The School Takeover Changed Everything Between Us

It was Monday and the weekend was still weighing on my body. I got to school at noon, coffee in hand, sunglasses on, and my smile saved for a better occasion. Like every Monday.

First period: my favorite student’s class. I crossed the room to my desk, felt the usual eyes on my ass, but one was different. Heavier. I’m intuitive; I’ve read tarot since I was twenty, and I recognize an energy when it hits me. I set down my cup, hung my bag on the back of the chair, and looked up.

Lucía was watching me openly from the back. The same girl who had come with me to the concert the Saturday before and had ended up sleeping on my living-room couch. I smiled at her, returned the energy, and started class as if nothing were happening.

I decided, out of pure whim, to call her to the board.

—Lucía, tell me what you memorized, like I asked. Look me in the eyes and do it.

The room fell into a strange silence, the kind you feel at the nape of your neck. Nobody expected that request, and even less what came next. Lucía stood in front of the class, took a deep breath, and recited an entire poem by Idea Vilariño. Every word was a stone dropping into still water. She didn’t look at her classmates: she looked at me the whole time, with that fixed stare that forces you either to hold her gaze or walk out of the classroom.

I leaned back against the desk chair, my right arm crossed under my breasts. That involuntary gesture that lifts them and makes them seem fuller. My left hand, without me ordering it to, began stroking my thigh over my pants. In time with the poem, my fingers slid down to my center. The fabric of my tight jeans ground into my already sticky lips. I squeezed just a little. Discreetly, I think.

I wasn’t that discreet.

Lucía faltered for a second in the middle of a verse. She didn’t look away. She saw me biting my lower lip, saw my glazed eyes, saw the tiny movement of my hand. And then, almost without thinking, she rubbed herself too over her pants. It was a quick touch, as if she wanted to confirm that her body was responding. She clenched her thighs, hid it by crossing one leg. She finished the last verse just in time, before I had to invent an excuse to leave the room.

—Applause, kids. Your classmate understood the assignment perfectly. Lucía, congratulations. You can sit down whenever you want.

She sat. The class applauded. I breathed.

When the bell rang, I waited for the group to leave before I closed the door. But she stayed.

—Mariela...

—Lu, what you did was beautiful. Thank you.

—I chose it for you. I wanted you to see that you matter to me.

—Mission accomplished. I gave you a ten in the gradebook.

—I need something else. I want you to back me up with the administration.

I raised an eyebrow. I knew that face.

—We’re going to take over the school —she said.

—And what does that have to do with me?

—You’re my advisory teacher. You have to go defend the student council’s proposal.

—You go. You’re the president.

—I need you. I’ve got everything written out: the demands, the length of the occupation, the arguments. I’ll give you a copy. Friday’s a holiday, so we’d occupy it from Thursday through Monday.

I looked at her with that mix of annoyance and tenderness she was the only one who ever triggered in me.

—I’ll read it at home with a glass of wine. If it’s in order, tomorrow we’ll talk to the vice principal.

—I love you. Thank you.

The next day we spoke with the vice principal and then with the headmistress. When the woman started throwing up obstacles, I stepped in.

—I’ll be present, ma’am. I’m the teacher responsible for the class making the demand. I will take responsibility for the integrity of the building and the students. If you agree to that commitment, I see no reason to deny the request and create a bigger conflict.

We left with the signed permission.

—You’ve got the biggest balls in the world —Lucía told me in the hallway, giving me a quick hug—. You’re my favorite woman.

I laughed. I gently pushed her away.

—Go to class, President.

***

On Thursday I packed a bag with clothes, a sleeping bag, and some marijuana, because the night was going to be long. I arrived at school late in the afternoon. The front of the building was covered in banners, and so were the hallways. The kids had done a good job.

I went looking for the student council president. I found her in the bathroom area, kissing her girlfriend against the back wall. A new girl, blonde, whom I’d seen a couple of times when classes let out. I stood still for two seconds. Lucía caught me in the mirror out of the corner of her eye just before I turned and left.

I went into the first empty classroom on the first floor, left the bag on the desk, and stepped back into the hallway. I leaned on the inside railing and looked out over the courtyard. The kids were listening to music, talking. I went downstairs and stayed with them for a long while. They ordered pizza; I bought them soda. Lucía never showed up. I didn’t ask.

Close to midnight I went back upstairs to the classroom to change. I was taking off my T-shirt — the fabric was over my face, my bra fully exposed — when I heard the door open behind me.

—It’s me. Relax.

I pulled my shirt free in one yank. She was already a step away, her open hand on my stomach. I brushed her hand aside. I took off my bra with my back to her, put on my long sleep shirt, the one that covered me halfway down my thigh and hid the shorts.

—What are you doing here? Go be with the others.

—I want to be with you.

—I saw you when I arrived. You were busy.

—Then I couldn’t find you anymore.

—Looking for me, like you just were. Still, I spent two hours in the courtyard. I ate pizza with everyone. You never showed up.

—Sorry. Forgive me, seriously. I couldn’t.

—Lu, don’t apologize to me. Get out of the classroom. I swear I’ll sleep fine on my own.

I walked to the door to open it. She closed it before I could. She slid the lock, grabbed me by the waist, and kissed me.

The kiss was long. She backed me three steps to the wall. She was almost a head shorter than me and had a physical strength I hadn’t known about until then. We stayed there for two minutes without separating. When I came to my senses, I pulled her face away.

—Enough, Lu. Go.

—I want to spend the night with you.

—You were with your girlfriend a while ago. Now you come up here and want to treat me like I’m your free time. No.

—You didn’t mind on Saturday.

—Saturday was something else. It was different.

—You’re crazy about me. Admit it.

I looked at her with real anger. She didn’t care. She pulled off her T-shirt and jean shorts in one motion. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She took off her boxer briefs too, with the casualness of someone who did that every day in front of me.

—Come here.

She started walking toward my sleeping bag, down the aisle between the desks, the way I walked when I entered the classroom. I watched her ass, her long trained legs, that round white ass that showed in every step. I didn’t resist. I moved behind her, taking off my shirt as I went. The T-shirt fell onto a bench. The shorts, two desks later. My panties ended up somewhere along the way.

When I got to the sleeping bag, two naked women were facing each other in the dark classroom. She held out her hands. I interlaced my fingers with hers. Our noses touched. We both smiled.

—Sorry —she repeated—. I want to be here.

—And your girlfriend?

—At her place. I told her to go, to bring me the charger tomorrow.

—You’ve got her under control.

—Nothing happened like you thought. I fingered her for a while so she’d leave happy. I wanted to be here. I swear it.

I turned my face and kissed her. I needed to feel her lips. It was an intense kiss, with an energy you could almost touch in the air. Something had been decided during the conversation without either of us saying it out loud.

I let go of her hands. I took her face in my hands to kiss her better. She kneaded my breasts. She grabbed my waist; we crouched together, and she lowered me onto the sleeping bag.

She kissed my feet first. The sole, the toes, the instep. She moved up to my ankle, then my leg, all the way to the knee. She switched legs and repeated the sequence. I spread my thighs without thinking, instinctively. When she reached my cunt, she stole my attention with a feint she didn’t follow through on. She moved up. Ran her tongue over my stomach. Reached my breasts. She pressed them against her face, made circles around my nipples with her tongue, sucked them like she was thirsty, left strings of saliva behind. I stole the gasps she drew out of me carefully, because someone could come up to the first floor at any moment.

She licked my neck. She licked my ear.

—What if I leave? —she whispered.

—First, you’ll never pass my class in your life. Second, tomorrow I’m taking your girlfriend away until she’d rather be in my bed.

—Bitch. How much your quick mind turns me on.

She bit my neck. She bit one breast. Then she lay on her stomach between my legs, wrapped her arms around my thighs, and started on my pussy with a long, complete lick, from one end to the other. She bit her lip. She looked at me. She smiled. And she went on with short flicks of her tongue over my clit, like a kitten drinking water from a plate. I squeezed my eyes shut. Arched my back. Clutched my breasts so I wouldn’t scream.

Her mouth clamped onto my entire sex like a suction cup. Her tongue went in and out. It traced the slit again and again, started at the opening and climbed until it hit my clit. I had to breathe through my nose to stay quiet. I lifted my hips. She settled in better, rested my thighs on her shoulders, and from there she could alternate between my pussy and my ass. Her tongue went into both sides of me, fast, like an arrow. The first orgasm caught me by surprise: short, deep, with that contraction that makes you clamp your legs around the other body’s head.

She came up to kiss my neck. She slid two fingers into me. Her palm brushed my pubic mound every time she went in. She knew exactly where to touch. She found the exact spot and stayed there, playing with it, handling it to her liking. She started pressing my clit with her palm on each thrust. When I was close to my second orgasm, she decided to hold it off. She looked at me, smiled, knelt between my legs. She lifted them, stretched them against her shoulders, made me grab my ankles. She climbed on top with her legs bent, one on each side of my body. She pressed her sex against mine.

She started slowly. A deep friction, pressing. Then she picked up the pace. The pressure climbed too. Then she bounced like a filly, cunt slapping against cunt, both of us completely soaked, both of us panting with our mouths half closed so we wouldn’t wake up the school. She gave me a break when she let go of my legs, which were already burning. She adjusted into a scissors position, wrapped herself around my right thigh, and kept grinding against me. Harder. Faster. My clit ached, but I didn’t want her to stop. She didn’t stop. She had an orgasm on top of me and I felt her fluids splashing back against my pelvis. I came right after, in a chain reaction. The sleeping bag was visibly stained.

She collapsed on top of my body. We kissed through our gasps. I stroked her back, her hair, her arms. She stroked my ass with an open palm.

—Lu —I told her softly, in her ear—. I never thanked you for the poem.

—It was for you. You don’t have to thank me. I searched for it everywhere, read entire books until I found the one that worked.

—Why do you go to all this trouble?

—Because I know this is frowned on and I don’t care. I’m a lesbian, and between us age is just a number. You’re not a lesbian, but something happens to you with me. You tried it and came back for more. If you’re having a good time, I can be your partner until you never want to see me again. Nobody will know. I’m not going to tell anyone.

—Your head turns me on more than your body. And that’s saying something.

She smiled against my neck. This kid is going to ruin my life and I’m going to let her.

We climbed into the sleeping bag, both naked and filthy. We smelled like sex, saliva, sweat. We kissed ourselves into sleep with our feet tangled together.

Outside, the school stayed awake. But that classroom, that night, was ours.