Old School by T W Cloth (2000) One of the things that really makes you realize that you're not getting any younger is when your old "stomping grounds" are being torn down in the name of progress. Such was the case when I learned of the imminent demise of my old elementary school. I had spend seven years there, counting Kindergarten, and decided I wanted one last look, for the sake of memories and old times and such. The building... buildings actually... were a mish-mash of styles and sizes. Having been built "as needed" by the growing town, the school was predominantly 3 separate sections, each one dating a decade or two older than the other. I parked my car by the old oak trees that stood near the building that housed the auditorium, the library, and the fifth grade class rooms. The long abandoned principal's office beckoned before me. The building, the oldest of the three, had been condemned and I stood looking at the warning tape across the doors. It was early on a Monday morning, and since this place was abandoned for so long, I knew nobody would be nosing around (but me, of course), so I ignored the tape. I smiled as I remembered Mrs. Kinard, one of the fifth grade teachers. I remembered fondly how I'd always watch her walk. She always, or it seemed that she always, wore short skirts or shorts and sandals. I didn't understand it then, but I grew up with a keen fascination, maybe even a fetish, for the female leg... and especially the foot. It had taken me a long time to recognize the "crush" I'd had on Mrs. Kinard was the early beginnings of lust. She had never been my teacher, but she was always around. She arrived early and left after everybody. It seemed that she lived to torment the kids; they would quake in their boots when she turned a corner and caught them doing the things that ten and eleven-year-olds would do. Of course I never quaked with fear... I tried to get in a position where I could watch her legs and her feet for as long as I could. Back then she seemed old; though her skin was smooth and light, her hair had started turning gray, becoming a mixture of salt and pepper. She was probably in her late thirties or early forties; but back then that seemed ancient to one so young. I smiled again. I hadn't thought about her for years. She would be 65 or 70 by now... if she were even still alive... I ducked under the warning tape and found the old door to be unlocked. I entered and moved into the darkened corridor. Early morning light filtered through the dirty windows, but it was not bright. I smelled the must of years gone by and brushed a cobweb from my face. There was a kind of mist in the air, smelling sickly sweet and old and overpowering... then I heard it. Tap...tap...tap...tap...tap...tap... I recognized the sound immediately... as if it was only yesterday... it was the sound of her walking... the sound of her sandals on the old linoleum floor. I shook my head. It couldn't be. I turned the corner and it was! Mrs. Kinard. Mrs. Kinard as she had been the last time I remembered seeing her, dressed in white shorts and white sandals with a pink button-up blouse. Firm, smooth legs. Medium sized breasts. Salt and pepper hair. Walking toward her classroom and stopping to unlock the door. She was here... I was here... how could it be? It must be a dream... yeah, that's it... it had to be a dream. O.k.... o.k.... what would I do in my dream... yeah, that's it. I'd "take" her. Hell, nobody else around, if only I had... what's that? I reached into my pocket and found I had a bottle of chloroform and a white cotton cloth. Yeah, only in a dream... I watched as Mrs. Kinard went into her classroom and the door closed behind her. Her room stood directly across from the rear entrance to the auditorium; to the backstage area where they kept props and costumes and stuff when they had a play. I moved to that door and found it unlocked. I snuck inside and watched and waited. I remembered stories that Mrs. Kinard always set up her class, wrote on the blackboard the assignment, then went out to torment the kids. I prepared my cloth with a liberal amount of chloroform... hey, if it's a dream I can't run out, can I? Soon she emerged from her room and turned to lock the door. I sprung at that moment, and before she could react had grabbed her from behind and lifted her off the floor with my left arm around her waist as my right hand and the chloroform soaked pad it held found her nose and mouth. She kicked and flailed with her sandal-clad feet. My shins were banged a couple of times, but I barely felt it. Her left arm was trapped beneath my arm, pinned to her side, but her right hand was free. I felt the key as it dug into my skin as she tried desperately to pull my hand away from her face. Before she could actually do any damage with the key, however, she dropped it. I could feel her body relax some as the initial effect of the drug raced into her lungs. She gasped a bit, which did even more damage, and gave one final kick. I began to move us back toward the auditorium and her protestations ceased with a little cough. I removed the cloth from her face and lifted her into my arms. Damn but this was a great dream. I gazed at the unconscious beauty of this woman who should be an old lady by now, there helpless in my arms. I could feel the power and excitement stirring in my loins as I carried her from the abandoned corridor into the just as abandoned auditorium. There were old clothes and rags piled all over the floor, and I laid her on a particularly soft looking pile. I couldn't believe the power and the magnitude of the dream. My senses were in heaven. I could hear the gentle inhale and exhale of her breath as she slept innocently; I could see the rise and the fall of her breasts beneath that pink shirt. I could savor and was about to taste the legs and feet that had intrigued me those long years before. I was in heaven. The smell; her cologne, the fragrance of her shampoo and conditioner as I had carried her; it filled my senses to overload. I was more filled with desire and lust than I had ever been in my life. I began to unfasten her sandals and slide them from her feet. Had I not been in a dream, I would not have believed possible the tenderness and sweetness of a pair of feet. This woman must have spent hours pampering them. Perfect nails, painted a perfect pink. Pedicured evenly and freshly. Not a callus to be seen or felt. Smooth, soft, tender flesh above and beneath. I was in overcome with desire as I massaged and kissed and licked and sucked on that cool, soft flesh. The faintest scent between her toes, the incredible taste... I could have stayed at her feet forever, but for a raging hard-on that demanded it's own pleasure. I moved upward. Mrs. Kinard had been out almost half an hour, so I reapplied the chloroform... just two or three breaths... to insure my uninterrupted pleasure. I began to nervously unbutton her blouse. Lifting her to a sitting position, I pulled her free of it, and unfastened the bra. Her breasts were medium, like I said, with sweet pink nipples. They were just a bit saggy, but not too much so; and I fully savored ravishing them. With my rod screaming, I turned my attention to her shorts. I removed them and drew an audible gasp of air. Never had I seen such a gorgeous pussy, soft hair outlined her box, pink lips accentuated her slit and my mouth watered. The rush of lust was still overpowering me. I had to taste, and drink deep of her love. I tossed the shorts with the rest of her clothes... and smelled the white cotton panties. They were fresh and clean, with the faintest smell of woman...I jammed them into my pocket. To insure my continued hold over her, I rolled her over and bound her arms behind her back with a length of old rope I found laying nearby. When I rolled her back onto her back, the "lift" her arms being tied beneath her gave her back accentuated the breasts all the more; causing them to be forced upward, invitingly. I gave them some more attention, then stripped myself. Moving back to the sweet V of her womanhood, I allowed my tongue to taste of her juices. Once again I realized that this dream was the most awesome thing I had ever experienced. I could taste the sweetness and feel the inviting warmth and moisture of her receptacle. It was time. With Mrs. Kinard still unconscious, and also having been helpless bound should she wake, I allowed my rod to find it's way through the waiting lips and into her vagina. It was warm and wet and tight and ecstasy inducing. I moved back and forth slowly at first, overcome by the pleasure, and sure that I could feel her muscles tightening and loosening, drawing me closer and closer to climax. When I orgasmed I thought I was going to die. I came and came and came... like I had a lifetime of fluid and lust and desire being spent at that one instant. I collapsed exhausted beside her, and lay there catching my breath for a few minutes. With the woman still unconscious and bound, I redressed myself. I took one last look, from that peaceful face down to those succulent feet... and left her there. I was sure it was time to wake up, so I moved out the door and toward the door I had originally entered. Sure enough, the mist and dust and must invaded my lungs again and I coughed and began to lose focus... When I woke up I was naked in my bed. The sun shone brightly. I shook my head to clear the cobwebs... cobwebs... yes, the dream... I remember it... Smiling as I showered and prepared for the day, I wondered what had ever happened to that lovely lady. Man, what a hallucination... if I could bottle whatever caused it... As I dressed and began to move my wallet and change and stuff from my dirty pants to the clean... I pulled out the panties. I sat on the bed, stunned... I hesitantly smelled them... yes, it was her smell... How? How could... no, it couldn't be... I mean, she'd be an old lady... I had to know. I called the school board. They always kept tabs on former teachers, and it wouldn't seem to strange for a former student to wonder about a teacher who perhaps made an impact on their life... to my chagrin, and my sheer amazement... I learned that Mrs. Kinard had vanished... just a couple of years after I had last seen her. Nobody knew where or why. She was just gone. Oh shit. I was freaked out. What had I raped... a ghost? I thought it was a dream... a fantasy... but it was turning into something more fantastic than I could have ever imagined. The next morning I repeated my steps. I drove to the school. I parked my car. I watched the squirrels chase one another merrily up and down the old oak trees. I heard the crunch of acorns on the asphalt as I moved toward the door. I looked skyward. The sun was rising and the sky was turning a bright blue. It was going to be an incredible day; one I'd never forget, to be sure. Re-entering that old building was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I was totally terrified at what I'd find. But I pushed forward. I had to know and I had to go. The mist was there, invading my sinuses and overpowering me again. I stood and listened. There was the tap...tap...tap...tap... I turned the corner and saw it. Saw her, them, and ME! Oh, no. I was forced to watch. I watched as Mrs. Kinard emerged from the classroom and as I chloroformed her and carried her unconscious body into the auditorium. I moved toward the door. I watched as I removed her sandals and like a man possessed ravaged her feet. I knew I had spent a long time, but watching it seemed like an eternity. Of course I saw it all. The re-chloroforming, the stripping and binding and raping. God, I'd not have done that to her if I had known it was real. It was supposed to be a dream... hell, IT HAD TO BE A DREAM. STILL! As my other self, my "evil twin" so to speak, finished feeding his lusts and dressed, I pondered what to do. I wanted to rescue Mrs. Kinard, to take her someplace safe and help her. But did I dare. Would she die or turn into an old lady if I took her from here. I wondered as I watched "myself" leave. I stood over her, unconscious there on the pile of rags. I could feel the force building up in me... the lust and the desire that had fueled me the day before. "Take her! Take her! DO IT!" it seemed to scream to every fiber of my being. "NO!" I shouted and slapped myself in the face. There was but one answer. I had to risk her existence, I mean, what kind of existence was this? So I untied her and put her shorts and shirt back on her. I picked her up and carried her in my arms. As I emerged into the corridor, I felt terror. Stark terror. I wanted to drop her and run for my life! I set my jaw and moved forward. I could see the mist. The light filtered through it. I repositioned Mrs. Kinard so she was over my shoulder, and held my hand over my nose and mouth. If I could get to the door without breathing... I was sure this mist was part of the terror! I couldn't hope to explain... but I had to get her through it and to freedom. I marched forward. I felt like I was in a storm, my eyes burned. I was almost at the door. For a brief second, as I fought to keep my eyes open I thought I saw activity outside the door. Children running, a parking lot full of cars. There went the principal toward his office. But then it was gone. My car stood alone. It was dark, the wind was blowing. I made it to the door. As I emerged, I could have sworn I heard an audible roar from behind me. I didn't turn to look... damn, was I suddenly in Amityville? I hurriedly put Mrs. Kinard into the car. I saw she was still breathing and settled for that for the time being. The wind buffeted me, and thunder was cracking. I fired up the engine of my car and backed out. A bolt of lighting struck the oak tree I had been parked beneath and I watched in my rearview mirror as it toppled across the building. I heard the sound of an explosion... and what I could have sworn was a high-pitched scream... and then, thank god, I was out of range. I adjusted my rearview mirror and watched Mrs. Kinard as I drove. She was still sleeping. Her face was a picture of blissful peace. While I regretted what I had done physically, I understood that had I not been there... she would still be trapped in whatever that was. I pulled into my driveway and into my garage. I carried Mrs. Kinard inside and laid her on my sofa. My breathing quickened as I touched her flesh again and as I smelled the fragrance of her. I went to the bathroom and got a cool washcloth. I began to wipe her face and brow. Her eyes fluttered and opened. She sat up and looked at me. There was a bit of terror and a bit of insanity in her eyes. "Mrs. Kinard," I said slowly, "can you tell me what happened to you..." "No... no... NO!" she screamed before I could finish my sentence, "NO... KEEP AWAY!! KEEP..." And with that she fainted dead away. Shit. I laid her back down on the sofa. I sat on a chair across the room and waited for her to wake. Watching this impossibility sleeping so near me... I wished I could help her... wished beyond wish that I hadn't been part of her torture... I watched as those old yet young breasts rose with each breath. I watched her feet, feet that had taken her into the terrifying unknown... but feet that were the sexiest I had ever seen, touched or tasted. I wanted to be there for her... I had this urgent feeling that this was my calling... this was what my life was for. And then she awoke again. She stirred slowly and groggily sat up. I smiled from across the room. "Good morning," I said softly, "sleep well." "I feel good," she said, "but... who are you... and who am I?" It was fitting and probably for the best. Whatever she had experienced for those lost years had been terror beyond description. I smiled at her and tried to comfort her. "Last night you said your name was Melanie," I said, pulling a name from the air, "and you needed a place to sleep." "Oh," she said, "thank you." "Can I get you anything, breakfast perhaps?" I offered. "No... yes... can you come sit with me... hold me... I'd like that," she said. "So would I." So I sat next to her on the sofa. She snuggled up to me and I wrapped my arm around her shoulder. She lay against me and I could again smell the fragrance of her beauty, and feel the warmth of her body. I savored the rhythm of her breathing, and then I felt her drift off to sleep again. A couple of hours later she woke. I hadn't moved. The situation was too sweet. "Can I stay with you," she asked, "I don't have a clue who I am or who you are... but it feels right to be here." "And it feels right to have you here," I said. I looked into her eyes. There was innocence and there was love. For me it was a perfect combination. Slowly she closed her eyes, and I moved closer and kissed her. It was sweet. I knew it would be. I'll probably never understand how or why all this happened. But I'm thankful that it did. Nobody ever did find out about Mrs. Kinard. The school was leveled by a bulldozer a couple of days after a freak fire destroyed the auditorium and 5th grade section. And Melanie... Mrs. Kinard... well we're still together, married. She volunteers at the YMCA working with children. Were this a fairy tale, you might say we were living happily ever after. And we are.
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