A morning with Grace.

That Thursday morning I was the first to arrive at school, as usual. Isabelle had stopped trying to follow me, either because saw no point to it anymore or because she couldn’t keep up with the extra 30 minutes I had ahead of her. She wasn’t a morning person no matter how hard she tried.

By this point, the order of arrival was mostly settled. I lived the closest, so I was the first to arrive. Sarah was usually last because she had to open her family’s shop, and Mila was only slightly ahead of her because her parents decided that they were saving fuel and time if they made her take her little brother to school every morning. Poor boy probably arrived earlier than any of his friends. The first one to arrive after me was always Grace, since she didn’t have anything else to do in the mornings.

She came into the old music room, closing the door behind her without the latch. We had already switched to our winter uniforms. Even in fall, the weather got a lot colder. Grace had her pleated dark blue skirt, of course, but also went for black stockings. For the cold, no doubt, but they made her look even sexier. We all had a choice of wearing the school jacket, the school sweater, or both. Grace picked only the dark blue sweater for now. It fit her just a bit loosely, as it was a size bigger than it should be for her. When I asked, she said that a size smaller felt too tight around the chest.

“Good morning, Grace,” I said from my chair.

Instead of answering, Grace walked to me with her beautiful, eager smile. She sat on my lap, facing me, and held my head in place before she drew me into a deep, wet kiss that started tongue first.

I wasn’t going to fight it, so I wrapped my arms around her and returned it with equal eagerness. No matter how many times I tasted her mouth, I would never get tired of it, especially not when she let out those sweet, soft moans like she was already rising to a small climax.

She pulled away with a small thread of saliva still connecting us for a couple of seconds before it broke. Her pupils were already slightly dilated. Breathing heavily, she said, “Congratulations on getting a job.”

“Thank you.” I moved one of my hands down, under her skirt, to start rubbing her thigh. Her legs really looked amazing in stockings, and the fabric itself was soft to the touch. “I got lucky. I didn’t think I’d get it. I saw the ad and asked, just in case.”

“Luck or not, that’s not important. What’s important is that you keep it.”

I nodded. “I’m nervous. I’ve always been afraid to be a waiter.”

“The coffee shop is small. Even if it’s ever full, you won’t be dealing with numbers as high as a restaurant. Besides, you’ll get the hang of it quickly. You’re a quick learner.”

Even if she was saying it just to give me some confidence, I still felt better.

Grace gently ran the back of her fingers against my cheek. “Tell us when you have your first shift. We’ll be your first customers.”

“Speaking of. The owner, Ms. Maria –she told me not to call her miss– remembers that I asked you three out at her shop. She asked and teased me about it.”

“Oh? That sexy lady at the counter?” Grace smirked. “You’ll be working with her from now on?”

I nodded easily. “And Thomas has a crush on her.”

Grace’s eyebrows shot up along with a smile. “No kidding?”

I chuckled. “He saw her for the first time yesterday and got all shy around her.”

“You know, an older girl might be good for him.” Grace nodded to herself.

“He’s scared to ask her out, though. Him of all people.”

Grace giggled. “I bet an older woman is more intimidating to approach.”

I swallowed. Should I tell her?

…

No, I’ll keep to myself the thought that Thomas saw me as a threat. For now, at least. If it ever became a bigger issue, I’d tell them.

“Don’t tease him, please,” I told her instead.

“I won’t. If anything, I’ll encourage him. He needs to act quickly, or she will end up falling for you in only a couple of days.”

“Grace…”

“I’m joking.” She pecked my lips. “Mostly.”

I needed to change the subject. “Will you show me the picture you mentioned last night now?”

“Oh, you remember, huh? Made you curious?” she teased, tracing a finger along my jaw.

“Always. And the ‘Grace’ folder in my phone has fewer pictures than my ‘Mila’ and ‘Sarah’ folders.”

“Hmm. I can’t have that. I can’t have that at all.”

She grabbed her phone and, without showing me the screen, sent me the picture. I looked at my own phone to see it, and almost dropped it from the shock. You’d think I’d grow used to it by now, but these girls showed me some outrageous things when I least expected it.

Case in point, I was now looking at a picture of Grace in front of the mirror of her room, wearing a gray sweater dress with a wide, vertical slit on the front that put on display most of her cleavage, no, half her naked chest and even some of her stomach, just barely hiding her nipples. The elaborately knit dress also had an open back, with no shoulders and a high neck. It was highly risque, bordering on indecent. And MY GOD did she look like a goddess in it.

Grace leaned closer and nibbled on my earlobe, whispering. “What if I wore that on our next date?”

My hand moved subconsciously from Grace’s thigh back to her butt. My dick was getting hard already. I looked at the picture, at those nearly exposed breasts, then at the real deal right in front of me, clad in a much more modest sweater.

“Tempting, but I don’t want anyone else to see you like that,” I told her, putting my phone away and moving both my hands to squeeze her tits.

Grace let out a soft squeal and shuddered. She kissed my neck up and down.

“You know I’m yours, love. If it’s you, I wouldn’t mind you showing me off to everyone.” I felt her grin against my neck. “Show them this sexy piece of ass you made yours.”

Sometimes Grace would say things like that to tease me or to talk dirty, but this one was particularly strange because I was sure by now she wasn’t the type to appreciate being shown around like a piece of meat or a trophy wife.

“I don’t need to do that,” I told her.

She sighed with just the slightest hint of disappointment. “I know you don’t.”

“Grace?”

“Don’t you ever feel like wanting to get back at the people who wronged you?”

People who wronged me? “Hm? Who are you talking about?”

She smiled wryly. “Right. I guess it’s fresher in my mind than yours.”

What was she talking about?