After a few moments, Jen was able to calm the hammering in her chest, stabilizing her rough, panting breaths as the afterglow of her orgasm ebbed away. She was young enough not to have an extensive catalogue of experience, but as she lay on her bed with beads of impassioned sweat glistening on her skin, she knew she had never cum so hard before in her life. What is going on with me...?
Eventually, she stood up and set about finishing her morning routine, with the now added step of removing her soaked bedsheets and tossing them in a hamper for Martha to wash later. After some searching, she found the missing match to her thigh-high sock, cotton panties, and then a pair of simple tennis shoes to complete her school uniform.
She paused to check herself in her bedroom mirror–the morning's activities had left her hair somewhat disheveled, so she took a moment to brush it out. Better, she noted to herself, but I'm still red in the cheeks... I look like I could have a fever almost.
Determined not to let the odd start to the morning ruin her day, Jen traipsed out of her bedroom, across the living room and foyer, and out the large colonial front doors. As expected, her driver was waiting in the turnaround, stood beside the black Mercedes-Benz with his usual expression of thinly veiled impatience.
"The young Ms. Smith is running behind schedule this morning."
"What of it? We don't pay you to be a judgy sod. Just take me to school, Arthur."
Jennifer surprised even herself somewhat at the harshness of her tone, but the uncontrollable nature of her earlier 'episode' had put her on edge. She didn't make eye contact with her white-gloved chaperone as he opened the door to the back seat for her. She tossed her bag in first, and then smoothed her skirt beneath her as she climbed in. Her thighs were warm to the touch.
On the ride across town, Jennifer fidgeted agitatedly. She felt uncomfortably hot, as if the air in the car were stifling, muggy. Reaching for the independent air conditioning controls on the back of the center console, she directed a jet of cool air at her face. It did little to help.
She looked up, and for a moment thought she had seen Arthur's steel blue eyes glancing at her in the rearview mirror. They were back on the road now, but she let her own gaze linger. Her valet was sporting a five o'clock shadow dusting his firm, angular jawline. How is he not sweating in this heat?
At the thought, an image flashed through Jen's mind: Arthur's face beaded with sweat, fixed in concentration as he looked down at her. He was breathing hard, panting, pressing himself against her body... thrusting inside of her...
Mentally shaking herself, Jen turned her head to stare pointedly out of the window at the passing trees and houses. What on Earth has gotten into me...?
She smoothed her skirt down over her legs again and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Jen didn't want to admit it to herself, for fear that acknowledging it might bring back the intense desire she'd felt earlier that morning, but the crotch of her panties were wet again.
The rolling lawn and stately red brick facade of East Hampton High School suddenly loomed into view however, demanding her attention.
"We've arrived." Arthur stated simply as he pulled up to the front entrance of the school.
He didn't get out to open the door for her–an affront that Jennifer would have normally commented on–but she was too distracted by her body's unbridled arousal. Somewhat shakily, she grabbed the strap of her backpack and pulled it along with herself out of the car, barely having a chance to close the door before Arthur drove off. Absolute git...
Turning away, she shouldered her bag and set off at a brisk pace toward the glass front doors. That were only a few other laggard students making their way inside, reminding Jen uncomfortably just how much time she had spent satisfying her carnal desires.
Steeling herself for her first period teacher's inevitable reprimand, she opened one of the great glass doors and stepped into the cool, air-conditioned entrance hall.