Parent-Teacher Night

You spent much of the rest of the week confused. You were fairly certain that Miss Card was into you, but there was always something holding her back, some little thing that kept her from pulling the trigger and giving into the feelings that were obviously there. It bugged the hell out of you, and the awkward exchanges you had every day at morning and lunch really got you worked up. Not for the first time did you wish your brain had more experience than that of an eighteen year old.

It wasn’t all bad though. You still found yourself riding high on the memory of Carla’s blowjob, and though she hid it well, every day at school you took note of how her eyes twinkled with delight whenever she looked your way. She moved with confidence, every little gesture a tease that made your dick stir in your pants. Neither of you had addressed the other night, but you knew it was only a matter of time before she tried something else. Your pulse raced at the thought of it.

Things took another turn towards the end of the second week, when parent teacher meetings rolled around. It was honestly a massive pain in the ass, but you did your due diligence and stayed after hours, ready to speak with an army of nagging parents.

You waited in the teacher’s lounge, gathering your notes when Miss Wells stormed in. She marched right over to the kitchen area, cracked open a can of some Japanese black coffee and downed it. She sighed and crumbled the can, “Fuuuck, this is going to be a long evening.”

“You doing ok, Amanda?”

She smiled, wearily. “Heads up, Terri Walsh is here and she’s in full Karen mode. I heard her complaining from the reception.”

You blanched her. Brandon Walsh was the biggest jerk in the school, and his stuck up mother was equally unpleasant in her own way. They were a rich family, and Terri was very much an elitist bitch who had often tried to strong arm the school with her husband’s money and connections to favour her obviously vile son. Your own parents had complained about her, often and loudly.

“Well, shit,” your mind raced, “I’ll have to find some polite way of telling her that her son’s a fucking moron.”

That got a snicker from Amanda. “I plan to smile and nod, let her rant and rave…fuck,” she went to the sink, splashed some water about her face, psyching herself up. “Ok…let’s do this.”

You smiled. Amanda had been one of the firmer, buttoned up teachers you had known as a student, but as an adult and coworker, you really quite liked her company. She funny and at the end of the day a very sweet person who had to adopt a mask of professionalism.

“Alright then, partner,” you said, “ let’s go out there and face the screaming masses.”

The influx of parents was a little alarming at first, especially when they filed into your classroom. You had never shook so many hands in your life. The constant string of pleasantries escaped your mouth, each of them robotic and rehearsed. “Hello. Hello. Welcome. Nice to see you. Thanks for coming," you greeted them all, one after another.

You caught sight of a few interesting faces among the throng. Terri Walsh was there, of course, but sitting next to her was Emily Summers, mother of Brandi and an equally WASPy milf. Both women were attractive, with beauty that had clearly been enhanced by surgery here and there, though Emily was blonde to Terri’s brunette. The two rich milfs spoke to each other in hushed tones, conspiring together like they were a part of the Legion of Doom.

There was also your friend Randall’s ultra religious stepmom, Alice, sitting in her seat watching everyone else judgementally. She was a pretty woman, you could understand why Randall’s dad fell for her, but she dressed so modestly, and she had the personality of a Gila monster.

You felt a tug in your heart when you saw Linda Lowry, Allison’s mother. You known Linda for nearly four years, ever since you and Allison first started going out and in that time you had really liked her. She was an older, thicker version of her daughter and endlessly kind.

Seeing them all, and many other parents you would have to sit with made you release a shuddering breath. You could get through this evening. You called the first parent off your list and invited them over to your desk and the chair left out.

It took forever, and you were exhausted answering so many pedantic questions, but ultimately you found yourself down to the last parent. Your eyes widened when you read the final name, braced yourself.