"Pretending" to Make Out

I frowned. "What's the problem?"

He peered at me, incredulous. "Heidi, this is so inappropriate." He was wheeling his office chair underneath his desk, I noticed. "If I have to explain it to you, you won't get it."

"See, that's what I don't understand." I tried not to sound petulant; successfully, I thought. "What's to explain? You'll be helping me out with a prank, is all."

"But we'll be making out!"

"We'll be pretending to make out," I said slowly; God, had I not already told him this? "It won't mean a thing." I was beginning to think he might be gay. Why would he possibly have a problem making out with me? I shook my head. "Seriously, Senor, if I got all emotional about every guy I made out with..." I squinted, honestly not sure how to go on.

"What?" he asked mournfully. We paused, and then I cocked my head.

"Well, I don't know what," I muttered. This was unexpectedly difficult. I knew he was into me; I'd have thought he'd jump at the chance to help me out.

He sighed. "Look, Heidi," he began, low-voiced and grim, not at all his usual self, "you know I like you. Heck, I think you know I think you're... well, you're very attractive." He was looking up and down my body in the little dress. "But teachers just can't do anything like that with students. That's all there is to it."

"That's my point, Mr N. We're not doing 'anything like that.'" I used air quotes, feeling like a tool for doing so, but I had to get through to him. I got slowly to my feet. "Look, I'll prove it. I'll kiss you right now, and it'll be all dry and clinical and... well, boring. I promise." I walked around the desk toward his chair, smoothing my dress. "Just, like, a peck. I saw you kiss Dana Mathers last year, at graduation."

"On the cheek," he protested. "And the point was, she had graduated."

"Oh, come on. If you'd kiss a girl at graduation, you'd kiss her the day before." I shuffled closer, and he looked up at me fearfully. "Pucker up. I won't hurt you," I urged quietly, talking to him like I talked to the kids I babysat. "I promise, Mr N. We'll feel nada."

He wasn't rolling his chair back away from me, at least. My dress fit me well, meaning I wouldn't be slipping him any nipple shots, but he'd certainly get an eyeful of cleavage as I bent slowly down. "Just a little peck," I soothed, getting closer, and now I could smell him. I hoped my lips were dry.

Shit, it was the worst kiss I'd ever participated in. No question. On purpose, sure, but still. Nothing about it felt even remotely right; my odd position, standing, bent over the side of his chair; his eyes as big as golfballs, his whole body completely tense. I tried hard to keep it as clinical as I'd said I would, my lips on his for about three seconds, minimal pucker, zero tongue. He was petrified, unable to believe this was happening, and I pulled away with a manufactured smile and a lot of false enthusiasm.

"See?" I straightened quickly, so as not to give him any more free boob than he deserved; he hadn't earned it. "Easy-peasey-Japanesey."

He still looked shellshocked, but at least he was able to reply. With sort of a joke, even. "Like kissing my sister," he muttered.

"That's the spirit!" This was taking longer than I thought it would; I figured I should quit while I was ahead. "We're co-pranksters now. It'll be fun. So. Like, don't make plans for next Wednesday, Senor. That's when I want to do it, after school."

He still had his legs far under the desk, and I knew why. "Uh, sure?"

"It'll be epic," I promised him. Jesus. He was backsliding already. "After school, Mr N. Don't back out on me, either." I winked. "Your status as favorite teacher depends on it."

He smiled, finally, though it was clearly forced. "I'll try not to let the pressure get to me."

"You're funny." I waved, gathering my stuff untidily, retreating so that he'd be locked in. I was obscurely disappointed in him, or in myself; apparently, I hadn't made him as much my pet as I thought I had.

I'd need to use kid gloves next Wednesday, obviously.

* * *

"Ready?" I breezed into his classroom on Wednesday morning. "Need a pep talk?"

He was sitting behind his desk, lazy, looking like he was gearing up for a nap. I wouldn't be able to eat with him today; he had lunch duty. "Hello to you, too," he grumbled.

"Aw, come on," I burbled. "Better get your mood straight by the end of the day, Mr N, otherwise my prank falls apart." I shifted my pocketbook over my shoulder. "Happy April Fool's Day, by the way."

"Funny you should bring that up," he sighed. "You're sure I have to do this? Like, you're not just pranking me, are you?" he asked hopefully. I had just the answer for that.

"You don't have to do this," I breezed. "You get to do this. Think about how hilarious it'll be!" I was beaming. I really was looking forward to Beth freaking the fuck out. I'd take her out for coffee tonight to make it up to her, maybe even see if she wanted me to eat her out. She'd probably still be too pissed, though. I drew myself up. "What do you think of my outfit?" I purred.

He scanned carefully over my body for, oh, maybe the millionth time; looking at me had to be one of his favorite hobbies. So today I was giving him a show, a white button-down shirt with a deep purple bra mostly visible underneath it, knotted at my belly button, above a tempting strip of bare abs before my grey yoga pants took up the slack. Minimal makeup, for once. I looked hot. "You like?" I demanded, wondering whether I should twirl so that he could see my ass. He'd love that.

So I did.

I even wiggled a bit for him. "Think she'll be convinced? Like, is this the kind of thing you'd want to make out with?" I spun back around, grinning. "Hypothetically, I mean."

"Sure." He was trying hard to stay cool, but I could hear a little note in his voice. Tension? Lust? Anxiety? I glanced at his lap.

Ah. Lust.

Jesus. His self-control sucked. I'd have to give some thought to what would happen if he got hard this afternoon, during the prank. Shit, that'd be awkward! "Good," I went on briskly; had to put on a good, confident front for him. "So I told her to come get me at four. I was thinking I'd show up at ten til? Maybe rehearse a little? Beth is never early, and that should give us a few minutes to look like we've been at it for awhile."

He blinked, shifting in the chair. He fidgeted with his shirttail, moving it over his lap. Yup. I'd definitely need to plan for his edgy penis. I wondered whether I should recommend he just go into the faculty bathroom and rub one out, real quickly, but then I decided that would be rude. "That, uh, sounds fine. You're sure this is a good idea, Heidi? Because I'm pretty sure it's a horrible idea."

I pouted. Cutely, I hoped. "Mr Norlin," I said severely, "this is really something you should have brought up last week. Don't you think?" I put my hands on my hips, striving for maximum petulance. "I've gone to so much trouble!"

"Fine, fine." He put his hands up as though he was blocking a punch. "Whatever. It's totally inappropriate, but whatever. If it'll shut you up, I guess I'll see you at 3:50."

"You sure will," I huffed, but I left him with one of my best smiles and yet another ass-shake as I left. I'm not really sure why I bothered; the truth was, I didn't exactly need an Oscar-winning performance out of the guy this afternoon. I tried to picture it from Beth's perspective: she'd walk in and find us doing something undignified, obviously, but it wouldn't take much. I figured it would be enough to have, say, him sitting down with me in his lap with mildly disordered clothing, either smooching or near-smooching; if Beth saw that, it'd be plenty. I'd been planning on doing this down in the locker room, mostly so that nobody would interrupt us, but most people would be out of the whole building by four anyway.

This was going to be epic. There was a very real possibility that Beth wouldn't forgive me. But she's a nerd, and has very few friends, so I was betting she wouldn't want to lose me. I spent most of the day trying to endear myself to her. "Dude," I said as we separated after lunch, "did I tell you I'd be a little bit late? Can you wait around for me after school, or maybe come back and get me later?"

She shrugged. This was not really an unusual request from me. "Sure. What are you up to?"

Well, the prank required that I pretend like I was up to hooking up with my teacher. So, speaking as if I was a flustered liar, I spluttered out a response. "Oh! Umm, yeah. I, like, need extra math help? From Bacon?" I looked away, biting at my lower lip, and she rewarded me with an odd glance.

"Ohh.. kay..." Beth rolled her eyes. "What time will you be ready?"

"Four?" I shrugged, the water now chummed. "I appreciate it. I'll get you some coffee later."

"Ooh!" She smiled. "Sounds great. See you at four!"

"Love you!" We parted in the usual flurry of air-kisses and fluttery waves, and I flounced off toward last period with a devious little smirk and a spring in my step. I even said hello to little Jason Bennett when I saw him outside my history class; he just blushed and looked away. I didn't mind; he'd done a pretty good job on me, but it's not like I needed much more sex, anyway.

The clock nudged its way past two, then three, and then the bell went and I bounced out of my seat like I had a spring up my ass. The halls were their usual boisterous, shoving selves, and I killed a few minutes with various friends and enemies before, whistling, I headed into the bathroom for a piss and a deep swig of some of my sister's booze. It was plum brandy; one of her boyfriends had gotten her into it, and I'd discovered it was fucking delicious.

I kept it in a fake tube of lipstick.

My phone told me it was about 3:20, so I decided I'd just go ahead and swing on up to Mr Norlin's room. I'd be early; he wouldn't care. I was thinking I'd offer him a little of the brandy to loosen him up a little, but even if he refused I wasn't too worried.

I found him where he spent 90% of his time, in his rolling chair with his Docs up on the desk. He glanced at the clock once he noticed me leaning against the doorframe. "You're early."

"I'm bored," I snapped back, and with a big smile curving across my lips I winked across the room at him. "Mind if I come kill some time with you, Senor?"

He sighed. For a man about to get some action from a sexy eighteen-year-old, he looked pretty damn reluctant. But I had sort of pushed him into this, so it's not like I could blame him all that much. Besides, I was sure he'd warm up once I got started; he was, after all, just a man. I knew what to do with them. I kicked the door closed behind me, then turned to throw the latch. "What are you doing?" he called from his desk.

"What's it look like? I'm locking the door." He and I knew this was just a prank, but I could foresee... well, let's call it an unfortunate misunderstanding if anyone else burst in. Like, say, the assistant principal Mr Bourne. He'd get fired, maybe prosecuted; I'd get suspended, maybe expelled. So, yes, I locked the door. I turned to find Mr Norlin shaking his head at me with a pained expression on his face.

"You're not usually such an idiot, Heidi," he sighed. "How is Beth supposed to come in if the door's locked?" Fuck me. He was right. "The prank only works if the door's unlocked."

"Shit, you're right."

"Mouth."

"Sorry. I was just thinking, you know, if anyone walked in, they'd probably draw the wrong conclusion."

"No, the right conclusion," he reminded me quietly. "The conclusion we want Beth to draw," and I smiled. I'd underestimated him. He was sort of into this, after all. I felt myself relax automatically, felt a smile twitching at the corners of my mouth, for The Flirt was back on. I unlocked the latch, then leaned playfully back against the door and pushed my boobs into the room.

"Well, what do you suggest then, Senor?" I asked innocently. "We can hardly just hook up right out here in front of everybody." I began striding across the room, my sandals soft on the linoleum floor, already making strong eye contact. "Although, I have to say, I appreciate your concern for the success of my little prank."

"No problem." He smiled a little wanly, a little oddly even. "It should be an interesting way to end the day."

I pursed my lips, halfway across the room. "Exactly. And, you know, it won't be so bad, pretending to make out with me. I promise, I'll try to make sure it's kind of fun." He still had his feet up. Five more feet, and I'd be there.

He let his head loll sideways. "That's very kind of you."

"It's the least I can do." I was purring now, and I reached my arm out to rest my fingers on his ankle as soon as I could. I squeezed a bit. "You're very nice to help me with this." He didn't move, though his eyes went straight to my hand. "You really want to do this here, at your desk?"

He shrugged. "I mean, it's your prank," he said softly. I was already scanning the room. I'm not terribly squeamish; I've had sex twice with an audience, and both times it felt great. Then, too, Mr N had seen me with Jason and I'd slept just fine after that. So being seen with him didn't bother me. But expulsion did. He had a bookshelf in the corner next to the door, making a little semi-secluded area he used for lockdown drills.

"Tell you what." I was already pulling a chair to that corner. "We can set ourselves up behind the bookshelf. That way, we can avoid prying eyes and get a little bit of warning when Beth opens the door." I shrugged. "Then, we don't have to be, like, perpetually necking. We can just start in when we hear her." I grinned playfully. "Unless we want to, you know, just keep things boiling."

"Heidi, what are you doing?" I was making a horrible squealing noise, dragging the chair. "Jeez. Just roll my chair over there." He got up and started to do just that, but I shook my head.

"Nuh-uh. This one time, I was with a guy in a swivel chair. We just about killed ourselves."

"Well, I'm not using one of those student chairs," he announced, mulish. "I'm a high school graduate, which means I no longer need to plant my butt in those uncomfortable chairs." He was still rolling. "I'll lock down the casters and make it so it can't rock back," he offered.

I just blinked. "You can do that?" He looked at me like I was developmentally delayed. "What? I'm a fucking teenager. How many office chairs do you think I've ever used?"

"My point exactly. You start using them when you graduate." He rolled his eyes as effectively as he rolled the chair, and I set my bag down and followed him to the corner. He was stooping underneath it, fiddling with all the levers and knobs I'd never realized were there, and I leaned against the bookshelf while I waited. I'd already decided he wouldn't need any brandy. I rummaged around in my pocketbook as he got the chair as immobile as he could. "There." He smacked the back of the chair, which stayed pretty steady. I was impressed.

"Ooh! I knew there was a reason you were my favorite teacher," I mocked, smiling. I'd found what I was looking for. "Here." It was my tin of breath mints, which he took gratefully. "They're the curiously strong ones," I warned him. I wasn't sure why I was chatting. I didn't usually do that when I was preparing to mack on a guy. But, in fairness, I was usually horny by this point.

"Nifty." We chewed silently, and I glanced at the clock. "She's supposed to show up at four?"

"Yup." I was surprised, suddenly, to discover I had no idea how to start this. We were standing there, chewing, not looking at each other, and in fifteen minutes we were supposed to be wildly smooching. It was not a situation I'd been in before. "Um, so why don't we practice? You know, like, rehearse?" It was only 3:44.

He looked me over, flushing very slightly. "Okay," he said noncommittally. "The chair is for me? Where's yours?"

I gave him a withering stare. "We're supposed to be making out, Mr N." I wondered when was the last time he'd done that. "I'll be in your lap."

"Oh yeah." He seemed not to have considered the logistics, but he acted mellow enough as he took his seat. He spread his legs slightly and looked up at me in expectation. "Okay, madame director. Tell me how to act."

Well, shit. I wasn't sure myself. I glanced toward the door, my eyes sweeping over the clock again, and took a look at his face. He wasn't ugly, that was for sure, but he wasn't my usual type either. Still, I'd noticed in the past that once the kissing and grinding started, that kind of thing usually mattered less and less. I wondered whether that would happen this time, with my teacher. "Well, I guess we should just, like, start making out? We'll see if we need to change anything, make it more realistic." I took a breath and walked toward him.

"Oh. Okay." He swallowed and licked his lips. "I've got some chapstick in my pocket? If you need it?"

"Nope." I was knee-to-knee with him now, and still moving, bending, leaning in toward his face, and now I wasn't stopping for shit. Last week, I'd tried to make that first kiss sterile and awkward; today, I saw no point. It was just a kiss, anyway, and I saw his lips part slightly as I came in, his eyes wide, and my hands reached his shoulders at the same moment my lips touched his.

I'm not really a great kisser. I know myself, and my best work is done with lips located further down. But I'm usually a good enough kisser to produce an erection, which is most of the point of kissing as far as I'm concerned. What I wasn't ready for, though, was Mr Norlin being a better kisser than I was. I got his lower lip between my teeth first, gently, and was going to let things marinade like that for a few seconds before moving on to the lick phase, but Mr N had other plans. He had his tongue burrowing past my lips immediately, fluttering inside, and I heard a satisfied little moan from where our teeth were meeting.

I was the one who made the moan.

My knee was suddenly resting on the chair next to one of his thighs, and I didn't even remember putting it there; I was already too busy getting my tongue sucked on, giggling breathlessly into his mouth. This was nice, really nice. I bent down closer, my fingers flexing, all ten of them seeking dangerously around for something to do, something to stroke, something to grab. I was still moaning, which embarrassed me.

I was supposed to be pretending. But Jesus, that sex drive of mine, always primed, always with the key in the ignition... my nipples stirred.

We backed off simultaneously, already with that strange mutual agreement that kissers develop, and I knew my eyes were big. "Good rehearsal," I admitted, breathing harder than I thought I'd be. He looked down at my body.

"Your leg is on the chair," he pointed out stupidly. "I mean, that can't be comfortable."

"No," I agreed, and then I was moving my other one carefully up, shifting until I straddled him. "I hope I don't fall."

"I can steady you," he replied, low-voiced. "I'll have to grab your waist, though."

"Grab it." The chair was getting used to supporting both of us, but it felt steady enough. "It'll make it more convincing, anyway." I was already dipping my head, though, wanting to kiss him again, wanting to hear the buzzing in my ears that I'd started noticing as the first kiss went on. It had surprised me. "Let's keep rehearsing," I found myself whispering, and his hands were warm and tight as they found my skin between the shirt and the yoga pants. Mmm.

I like being touched. Maybe I shouldn't have let him.

But that was water under the bridge now, our lips glued together once more. We got quickly into synch, doing that thing where our mouths were opening and closing, opening and closing, in a steady and sensual rhythm while our tongues played. I was laughing openly now, and the next time we came up for air I swatted at his chest. "Okay, okay. I think that's enough."