The Prophesied Claim

The Next Morning

The next morning, I still couldn't believe what I had done, or with whom. After our rendezvous the afternoon before, he'd calmly taken my statement about the events of that morning, fastened his duty belt, and become a stranger yet again. It was like the explosive climax we'd both shared had never happened. I felt awkward and scared. I'd just seduced a police officer, and had no idea what that meant. Would he tell someone about it? Would I get into trouble? I was the absolute epitome of a professional. Never a word said wrong. Never a hair out of place. While I was setting up my classroom the next morning, I felt the fear of what might happen nearly overwhelming me. The principal knocked on my door ten minutes before the bell for first period was set to ring.

"Madison, I need you to come by my office during your lunch period today. Something was reported to me we need to discuss," his stance in the door frame was not encouraging. His muscled torso was leaning slightly against the frame, but his stance was belligerent.

Not one to react well to the unknown, I felt panic begin to close off my throat, and sweat begin to bead on my forehead, "Sir? What's happened?"

He waved a hand at me and continued down the hall, "Don't forget. Lunch. Today, Madison."

Whereas yesterday I couldn't stop sweating from arousal, the remembered ache would have been welcome compared to the panic that simmered in the background during my morning classes. When the bell rang for my lunch period, I tried to calmly collect a notebook and pen, hoping the appearance of concern and notetaking readiness would calm whatever storm was about to happen.

My fears were only intensified when I entered the main office. The older secretary, usually so nice, was giving me a shitty look, and the counselors were no better. They seemed to whisper as I passed their offices. How much was actually about me, and what I imagined, I have no idea. I just know I was sweating through my clothes, was sure my hair was standing on end, and felt like passing out.

I knocked on Principal Smith's door, tried to quiet a dry heave, turned the knob, and promptly caught my foot in the carpet. Apparently all those ballet lessons were worthless because I landed in a tangled heap in front of Mr. Smith's desk.

Right at the feet of yesterday's security guard. Who looked none too happy to see me again. Well, s**t.

"Madison. Good, you remembered. Have a seat so we can discuss this disturbing bit of business Officer Garrett has brought to my attention. I don't think you'll be needing representation for this one" He gestured to the high-backed chair in front of his desk, completely ignoring my current floor sprawled position.

That was ballsy of him. Assuming I didn't want representation. f**k. Of course I didn't want representation. I didn't want anyone to know what I did. I still didn't know what I did.

I did know I was in trouble, rightly so, but wasn't sure why Principal Smith was behaving so calmly about the entire situation. If I'd just been told a seemingly respectable teacher had f****d the brains out of the security on a series of bean bags in her classroom, I'd probably go through the roof with outrage. But, since I'd just experienced such a situation myself, I might be a bit more understanding if that ever did occur. Gathering whatever dignity I had left, I tried to appear composed as I seated myself next to "Officer Garrett".

Officer Garrett gave no hint as to the gravity of the situation, he just looked at me through half-closed eyes, as though assessing me and finding me lacking. That look made me feel both damp, and ticked. It wasn't like he hadn't gotten off too, so if this situation went downhill, I'd be more than happy to put that happy fact on the table. That might be helpful in avoiding assault charges. I'd already noticed an interesting set of fingerprint bruises on my hips that morning. Maybe I should be dusted for evidence. Seeing my bemused expression, his mouth twitched up at the corner, and a smirk crossed his face before he turned back to Principal Smith.

"So, like I was saying John, your teachers need more experience in non-violent conflict resolution practices. I'm surprised you don't have anyone certified for this type of intervention. Quite frankly, what happened to Madison yesterday could've been a much more serious situation."

I felt as though I'd fallen into the twilight zone. Conflict resolution practices? What the f**k was he talking about? More professional development? With me as the reason. Hell, no. That'd go down like a pay cut with the rest of the staff. But Principal Smith looked apologetic as he waved his hands about the air.

"I know. I've said the same thing time and again. One of these days a nice little lady like Miss Madison is going to get hurt, and we'll have no one to blame but ourselves. I just hadn't realized you could train our staff for this type of thing."

I stared at Principal Smith, stuck on the "nice little lady" bit. Feeling even more confused.

Officer Garrett nodded, "Absolutely. If we take a bit of time each day, maybe during her prep period or after school, she should be able to implement the strategies in a few weeks. Possibly even head a group to train the others. It'd definitely be a better situation than yesterday."

"That's an excellent idea," Principal Smith turned to me, though I was still oblivious to what exactly was happening, still waiting to be fired for seduction during working hours, "Madison? What do you think? Are you willing to work this out with Officer Garrett, be the lead in this kind of team?"

I decided agreement would be the best way to deal with having no idea what the f**k was happening, "I'd be delighted, sir. If Officer Garrett is agreeable, I'm sure we can work something out."

"Excellent. That's settled then, I don't want to take up any more of your lunch period."

With that Principal Smith dismissed me, and I stood to leave. Still confused, not quite sure what I'd agreed to, but relieved I still had a job, I went through the front office in a kind of daze. Just as I was turning to the staircase, I heard footsteps behind me, and there he was, Officer Garrett in all his sexually attractive glory, enough to melt me into a puddle of arousal on the stairs. I strongly considered running for the stairs.

"Hey," was all he said, gripping my elbow and assisting me in a strange dance up the steps to my classroom. I was distracted by the touch of his callused fingers on my elbow, and found myself looking at him warily from the corners of my eyes.

"Stop that," he whispered as we passed a gaggle of sixth graders rushing toward the lunch room, "or they'll think I'm arresting you."

"What exactly is going on?" I demanded keying open my classroom door.

I didn't really expect an answer, but he followed me inside, closing the heavy wooden door firmly behind him. The lock clicked satisfactorily in place, and I found myself backing away from him as he stalked toward me from the door.

When I'd backed myself into the chalkboard at the back of the room, he stopped moving. His chest was mere inches from own. His hand snaked out and ran a finger down my cheek, brushing the tendrils of hair that had come loose from my top knot out of my face. He kissed me lightly, and I felt the same buzzing sound in my head as I had the afternoon before.

I felt my knees weaken as he searched my eyes, nudging my nose with his as his lips descended a second time. There were definitely fireworks shooting off behind my closed lids as I inhaled his cologne, and felt his tongue thrust itself into my mouth. I moaned softly, wrapping my arms around his waist to pull him closer.

Then, he stopped. Pushing away from me, he held his arms on either side of my body, hands flat on the chalkboard and just looked at me.

Then he pointed, "This is what's going on," he said gesturing downward where his black uniform pants were strained at the zipper, "I don't know what magic you've got hidden inside you, but this just keeps happening, and I can't seem to get you out of my head."

I couldn't make a sound, my mouth my have formed an "O" but nothing accompanied the shape, just a puff of air.

He humphed grumpily at my expression, "So, I just made you the first non-violent conflict resolution expert. I figure if we spend some time together..." His voice trailed off.

My brows drew together, wait a second, was he trying to say, "Seriously? You think you'll stop being attracted to me if you spend time with me? You think you can just forget what happened yesterday, and go on about your merry way?"

He rubbed a hand through his short hair, "Not necessarily. What happened yesterday...it can't happen again. I'm a professional."

"And I'm not? Is that what you're saying? You think I do that with every Tom, d**k, and Harry that walks in the door? Maybe I f**k every daddy that stops by for a conference? Put my job on the line? You think I seduced you because I'm some kind of super slut with magic powers of f*****g?" I knew I was on a roll, maybe being slightly ridiculous in my accusations, especially because I had wanted to seduce him on first sight, but I didn't want him to think he was completely blameless in the situation.

He glanced at the pile of bean bags in the corner, and the same smirk he'd had on his face in Smith's office crooked his mouth. "Possibly not. Probably not. f**k, I don't even know you."

I laughed, "Yep. That's right. You don't know me. Yet, you willingly f****d me on a bean bag yesterday, and apparently that's making you a little screwed in the head. So, if it's such a problem for you, forget it happened. I'll pretend I've never seen you before in my entire life. I don't even know your name, so easy peasy."

Slowly, he shook his head, "I don't think that's going to work."

"Then what do you want to do?"

His eyes wandered to the pile of bean bags again, and I frantically shook my head,"Lunch ends in five minutes."

"s**t. What the f**k is happening to me?" He swiped a hand down his face, levering away from the wall to stalk to the door, but he paused with a hand on the knob. I saw his chest rise with the deep breath he took, "You have a hickey on the back of your neck. Might wanna do something about it."

With that, he stalked out of the room. I wandered to my desk, and sat down hard in the rolling chair behind it. Yet again, a day of lust and confusion. Did I want to f**k his brains out? Absolutely. Did I find him sexually appealing in the most basic sense? Definitely. But, his attitude about the entire situation was ridiculous. I didn't feel at fault for being attracted to him, nor did I specifically blame him for turning me into a b***h in heat.

However, I did find his aversion to his attraction to me slightly, if not entirely, offensive. I also had a sneaking suspicion he planned to avoid physical contact to prevent any more "unprofessional" situations. It was my turn to smirk a little. If he thought I'd just let that challenge go unanswered, he was dead wrong. Clearly, we both wanted more of what had happened the day before, and I wasn't about to let him waste whatever was happening between us. For once, I planned to meet it head on.

I hastily dug around my purse for a scarf to tie around my neck, came up empty and opted for a zip up sweater of questionable origins I found stuffed in a bottom drawer.

By seventh period I had started to formulate a plan, Officer Garrett could play his little game of learning to dislike me. I'd counter that decision with my own scheme of "accidental" seduction this time. I wasn't necessarily well-versed in such practices, but I'd definitely taken pole dancing as my fitness option in college. I figured with a little effort on my part, I could rock his control to the breaking point. I'm not quite sure what my end goal was, or how I thought I'd implement pole dancing skills into the situation, but it included his d**k in my mouth a lot more often.

So, when the last student had left my classroom after sixth period, I quickly rolled my panties from under my conservative striped skirt and hid them in my purse. I had dressed in a hurry that morning, still in a weird tizzy about the events of the afternoon before, and had forgotten the side slit of my striped skirt actually buttoned down. I undid snaps until the side slit was slightly less than conservative, then sat in my chair, crossing and uncrossing my legs to see the effect. I'd watched enough movies with chair, lack of panty, skirt seductions to feel I had a good chance with such a trick.