Stop the Presses, Part 2bypatricia51

"Are you sure?"

"Am I completely without a doubt one-hundred percent sure without question? NO. I'm only ninety-nine percent sure."

"Maybe you're wrong."

"Paris, you heard her. That wasn't a simple observation. Ms. Peters is way to sharp not to have figured out what was going on. Not just my clothing, but our make-up, our expressions, even the state of the Headmaster's desk for heavens sake. They all would give it away to someone not as dense as Charleston and goodness knows she is anything but dense."

"All she said was that your blouse wasn't buttoned properly." Paris clung to the fading hope that the words their advisor had spoken meant only exactly what they said.

Rory rolled her eyes. "Wake UP Paris. She KNOWS."

"Oh GOD." Paris sat down abruptly. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't know," admitted Rory. The two girls came together, holding each other, both seeking and giving reassurance. "I don't know."

For days the pair was on pins and needles. They had learned their lesson in one important respect; they maintained physical distance at school and were careful not to indulge in looks of longing across the halls or classrooms. At the same time though they kept up being close and chatty, after all, they were still best friends. They just had to balance that with the fact that they were now also lovers. The first was well-known, the second something they still wanted to keep under wraps. Not only did they fear the reception from friends, teachers and family but neither of them had yet the slightest clue where they were going with what they had admitted was a relationship "of some kind or other." Was it just a mutual crush? Was it something deeper?

During the nearly agonizing period of waiting they did manage to find some time together. There was no waking up together but there was some delicious fun of other kinds. Returning one evening from a college fair at the school Paris suddenly veered down a side road and pulled into a dirt lane. She shut off the car and grinned at Rory.

"Gee, I think we're out of gas!"

"Oh dear!" Rory pretended to cry out. "What will happen? We're all alone and lost out here in the dark and the wild, wild woods."

"There, there, fear not," soothed Paris as she took her friend into her arms. "I'll protect you."

Kisses were exchanged. Hands ran over each other. Paris deftly unbuttoned the brunette's blazer and blouse and slid her hand inside Rory's bra. The other girl gasped, a gasp that the blonde returned as Rory ran her hand up the outside of the well formed leg pressing against her to cup the rounded bottom and creep under the panties that did a very poor job of concealing the tight cheeks.

"But who," panted Rory as the kisses intensified, "Will protect you fair maiden?"

The pair toppled sideways with Rory on top. Grasping hands continued to explore. Then Rory's pantyhose thigh pressed between Paris' legs and began to rub there. At the same time a planted foot and a bended knee saw a smooth bare thigh touch the taller girl in her own intimate place. The girls frantically ground against each other until they both exploded.

The pair snuggled for a bit before Paris began to only partially mock complain about the cramped space they were in. They sat up and attempted to help each other readjust their clothing enough to cover up their activities for the brief period they would each have before going to bed when they got to their respective homes. Of course it took longer to get straightened out as fingers had a habit of wandering inside the clothing they were supposed to be helping the other put in order.

In the midst of the giggling and touching Paris suddenly sat upright with an exclamation.

"What is it?" asked Rory, almost alarmed at first.

"Guess what? Madeline overheard a couple of the women who work up in the front office at school talking. It seems that Ms. Peters got a bit of a scolding from Mr. Charleston. Apparently she had scattered some papers the day we spent in the office and didn't get them back in the proper order. She told him she was sorry but she had not been paying attention when she shifted stuff to sit on the desk when she talked to us. After all, there are only two other chairs and she told him she didn't feel right sitting in HIS chair."

"I don't follow you," replied Rory.

"Don't you see? WE were the ones who scattered all that stuff. We knew we didn't get it all back exactly where it belonged but we thought he might not notice. She covered for us."

"Wow, so she did." The girls hugged. "We should have known better, after all," said Rory thoughtfully. Ms. Peters is a wonderful person and she's very fond of both of us. She wouldn't have said anything if she had caught us on top of that desk I bet."

"Hmmm," teased Paris. "Do I detect a bit of a crush there? "Wonderful?'."

Rory snuggled with her friend and kissed her. "Jealous?" she teased back.

"Maybe. Maybe not. She IS very attractive after all."

"Indeed."

That conversation sparked an idea that Rory was to mull over for a couple of days until the next meeting of "The Franklin" staff. When the meeting was over Rory managed to dither around doing little things to delay her departure until only she and Ms. Peters were left in the room. She scooped up her books and started to leave, only to make some indistinct remark and set her books down on the last desk. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that the advisor was looking at her.

Once again making a mumbling noise, Rory turned slightly and looked down. Her fingers caught them hem of her skirt and pulled it up just a little. She held it with one hand as she stroked her blue pantyhose with the fingers of the other one as though she was smoothing it on her leg. She bent her leg at the knee, making the muscles flex. She saw Ms. Peters opened her mouth to say something and then abruptly shut it when Rory hiked her skirt up even farther.

Rory slipped her foot from her shoe and balanced on her toes as though she was posing, which of course she was. She turned slightly back and forth, both to insure Ms. Peters had a good look at her as she smoothed and adjusted her pantyhose and to covertly gauge the woman's reaction. Both were quite satisfactory. She continued her ministrations to her leg, working the side of her skirt up until it was nearly at her waist. She ran her fingers up farther, touching not only the back of her thigh but the now showing curve of her bottom. Those fingers lingered there until with a satisfied grunt she dropped her skirt, slid her foot back into her shoe, gathered up her books and without looking at the desk left the room.

Later on, as they walked toward the parking lot, with barely concealed glee she told Paris what she had done.

"You didn't!" marveled her friend.

"I did," answered Rory, who was almost as amazed as Paris that she had actually gone through with her idea.

"And? What was her reaction?"

Rory giggled, almost giddy with excitement. "At first I thought she was going to say something like 'What are you doing?'. She didn't. I was careful peeking at her but she just sat there and stared. I swear her eyes were fixed on what I was doing and nothing else. She looked like she was hypnotized."

"Well, after all," breathed Paris, "They ARE very nice legs you know." Rory jumped as a set of fingers trailed up her leg in almost the same fashion as she had just described."

"Hey now! Not in public."

"There's no one around."

The girls were wrong. A certain dark-haired, dark-eyed advisor was watching through the window of her office. She caught her breath as Paris touched Rory. She watched as the girls linked fingers for just a moment before they scampered out of sight. Turning away from the window once they were gone she walked back to her desk and sat down.

Angelina's mind was in a whirl. Earlier she had started to mention to Rory that she should go to the ladies Room before adjusting her pantyhose and found that she couldn't say a word. Her eyes had locked onto the smooth slender leg and followed the seemingly unaware girl's exploration of it. When Rory had shifted and Angelina had caught sight of the swell of the young woman's butt she had nearly moaned.

Moaned! At one of her students and another girl at that. She had to think this through.

The idea that Paris and Rory were involved had come as a bit of a surprise but had not really bothered her. They were still two nice girls that she liked a lot. Whatever happened between them was fine with her as long as they were happy.

That eveining the drive back to her apartment seemed to speed by. She spent the evening correcting papers and entering grades in her laptop as well as reviewing this weeks projected layout of "The Franklin". All of her actions were rather mechanical though tonight as her thoughts kept straying to what she had witnessed in the parking lot and in the classroom today.

She wished she could call her sometimes boyfriend David but he was out of town at a seminar and wouldn't be back for a week. Why hadn't she insisted on getting his hotel name and room number? Perhaps they took too much for granted; perhaps anything out of their ordinary on and off routine just wasn't done. But tonight she wanted to talk to him. In fact, tonight she would have loved to have him in bed and in her.

Well, that wasn't to be. So she took her shower, brushed her teeth and her hair and climbed into bed. She turned off the lights, rolled onto her side and then returned to her back. She sighed and then laughed softly. Sleep wasn't going to come without a little assistance tonight. Her hand slid under the covers, slipped down her body and between her legs.

With long familiarity she began to stroke herself, touching exactly where she liked to be touched. She closed her eyes as she squirmed slightly on the bed, imagining that the source of her stimulation wasn't her own fingers.

Usually Angelina fantasized about David. He was a good lover after all and she really was fond of him. Sometimes she thought about past boyfriends. After all, they weren't in any kind of official exclusive arrangement, although she saw no one else and she didn't think he did either. Sometimes her fantasy lover was just a composite of men she had known and men she just thought about.

Tonight though, memories of college long ago and a certain friend intruded. That other girl and she had never gone beyond kissing and a bit of petting but now she wondered what it might have been like had they gone further.

She tried to put those thoughts out of her mind as the pace of her fingers picked up and her body began to build. She succeeded, but no matter what image she tried to fix in her mind, another intruded. That intruder had long firm legs and blue pantyhose. In her mind Angelina could see those legs and the fingers touching them. She could see the curves of the tight bottom and when she reached the point of no return and she came all she could think of was Rory Gilmore.

(To Be Continued)

(Next: Paris' turn to flirt)