and that this was the reason she wanted to join him now. As his wife, the government would pay for her transportation to join him. As his fianc‚, the government would pay nothing at all.

And so, in the end, Mr. Beck had agreed to let her out of her contract without penalty. As she left his office, he had smiled warmly, patted her on the shoulder, and wished her luck!

Now, in the corridor after her ordeal, which hadn't really been as traumatic and difficult as she had feared it would be, Ellen composed herself. Looking down at her wristwatch, she noticed that it was already nearly two-thirty-and she had set up an appointment with Mike for two-fifteen! Quickly, the sumptuous blonde scurried down the hallway, listening to the echo of her own footsteps, until at last she rounded the corner which led to her office.

She had to admit that Mike had changed a good deal over the past two months. At least, he had with her. And he was beginning to behave better in the classrooms, too, she was proud to note. He seemed now to display a certain grudging admiration for her, a new respect he had never felt for anyone before, and this attitude of trust was slowly being carried over to his teachers. She really hated to leave him, she realized. She had accomplished with that difficult boy exactly what she had set out to accomplish . . . and she was selfish to want to see her job through to its ultimate conclusions. She wanted to see Mike graduate next year with honors!

But that, of course, would be impossible now. In just two short weeks, she would be leaving Los Angeles, probably forever. She wondered how Mike would take the news . . .

As Ellen reached her office, she heard the sound of Mike's voice coming from within . . . but he was groaning! Was something wrong? Was he ill? Quietly, the voluptuous blonde Guidance Counselor opened the door and peeked inside . . .

There was Mike Easterbrook, his fair hair falling down over his eyes, sitting in the chair next to her desk. He was half turned away from the door . . . but even if he had been facing the door, he was much to preoccupied with what he was doing to notice anything!

Ellen saw, with open-mouthed consternation that Mike had unzipped his trousers and, with his eyes glued to the window opposite his chair, he had withdrawn his erectly growing cock and was stroking up and down its full length! Ellen knew that he didn't realize she was standing in the doorway watching, and she knew that she should have made her presence known right away. But something, some unknown and indefinable force, kept her still and quiet.

Oh Mike, she whispered silently to herself. You poor boy!

As she watched in surprised fascination, the boy's hand began to jerk faster and faster up and down the hardened length of his erectly pulsing cock. His eyes were still locked on the window opposite, as if he was drawing the inspiration for his lust from something he saw there. It was then that Ellen noticed with a startled shock that on the file cabinet next to the window was a picture of her and Fletch, taken at Fletch's graduation last June! Why, the boy must be looking at her!

The boy sat rocking in that hard wooden chair, stroking madly with his hand along the stiffened length of his rampantly excited prick. His hips rocked and his hands worked frantically, up and down, vigorously caressing the lust-swollen member to Ellen's wide-eyed fascination. Then, suddenly, Ellen heard him grunt softly and a thin white stream of fluid poured like flooding lava from the narrow slit at the end of his violently excited cock. Quickly, he leaned over the desk to grab a tissue from the dispenser there and then he pressed it over the head of his lust-lurching shaft.

Ellen stared, still silently, still mesmerized and saw a wet sticky stain quickly soaking through the paper tissue that concealed the head of his heatedly ejaculating prick from her gaze.

Oh Mike, she cried silently again. Oh, the poor dear boy! Why, he was apparently infatuated with her . . . that was why he had been so cooperative lately!

Well, she would just have to have a serious talk with the boy. That was all there was to it. She would also have to explain to him, as gently as possible, that she would be leaving Las Altas High School within a couple of weeks. Undoubtedly, he wouldn't take the news well, but she would rather tell him herself than have him hear it from his taunting fellow students.

After he had stuffed his now deflated cock back into his trousers, Ellen noisily opened the door of her office and slipped into her chair.

"Sorry I'm late, Mike," she said as calmly as she could, shuffling papers around on her desk so that she wouldn't have to look at the poor infatuated boy directly in the eye.

"Aw. . .that's okay. . . no sweat," he replied sulkily, as if he knew that there was some unfortunate news to come his way.

Ellen paused, gathering her courage. "Listen Mike," she began softly, hoping to keep the tremor out of her lovely young voice. "There is something I want to talk to you about." Then she hesitated, not really sure what to say next.

"Yeah?" the boy encouraged.

"Well . . . it's rather . . . personal, you see. And just between you and me. Perhaps you could come by my apartment this afternoon, after school. And we could talk about it there, without any time limit. I mean," she stuttered, "you have to be back in class in ten minutes. . . and that really isn't enough time. So, what do you say?"

"S-sure," the boy replied, a sense of doom slowly creeping over him. What could Miss Bixby possibly want to talk to him about that would be . . . so personal? Was it something about herself-or something about him? Mike began to become visibly worried, but then the softness of her voice reassured him.

"It's really okay, Mike. It's nothing to worry about. It's just that. . . well. . . " She paused, looking for just the right words. "I just think it will take longer than ten minutes . . . and it's important."

"Sure, no problem. I'll come by around four o'clock, how's that?" he smiled bravely.

"Fine, Mike. That's just fine."