Title:           [Part 4, WIP] I can't think of a name.
Author:          Estradt
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/D74whceR
First Edit:      Tuesday 6th of January 2015 04:04:36 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Last edit on: Thursday 8th of January 2015 12:20:18 PM CDT

>"Another talk with Mrs. C again, eh?" Gilda says, grinning at you.
>You step out of the classroom into the hall and with a grumble adjust your pants.
>With that, you and Gilda join the students bustling towards the lunchroom.
"So what do you want for your birthday, Gilda?"
>"How did you know my birthday was soon? You aren't stalking me are you?"
"Mrs. C told me."
>Gilda thinks on your question for a bit while putting things on her lunch tray. You've noticed recently that she's been grabbing less things.
>You sit down, and finally Gilda says, "Nice Food. Fried chicken, or pizza, or something."
"That's boring, and also a strange definition of nice."
>"It's what I want, dweeb."
"There isn't anything else?"
>Gilda responds by taking an aeronautical magazine out of her backpack and reading it while chomping down on a sandwich.
>You shrug and begin eating lunch yourself.
>"Hi, Anon!"
>You turn to see a girl with curly, orange hair and turtle shell glasses.
>You grin and scoot over slightly, letting her sit down next to you.
>Scribble Dee smiles and says, "Hi Gilda!"
>Gilda grunts as a greeting, not letting her gaze drop from the magazine.
>Scribble's smile droops a little, and then she turns to her food.
>You frown.
>Ever since you introduced the two things have been a little awkward.
>Scribble Dee seems to honestly be trying to be friends with Gilda, or at the very least she is being nice.
>Gilda... Is being civil. She hasn't technically insulted her or anything, but you wish she'd be a little less gruff.
>It's more like, whenever Scribble Dee is around Gilda refuses to say more than two or three words at a time.
>It's lucky that Scribble Dee is in AP classes and that she has a pretty steep curfew on school days, or you might never speak to Gilda at all.
 
>"S-so, um... How are things?" Scribble says a bit unsure.
"It's Gilda's birthday soon."
>"Oh!" Scribble Dee says perking up, "That's wonderful! Um, is there anything you want for your-"
>"Food. Good food." Gilda says.
>"Ah, b-but... I mean-"
>Gilda's eyes finally shoot over the top of the magazine, silencing your girlfriend immediately.
>Gilda stares for a second longer
>Without breaking her gaze she closes the magazine and taps the front cover.
>On it is a scene with a few swooping military jets flying in a formation. The planes are sleek and shiny, and all of them are painted an electric blue with a bright yellow streak down the center.
>"You guys want to get me something that badly? Get me a blue angel."
"Come on, you know we can't do that. What are you getting so riled up about?" You say, getting slightly annoyed yourself.
>You friend suddenly stands up, puts the magazine in her bag, and picks up her sandwich.
>"I'm going to go see if-", Gilda starts before cutting herself off mid-sentence.
>You can tell that for a brief second she was trying to think of a way to finish that sentence, but Gilda simply stuffs her sandwich in her mouth and walks off, leaving the comment hanging in the air.
>You are quite sure that she was going to say something about "Chryssie".
>You both are trying to keep how close you are to Mrs. C a secret, for very obvious reasons.
>Scribble Dee stands slightly, sits down again, stands back up once more, and then returns to her seat.
>"A-ah, should we...?" She says, gesturing after Gilda.
"No, she'll be fine."
>You play with the food on the end of your fork, half-plans and incomplete schemes about her gift playing in your mind.
>You suddenly realize that Scribble is watching you.
>"So... Err... Are you going to get her anything for her birthday?"
"She wants a blue angel? I'm going to get her a blue angel."
>"Huh? How?"
"That's what I'm trying to come up with."
 
~~~~~
 
>"Harder! Harder!" Gilda moans, gripping and pulling at her teacher's hips.
>Chryssie obliges, and in addition brings a hand to Gilda's face and massages it.
>The teacher caresses a finger against Gilda's lips, and immediately Gilda takes it in her mouth and sucks on it.
>Mrs. C giggles at this.
>The haughty teenager she was currently pounding with a strap-on had come in during lunchtime and had practically begged to be fucked right then and there.
>Of course, they had to wait until the end of school, but that seems to have only intensified Gilda's lust.
>Removing the fingers from Gilda's mouth, Mrs. C puts her hands against the desk they were having sex on, and pounds harder.
>Between Gilda's cries, the sweat, the smells, and the wet slapping sounds of the fake phallus, Mrs. C's pleasure was getting to the breaking point.
>Gilda has been favoring this little toy for the last week or so.
>This was especially noticeable considering the first time they had used it together Gilda just wasn't that into it.
>This favoritism hadn't escaped Chryssie, and she had a pretty good idea why this was so.
>Gilda throws her head back, quivering a giving a slightly stifled gasp of ecstasy.
>Chryssie closes her own eyes and allows herself to peak, letting out a much less restrained cry.
>Taking a few moments to catch her breath, Mrs. C leans forward and gives Gilda a passionate kiss, and then steps away, pulling the toy out.
>This elicits a pant, and then a sigh from Gilda, who continues to lay there.
>"Feeling any better?" Chryssie asks, pulling the strap-on off, cleaning it slightly with a towel (she'll do a better job when she get's home), and setting it in a bag.
>"Yeah..." Gilda says breathlessly, finally sitting up.
>"Want to talk about whatever is wrong?" Chryssie says, picking up her panties and tights.
>"I'm... Not sure to be honest. I've just been in the mood recently." Gilda says, finding her bra and snapping it on.
 
>Mrs. C had to be subtle about this.
>If she didn't push hard enough Gilda probably wouldn't think of it at all, bless her silly heart.
>If she pushed Gilda too hard her rebelliousness would kick in, as well as Gilda's misguided desire to be with her forever.
>And that would just delay the inevitable.
>These "delays" would be fun for Mrs. C, especially if they led to more sessions like this, in the end it would just hurt Gilda.
>And Mrs. C didn't want that.
>Chryssie starts with some light chatter as they continuing dressing, asking about classes, homework, home, before moving up to various students, and finally...
"How are things with you and Anon? He's with that Scribble Dee girl correct?"
>"Yeah" Gilda grunts.
"Oh? Is there a problem?" Chryssie asks like she didn't know.
>"Hell yeah! I mean-" Gilda starts, finally completing her ensemble by pulling up the zipper on her bomber jacket, "He could do better, you know? So much fucking better, and yet he picks her!"
"Maybe he sees something worthwhile in Ms. Dee?" Mrs. C says, getting everything fully zipped up and packed away.
>Gilda rolls her eyes, "I don't see anything in Scribble that isn't in a million other girls. Hell, they hadn't even talked to each other hardly before their first date! If anything Anon picked her on a whim, after I shot down two other of his suggestions."
"Perhaps he is into the nerdy girl look?"
>"I think he's just desperate for a fuck." Gilda replies bluntly.
"If you really think that, then maybe you should get them to fuck." Mrs. C says.
>Chryssie knows that Gilda would just harp on this excuse until it is proven wrong. Best to show her wrong as quickly as possible.
>"Bah! You don't think I haven't tried? I keep telling Anon to just take her, but he's too much of a puss to even ask!"
>"Hmm..." Mrs. C says, watching with a smile at Gilda's escalating annoyance, "May I make a suggestion?"
 
~~~~~