Date: Sun, 25 Jan 2015 01:21:30 -0500
From: EricAunleashed@aol.com
Subject: Erica Unleashed in High School - part 1 (TG-teen)

TG ARCHIVES;'Erica Unleashed in High School #1'{EricA}( F^B teen1 tg )[1!3]
"Erica Unleashed"

The continuing saga of young Erica Somerville, who at the beginning of the
story was a 13 year old loser boy named Eric. You really should start at the
beginning.

All the standard disclaimers apply.

Support Nifty or else these stories will go away and you'll have trouble
finding what you need.

On to the story.

------------------------
The clicking of my heels on the tile floor wasn't the only thing that made
me stand out from the unwashed masses gathering in the freshman wing of
Thomas Jefferson High. For my first day of high school -- my first day of school
ever, if you want to get technical -- I decided to make a lasting first
impression. With each step of my stiletto heeled black calf high boots, my
back-to-school outfit taunted the dress code. The black skirt I wore wasn't
overly tight, but it was plenty short. After all, I had to show off my legs and
the black stockings I wore. Though I was wearing a bra, it still allowed for
plenty of jiggle as I strutted the halls. Although the tight little black
dress I wore came up to my neck, a small keyhole which revealed practically
nothing dared the boys to get closer in hopes of catching a glance of
cleavage.
---

During that period between my breast enhancement surgery (Dr. Baker also
threw in a little extra padding in the hips and butt) and the start of school,
I remained indoors with Donna my only company. With Donna as company, why
did I need anyone else? I would have enjoyed teasing neighborhood boys (and
men) but my breasts (and other parts) were now different from when I was
relying mostly on the prosthesis and we didn't want anyone to notice the abrupt
changes. The hormones were doing their part, and the longer I gave myself
the chance to heal and get used to the changes, the better.

All that time alone with my beautiful sexy Stepmother gave us opportunities
galore to fine tune my new feminine persona. Though I didn't plan to have
any close female friends (remaining aloof from all my peers was part of the
plan) Donna made sure I understood all the issues and topics of conversation
to which I might be subjected. Before long I felt I knew all there was to
know about teen fashion and pop culture (something Eric never bothered with)
and my faux periods - which I would keep track of on a calendar - would
always be very mild - something I could lord over the other girls when they were
feeling cursed.

Donna decided sports would make up a significant part of my new life, and
once I understood her reasoning I was all for it. Eric's macho asshole father
had pushed him to participate and poor little Eric failed at every sport he
attempted. For me to excel athletically would serve a variety of purposes,
not the least of which was to further separate Erica from Eric. It would
keep me fit, enhance my coordination, and provide a forum for showing off in
public. Best of all, when that asshole Jake gets home, it's something to rub
his face in -- the contrast between his loser son and Donna's hot, awesome
daughter.

Though I couldn't practice shooting hoops indoors, there were several rooms
in which I could practice dribbling and passing the ball. It turned out
Donna had played basketball in high school and like everything else she
attempted, she made a wonderful coach. My days leading up to the start of high
school were the most fun imaginable despite all the hard work. Donna would put
me through my paces - basketball practice, dance practice, yoga, voice
lessons, kissing and petting, fashion and flirting, pop culture - like Donna, I
would be a force to be reckoned with. Oh, the feelings I could conjure up in
others by innocently placing pen to lips and tongue to pen as I contemplated
the lesson.

We also practiced the "darker arts". Dissing other girls. Putting down
losers like Eric. Manipulating teachers. And my personal favorite:
how to engage in theological discussions with the many Christian boys and
girls who would be trying to spread the gospel. After all, I was an evil
princess, wasn't I? My "success" in school would be determined by how many of
them I could corrupt and/or ruin.

I was so looking forward to starting school.

On the other hand, once I stepped out of the car, I would be on my own. All
my previous outings were with Donna nearby. Like a guardian angel (guardian
dark angel?) Donna would be there to watch over me. Ready to intervene if
there was a problem. Hand signals, text messages, phone calls, or even
physical intervention. I never got into anything requiring her to save me, but
then knowing she was there was a great confidence booster. At school, she would
be miles away and I was totally on my own.

Still, I knew I would be fine, because Donna said I would be fine. She
pointed out that she would never make me do something I wasn't ready for- and
she was right.

--

It wasn't that cell phones were banned at school -- only the USE of cell
phones. They had to be kept turned off, in a pocket or purse. My arrival on
campus would cause several boys (and a few girls, perhaps?) to begin their
high school career by breaking that particular rule. Though my intent was to
strut past them paying them no mind whatsoever -- remaining aloof -- I
couldn't help but be amused at all the little freshmen boys who thought they were
being so sly by secretly taking my picture, or even filming my walk. It
wouldn't take long before someone named Dannyboy123 posted something on Youtube
titled "sexy ass freshman" - It was only seven seconds of me from behind,
never showing my face, but it was clear I had a sexy ass and knew how to walk
to show it off. It wouldn't take long to figure out who Dannyboy123 was, but
more on that later.

I knew those freshman boys - with or without pictures - would all be
jerking off to thoughts and fantasies of me within the next few hours. It was very
empowering.

-----

Like many American high schools, the freshmen classes were (mostly)
concentrated in one area of the school, limiting somewhat the younger students'
exposure to the older ones. Freshman orientation also began two days before the
start of school proper. It was at this time we got our class schedules,
made the necessary adjustments to said schedules, took tours of the campus,
listened to boring welcome speeches, met our teachers, and began our classes
with explanations of our objectives, etc etc etc etc. There were a few older
students on campus for various reasons - office aids mostly, but of course
football practice had been going on for two weeks already.

---------

The first day we would only spend 15 minutes in each class. My classmates
chatted and giggled and exchanged stories of their summer vacations while I
continued to remain distant. I didn't need to do much to get attention. At
the beginning of the day a few boys shyly tried to say hi to me, asking where
I'd attended school in the past and so forth, but they were all so nervous
in my presence they practically pissed themselves. A couple of braver boys -
jocks no doubt - were a little more forward, and I actually found it more
enjoyable talking to them. I had a complete life history prepared, just in
case. Parts of it were true. I was just getting to the part about my travels in
Europe when it was time to break up from the assembly and go to our first
class.

First period, normally 8:00 - 8:50 -- Homeroom. This is the most coveted
time for homeroom - plenty of time to goof off, work on homework due in other
classes, flirt with boys, etc. A buffer zone between waking and having to
attend class. Since I was new to the area that meant I didn't know anyone or
my way around the school. As much as I would have loved to get to my class
early enough to get a seat in back, walking in heels and having boys trying to
talk to me didn't allow that luxury. By the time I arrived, the back half
of the room was already filled and there were precious few choices in the
front half either.

Oh well, no time like the present.

It didn't take long to pick my target. On the next to the back row, between
the jocks and the idiots stoned out of their minds sat a normal looking guy
still studying his schedule and wrestling with his backpack. I simply
walked back to him (my bouncing boobs getting all the attention they deserved)
and bent over to "whisper" in his ear (my perfectly sexy ass getting all the
attention it deserved, too.) My whisper was loud enough for a couple of the
jocks to hear. "You're sitting in my spot." The poor kid was already
mesmerized by my approach, and now he didn't know how to respond. All he got out was
an extended "uhhhhhh" when one of the football players thumped him on back
of the head and told him to move.

After all, shouldn't pretty girls get anything they want?

Mr Collins, a middle age science teacher, would usually be occupied with
preparation for the classes he would have later in the day. He didn't care
what we did so long as nobody disturbed the peace. The only peace I planned to
disturbed was that taking place inside boys trousers.

After a five minute talk about class rules, we were left alone to mix.
Sure, I wanted to chat it up with the jocks, but I was also on a mission. Find
boys to do my homework for me. I wanted to establish my seat in class, but up
front was where I expected to find what I was seeking.

Even though everyone in class had noticed me, they couldn't very well just
keep staring the whole time - especially when I was so close to the back and
their actions would be too obvious .... so most of them either began
talking with their neighbors. When I heard someone in a group of very non-athletic
boys mention "Captain Picard" I knew I was in the right place.

"Hi. Uh, do any of you guys have Science with Ms Watkins at 11:30, room
431?" Slowly, the question I asked began to work it's way past their admiring
eyes and one by one they eagerly began scanning their schedules.

"I do!" one practically shouted as if he'd won the lottery. In a way he
did.
"Cool. Well maybe we can sit together, okay? You know, I'd just rather sit
with a smart guy than some dumb jocks, ya know?"

He couldn't answer. He didn't need to. I hoped he was better at science
than he was at talking to sexy girls.

Eight minutes to go. Enough students saw what I'd just done and began
reaching for schedules, hoping to win a lottery of their own. Mr Collins was
engrossed in a book, clueless as to what I was doing.

"Well," I said softly, but loud enough for most of my new admirers to hear
as I checked my schedule again, "how about Algebra - Gunderson - 1:30?" I
could feel it more than hear it -- that collective groan that goes up when
someone shouts "bingo" and all those other players with only one spot to fill
just see their hopes dashed.

Then, one mousy little girl with way too many freckles I hadn't even
noticed before whispered meekly "I do." Our eyes meet for a second, then she
lowered hers in submission. She was sitting only two desks away, so I wound and
wiggled my way past the "also rans" and bend down to whisper in her ear.
"Would you like to sit by me in class. Maybe help me with my homework?" My
lips were oh-so-close to her lobe. She responded with a shudder, then a
little nod. "I'd like that very much" I said, no one but her able to hear. Then
I gave her ear a little lick. Poor thing, I think she wanted to cry.
Exactly the kind of girl Eric might have thought he had a chance with, but
still wouldn't ask her out for fear of rejection. I thought she'd make an
adorable pet.

Well, that took care of math and science. Subjects I wouldn't have found
too challenging, but then why should a pretty girl like me bother with such
trivial subject matter that required far more time than her social calendar
permitted? And that was that ... no need to seek out help for my other
classes. Some I didn't want help in, and if it turned out I needed someone to do
all my work for me, I was confident I could find someone at any point.

--------

9:00 - 9:50 -- That's when 2nd period would normally take place. I had
Public Speaking - This is one class in which I wanted to sit near the front,
especially when I walked in and saw the teacher. I was pretty sure Mr. Jones
was around 100 years old. He had been a newspaper editor back when newspapers
mattered. This is one teacher I could easily charm by playing sweet and
innocent, and it might be fun to actually do the work required of me in class.

It was clear Mr Jones had been a dynamo in his earlier days, just like a
newspaper editor in an old black and white movie -- ordering his reporters to
go here, go there, do this, do that, don't come back until you have the
story. In five minutes he covered fifteen minutes worth of rules and
expectations, then with ten minutes left before the bell, he informed us we would each
have one and a half minutes to stand up, introduce ourselves, and tell the
class about the most exciting thing we did on summer break. Then he pointed
directly to me and said "Go!"

"Holy shit" I thought to myself. I certainly couldn't tell the truth, and a
good story would take a little time to conjure up. Even though I had a
general history of Erica to share with the world .. something this specific ...
what could I ....

"The clock is running, Miss.....?"

"Somerville" I responded, smiling at my favorite teacher and standing to
face the class. "Erica Somerville. Without a doubt, the most exciting thing I
did this summer was to go skydiving." .... Where the fuck did that come
from? "You see, my father is a civil engineer and he spent the summer overseas
on this huge construction project." Mr Jones couldn't see, but the rest of
the class did .. when I referred to a huge construction project, I pushed my
chest out a little and made an innocent little gesture with my hands that
might have been interpreted as pointing to my breasts. The interesting thing is
that wasn't planned either. Soon my brain was engaged, and I began to tell
the class all about my adventure. I was missing my dear sweet daddy because
he'd never been away this long, so my mom wanted to give me a very special
birthday present. I remembered Eric reading a story a few months earlier
about someone's skydiving experience, and simply drew on that. And my own
natural sensuality. I told about being strapped to my cute instructor - he would
operate the parachute because I'd be too afraid. I was practically breathless
as I told them about how exhilarating it was to experience the danger, the
sensation of falling with the knowledge that parachutes sometimes fail to
function. How it changed my life .... a normally shy reserved cautious girl
throwing caution to the wind and doing the most unnatural thing in the world,
all for the thrill of it. And then I closed with the hope there would be
many more thrills like that one in my future.
I suppose that might have been interpreted as sexual innuendo.

There was a moment of silence in the room. I could see a few lips moving as
guys might say to themselves "oh fuck" or "holy shit" -- but the room was
quiet. Then Mr Jones cleared his throat and said "Next" pointing to the girl
beside me. Poor thing. Her summer wasn't nearly as exciting as mine -
especially my real one.

------

My 10:00 - 10:50 class was English 9 / World Literature. When Ms Peterson
took her first look at me, the early-40's somewhat overweight teacher let me
know with a look that she knew my game (sexy manipulative girl, not the part
where I still had a penis) and she wasn't going to put up with any of it in
her class. I knew setting her straight would be a challenge, one I didn't
want to tackle too quickly.

Given her disposition I knew she would be keeping an eye on me, so I took
an available seat instead of taking one from someone else. I ended up mid way
back, but close to the door. That could be a blessing in disguise. For some
reason, however, Ms Peterson didn't seem happy with my choice of seats, and
I didn't know why. Everyone around me seemed normal ... girls trying to
ignore me, boys sneaking peeks at every opportunity.

Soon it appeared the teachers would all be giving us the same class rules,
etc. Like it was necessary to hear it a half a dozen times?

This class was pretty boring so far. We would be doing a lot of reading.
Yeah, right. Well, a lot to some of them, but Donna had broken me of Eric's
video game and television and playing on the computer addictions, so I'm sure
I could find time to read what little would be required for this class.
After the bell rang to end class, I lingered by my desk for a while to
check out all my classmates as they exited -- and to allow them to check me out,
too.

"Bobby" the teacher called one boy up to her desk. Bobby was the totally
nondescript guy, maybe a tad pudgy, who was sitting beside me. Apparently she
knew him already even though he was just a freshman. I pretended my
attention was elsewhere as I watched her speaking softly to him, so no one else
could hear.

"Oh god, I'm in high school now, quit treating me like I'm a little kid."
Then he stormed out of the room, probably to the cafeteria.

On that, I smiled and strutted off to lunch with a spring in my step. It's
amazing what springy steps can do to large breasts.

"Hi, Bobby, right?" The lunch line had formed quickly and there was no way
I could have kept up with Bobby as he hurried out of the classroom, so I had
to wiggle my way past a pretty long line to get up to where he was
standing. Most of the boys I rubbed against didn't seem to mind. A few people said
something about "no cutting in line" but I either ignored them or said
something to the effect of "mind your own business, bitch" as the mood struck.

Bobby obviously remembered me from class. "Uhhh.. R..Robbi.. I mean..
Robert. I uh, go by Robert."

Smile. "Hi, I'm Erica.. Can I ask you a favor?" Of course I could. He
assured me he'd do whatever I wanted him to do. "I don't know anybody here, and I
just wanted to get a yogurt and I didn't wanna stand in this long line just
for that.. so could you be a sweetheart and get it for me when you go
through? I'll get us a table."

There were no tables for two, so I was quickly surrounded by nervous boys
brave enough to sit at the same table but too shy to hit on me. Of course I
saved a seat for Robert. Meanwhile, with nothing else to do but just sit
there waiting, I asked the one sitting closest if he could get me something to
drink, while I asked another if he planned to eat his dessert. He hadn't even
begun his main entree, but quickly gave up his little platter of two
chocolate chip cookies to me. I would have been satisfied with one.

"So, you already know Ms Peterson?" I took my yogurt from Robert's tray as
he was sitting, and the spoon I was surprised to see he remembered.
"Yeah, she's my aunt."

Then I snuggled against him to whisper into his ear. "You looked really
pissed off, what did she say to you?"

"uhhh.. nuthing really.. just .. you know..."

"No, I don't know." My lips brushing his earlobe, just as I'd done with
Freckles. "Tell me. It wasn't about me, was it?"

Then I backed off so he could look at me as he responded.

"uh, well, sort of.. she uh, she just said not to sit by you because you..
uh.. you know.. might be .. might distract me in class."

"Do I distract you in class?" He was blushing, giving me a pathetic little
goofy smile as he nodded. "Do you mind if I distract you?" He shook his head
no. "Then fuck her and her opinions about me, right?" That was a little
shocking to poor Robert who wasn't expecting that.. but I put my hand on his
thigh to keep him from thoughts of rebellion against my rule. He sort of
shrugged and nodded at the same time. Time to get closer, in more ways than one.
I put my luscious shiny lips to his ear again as my hand made its way up his
thigh much closer to his penis. "Let me hear you say it. Say ... 'fuck her
and her opinions.' And then I'll sit by you all you want."

If anyone told me he'd never said the word fuck out loud before, I'd
totally believe them.

"F.. f.. fu...ck.. her.. a... and her.. o-o-opinions." he whispered.
Good enough for a little reward.. a pat on the penis. "Good boy." I ate two
small bites of the yogurt I didn't offer to pay him for, told him I'd see
him around campus, then strutted off to find my next class.

------------

"Hi" I said to the girl standing at the door to Room 117 as I brushed past
her, happy to see I was the second to arrive, and promptly claimed my desk
in back of the room. I would have to save a seat for the boy who volunteered
to do my science work for me -- whatever his name ... if I heard it, I
forgot it -- I hoped he could take good notes from back of the room while the
woman of his dreams flirted with the other guys around them. Or maybe I
wouldn't save him a seat. It's not like I need to sit next to him for him to do my
work for me.

A minute later the girl who had been standing outside the classroom
entered, and when I sized her up, I realized she was no girl. This was a young
woman in her early twenties. Our teacher? Well, still some chance for fun.

"Hi, I'm Erica."

"Hello Erica" she responded in her kindergarten teacher voice. "I'm Mrs
Watkins."

"Oh my god.. you're a teacher?" Hoped I wasn't overplaying it. "You look
too young and pretty to be a teacher."

Calling her pretty in a way that couldn't be construed as inappropriate was
a good way to get on her good side - especially for someone as pretty as
me. On the other hand, saying she looks too young to be a teacher put her on
the defensive. Good. Keep her off balance.

"Well, thank you.. and I guess I'm older than I look. I've been doing this
a couple of years now."

(Yeah, student teaching I bet.) "Oh, no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply
anything... I'm just so happy you're not some old crabby teacher, ya know?
Somebody I can relate to."

Then I got out of my seat and moved from the back row to the front row. How
is she supposed to interpret that? As she got a better look at my body, she
appeared to be just a little confused. Maybe intimidated? She's the teacher
and I'm the student, but in many ways I was more woman than her. I decided
to be just a little more familiar with her than a student should be, but not
enough to make an issue of it. After an awkward attempt at conversation
with a freshman girl who was far more developed (physically and mentally) than
she was expecting, the pretty young teacher excused herself from the room,
remembering some urgent business in the teachers workroom.

Mrs Watkins' class was otherwise unremarkable, and I began to wonder if I
shouldn't have stayed in the back row. Still, a break from immature crude
boys can be a nice thing from time to time. One thing I found interesting was
how she managed to avoid eye contact with me, front row center, the entire
fifteen minutes. I wondered if she could last a full class period. When class
was over, the boy who volunteered to help me with my homework was probably
heartbroken I didn't even acknowledge his presence. Sucks to be him, I guess.

-------

My 5th period class (normally 12:30 to 1:20) was World History (the first
half) - the teacher's name was Jacobson. I might have only been 14, but I
knew how public education worked in America, and I expected a coach who knew
less about world history than many of the students he or she would be
teaching. Imagine my surprise to find a handsome young man who wasn't a coach (he
must have been related to somebody on the school board) and despite his lack
of coaching credentials, looked very athletic indeed. Did I mention he was a
hottie?

Wouldn't he be surprised to know my little penis was stirring against its
bonds. Still, I was determined to not act like every silly little freshman
girl with a crush on a teacher. Remember, my plan was to stand out by
remaining aloof. Besides, if given a choice between sex with him and sex with Donna,
he wouldn't even be a close second. Well .... maybe kinda close. But I was
already in a sexual relationship with Donna, so why would I want anything
else? Did I mention he was a hottie?

This is the class in which I chose to excel. I'd dazzle him with my vast
knowledge and love of all things historical, making every other girl in the
class seem like ... well ... a silly little girl. I would be the only girl in
class not crushing on him and making a fool of herself. If he was going to
relate to any student on an intellectual plane, that student would be yours
truly. Young, attractive, intelligent, engaging ... a real catch for any
young woman, but somehow he was still single. Gay, maybe? That could be
interesting, given my unique history. No, not gay ... I somehow knew it
instinctively. By the way he responded to all the girls questions. Yes, he could have
any young lady he wanted, and would be a real challenge for a 14 year old.
Still, he was a red blooded male, and he just might want a peek into the
keyhole, too.

One stupid girl even asked his first name. He gave it, but pointed out that
was for information purposes only, and students would call him MISTER
Jacobson. He was friendly enough about it, but wanted to make sure the students
remembered their place. Oh, and his name? Eric. An awesome coincidence and
another reason for us to feel a kinship with one another. Anyway, my chance to
stand out (intellectually -- I think I was already standing out physically)
came when Mr. Jacobson was telling us we each had to do a report on an
ancient civilization at some point in the semester. He was even kind enough to
mention some ancient civilizations for the clueless -- the Egyptians, the
Greeks, the Romans. That's when I raised my hand for the first time that day.

"Would it be alright if I did something on the Minoans? I know they're
pretty obscure, but I've been interested in Minoan culture ever since I spent a
couple of weeks in Rhodes last Summer." I wasn't really fascinated by the
Minoans, but it was important to establish I knew of them before I had a
chance to look up something online and only pretend I'd heard of them in some
pathetic attempt to impress a teacher I was crushing on. Of course I've never
been to the island of Rhodes, but Eric read something about it years ago.
There was something about a legend of a big bull with a big penis, I thought,
and it would be fun to work it into the lecture. Meanwhile, if Eric Jacobson
was going to fall in love with a student, it was only logical that student
would be me.

"The Minoans ... uh ... would be fine." I wondered if he'd ever heard of
them. "Any ancient civilization, so long as there's some evidence they
actually existed.. which in your case .. uhhhhh" That trailing off meant he was
wanting to know what to call me.

"Erica" I said, giving him a little wink to let him know we were sharing
something the rest of the class didn't have, then immediately broke eye
contact and began writing in my notebook.

"Yes, any ancient civilization that actually existed, and try not to make
it sound too much like a Wikipedia article. But more about that later .. for
tomorrow, I want everyone to read pages..... " I wondered if he was looking
at the keyhole, wondering what marvels lay inside. I didn't dare look up.
That might imply I was like all the others.

---------

If my life at the time was a movie set in high school, it wouldn't be
complete without a strange-looking eccentric teacher. I met him during my 6th
period Algebra class -- Herman Gunderson. He was well over 6 feet tall, and
maybe weighed 150 pounds. His face, by itself, might look average, but on that
body, and with that unruly hair, he looked like an alien from another world
come to study our culture but having problems blending in. His alien
disguise was made even more absurd by the lime green bow tie he wore - the one with
the purple dots. A fucking bow tie? Seriously?

He almost finished his five minute lecture (the one he'd already given five
times that day) in the fifteen minutes allotted. He seemed to feel
compelled to stop and explain everything that might be unclear, which would then
lead to his talking about something else, and so on. This would be an
interesting class, and not in a good way. I hoped freckles knew her shit. At one
point I winked at her during class, and I thought she was about to freak out on
me. Better to take it easy on her at first. I thought it might not be a bad
idea to actually study Algebra to be on the safe side. All the boys in class
looked more confused than usual.

----

Finally -- last class of the day. P.E. Not enough time to do any physical
activity on day one. Because I had signed up to try out for the basketball
team (and because my falsified transcript showed I played basketball in middle
school) I was put into a class with other aspiring freshman athletes ...
segregated by gender. The "teacher" was Coach McCarthy, a male, who had
probably played college football. Since then, he'd been putting on a bit of fat on
top of the still-massive muscles.

There had been some controversy over too many varsity football coaches, and
something about female coaches having a bigger workload, so he was elected
to coach freshman girl's basketball this year in addition to assisting with
the freshman boys football team. Since I was going out for basketball, I was
put into his PE class. If I didn't make the team I'd still have PE the same
period, but would be doing it with a bunch of non-athletic losers who
weren't on any team.

He didn't bother with the five minute lecture everyone else had done
several times already. Instead, he talked to us like he would talk to a bunch of
macho asshole males, about giving it 100 percent and that bullshit. He
reminded me way too much of Jacob, Donna's husband... Eric's asshole dad. I hoped
that would change soon. Still, there would be no charming him, no appealing
to his protective side, certainly no seduction attempts. The only way I
would get by in this class was to... well, give 100 percent. Okay, I guessed I
could live with that.

Coach McCarthy didn't mention if he'd ever coached (or even played)
basketball, but he did teach history.

---------

By the end of the school day I was exhausted. My legs were killing me, and
I was sorely tempted to make the decision to ditch the heels every day in
favor of comfortable sneakers. I knew I wouldn't do it, though. It wasn't in
Erica's character to do so. I had established who Erica was - what she was -
and I wasn't going to turn back. The heels, the stockings, sexy dresses or
skirts instead of baggy jeans and baggier shirts. Otherwise, Erica would
cease to be Erica, and there was no way I could let that happen. Tomorrow Erica
would be as much a sexy manipulative cocktease as she was today. Maybe
sexier.

On the ride home I made sure to inform her of all the little life's events
I made up, in case she was ever asked. My daddy a civil engineer instead of
just some dumb muscle bound asshole who lucked into owning a little
construction business ... my European trip, including the isle of Rhodes ... my
skydiving birthday present. Donna was wonderful, helping me fill in the blanks.
There was an American navy base on Rhodes, and I could have a cousin there
who invited me to stay for a couple of weeks. Donna is the best mom a girl
like me could ever have.

We also talked about Mr. Jacobson. It felt so natural, talking to my bestie
(who was also my sexy stepmom) about a guy on whom I had a major crush. She
was totally understanding, not jealous at all. She also pointed out that I
could totally seduce him if I wanted (she might have just been trying to
build my confidence even more) BUT, she said, these things always have a habit
of becoming public -- then where would we be? A girl who didn't exist until
a few weeks ago, thrust into the spotlight. Nothing good could come of that,
especially if we wanted to keep my little secret a secret.

I think my disappointment having to face the truth affected me more than it
should have. After all he was an adult and me a young teen .. and I'd only
met him a few hours ago. Still, there seemed to be such an attraction --
such a connection. And Donna -- god, how I love her -- was totally
understanding.
"You should seduce him then" I told her. "You'd really like him. I can
totally help you hook up with him if you want."

"You wouldn't be jealous?"

"Only a little.. but I love you and want you to be happy.. and I think
you'd be happy with him."

Donna made an unexpected stop in a parking lot and turned to stroke my
cheek. "That's the most beautiful thing I could imagine you saying. I love you
so much."

I nodded, whispering "love you too" .. then we kissed and she held my head
on her shoulder for a few minutes while I cried softly for no apparent
reason other than I was growing up. After a few minutes of just feeling close to
her, I took in a deep breath then added -- "besides, you can always tie him
up and blindfold him so I can have my way with him."

Tomorrow would be another day.. but my only thoughts at the moment were how
much I'd love to get out of those boots and soak in a nice hot bath. I knew
that by then more than one little freshman boy had made it home and was
hiding out in bedroom or bathroom stroking his little penis because of me. He
might even be looking at my picture. I'd make sure that the next day's photo
opportunities were as entertaining as the first day's adventures. Surely,
I'll be in their hearts forever.