little bites that had her shuddering against him. Just a little bit more and she would be there, bursting with pleasure like an over-ripe peach.
Arching back, she sighed and rolled her hips into him in a move that had him stumbling as his cock jerked between her legs. A cold sensation brushed against her just before the door to the practice room banged open and a high-pitched female voice yelled, “Carmella, what the hell are you doing?”
A bucket of icy sewage couldn't have had more of an effect on her than that voice. Dropping her legs from around Sean's waist, she stared in horror at the sight of Dianta and three of her pet instructors glaring at her from the doorway. Dianta wore a bright pink mini-skirt coupled with an almost transparent white top. It was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra beneath.
“I—” The words choked off in her throat as shame and humiliation came crashing down on her soul, killing her joy and desire.
“How dare you act in such a manner at my school?” Dianta said in disgust. “Sean, I'm so sorry she threw herself at you like this.”
Sean pushed her behind him so he stood between her and Dianta. “She didn't throw herself at me. I—”
“Your father would have been ashamed to see you acting like this,” one of Dianta's pet instructors said in Portuguese so Sean wouldn't understand. “Acting like a whore where anyone could walk in on you. I'm glad it was us and not some of our innocent young students that had to see you grinding yourself on him like slut. He looks so humiliated to have been caught with you.”
Shame slammed into Carmella, and she pushed away from Sean. She couldn't look at his face, couldn't see the embarrassment there. They were right; she was acting like a woman with no morals. He must think she did this with everyone. She dodged his hand and slunk past him. The coldness that accompanied Dianta's arrival crushed the warmth that he had given her, ate it up and left her shivering. She was no one, nothing, and would never be good enough for Sean.
His yells to come back fell on deaf ears, and she ran down the hallway with tears streaming down her face.
****
Working under the harsh glare of the florescent lights, Carmella stood back from the dress dummy and evaluated the headdress of the Snow Queen costume. Small white feathers fastened to a glittering white cap that would be secured to the head with bobby pins. Most of the glitter and the neon blue rhinestones were glued on the cap itself. A carefully spread series of plumes made the crown of the piece.
The headdress had to be worn for hours at a time. If it was too heavy, it could injure the wearer. Not that she would mind if Dianta's head popped off, but it might scare the children. Her lips curved in a humorless grin as she glued another rhinestone to the base of a feather.
It was a wonder she’d gotten any work done. Over and over her mind replayed her time with Sean as she tried to resolve what she was feeling. One moment she would be filled with a bright joy that made her glow with happiness, and the next, cold ice would kill off the warm happiness and leave her bleak and shivering. It felt as if her mind was at war against itself, and her body paid the price. She ached deep in her bones, and her heart actually hurt.
Every time she thought of Sean, a vicious headache would begin behind her eyes, and she would have to sit and breathe until it passed. As long as she didn't think about him and all of the carnal pleasures that she wanted to sample with him, her head was fine. But one thought about the strength of his shoulders or the way his hair had felt beneath her fingers had that sharp agony back with a vengeance. She was so confused and tired of being cold.
Different ways to sabotage Dianta's costume seemed to be the only thing she could safely consider. Not that she actually would—she was too big of a believer in karma—but it was nice to imagine the peroxide blonde falling off the float and
Arching back, she sighed and rolled her hips into him in a move that had him stumbling as his cock jerked between her legs. A cold sensation brushed against her just before the door to the practice room banged open and a high-pitched female voice yelled, “Carmella, what the hell are you doing?”
A bucket of icy sewage couldn't have had more of an effect on her than that voice. Dropping her legs from around Sean's waist, she stared in horror at the sight of Dianta and three of her pet instructors glaring at her from the doorway. Dianta wore a bright pink mini-skirt coupled with an almost transparent white top. It was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra beneath.
“I—” The words choked off in her throat as shame and humiliation came crashing down on her soul, killing her joy and desire.
“How dare you act in such a manner at my school?” Dianta said in disgust. “Sean, I'm so sorry she threw herself at you like this.”
Sean pushed her behind him so he stood between her and Dianta. “She didn't throw herself at me. I—”
“Your father would have been ashamed to see you acting like this,” one of Dianta's pet instructors said in Portuguese so Sean wouldn't understand. “Acting like a whore where anyone could walk in on you. I'm glad it was us and not some of our innocent young students that had to see you grinding yourself on him like slut. He looks so humiliated to have been caught with you.”
Shame slammed into Carmella, and she pushed away from Sean. She couldn't look at his face, couldn't see the embarrassment there. They were right; she was acting like a woman with no morals. He must think she did this with everyone. She dodged his hand and slunk past him. The coldness that accompanied Dianta's arrival crushed the warmth that he had given her, ate it up and left her shivering. She was no one, nothing, and would never be good enough for Sean.
His yells to come back fell on deaf ears, and she ran down the hallway with tears streaming down her face.
****
Working under the harsh glare of the florescent lights, Carmella stood back from the dress dummy and evaluated the headdress of the Snow Queen costume. Small white feathers fastened to a glittering white cap that would be secured to the head with bobby pins. Most of the glitter and the neon blue rhinestones were glued on the cap itself. A carefully spread series of plumes made the crown of the piece.
The headdress had to be worn for hours at a time. If it was too heavy, it could injure the wearer. Not that she would mind if Dianta's head popped off, but it might scare the children. Her lips curved in a humorless grin as she glued another rhinestone to the base of a feather.
It was a wonder she’d gotten any work done. Over and over her mind replayed her time with Sean as she tried to resolve what she was feeling. One moment she would be filled with a bright joy that made her glow with happiness, and the next, cold ice would kill off the warm happiness and leave her bleak and shivering. It felt as if her mind was at war against itself, and her body paid the price. She ached deep in her bones, and her heart actually hurt.
Every time she thought of Sean, a vicious headache would begin behind her eyes, and she would have to sit and breathe until it passed. As long as she didn't think about him and all of the carnal pleasures that she wanted to sample with him, her head was fine. But one thought about the strength of his shoulders or the way his hair had felt beneath her fingers had that sharp agony back with a vengeance. She was so confused and tired of being cold.
Different ways to sabotage Dianta's costume seemed to be the only thing she could safely consider. Not that she actually would—she was too big of a believer in karma—but it was nice to imagine the peroxide blonde falling off the float and
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