Old School

Old School

by ______________________ (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 he 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.