Caroline's secret - Sex Stories

Caroline's secret

... polyurethane, rubbing, squeezing, forcing open the reluctant necks of our famously flimsy bags. I looked up. The rustling stopped. I thought the dirty old bastard was ogling my left tit, till I realised he was simply trying to read my name tag. 'Caroline, is it?' I shrugged. It wasn't classified information. I was no supermarket super-secret weapon. 'Yes.' 'Jack Cole. Mr Cole? I used to teach you...' 'English. Yes, I know. I remember.' I smiled, rested my chin on my vertical thumbs and leaned back on my stool. 'You look well!' He did. His short hair was grey, short beard was greying, and his slim body had filled out somewhat, but it was undoubtedly him. Naturally, his voice had mellowed to match his manly frame and, sadly, his big brown eyes had lost most of their boyish enthusiasm, but I was still amazed I hadn't recognised him straight away. After all, I thought about him all the time. 'You too! And who's this next door? Alice Taylor? You two going to be buried next to each other?' It was more than a little sad that, in twenty-five years, Alice and I had not progressed further than the local shop and even sadder that we sat on virtually conjoined tills. A severe, anorexic woman with choirboy hair and angular cheekbones barely contained beneath their tight pallid cheeks, stepped forwards and ceremoniously took his arm. Her forced smile resembled a snarl. 'Who's this, Jack? Surely not another of your old students.' 'Yes, yes!' He became strangely animated. 'Anna, this is ...

... Caroline... Lawson? Isn't it?' I actually chortled. 'Top marks, Ssssir, yes. Well done! Though it's B-B-Baldwin now. I married...' 'No! Let me guess!' He smiled warmly and years fell from him. 'James Baldwin? The sleepy ginger boy across the aisle?' Not one to miss out, Alice had silently sidled over. She rested her elbow on my shoulder and stuck out her incredible refurbished tits. To his credit, Jack never even glanced down, though his wife was transfixed by them; jealousy is a terrible thing. Alice whined like a sixteen year-old. 'I had him first though, Sir.' She dug the point of her elbow into my well-upholstered ribcage. 'Come to mention it, I had him last, too!' Fuck, she had a nerve. She was still guffawing at that while revisiting the ruins of my castle and rifling through the rubble. 'Caroline used to fancy you, didn't yer, Caz?' As my whole upper body flushed with pre-menopausal blood, Alice leaned across the stainless steel packing tray and cupped Mr Cole's ear. He reddened, exactly as he had all those years ago, and I was back there, skinny and spotty, frustrated and frightened. And then it hit me. My secret. Could she? The bitch. No, surely? No. No. No. She wouldn't. She didn't. * Weeks passed. He didn't come back. At first, I thought he would. Expected him the very next day. So I applied some subtle extra make-up. Took a little more time with my hair. And though the customers got more flirty, it was otherwise all in vain. He never showed. Still, I didn't let up. I ...