A Jogger

As you walk towards the cottages you hear the crunch of footsteps on gravel ahead of you, and a moment later the figure of a jogger appears around a curve in the path. Its a young woman in tight spandex running gear, her tanned skin glowing with perspiration. Her head bobs, clearly in tune with the music in her headphones, her concentration entirely on her workout until she suddenly sees you and pulls up with a startled squeak.

"Who are you?" she asks, her eyes wide and slightly alarmed.

"Darnell Sharp. I'm a new teacher here," you smile. "Sorry I startled you."

She nods, her breathing making her spandex wrapped breasts move deliciously.

"It's alright. I should have been paying attention. Monica Fulton. I teach French and Spanish."

She extends a hand, tossing her head to flick her blonde ponytail over her shoulder. Smiling again, you take her hand, gently squeezing her slender fingers.

"History and Geography. I'm looking forward to it."

"Are you? Have you met the boss yet?" she smirks with a nod at the main building.

"Ms. Naylor? Yes we just met. She seems rather serious."

"Tight assed you mean," Monica laughs. "She thinks she's the queen of the place, and she was really annoyed when the decision was made to hire men."

"She said something like that. She thinks we'll be a distraction to some of the students."

"Like they need any distractions. Half of the little bitches spend most of their time thinking up trouble to get into. You'll be a distraction alright," she grins, looking you over. "Just don't get the idea these are a bunch of little innocents."

"Thanks for the warning," you smile, returning her frank gaze and noting the sleekness of her toned body. She grins a preens a bit, bending to brush imaginary dust of her knee and flexing her ripe rump as she does.

"Are you staying in one of the cottages?" she asks.

"Number 5. And you?"

"In the faculty building. Only the senior female teachers have cottages. You and the other men get cottages so you're not distracting us," she laughs throatily, looking at you with open interest.

You give her a lazy, speculative smile. "I was just going to drop my stuff off, then have a look around. Maybe you could be my tour guide?"