Snowed in at School

Excerpt

Miss Lucy Conrad

"Three reindeer and a ginger snowman, that'll be eighty pence please, Sara."

I took the proffered pound coin from the smiling child and gave her back the change and her bag of cakes.

"Thanks Miss Conrad," she said and skipped off.

I really enjoyed baking for the school fairs, even though I would end up cooking into the wee hours of the morning to get everything done on time. It was watching the kids' faces light up as they ate one of my treats which I liked the most.

"Hello Miss Conrad, how are sales?"

I nodded at Mr Stephenson, the year six teacher, and replied with a smile, "Very well, very well. The reindeer are proving particularly popular. How's the tombola?"

"All the prizes have been won so I'm having a look around the other stalls. I had to come here first, I was afraid you might have sold out."

"I still have a few things left, what would you like?"

"Everything looks so sweet," he said with a cheeky smile.

I blushed and imagined that maybe he was including me in that statement. If only. Mr Stephenson was way out of my league.

He ran a hand through his dark hair and I bit my lip. I wondered what it'd be like to run my hands through his hair and I decided it would be sublime. His words jogged me from my day dream.

"Can I take a snowman biscuit, it's ginger isn't it?"

"Yeah, my secret gingerbread recipe, in fact."

"Nice, I'll have two snowmen then and a rum truffle."

"Oh, the rum truffle is my favourite," I chattered as I tried to still my hands enough to place his cakes into a bag, "instant Christmas in a mouthful those are."

"Yeah, they look really succulent. I just can't wait to get my mouth around them."

I glanced to the side and could swear he was looking down the cleavage of my modest blouse.

"Mr Stephenson, do you want more than one?" I asked with a puzzled look.

"Oh, yes, yes," he said, "two please, they look so good."

"Right, well, that will be one pound twenty, sir."

A twinge of arousal zipped from my lips to, well, my 'womanly core' as the romance books would put it. You see, I'd often fantasised about playing the naughty school girl to Mr Stephenson's strict head teacher. Calling him sir made me wet.

"Okay, Miss," he winked.

I blushed and just for a moment I wondered if he knew what was going on in my mind but his smile was so innocent and dimply he couldn't possible know the sordid thoughts in my mind.

"Here, keep the change."

"Thanks." I took the money and enjoyed the brush of his hand against mine.

"Miss Conrad, Miss Conrad," A little voice pulled me from my daydreams.

"Yes, Sam?"

"What would be nice for me mum? She's been a bit poorly and I want to take her a treat."

"That's very nice of you, Sam," I smiled. "Does she like ginger?"

As Sam ummed and ahhed I caught Mr Stephenson's gaze; he waved and walked away. I felt so silly, like a teenager with a crush but I was seriously infatuated with the man and had been since I arrived at the school back in September.

"Miss, I said I don't think she does, I think she'd like a mince pie. She likes mince pies."

"Oh, right, of course." I snapped myself out of my daydream. "These are lovely even if I do say so myself."

* * * *

I didn't see Mr Stephenson again until I was walking over to my car after the Christmas fair had finished. I had bags filled with empty plastic boxes in my hands and my school file under my arm.

"Let me help you with those, Lucy," he said from behind me. "You're going to drop something."

He took two carrier bags from my hands and freed me to grip my file much more tightly.

"Thanks, I should have made two trips but I wanted to get home."

"I know what you mean," he said, "I've got a pile of marking to do."

"And I've got my tea in the slow cooker," I replied with a laugh. "So very glamorous."

"Least you've got a nice meal waiting for you when you get home. I've just got my marking."

This was something I could never get my head around. He was such a handsome chap, kind, witty and all yet he was single in his late thirties. I'd have snapped him up years ago if I'd known him. I'd have given it a good go anyway.

"There's something not right here, you know. I think we're married to the job." I grinned wryly.

"You're right," he said as I opened the boot of my car. "One of these days I might just get a life outside the classroom, you know?"

"I hear you," I nodded and took the bags from him trying not to look too hard at his long, strong fingers or his thick juicy palms. I knew if I noticed them I would conjure up images in my mind of his raised hand over my naked backside as I bent over his lap ready for my longed-for punishment.

"Are you okay?" he asked and I looked back up to his confused face.

"Oh, yes, yes. I'm just tired, need to get home. Thanks for your help. I'll see you bright and early in the morning, all right?"

"Yes, you young ones need your sleep," he laughed and walked off in the direction of his car.

"Young one?" I laughed, "I'm only ten years younger than you, Mr Stephenson. I'm not that young."

"Whatever you say, whippersnapper," he winked and got into his battered old red car. "See you."

"Bye," I waved and sat down in the driver's seat of my car. I had to face it; I had no chance with Mr Stephenson, Hell, I could hardly bear to think of him by his first name he was so much out of my league. He saw me as some young ward he needed to protect. He'd never see me in a sexual way; he'd never imagine kissing me, caressing me, spanking me in the way I fantasised about. Anyway, who was I trying to kid? Even if we were the same age, he'd never look at me. I'm the fat kid, always have been. My breasts blossomed early in life and my hips have always been wide. I was teased for my curves all through my school days and I knew the older kids in my current school called me fat behind my back. Why would a handsome guy like Mr. Stephenson fall for a fat kid like me?