Mr. Flowers Ch. 01

"Something on your mind?" Miss Foley asked, gesturing with a paint stained hand at Amy's uncharacteristic lack of productivity.

"No," Amy answered quickly.

"Is it a boy?" Miss Foley asked, "I've had that look on my face before."

"If it's ok, I'd rather not talk about it," Amy said.

"Ok, well if you feel like gossiping, it wasn't all that long ago I was where you were. Young crushes were always just so... thrilling."

Miss Foley was an eccentric woman. She was short and tiny, with a big mess of brown hair on her head, and a nose that almost wasn't there. She wore long sleeves at school, even on hot days because she had full sleeve tattoos, which she'd shown Amy. She kind of rocked it. And it wasn't uncommon for her to just gossip with Amy. They liked to talk about some teachers used to be like, and what some of the more visible students might end up being like.

Amy just smiled at her, and she went back to cleaning up. She had another class in 10 minutes, and she was buzzing about, setting up.

Finally Amy left school, Lizzie reminding her again about the party the next day, and she drove home. Still thinking about the cigarette break and thinking about the next one. She stopped at a gas station and picked up another pack of cigarettes, but only one book of matches. She liked the way they'd lit the last one.

She got home. She undressed and finally showered, letting the water caress her naked body. She looked down at herself. She looked pretty good from here. She cupped and soaped her breasts, feeling the sensation across her nipples. They weren't big, but they were perky and sensitive, and her stomach was nice and flat, with some tone from sports. She was generally quiet and into art, but she had a real competitive streak when it came to sports. Her father had pushed her when she was younger. He'd had two older sons, both now out of the house, and he was pretty much used to raising them, so when it came to athletics he didn't treat her any differently. She shaved because... well because she had tried it once and it made her feel sexy.

As she washed there she imagined Mr. Flowers again. She imagined him asking for the cigarette and then pushing her up against the wall and kissing her, hard on the lips.

She let out a soft moan as she thought about it, washing herself thoroughly. She imagined him taking off her shirt, and kissing down her neck, cupping her breasts and lightly brushing those lips across her nipples. And then, sucking one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the bud of her nipple. And then his hand snaking down and brushing the top of her pants, his fingertips sliding across the skin there reaching for... she shuddered as she came, surprising herself. She'd never come in the shower, and especially not that fast. God.

Her knees felt weak, and she rinsed and used the wall to brace herself as she stepped out of the shower to towel off. She was still thinking about the fantasy, it had felt so real, when there was a knock on the bathroom door.

"Amy, dinner in five. Don't make us wait, it's your Mom's lasagna and I literally cannot wait to eat this," her father said through the door. Amy's mom made an amazing lasagna.

"Ok Dad, just drying off."

"Well hurry the heck up girl, it's been like a month since she made this. I'm shaking I'm so hungry for it."

She listened to his footsteps pad away and she understood exactly how he felt.

She had a nice dinner with the family, they talked about their days, Amy skipping all the bits about Mr. Flowers, and her parents pushed her to make a decision about college. They wanted her to go to a pretty good school an hour away, and study maybe psychology. Become a therapist maybe. They talked about how good she was with other people's feelings. How she'd make such a good therapist. She could really help people.

Amy was tired of telling them she thought that dealing with that many people who were that messed up would mess her up, but they mostly didn't listen. They loved her, but man they could be so one note.

After dinner she tried to draw some, but found she couldn't concentrate, so she watched a movie and then got ready for bed.

She got under the covers and couldn't sleep. She closed her eyes and couldn't stop reliving the day. Dissecting it. It still gave her a thrill each time to think about the kiss and the cigarettes. She'd imagined and thought about it so much at this point that it almost seemed more real than what had actually happened. She imagined what his dick might feel like in her hand and it made her shudder, even under the warm covers. Her hand moved under the elastic of her panties and she started teasing herself. She had to stop though, if she kept doing this she'd be up all night. Goddamn it. She got up. She had to change panties. She'd soaked through these ones.

Finally she fell asleep and dreamt of cigarette veils and flesh.

The next day crawled by and class with Mr. Flowers was unremarkable. His pants didn't show off anything today, and they didn't have any real moments. Lizzie wouldn't stop talking about her party, and when Mr. Flowers, at the end of class, asked if anyone had any weekend excitement she stole the spotlight and put in a spot for her party, talking about the pool as she stared Mr. Flowers in the eyes.

Amy felt jealousy burn through her. This was so classic Lizzie. She hadn't invited most of the people in the class, yet here she was talking about her cool party. She just had no idea of where she was or what she was doing. What she was saying. Lizzie just thought about Lizzie. Mr. Flowers politely told her to have a good time and be safe, and then wished everyone a good weekend.

Amy managed to make it through Racquet Sports without much trouble, although Coach Jordan was still a bit of a slave driver, but class finished and Amy rushed out to the back, but not before primping herself some. She had a summer dress on, one she thought showed her curves, but not so much that he'd think she was just some stupid kid. Ok, so he didn't think she was like Lizzie. Amy loved Lizzie, she was really a good friend when she needed to be, but the other 90% of the time she could be a total pain in the ass.

Amy put a little lipstick on even, and then snuck out to the dumpster. She lit the cigarette, but didn't smoke it much, hoping to share as much as possible of it with Mr. Flowers when he showed.

The excitement built and she thought about him grabbing her around the waist and then kissing her, hard. And she thought about slowly, slowly unzipping his fly, staring straight into her eyes with those deep, dark eyes of his as he undid his belt and reached into his pants. She imagined him slowly, slowly pulling it out... and touching a finger to her lip, pulling the lower one down slightly, not pulling, but pulling her down toward... god damn it, where was he?

Her pussy tingled with excitement. God she wanted him. What she wouldn't do to have him come out here and just pull up her dress and fuck her. God, her mouth was literally watering.

She looked at her watch. It had been 10 minutes. Her cigarette had died.

She relit and smoked some. Twenty minutes later she figured he wasn't coming. She destroyed the last half of the cigarette and ground the butt into the concrete.

She felt foolish. She felt young. She felt... god, she felt horny and mad if she was going to be honest with herself. Fuck. She had wanted him to come out so badly. God damn it.

She sprayed herself with some perfume to mask the scent and then went back inside, mad now. Upset like she'd just been stood up. She was acting silly right? This wasn't a date. It was a sneaky smoke break behind the school. And it was her sexy teacher, not some boy her age. There was no way Hank Flowers wanted to go on a date with her. She walked in and saw Coach Jordan talking to Mr. Flowers in the gym hallway, and they were talking close.

Coach Jordan was leaning in, and tossed her ponytail back and laughed at something Mr. Flowers had said. He looked bemused by her reaction, and Amy noted how Coach looked much happier, gigglier. They were flirting. That bitch.

Amy stormed in, and walked quickly past them.

"Amy," Coach Jordan said, disentangling herself from the intimate posture she was in, "Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Took a walk."

"Howdy Ame," Mr. Flowers said with that goddamn smile. She immediately forgot she was mad. Or why she would be mad. It was one of those smiles that made her feel like she was the only one in the room. Or hallway.

"Get to class, Miss," Coach Jordan said sternly.

"I'll walk her up," Mr. Flowers said, Amy felt that tingle flush through her body again. She thought about him dragging her into a locker room and ravaging her in the shower. Pulling her panties down and shoving his face into her crotch...

Coach Jordan looked disappointed, but Mr. Flowers was already walking away.

"I'll see you later Nancy," he said back to Coach Jordan. They walked a bit down the hallway, and he nudged Amy and said, "How was the smoke break? Sorry I got caught up."

"Good," she lied. She wanted to say, 'It would have been better if you were there.'

Mr. Flowers nodded, sagely.

"I think she likes you," Amy said, and then immediately regretted it. Don't put ideas into his head! You like him. Remind him of that!

"You think?" he said, sounding genuinely curious, "Not sure if she's exactly my type though."

This was great. Coach wasn't his type. Maybe she was his type. And the fact that he was talking like this, did that mean he was single? All of this was good. She had gone from such a low and was now up so far. Her moods were fluctuating so much these days it was going to drive her crazy.

"So are you going to this party tonight?" he asked, making conversation. Should she invite him? Would that be weird? Of course it would be, she couldn't do that. But the thought of him in a bathing suit...

"Yeah," she said, "It should be fun. Lizzie can be a bit much, but she's a good person. And her house is super nice."

"I remember high school parties. Such a terrible time."

"Ha, what? No." Amy said, slapping his arm. Ugh, that was terrible, that wasn't like her. Why did she just do that?

"Seriously. Just wait until college. Wait until after. Once people work out their limits and figure out that drowning themselves in cheap booze isn't the most fun, well that's when you get into real parties. But hell, don't not enjoy yourself. Just be careful. Boys can be stupid. Especially around pretty girls."

Stop the fucking presses. Had he just called her pretty? Did Mr. Fucking Flowers think she was pretty? Her knees felt weak with the revelation.

"Alright kid," he said, putting his hand on her bicep briefly, "I'm this way. Don't get lost on the way to class. I'll see ya."

"Ok. Bye. Bye," she said, stuttering slightly, "Have a good weekend. What are you, any plans?"

But he was already off down the hallway. Shit. Holy shit.

Class flew by.

Lizzie cornered her after school.

"My house at 9? Party starts at 10 remember. And remember the boys my family friend is bringing? I hear a couple of them are super hot. So get your sexy butt to my house A-sap, ok?"

Amy promised Lizzie she'd be there, and then she was home. Her folks weren't yet home from work, so she went into the fridge and found a Popsicle; she figured it might cool her head. She unwrapped it and walked around the empty house. She went into her room, and stood in front of the full-length mirror. She took her shirt off, and then her bra, holding the Popsicle in her mouth. Then she shimmied her pants off and looked at herself. She was pretty. She looked good. Her big eyes stared her body down. She liked the spattering of freckles across her nose and her chest. She touched at her soft, rose-colored nipples, and then she touched the Popsicle to one and it immediately shriveled up into a perfect hard little nub.

She felt down her body as she put the Popsicle back in her mouth. What would it be like to have Hank in her mouth she thought? She swirled her tongue over the tip of the Popsicle, imagining it was the head of Hank's big dick. She watched herself lick up the side of the thing, a few droplets of blue from the treat falling down her face, and she thought about how it would feel to hold Hank in her hand and feel his come on her face. God she was so... god.

She bit the Popsicle in her frustration at it all being only a fantasy, and the cold of it in her mouth gave her brain freeze. She threw the rest of the thing away and lay on the bed, trying not to think as she closed her eyes.

When she opened them again it was dark. Startled she looked around the room, disoriented. What time was it? What day was it? Had today just been a dream? Was she late for school? She finally focused on the clock and it said 8:14. Shit, the party. She had to get ready.

She hopped out of bed and hurried into the bathroom. She showered in what felt like record time, dried her hair, styled it some, put on makeup, rued the fact that women's routines were so fucking complicated, finally put on a cute dress over a swim suit, and was out the door. The car's clock read 9:08, and it was a ten-minute drive to Lizzie's. Lizzie would be a little pissed, but that was ok. She'd live.

When Amy pulled up to Lizzie's house, a beautiful old brick place with pillars and a garden, Lizzie stepped out onto the front porch and put her hands on her hips, giving Amy the disapproving mother look she liked to put on.

"What took you so long?" Lizzie asked after Amy and stepped from her car.

"I accidentally fell asleep."

"Well I've texted you like a hundred times," Lizzie said as she ushered Amy into the rather grand entrance room. Lizzie's dad was a software developer and invented some chip that was in basically every computer ever now, so they were loaded. And their liquor cabinets were always fully stocked. It was basically the perfect party house, especially when you factored in the pool and hot tub out back.

Lizzie was clearly already ready; she looked flawless in a green dress worn over her bathing suit. It hugged her curves and showed off a generous amount of cleavage.

"I thought you were gonna let the boys beat you here," Lizzie said.

"I'm not that late."

"Well we have a half hour, so let's make it count."

They mixed a couple drinks, vodka and sprite, Lizzie's favorite drink, which Amy happened to think tasted horrible, but Lizzie's house, Lizzie's rules. She'd mix something better for herself later.

At 10 they'd gotten everything ready out by the pool, snacks were laid out, mostly chips and dip, and some token alcohols and mixers were arranged by some plastic cups, and they sat down and waited for the guests to arrive.

The first people to arrive were Lizzie and Amy's friends Reed and Cass, two girls who they hung out with on weekends. Cass was a bubbly little red head, and Reed was a taller, sassier brunette. They were both popular girls, although they weren't really all that interesting to talk to if you weren't talking about sports or guys or television. Amy wasn't all that interested in television, so they didn't talk all that often. But she liked them. They were good people even if they were a little boring.

"Ladies!" Lizzie screamed and they all hugged, "Are you ready for a crazy night?"

"I have been waiting for this fucking party all week," Cass said.

"Tell me about it. When are the boys getting here?" Reed said, and they stepped inside and got themselves a drink.

An hour later the party was in full swing. It wasn't a rager, Lizzie's parties weren't like that. She was selective, and her party was well curated. The guests were overwhelmingly pretty to the point where it made Amy feel uncomfortable. So she drank a lot. She switched quickly to gin, her preferred spirit, and made herself a big glass of gin and tonic. And soon she was drunk and laughing and talking and bullshitting with the rest of them. It didn't take too long for dresses and shirts to come off and for everyone to pile into the pool. The boys, Lizzie's childhood friend's friends, were pretty hot. They all were athletes, and their bodies showed it.

Someone suggested a game of Marco Polo, and that got everyone moving around, grabbing and flailing through the warm water. A boy named Mark, who she'd talked to some, mostly about how high school sucked, which was an easy topic to fall in to these days, stayed pretty close to Amy, making eye contact and grinning at her. Mark had seemed somewhat intelligent and definitely cute. He had straight brown hair and a crooked smile that reminded Amy a little of Mr. Flowers' smile, which made her like Mark even more.

So when in the throes of Marco Polo when he was yelling Marco, she might have accidentally let him catch her. His hands flailed through the water as he called out, "Marco."

"Polo," she yelled back gaily, and he turned toward her, smiling, water dripping off his body, and he lunged toward her. She giggled as he grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her stomach and picking her up. She felt his skin against her skin, the tightness of his muscles, and as he let go his hand accidentally groped her chest. She felt a shiver of electricity move through her body before she closed her eyes and yelled out, "Marco!"

The game led to a few more gropes, and Amy too let her hands drift across some flesh.

After a while they started to get tired, and so they got out. At this point there weren't many people left, it was just Lizzie, Amy, Cass and Reed, and four boys. One was Lizzie's family friend Joey, one was Mark, and there were two others whose names she'd forgotten. She tended to be awful at remembering names of people when she first met them.

Lizzie suggested they all go warm up in the huge hot tub, and she brought a big bottle of vodka and a 2-liter of Sprite as well. Everyone hopped in, the boys basically on one side, and the girls on the other, although the tub was circular so Amy was seated next to Mark, and Reed, on the other side, had Joey on one side and another one of the boys on her other.

Both of the boys, Amy noted, kept peeking down at Reed's breasts, which were huge. Reed was a little thicker around the middle than any of the other girls, but it was just to accommodate her incredible curves. Amy couldn't help but watch a few times as they had played Marco Polo, the way Reed's breasts just heaved and bounced but were still relatively perky when still, which seemed incredible considering their size.

"Ok," Lizzie said, "Hot tub rules: everyone needs to take a shot."

She lined up nine shot glasses and sloppily poured vodka into all of them, then she passed them all out, everyone cheersed, and then took the shot. Fuck. Nasty.

They all chatted drunkenly and flirted for a little while, and then Lizzie suggested they play a game.

"Never Have I Ever," she said as she grinned around the tub, "Rules are simple. You get five fingers. Each person has to say 'never have I ever' and then say one thing they've never done, and if you've done it you have to put one finger down. The first person to lose all their fingers loses. Everyone get it?

They did. Amy felt a thrill run through her. She secretly loved these sort of games.

"Ok, I'll start," Lizzie said, "Never have I ever... had sex in my parents room."

One of the boys put his finger down and grinned, looking around to see if the others had noticed what he'd done.

"Ok, Amy, you're up," Lizzie said. Damn, ok, this was always the hard part. What did you say right away? Nothing too crazy, but she didn't want to be seen as boring. She thought of Mr. Flowers.

"Never have I ever done stuff at school," Amy said. Lizzie and Cass and Joey all put a finger down.