Liyla's Spiral from Grace Ch. 03

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She explores all aspects of sex.
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Part 3 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 07/19/2006
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SKIP SECTION ONE

Overview: Well, each chapter is dedicated to a different type of eroticism. The only ones I won't be covering are: Pedophilia, bondage, and (possibly) rape. And maybe sex toys. The story is sparse, but it has a more meaningful effect on the sex scenes. EACH CHAPTER HAS A BRIEF SUMMARY OF ITS SEXUAL CONTENT and helpful tips on how to avoid the storyline and SKIP STRAIGHT TO THE SEX. The story isn't looking for patrons. If a reader can take only one chapter at random and enjoy the read, then the story is successful. Can't ask for much more. The story's chapters are kept to a minimum. Nothing over 3,000 words, preferably 2,500 words. Leave some constructive abuse or gushing praise, and support the continuance of my improvement in writing erotic stories. Don't worry about missing anything. Every chapter has a re-cap of highlights from previous chapters!

I hope you enjoy the read.

Sincerely awesome,

The_Moon_Gardens

END SECTION ONE

*

ChapterThreeA New Song

Summary: Foreshadowing of some very pivotal characters and Liyla. [Romance, Voyeurism, Bathroom Sex, Teacher/Student.] The middle section contains the romance. The last section has a sex scene, so skip down to that section if you want some action. The rest is story-plot and character set-up. Please enjoy!

Liyla came to school dazed and glossed over. It wasn't a priority of hers to be particularly outgoing-- but today was especially for her thoughts alone. Anyone that intruded gave her slight irritations. She was harmless though. Her version of showing her irritation was through mild reproaching smiles.

In the afternoon, she sat down to lunch with her friends. She was exhausted, as if she had been through a tumultuous fight with a lover. Everyone at her table knew this wasn't the case.

Shawna was the first one to address Liyla's off-beat behavior. "Hey, Liyla, are you okay? You look like hell."

Liyla smiled a regretful, faraway smile.

Shawna looked from Christie to Rick, then shrugged.

Christie took a crack at it. "Hey, Liyla, you know that creepy hot guy in Track B that targets underclassmen? He doesn't do that, anymore. Maybe we'll get a shot at him!" She laughed a fat, hearty laugh.

"Whoa? He's actually going for girls hisown age, now?" Shawna's raccoon eyes widened.

"Yeah." Christie laughed some more. "Who would've thought. I mean, he's creepy. I tried to say Hi to him once at the bus stop, but he didn't talk to me. He's reallyhotthough." she giggled with delight. Christie rarely ever said things that made sense or reflected her current state of mind, but she was always a hearty conversationalist.

Liyla usually had something mildly stern to say about engaging in dangerous affairs, especially with the strange, unpredictable people at their school, but she continued to eat her salad quietly.

Rick smiled. He thoughtfully watched Shawna and Christie across the table slap each other playfully and whisper. He then turned to look at Liyla. She didn't make eye contact with anyone. He leaned in with a small voice: "Don't worry, Liyla. I'm sure whatever you're thinking about'll be okay. Things always get better in perspective, right? And don't worry about the test--- it got cancelled." His reassuring tone brought her to look at him. "Hey, do you want my brownie?"

She shook her head. Admittedly, Liyla had forgotten there was supposed to be a test today.

* * * * * *

Liyla agreed to float off with Rick down some corridors. He was heading to the auditorium to practice for his recital, which was to happen three weeks from today. After his recital, he was going to enter a talent show the campus held yearly, using the same material. She felt at ease with him. Even when her parents divorced, he was considerate and made no moves to try and patch things up. She wondered often how people like him could stay so upbeat. She wondered if he had problems of his own, especially with the way he played the piano today.

The song he played was a mournful, heavy song, like death in the Springtime, or the feeling of someone waiting in their room for something to pop out of the closet and hurt them. It was an odd sensation. It made Liyla's skin crawl, but in an empathetic way that sensually bound her to the music. Her eyes fluttered closed. The notes tripped over each other, and sounded off-key, but their discord was deliberate. It's how she felt. The music stopped suddenly. Liyla opened her eyes to see Rick staring at the ivories. "The music--- don't stop..."

He turned and smiled at her brightly, "Then I won't---"

"I-- I mean, it's really good. It's way different from anything I've ever heard you play," she fiddled around with her skirt. "I mean, I like it. It's cool."

Rick chuckled, then resumed playing, except he played a totally different song.

It was something from the East, hot as a desert, but passionate. Liyla's skin rippled with goose bumps.

"I've been trying to learn a new style; I composed this myself," he said, practically glowing. The delight he derived from playing instruments was evident in how playful he was with the keys, how well he treated the notes. Delicately, with nuance.

Liyla watched his fingers plunk hard on some notes and fly past others. It made her heart thump loud in her chest. It made her grab Rick's arm.

He noticed it, and fumbled over a few keys. He eventually regained composure, and closed his eyes to play the riveting finale. It burst forth in eccentric and sultry scales that ran up and down the length of the piano, spewing life, heat and intensity. Then, he stopped. The final notes reverberated. He was out of breath, and unable to look at her.

She continued to hold his arm, watching the keys as if they were still moving. The real truth was, she was embarrassed that she had held onto him so suddenly. She had never remotely touched him before, except to hug him at birthday parties, or to dance at a few dances. He had taught her how to waltz, even to contemporary songs. He was good at anything that had remotely to do with music.

His smile was that of sunshine and blissful ignorance, but something in the way he played today startled her. It drew her in. "Liyla, I thought of something really cool today, and it happened when I was driving home from work last night." Rick was about to start on another one of his 'Something-Good-About-the-World' speeches. He rarely ever talked about detrimental things, unless it was news of a tragic death that happened at school or close to home that people circulated, or about the state of the environment. He pursed his lips and moistened them. He was going to talk both him and Liyla out of their uncomfortable situation. He was going try and bring them both out of the moment without any harm or anxiety. It was his first instinct.

But Liyla, for once, didn't want it to be that way. She and Rick had gotten close to talking about intimate things, they had even glanced at each other with knowing looks, but Rick always had the decency to keep a respectable distance away from her.

She flung her arms around him, embracing joy and comfort itself. She tried to plant desperate kisses on his face, short of his lips. "Rick," He kept turning his head this way and that, until he managed to gently pry her loose, placing her hands at their sides. He tried a smile, but it quivered. The words he was to say never left his half-open mouth, and instead, he stood up and stiffly walked out of the auditorium. For once, he left things unresolved and tense.

Liyla was breathless with excitement.

* * * * * *

Liyla went to use the restroom. She had to splash water on her face. She felt like throwing up. She pushed the door open and stumbled in on that strange girl no one ever really talked to. People say she's twenty, and that she just flunked Senior year a few times. The girl was smoking while one of the male teachers Liyla recognized walking so proudly down the halls massaged underneath her skirt. They were standing by the sink and talking in low whispers.

Liyla tried to ignore them and went into one of the stalls. She watched as the male teacher--- old, not extremely old, but old enough--- began to rub the girl down harder. She continued to watch his hungry expression with disinterest, and even blew smoke in his face. This aroused him enough to grab her shoulders and slop her mouth full of his own clumsy kisses.

"Come on," she muttered. "Get it over with, old timer."

Liyla felt like laughing, and she didn't know why.

"G-get it over with?" he asked timidly.

The girl just looked at him, so he began kissing her chest, even with her blouse still on. Then, he hefted her onto the sink, pulled down her panties, and began lurching. Well, from Liyla's view, his butt looked like it was lurching. He was actually thrusting the girl like a wild dog. The girl eventually dropped her cig into the sink and wrapped her arms around his neck. She rested her chin on his shoulder with a concentrated, peaceful look on her face. Maybe she couldn't feel anything.

"Yeah, ohyeah,oh, baby, yeah," the faculty member said in a deep, trembling groan.

For an instant, the girl opened her eyes, and Liyla was afraid the girl could see her through the crack in the stall. But the girl was really staring at something far off. Then, she closed her eyes and started humping against him so hard, that he had to back up off the sink. He held the undersides of her knees and thrust upward, impaling her with each gasp and each moan. She panted lightly, bouncing up and down.

The faculty member was surprisingly strong for his height and stature.

The two swerved into one of the walls and the girl's back slammed against the hand dryer. It whirred and drowned out the sounds.

It was awkward, to say in the least.

Seeing a side-profile of the teacher was unattractive. His mouth was wide open, and his groans frightened her. It seemed as if he hadn't had sex in years.

"Do you like this?" he asked. The girl didn't respond, so he repeated himself again when the dryer had finished whirring. She still said nothing.

Eventually, he had to drop one of her legs, which she propped onto the sink. She started to grind her hips against his, which drove him nuts. At one point, he even stopped thrusting and froze. He let the sensation of a girl only a third his age fuck his brains out. The feeling washed over him, and it was apparent in his gaping smile, much like a satisfied "Ahhhhh".

The girl snatched at his shoulder blades with her pretty nails. Her eyes were wide open, her gyrating had become coarse. She wanted to make him come.

He picked up the pace again and resumed thrusting the hell out of her. This finally elicited louder responses from her. He grew longer, stronger, his dick jerked and throbbed inside of her upon feeling how hot and wet she was becoming. Even her fleshy, lumpy contractions couldn't hold his dick from plowing into her. They were both crying out.

"God, oh my God," the girl whimpered.

The faculty member grunted, and grunted, and grunted until he froze and then began to tremble. His jism filled her.

It was not long before he re-knotted his tie that he smiled weakly, but professional and left. And now the girl was alone again, smoking a cigarette.

Liyla wondered if it was okay to come out of the stall. She didn't seem frightened-- the feeling was more like that of a guest wishing to leave a party early. She was more embarrassed on behalf of how rude It might have been to leave before the girl did. But she cautiously stepped out of the stall anyway. And she gazed solidly, without expression, at the girl. Honestly, she didn't know what to think.

The girl looked at Liyla, expecting Liyla to avert eye contact. But Liyla stared, so the girl grinned: "I know, who the fuck smokes in thebathroom, huh?"

Liyla laughed nervously.

The girl pushed off from the far wall and walked toward her. She rudely blew smoke into Liyla's face. Upon seeing Liyla's fascinated reaction, the girl grinned even wider.

"Hi," Liyla said. She still felt tired, but the girl's presence seemed to comfort her.

"Heya. I've seen you before. I really like your other pair of shoes. The aquamarine ones." the girl blew smoke out the side of her mouth to avoid hitting Liyla in the face again.

"Thanks." Liyla was surprised. She didn't expect anyone to remember hershoesof all things. "They're really cheap, actually... I like bargain shopping. It's one of my hobbies--- I mean, I don't like shopping in general, but a good pair of shoes makes a bad pair of jeans look really nice..." Liyla felt a little uncomfortable having a conversation about shoes with a girl smoking in the bathroom, especially right after what just happened. But these things couldn't be helped. She figured she would try a crack at speaking her mind, since the past few days have been a little strange: "I saw my mom having an affair with the newspaper subscription salesman who always comes to our house. And I noticed that my brother isvery attractive. I mean,reallyattractive." The smoking girl was grinning from ear to ear at this point. "And today, I tried to let someone know that I liked him, and he got nervous and ran away. Can I try to smoke that?"

The girl laughed. "Okay." She had a really charming, heart-felt laugh. Smoking Girl got out another cancer stick and lit it: "You don't want to catch any diseases from me." She was referring to rumors about her being a town bike.

"Oh, it'll be fine, I think," Liyla plucked the one out of the girl's mouth and took a puff on it, holding it how someone would a joint. "Goodness---" She coughed and hacked, handing it back to the girl. Her eyes were watery.

The girl now had two cigarettes in her mouth. She chuckled. "I like you. Hey, I have a class to ditch, and I want to do it punctually. Gotta meet up with someone. It was nice hangin' with you in the fucking bathroom," she laughed some more, tossing the shorter cigarette to the ground and smothering it with her fashionable loafer. "You're real cool, Shoe Bargain. I like you a lot." She gun-and-winked, slinking out of the door as it swung open and closed.

Liyla smiled brightly in the mirror, which had obscenities, numbers, and rumors scratched into it, or written with permanent marker. Maybe she would ditch class one day and go shoe shopping.

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