The A.V. Club - Ch. 20

A Novel by J.K. Ermon (jokermon)

Chapter Twenty: Smokin' in the Girls' Room

This is a work of erotic fantasy fiction for the entertainment of adults only. Everything in this story is imaginary and is not meant to represent any real-life people, events, or medical conditions. It contains explicit futanari (hermaphrodite) content. If that's not your thing, or if reading this type of material is unlawful where you reside, don't read it. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years of age or older, even if it seems otherwise for dramatic or narrative purposes. Please enjoy this story responsibly and do not repost without permission. This story is copyright©2016 J.K. Ermon.

~~~

I had an uncomfortable moment the next day when I ran into Gladys Nessman in Grant High's main office.

I'd been called in during my afternoon study hall break for more filing. When you're a nerd, you have to take the extra credits where you can. The administration was well aware of this and exploited us shamelessly. All the school secretaries hustled off to the staff break room the second I arrived.

So there I was, sorting, stapling and shuffling when someone said my name.

"Robert...?"

I looked up. Gladys was standing there, looking absolutely shocked to see me.

Damn, Auld Nessie's looking great.

That was first thought that popped into my head. It was accurate. Gladys was dressed a lot less severely than she usually did, and looked better for it. She wore an open-throated blouse, a blazer and a pencil skirt that stopped at her knees instead of her heels. Her exposed neck was accentuated with a pearl choker. Most of her hair was still braided up, but today she had some of it flowing loosely around her shoulders. It was an attractive choice.

She looked...a lot more robust than I remembered. Despite the silver hair and wrinkles, she had an underlying vitality that wasn't there before. There was nothing brittle about her anymore. It made me think of Harold. Her eyes were bright and focused, and right now they were focused on me.

"H-hello, Gladys."

"Are you...working here?"

"Yes." I had a brainstorm. "I'm a temp. They needed extra office help." It wasn't even technically a lie.

"I thought...we used student volunteers for that."

Volunteers, I thought. Yeah right. The administration knew full well this wasn't volunteer work. It was coercion. It was indentured servitude.

"I guess none were available." Again, not a lie. I was the only one of us who had study hall this period Thursday.

"I suppose." She paused. "It's just...surprising to see you here. Where I work."

I dug deep and fast into my emergent bag of tricks and smiled. "A nice surprise, I hope."

She immediately smiled back as my essence manifested. She even flushed a little bit. "Very...much so. I...have an appointment with Principal Stankovic. It's very nice to see you."

"You too, Gladys."

She turned towards the principal's inner sanctum and paused. She spoke to me in a low voice.

"Will I see you tonight? At the Fotomat?"

Whoa. "Sure. Looking forward to it."

She gave me a startlingly roguish smile. "Me too."

She disappeared into the Stank's office. Moments later I heard his raised voice saying: "What?"

I sidled over and pretended to look something up in one of the filing cabinets by his office door. I eavesdropped, but could only catch fragments of the conversation.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said.

"I'm not," she replied. "I'm overdue, as you well know..." Then her voice dipped below audible level. I strained my ears, but couldn't catch it.

Principal Stank shot back, loud and clear: "Where am I going to find a full-time permanent replacement in the middle of spring session?"

Wow, I thought. Is Gladys finally pulling the pin?

"I'm not doing this to make your life difficult," she answered distinctly. "I am alive, Ollie, and I need to do more with the time I have left than teach sewing and baking to half-awake girls."

The Stank sighed loud enough for me to hear it out in the main office.

"Okay," he said. "I understand that. But who's going to handle that Hag-bred girl you've been tutoring?"

"She's quitting. She said she was leaving school to go on the sausage circuit, whatever that is. Tomorrow's her last day."

She's lying, I thought. I knew for a fact that Emily had no intentions of dropping out and I could also hear the deceptive intent in Gladys' voice. I was equally certain Principal Stankovic couldn't.

"Do her parents know this?" he asked.

"It's irrelevant," she said. "The girl's eighteen and as of tomorrow, she's no longer our problem."

"Well." I heard the creak of Stank leaning back in his chair. "That settles that." He sounded surprisingly happy. "Thank heaven for small mercies, I suppose."

That was followed by a bunch of inaudible murmurs back and forth. Then I heard the Stank say plaintively: "Gladys, what brought this on?"

She answered him in a low and sincere voice that I couldn't parse for the life of me. She went on at length. Then I heard furniture shift as the Stank stood up.

Okay, they're coming out.

I scooted away from the door. I sat at one of the far desks with my back to them and buried myself in my unpaid student labor.

"It's a damn shame," I heard him say as they both walked out of the office. "We're going to miss you around here."

"If this place survived Ziggy Owens, it can survive my retirement," she answered. "I'll see you in the staff room in a minute."

The Stank left, and a moment later I felt Gladys' hand on my shoulder.

"Robert," she said, "Could I ask a favor of you?"

I looked up. "Sure."

"I'd like to see one of the student files."

"Sure, whose?"

She looked around to make sure we were alone. She kept her eyes on the entrance as she spoke in a low voice: "An Emily Agnes Rosemary McPherson."

I was glad she was looking away from me. My face would have surely betrayed my shock.

"No problem," I croaked. I got up and fetched it.

She opened the folder, flipped through it and removed a few pages. Then, right in front of me, she tore them up and dumped them into a wastepaper basket. To my further surprise, she pulled a few sheets of typed paper from her purse and put them in Emily's folder to replace the ones she destroyed. Then she handed the folder back to me.

"Thank you," she said. "You can keep this under your hat, right?"

"No problem," I said. "But...what was that all about?"

"Nothing," she said. "I just...wanted to give one of my students a fair shake, that's all."

"Okay..."

"There were," she explained, "some things in her past that might...make things difficult for her. She doesn't deserve that. Can I rely on you to be discreet?"

"Absolutely," I said.

"Good," she replied warmly. She looked around quickly again and then leaned in and kissed me on the lips. She caressed the back of my neck, pressing me into it.

"I'll see you tonight," she said in a low and astonishingly sexy voice full of promise.

"See you tonight," I croaked.

She left, following the Stank. For a moment I just sat there, a little dazed by the suddenness and ferocity of the erection she gave me. Then I blinked, got myself together and checked what Gladys had done to Emily's file.

Every mention of my girlfriend being emergent was gone.

I flipped through it again, double and triple-checking. Everything else was there, all her academic records, right down to the correspondence courses she was currently taking. But there was nothing about her emergence. Gladys had replaced every piece of paper that reported it with carefully innocuous, doctored copies. The Reason for Academic Re-Streaming was now listed as recovering from enochlophobia.

Fear of crowds, I thought. I sat back, a little stunned.

From this point forward, as far as Grant High's administration knew, Emily was just an ordinary student. Starting Monday, she'd be taking her Arts and Home Economics classes in the main school building with all the other students.

Well that's big news, I thought. I fingered one of the pages. Enochlophobia. That's clever.

I sensed the hand of Emily in this.

~~~

I never got a chance to talk with my girlfriend about it that day. She was busy servicing my friends and Thursdays were the one day my schedule and theirs didn't overlap.

When I got home from school, I maintained the fiction that I was still working to my parents. Alison didn't give me any sidelong smirks about it, so I was grateful for that. My sister was keeping the peace.

I headed out when I usually would, but went to Corso's pizzeria instead. I did my homework at a booth while consuming some of their excellent double cheese pepperonis and washing them down with Orange Nehi. I could afford it, thanks to Harold. It was good to be flush with cash, even if I wasn't entirely happy about how I got it.

When eight o'clock rolled around, I headed over to the Sears plaza. I parked well away from the Fotomat hut. No sooner did I kill the ignition than Gladys's black Lincoln arrived, and I flashed my headlights at her.

She pulled up alongside me and rolled down her window. Her hair was down and it was surprisingly long and wavy. No glasses. She was wearing a red silk blouse with the top three buttons undone. She'd replaced her pearl choker with one made of black ribbon. It was...very erotic.

"Are you up for an adventure?" she asked. That roguish glint was back.

"Sure," I said.

"Good," she said. "Follow me."

She pulled out of the Sears lot, and I tailed her onto highway 52.

Fifteen minutes later she pulled into the Ohio River Inn, a motel south of Point Pleasant in Brown County. I understood what she was planning. I parked a few cars over from hers and watched her get out and go into a room. I made a note of the door number, then followed.

She opened the door to my knock and pulled me inside.

"Hello Robert," she said with a smile, and then wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me aggressively. I tried to say 'hello' back but all I could enunciate was "heyumph."

When she finally broke the kiss, she sighed deeply and smiled. "Oh, I've been looking forward to that all week."

I returned the smile, a little goofily. "I hope it was worth the wait."

She laughed and kissed me again. "More than worth it. I hope you don't mind me getting this room, I've discovered I really prefer a bed for this kind of thing."

"Me too," I said with feeling. There was a certain clandestine charm to malt shop sex, but cramped and furtive conditions can only remain romantic for so long. There was also something spicy about a secret motel rendezvous with an older woman. A much older woman.

She turned off all the lights except one solitary bedside table lamp.

"Undress me?" she said.

I took her in my arms and kissed her. Somehow I was able to coordinate that with unbuttoning and opening things. Clothes fell to the floor and we drifted onto the bed.

She was wearing all black lingerie: a filmy bra-and-panty set with lace-topped thigh-highs. She let me take off her bra and panties but kept on the choker and black stockings. It was a good choice.

The ambient light was soft and dim, but it was still the best look I'd ever gotten at Gladys' body. She looked surprisingly good. There was the odd sag and wrinkle here and there, but she had great skin overall. Her breasts were bigger than I thought they'd be. They weren't firm, but very full and soft, and her nipples were the color of red wine. My body responded to her.

She smiled at my erection. It was a smile full of gratitude, and strangely, relief.

Was she worried she wouldn't arouse me?

If that was the case, she'd worried for nothing. As she began unbuttoning and removing my clothes, kissing and licking as she went, I didn't even have to voluntarily get my mojo going. It surged into life of its own accord. I felt hers respond. Everything was full steam ahead.

We embraced, and I slid into her pussy as easy as you please. She moaned with happiness.

~~~

Our lovemaking started out tender and considerate, then grew wild and passionate. I introduced her to doggie-style sex and she loved it. I explored Gladys and she me. We were both pleased with what we discovered. There was a depth and complexity to her emotions and her sexuality that intrigued me greatly. There was an intricacy to the texture of her that I'd seen in Dee-Dee but not in Emily.

She even had some surprises in store for me. When she gave me head, I was astounded at how much she'd improved. She was on par with Marianne, and that was no small feat. She even initiated anal with me - she was on all fours and just removed my penis from her vagina and moved it up to her asshole without warning. She pushed onto it. The ease with which she took me led me to believe she'd had experience with this kind of sex, which was mind-boggling.

Wow. Auld Nessie likes it in the ass. Ooh...

She willingly assumed each new position, tried each new variation. She dug her nails into my back and sobbed and cursed. We made each other come, and it was splendid, as Harold would say.

I had an odd thought as I screwed my hips into her: Wow, between her and Harold, sex with seniors is becoming my calling card.

During a breather, she asked me if I'd like to stay the night.

That was an easy one. "Sure."

When she went to the bathroom to freshen up, I called Mark on the motel room phone.

"Code pink," I said in a low voice. "Can you cover for me?"

Code pinks, up until that moment, had only existed on paper. They were to be used if one of us was getting lucky and needed somebody to run parental interference.

"Seriously?" Mark said.

"Yeah. Overnight cram session?"

"At my place?"

"Of course."

"Sure, okay."

"Thanks."

Next, I called home. My mother picked up on the second ring, and told her I was studying at Mark's and would be back in the morning. She wasn't thrilled about me being out late two nights in a row, but acquiesced. Then she asked me something that stopped me in my tracks.

"Bobby, is your sister doing drugs?"

"What? Alison? No way! What brought this on?"

"She just seems a lot more...calm, all of a sudden. And...happy."

Two things guaranteed to make my mother suspicious. I made a mental note to tell Alison to go easy on the J-juice.

"Well, maybe things are just going well for her, with school and stuff."

"Maybe. Anyway, you boys be good."

I heard Gladys singing happily in the shower. I smiled. I'd been very good indeed, and intended to be even better.

"We will, Mom. Bye."

I hung up and went to join Gladys in the bathroom.

~~~

I contemplated waking Gladys up to say goodbye before I left in the morning. It was barely five AM, and we'd screwed until well after midnight, but three or four hours of sleep seemed to do me just fine these days. I decided to let her sleep and left a thoughtful and highly complimentary note instead.

I was home before my family got up. I let myself in without rousing anyone. I went for my morning run, showered, changed, and was doing the last of my schoolwork on the kitchen table when Mom showed up to start breakfast. All in all, a highly successful tryst.

~~~

"Okay," I told Emily, "fess up. Have you been sleeping with Gladys Nessman?"

She looked at me. "Where on earth is that question coming from?"

We were in the portable. Friday noon. Postcoital.

I began ticking points off on my fingers. "Number one, she's stopped wearing her glasses. That was the first thing that happened to my friends after we starting seeing Pauline. Number two, she looks rejuvenated. And number three, she's suddenly a lot better in bed."

I kissed her temple. "And most of all, she altered your confidential student file. Now there's no mention of you being emergent anymore, and you're taking regular classes with other students Monday."

Emily blinked. "She did? Hang on, how do you know she did that?"

"She came into the office while I was working there and asked for your file. I saw her do it."

"So she knows you're a student here now?"

"No. She thinks I'm a college student. I made up a story about being a temp." I poked her. "And stop avoiding the question. Are you sleeping with her?"

"Well," she said, "there was no actual sleeping involved..."

"I knew it. How did that happen?"

"Well, she asked me."

"Sorry?"

"Last Friday. She asked me if it was true that Hag-bred girls knew about oral sex. That's how phrased it - 'oral sex.' She wanted to know if I could teach her how to get better at it."

"Ah," I said.

"Well, first off," she said primly, "I told her the proper term was emergent girls. Then I told her the only way to get better at it was to just practice a lot."

"I think I see where this is going."

Emily said disingenuously, "I told her I could show her how, but we'd have to use my penis for her training."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course you did."

She gave me a saucy grin. "At first, she was reluctant, but once I showed her what I could do with a cucumber, she fell right in line."

"You brought a cucumber to school?"

"No, silly, we were cooking. She was teaching me how to make Cobb salad." Her eyes were very innocent. "Turns out Gladys is a very quick study. It helps that she enjoys it so much. I almost had to pry her off of me when we were done. We went on to different kinds of sex after that."

"Emily McPherson, you are terrible."

She smiled. "I learned from the best."

"So why did she change your file?"

Emily looked bemused. "I wasn't aware she was going to. I didn't ask her to do that. But...I think I know why."

She snuggled a little closer to me. "Yesterday Gladys and I were talking about my future, how I wanted to go to Berkeley. She was concerned my emergent status might hamstring things with the guidance counselor." She shrugged. "I guess she just decided to do me a favor."

"Is there anyone else you're sleeping with that I don't know about?"

She grinned impishly. "Jealous?"

"Curious."

"Well..." She trailed off.

"Spill it."

She leaned towards me. "You know the girls' washroom in the basement?"

"The one that's always out of order?"

"The very same. Be there after school, three-ten on the dot. Hide in the stall farthest from the door. Keep your feet out of sight. All will be revealed."

Her conspiratorial glee was contagious. I grinned back at her.

"What are you up to?"

"You'll see. It's a surprise. A very nice surprise."

~~~

So, at ten-after three (exactly ten minutes before final bell), I hid myself in a stall in the abandoned girls' washroom in Grant High's basement.

The place smelled of old cigarettes and disinfectant. Sometimes girls would sneak in there for an illicit smoke during school hours. After school, it was a ghost town.

I sat on the throne cross-legged with my feet up so no one would know the stall was occupied. I uneasily noticed that the latch was gone and there was a round hole in the door, about two inches across, in its place. Luckily, the door sat on its hinges funny so it would stick in the jamb when you closed it. At least I didn't have to worry about it drifting open.

After about five minutes, Emily arrived. I recognized her footsteps.

"Bobby?"

"I'm in here."

Her eye appeared at the hole. It crinkled at me.

"Hey you, sneakypants."

"Emily...I'm starting to feel stupid here."