Under Mr Nolan's bed

So is your dad, I thought-but I didn’t say anything. I felt a slight twinge of guilt, but what I felt most was excitement. I couldn’t wait for Mr. Nolan to explore the new terrain between my legs.

Chapter Nine

“It’s Friday night, do you girls want to go to a movie?” Mr. Nolan asked, popped his head around the door. I took my headphones off, hitting “stop” on my CD player.

“What movie?” Erica asked cautiously. “This isn’t going to be another

‘ Mimic’ is it? You always pick sucky movies.”

“You choose, then.” He laughed.

“Bobby said American Beauty was awesome.” Erica was talking to me but then looked back at her father. “Popcorn and M amp;Ms, too?”

“Anything you want, doll.” He leaned against the doorframe and slipped his hand into his trouser pocket. “We’re celebrating.” Erica raised an eyebrow. “Really? Did you get a raise? Can I have a car?”

“We’re celebrating the end of tax season.” He snorted. “And no, you can’t have a car, but if you’re really good, I’ll let you drive to the movies.” Erica squealed, jumping off the bed and starting to shut her door.

“Hey!” Mr. Nolan stopped the door with his hand.

“Dad, we have to get dressed,” she explained, rolling her eyes over to me.

“Some privacy, please!”

“You look fine.” His eyes swept over me as I sat on the floor, my knees up and a little open. I knew my panties were showing under my uniform skirt and I smiled at him over Erica’s shoulder as I opened my legs wider. I was rewarded with a dark, wolfish look of lust.

Erica rolled her eyes. “With both of us around all the time-have you learned nothing about teenage girls?”

“Hurry up, okay?” He sighed, looking at his watch. “I’ll call and find out show times. American Beauty?”

“Yes.” She pushed him out with the door. “Now, shoo!” We spent the next hour trying on outfits and doing our hair and make-up in the bathroom. Erica decided on low-rise jeans and a pink crop-top that showed off her navel. I went with a skirt, because instead of knee socks and Mary Janes, I could wear heels and show off my long, slender legs. We shared clothes constantly-half my clothes were already in Erica’s closet and vice versa.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t wear a bra?” I frowned at my nipples standing up under the black material of the spaghetti strap t-shirt I was wearing.

“You can’t wear a bra with that.” Erica didn’t even look away from the mirror where she was putting on mascara. Her blonde lashes turned magically dark.

“It’s kind of sexy.” I turned sideways in the mirror and smoothed the shiny brown skirt over my thighs. It had a soft, black paisley pattern on it, and the hem barely came to mid-thigh. With the strappy black heels, my legs looked even longer and I stood almost a head taller than Erica in her flat, black suede boots.

“It’ll make my dad blush.” She grinned, snapping her mascara closed and tossing it into her purse. “Are you ready?”

She was right-except that the heat in his face looked more like lust than embarrassment to me when we came down the stairs. Walking in heels always made me feel sexy, and I was wearing a pair of black sheer panties under my skirt, the crotch already damp and molding to the smooth flesh of my pussy lips.

He was standing at the bottom of the stairs, calling for us, when we started down, and his voice just stopped, mid-sentence, as he stared up at us. I wondered if maybe he could see under my short skirt, the way his eyes were focused there, between my legs. I was glad I was behind Erica so she couldn’t quite tell what he was looking at.

“You two finally ready?” He cleared his throat and pulled his keys out of his jeans pocket. I was thrilled to see that he was dressed similarly to that night when he went out with Jennifer, and when I got close, I could smell his cologne.

“Wasn’t it worth the wait?” Erica pouted, holding her arms out and cocking her hip to one side.

He smiled, leaning over and kissing her cheek. “You betcha.” He slid an arm around my waist as we started for the door. “I’ll have the two prettiest girls in the theater on my arm.”

Erica went out first, and Mr. Nolan’s hand slipped down my waist, over the swell of my ass, and squeezed. I glanced up at him and smiled, my heart racing.

His eyes had that same hunger in them when he looked at me, like he wanted to just eat me up.

“Keys!” Erica demanded, standing by the driver’s side door. He gave them over, reluctantly. I got into the back seat, sitting behind Erica, and Mr. Nolan got into the passenger’s side.

“Seatbelt,” I reminded, pulling mine across. “She’s likely to kill us on the way there.”

“Hey!” Erica protested, starting the car and putting it into gear. The car lurched forward toward the house when she pressed on the gas.

“Reverse, Erica.” Mr. Nolan winced.