The Lesson Plan Part Two Supply Teacher Episode Three
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The Lesson Plan -- Part Two: Supply Teacher (Episode Two) free porn video
The Lesson Plan -- Part Two: Supply Teacher
Author's Foreword: This is a unauthorized "part two" to Tiffani Andrews'
excellent The Lesson Plan Part One: Endless Summer
(http://fictionmania.tv/stories/readtextstory.html?storyID
=1431653814505060881). The characters, the setting and the setup were so
wonderful, I felt inspired to continue in my own way. Thanks to Tiffani
for setting the scene so well. I hope you don't mind.
Tuesday: Remedial French
Chapter 6
I check my teeth in the rear view mirror for lipstick stains before
gracefully exiting the car; swinging my legs out, knees together, and
standing confidently on four inch nude heels.
Showtime.
Maybe not opening night, but definitely a press preview showing, I
think, clicking the button on the car keys to lock the car as I walk
over the gravel in the car park, only stumbling once.
Every new outfit had its challenges, even one as simple as this. The
brown leather pencil skirt I wore was fashionable, professional, and
comfortable, but also tight and knee length, meaning I had to slightly
shorten my stride in it. I had paired it with a large belt to emphasise
my waist, and a simple cream pussy bow blouse. My hair I had simply
styled with a loose bouncing curl, and I wore a plain silver chain and
earrings. In my closet at home it had screamed "professional teacher."
As I approach the lion's den of the school I wonder if maybe it wasn't
too tight, too revealing. All my aunt's clothes were like this though.
And this was because my aunt was like this: Well dressed, confident,
stylish. Feminine.
I push the large sunglasses back onto my head as I approach the doors of
the high school and tried them, but they didn't budge. None of the doors
were open.
"Well shit," I say, Kevin's voice growling sotto voce.
I was rooting in my handbag for my mobile phone when I heard the voice
from behind me.
"Can I help you young lady?"
I take a deep breath, raise my cheekbones and turn.
"I'm supposed to be starting today?" I say, my Ellen voice wavering a
little. Should have practiced in the car. The man in front of me is
tall, dressed in a grey suit with a white shirt and pink tie. Clean
shaven, his hair cut is if anything a little young on his face -- I'd
guess he's about my age. A satchel is slung over his shoulder, keys in
hand.
"Hi Ellen," he smiles at me, his face lighting up. He's the first man
that has looked at me in the eyes, the first man that hasn't obviously
mentally undressed me, and two things are clear to me right away: One,
this is Wayne Chalmers -- principal of the school, and two that he and
Ellen have history. "We go in the door round the side on staff days,
come on."
He walks off without waiting for me, and I do a little canter to get in
step with him in these heels. I feel the bubbling thrill of successfully
impersonating Ellen with someone who knows her rising up inside me
again.
"How was your summer?" I ask conversationally as we walk around the side
of the building.
"Better than yours by the sound of it. I'm really sorry about your
friend Ellen. I really am." He stops abruptly, reaching out to take my
hand in his. "I'm happy you're here, though. Really happy." He squeezes
my hand with his and looks at me like he wants to say something else.
It's all I can do but to stand there and smile -- I have no idea what's
happening.
It's OK to get a little lost.
Mrs. Scheider was fond of saying that, and it had meant a lot when I
clean forgot half a page of dialogue in The Glass Menagerie. She had
meant in terms of the power of theatre to be different every time. I
doubt she had meant when you were improvising two characters motivations
furiously whilst pretending to be a forty-two year old woman.
"I'm happy I'm here too," I reply softly, nodding and not breaking eye
contact. Any doubts I had about the meaning of his words were gone in
the next second as he took a step towards me and kissed me, full on the
mouth, wrapping his arms around my middle as if we'd been doing it all
our lives. I was so surprised I went along with it, parting my lips
slightly, tilting my head -- I wanted to be a good little actress.
Moments later he pulled away, slowly at first, then quicker, taking a
step back and looking around.
"I shouldn't have..." he starts to say, but I know my part: I lifted a
finger and pressed it against his lips.
"Shh, it's OK," I say, and watch him smile.
"Anyway," he continues, suddenly looking anywhere but at me. "Come on
and meet everyone else."
Chapter 7
I had kissed a man. A man had kissed me.
It was, I had reasoned, only a matter of time. Ellen was attractive, she
was single, she was dating. I just hadn't quite expected to have to do
any of those things. It was to be enough to look like her, act like her,
and do her job for a little while. I now wondered how into this role I
was going to have to get.
I walked into the staff room after Wayne, and met the other teachers --
a good mix of young and old, women and men. I shook hands and smiled and
introduced myself as Ellen the English teacher and all the while I was
thinking that I had kissed a man, and that a man had kissed me.
There was young Sally -- only two years out of college (so older than
me) -- who also taught English ("love your skirt!"); Joan, an older lady
who taught history; Paul, a moustached German teacher who introduced
himself to my boobs; Kate, the athletic sports teacher, and many more.
Over 30 people in all, including Miranda who I hugged and sat next to at
orientation.
While people chatted and caught up I fished out my mobile phone and
texted Ellen.
"Chalmers kissed me!"
The kiss had thrown me, for sure, but as I sat in the plastic seat
listening to the staff after-holiday welcome from an unflustered
Chalmers himself, I realised what I had done. I had introduced myself to
and made small talk with a group of adults, all of whom had taken me as
who I said I was. The excited buzz of disguise filled me, from the tummy
to my toes. If Mrs. Scheider could see me now, I thought, looking down
past the increasingly familiar swell of my bosom to my knees and thighs
pressed together in my leather skirt.
The morning went by amazingly quickly, with Wayne talking mostly about
the coming school term, the budget challenges, the lower intake and
other concerns. Only after an hour did he introduce me and one other new
teacher, making us stand up and wave at everyone. I beamed at everyone,
doing a little curtsy which got a small ripple of a giggle from the
assembled staff. I looked over at Wayne who met my gaze, and flashed me
a proud smile.
After introductions, I was taken to my classroom by Sally, who was also
technically my boss as head of department. She was nervous, fast talking
and bobbed her head while she spoke, reminding me of a bunny rabbit. As
we walked the empty corridors she told me that she had read and loved my
lesson plan. Obviously I liked her instantly, and had invited her to the
house for dinner and drinks before we even reached my classroom. It felt
like the Aunt Ellen thing to do.
"Okay, here you are!" Sally said, unlocking the door dramatically and
presenting me with my own key. I stepped inside, one, two three steps
and looked around, taking a deep breath. It was a classroom. Desks laid
out in 4 rows of 6, with a larger desk at the top facing them. There
were two empty whiteboards, and a whole lot of bare walls. Tomorrow, it
would be full of children.
"Oh you give me hope," Sally said from the door, looking at me with an
odd expression. "I was exactly like that when I first walked into my
first classroom. I love that you still look like that after all your
experience." She was beaming at me.
All my experience. Shit.
"I'll let you get settled in," she added, turning and leaving me alone.
Alone in my classroom. My classroom.
Suddenly all this felt really really stupid. I was a man in a skirt,
pretending to be an older woman I had no right to. I didn't know what I
was doing and I was spending so much time worrying about being a woman
I'd forgotten about being a teacher too.
I sat down at my desk, my head in my hands and sighed.
"That bad already? Wait till the kids get here."
I look up at the door to see Wayne leaning in the doorframe, a smile
playing on his lips.
"I was just," I say, straightening up to my Ellen posture and tossing my
hair, "remembering what all this was like."
"Liar, you're regretting it already," he replies, walking confidently
into my classroom and closing the door behind him. "Ellen, I can't tell
you how great it is to have you back. How great it is to see you again."
Inside my handbag, my mobile phone buzzed. I fish inside and quickly
check the screen, hoping for an answer to how to play this. Instead, an
email flashes up on screen, confirming my appointment at the beauty
salon at 5pm.
"It's great to see you again too Wayne," I lie, dropping the phone back
in my bag and smiling up at him. "And I am, honestly, looking forward to
teaching again. Scouts honor," I raise three fingers in mock salute and
push the chair back, standing up. Even with my heels, Wayne still stood
over me. And he was close. Uncomfortably close.
"God, you are so beautiful," he whispers, staring deep into my eyes, his
hand coming up to brush my cheek. "You look just the same. It's like
you've gotten younger almost."
"You too," I reply with a small smile.
Enjoy the collaboration.
Good roles are made great with other actors, exploring things together.
As we stood, our faces inches away from each other, I realised that my
fear of the classroom had evaporated, and was replaced by the excitement
again. I wasn't nervous of being discovered. I was thrilled in the role.
I could conquer my fear of teaching my retreating further into Ellen.
"Liar," he repeats, his fingers on my chin, gently pulling me towards
him. I was prepared this time: parting my lips and kissing his bottom
lip, grabbing his shoulders, and raising my left leg a fraction. A
carbon copy of Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca, I think as my hands move
down his arms. Good job.
I feel his other hand on the small of my back, sliding down over my
leather skirt and squeezing my fake ass, slightly spoiling the classic
movie moment, in my opinion.
"I thought you didn't want this," he asks, his voice a breathy whisper
as our lips part. "Not that I'm complaining."
Uh oh.
"I'm not sure I do," I reply, thinking quickly, snaking a hand behind my
back and sliding his hand -- still lingering on my behind -- back up to
my waist. However, Wayne didn't let me go, still holding me tightly
against him.
"I don't know, it might be fun, sneaking around and stealing kisses in
the supply closet. Just like old times," Wayne gives me a peck on the
lips and releases me. "It's very nice to have you joining our staff Miss
Bennet," he says formally, and with a swaggering backward step.
It was only after he left I realised my heart was pounding in my chest.
Chapter 8
My car pulls up outside Fancy Nancy's salon at five to five. I hadn't
made this appointment, but I figure that either Vicki or the real Ellen
had for my benefit. In truth, I was a little worried about the mask and
the other appliances. I didn't know how long I could wear them for, but
I was pretty sure that the longer I did wear them the more likely
something was to go wrong. I swung my legs out from the driver's seat,
stood up, smoothed down and rearranged my skirt and went back to the
scene of the crime.
"Hi Ellen!" Shayna is here to greet me, dressed in the regulation white
smock and fitted pants, her long blonde hair pulled back and up into a
bun, all the better to show off her heart-shaped face. She rounds the
small reception desk and gives me a hug, which I happily reciprocate.
"Well don't you look fancy," she gushes with a beaming smile, and I feel
my heart skip a beat. "What have you been doing today?"
"Staff inservice day at school. My first day," I explain with an
apologetic shrug, still using Ellen's voice, I guess to show off. I was
expecting a compliment about how well I was doing, or how good I looked
as Ellen. Neither came.
"Oh wow, that's amazing. Now, I have you down for a waxing today and a
massage? Is that right? Vicki's had to step out for a moment, but I can
do your waxing." She smiles at me, not waiting for an answer before
locking the salon door and turning over the "back in 15 minutes" sign.
Shayna leads me into one of the treatment rooms, where a massage table
dominates next to a trolley of various beauty products, a simple chair
and a japanese style screen. "So how was it?" she asks, turning to look
at me while she heats the wax. She stops, her face tilting. "Legs and
bikini as usual?" she asks, and I realise it was because I was just
standing there instead of getting undressed.
I'm not sure what to do, so I play along, shaking my head and saying
"yes that's right, sorry!" and reaching behind me to unzip my skirt,
working it down over my rounded rear and revealing the dark nylon
control top to my nude panty hose. I step out of the skirt, fold it
neatly on the back of the chair and remove my heels as I sit down. That
seemed to please Shayna, who smiled back and carried on as though
nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
She must know, I think as I work the pantyhose down my legs.
"Perfect, up you come," Shayna says as I lay the gossamer hose on the
chair, facing away from her, my white nylon panties very much on
display, stretched tight over my ass. "God Ellen, I wish I had your
legs," Shayna compliments as I turn around, and I find myself saying
"Are you kidding, Shayna, everything about you is beautiful."
I blush the moment I said it, because I had meant it. I was sure, right
then, I had given myself away -- that I was a half naked Kevin in drag
in front of her, a blushing silly boy in front of this beautiful woman.
But of course, the mask hid my blushes.
"Aw Ellen, that's such a sweet thing to say," she say, her face coloring
with a blush of her own. "That's so nice of you!" She lifts the small
towel off the table ready for me to lie down, and drapes it over my
thighs without looking. "So how's Kevin doing?" she asks.
Holy shit. Holy shit.
Just as I'm working up the courage to tell her who I am she puts her
hand on my leg, massaging some oil from my ankle up, up up my legs to my
knees, mercifully just below where the prosthetic hip and thigh pads
start. Her touch feels amazing, and I'm sure she can hear me exhale as
her fingers stroke me.
"Cold?" she asks absently, still stroking me. "Your legs aren't too bad
at all you know, though there's a teeny tiny bit of hair. Strange," she
continues, looking at my bare legs and painted toes. "I'd swear these
were done like last week."
I can't speak. I'm frozen. I have no idea what to say to get out of this
because I like this girl. I think she's lovely, and attractive and
despite looking like a forty-two year old woman I can't get past that
and I don't want to say something stupid. Her touching me though is
having something of an effect and I squeeze my thighs together to try
and stop things going any further. This doesn't help.
"Well, do you want me to do your bikini then?" she asks, very
professionally sliding the towel further up my body onto my stomach,
showing my panties.
I take a deep breath and start to say something when I hear the front
door slam and Vicki call out "Shayna?"
She stops and looks up, slightly irritated. "I'll see what she wants. Do
you want to just take off your panties and I'll be right back?"
As she closes the door I exhaled a huge sigh of relief, swinging my legs
off the table and sitting up, my posture much more Kevin than Ellen. I
hear the muttered mumble of conversation in the hall, and the glorious
full throated laugh of Vicki booming down the hall, getting louder as
she approaches.
"Ellen!" she cries heartily as she enters, looking me up and down and
giving me a wink. "You look great," she says, peering at me closely.
"Take off your blouse for me," she commands, very business like. I start
to unbutton the blouse when Shayna, standing in the doorway, asks:
"what's going on?"
"Shayna can you keep a secret?" Vicki asks, watching me undoing one
button. Two. Three.
"Hell yeah. What's going on?"
I shrug off the blouse and lay it on the massage table, where I'd been
lying a few moments before. I stood before these two women in just my
aunt's white full cup bra and matching panties, resting my hand on a
jutting hip like I had in this very room only 4 days before.
"Say hello, Kevin," Vicki says with a smirk.
"Hello Kevin," I say, using my own voice out loud for the first time in
days.
Shayna claps her hands together and squeals before standing open
mouthed, eyes bright as she looks at me -- really looks at me -- from
head to toe. Her lips curve into a grin. "Do it again!"
"Hi Shayna," I say. "Sorry about the confusion."
"The confusion... well I... Oh my god.. " her forehead crinkles as she
replayed the last ten minutes in her mind. "Shit. Just as well you
didn't let me do your bikini line really," she giggles walking towards
me. "This is unbelievable Kevin, you look just like her," she adds,
circling around me. "I would never have... is this your doing Vicki?"
"Guilty," she holds up her hand. "Did you do your hair and makeup
yourself?" she asks me, while Shayna gets so close to my face I swear I
can feel the heat of her breath.
"Yeah," I say, my normal Kevin voice feeling strange on these lips.
"Yes," I repeat, reverting to Ellen's higher, perkier tones. It feels
better instantly, and the wide-eyed reaction from Shayna is worth it.
She's impressed. "I have since I was last here, but I still need some
practice."
"Woah that is amazing," Shayna shakes her head. "Wait, how long have you
been pretending to be Ellen? And why are you pretending to be Ellen,
more to the actual point?"
I tell her the tale so far -- Michelle, her mother, the kids, the ex
husband, Seattle -- while Vicki inspects the mask, the edges of the hip
and butt prosthetics, and finally my breasts -- for which I have to take
off my bra in front of these two women. Instinctively, I cover them with
my hand.
"Aw that's cute, but I need to see, sunshine," Vicki says, all business.
Shayna has spent most of the time listening to my story with an
expression of amused disbelief, but can't contain herself as I show her
my naked breasts. "Holy shit!" she exclaims, covering her mouth with her
hand, but not able to tear her gaze away. "They look so real!"
"Everything seems to be OK. No damage, and the skin glue is still
holding. I think we should redo everything once a week unless something
catastrophic happens," Vicki says, taking a step back. "Do you want to
do it now or wait until it's been a week?"
"What do you think?" I ask, trying to sound normal, despite being almost
naked.
"Let's leave it for now, but keep an eye on things. I want to see the
limits of these things. But if your face starts falling off, I'll give
you this." Vicki hands me a small tube of the skin glue and a large
bottle of solvent. "For emergencies. You seem to be good enough with the
makeup to cover anything else. Otherwise we'll see you on Friday."
"Why don't you girls come round for a drink. I'll cook," I offer,
smiling broadly, folding my arms under my chest.
Chapter 9
"Hey, Ellen, wait a second!"
Shayna, rushes out of the salon just as I was opening my car door. Fully
dressed again, we had said a brief goodbye as Vicki had commented on my
fashion sense before I had left. I looked down as she approached,
checking that I hadn't forgotten my handbag or what was left of my
dignity.
She surprises me by not saying anything, but by giving me a huge,
crushing hug, wrapping her arms around me and holding me for what seemed
like hours. Her warmth, her perfume, her body was so comforting I admit
I let out a happy sigh.
"You're incredible," she whispers. "What you're doing. It's so amazing."
She kissed me before we parted, a soft deliberate kiss on my lips that
was over before I had processed what was going on.
"Hey Ellen, if you want to go shopping on Thursday after work, I'd like
the company," she says, folding her arms and taking a step back. "Pick
me up here about six?" I watch as she turns on her heels and bounces
away, not waiting for an answer.
"See you then," I call after her, watching her go back inside the salon.
A date? Friends? I wasn't sure. I climb into my car, checking my face,
makeup, mirror as if by habit and pulling the seat belt over my
feminised frame. I'd been kissed three times today -- the impressions of
each lingered on my lips, and on my mind. Oh Ellen, I thought. Being you
is a whole new world.
Jeannie
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