Note: This is my first try at this genre, and only my third try at writing a short story, so any helpful feedback would be greatly appreciated. Thanks.
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I walked toward his office, determination in my eyes and a pair of handcuffs in my hands. I knew that I was taking a chance doing this at his job, but I didn't care. It was his own fault, if he'd only kissed me last night when we were on our date, none of this would be necessary. Now, I had only a few hours before I had to be at the airport, and I was determined to get my kiss. We had been on five dates already, and he still hadn't kissed me. My friends' reaction to this fell into two camps, half thinking he was gay and the other half trying to break the news gently that maybe he just wasn't interested. I wasn't convinced that either one of those was true. When we were going out, there were always the tell tale signs of a date. The flirtatious talk, the intimate settings, his paying for dinner each time, holding open doors, and just the general feel between us all read like a date to me. Although, since my man-dar is only slightly worse than my gay-dar, maybe he did just want to be friends and I was the one misreading the signs, not him. However, I refused to give up until he came out and told me so himself, or until he came out.
As for the gay theory, well I must admit that it was the theory that was slowly winning me over. I tried to test it out several times by wearing particularly skimpy clothing and seeing how he would react. The clothes clung to all the curves on my body magnificently, making every man I encountered drool, but I barely got a reaction out of him. Even as I tried to understand what had gone wrong, I kept looking back for just a hint of something to show me he was interested. There was one occasion in particular where I picked my outfit very carefully, and was ready to knock him over like a ton of bricks.
He worked in one of the administrative offices in my school, and I had gotten an email that they had some papers for me to sign. Being the diligent student that I am, I hurried to get all my paperwork cleared up with the school. I decided to wear a low cut, egg shell colored shirt, which showed off my ample cleavage nicely, while also highlighting my slim waist. I knew that I had gained a few pounds since starting school, but luckily for me, most of it had gone to my chest and my butt, adding even more to my curvaceous figure. And my butt did look good as I wore a skin tight light blue denim skirt, which ran down almost to my knee, but had a slit in the front that couldn't go any higher without it being called indecent. The skirt was already tight, but the added pounds I had put on in the last year of school, only made it all the more tight on my perky round ass, and my toned, long legs. On my legs I also put a pair of calf skin, thigh high stiletto boots. I topped off the outfit with little girl pigtails, which added a hint of innocence to my somewhat scandalous attire. I was something bordering on little school girl, but with more denim.
On my way to school that day, I was stopped by every guy I knew, and most of the ones I didn't know. Eyes followed me, drawn first to the sound of my stilettos ringing against the sidewalk, and slowly making their way up my body, taking note of how all the best features seemed to come in twos, my legs, my breasts, my lips, my eyes, my pigtails. Even a male classmate, who I knew had a particular dislike of me, drew me into a prolonged conversation. I highly doubted that he really found my conversation skills all that mentally stimulating, although I wouldn't have been surprised to find that something else had been stimulated.
When I finally made it to the school, I couldn't wait to go sign those papers! I approached his office, waving a quick hello, pretending that I was there for anything but to see him. The woman I needed to see had stepped away for a minute, and I went into a nearby room to wait for her. He came in, and he seemed to take note of my form. I think the pigtails in particular caught his eye. But then, all I got were a few words, just some casual conversation. Not even a single compliment about my outfit, or me for that matter, passed through his lips. The woman I was waiting for soon returned, and I signed the paperwork and left feeling very dejected.
Today was the day that was all going to change. This time, there were no fancy outfits, it was just me. As I approached his office, I wore little more than some mascara, a track suit, which did highlight my ass nicely, and a devious smile. It was the last day of finals exam, and the few student who were left on campus were busy taking their exams. It was lunch time, and most of the office personnel were gone, but as I approached, I spotted him instantly, in his corner office. For a second I wanted to turn back, thinking how risky this was, and deftly afraid of rejection, but I forced myself to go forward. I had come this far, and there was no going back. The words to the song, "Whatever Lola Wants, Lola Gets," played out in my mind, as Lola was determined to get her kiss. I was leaving school for the summer. That's three whole months I would be gone, and there was no way I was going to go without leaving him something to remember me by; and taking something with me.
"Hi." My voice was calm as I entered his doorway.
"Hi." He looked up at me, with that look he has that I find impossible to read. "Shouldn't you be on a plane by now?"
"I still have a few hours before my flight." I approached him slowly, my hands held behind my back to hide the surprise I was about to spring on him. "I just thought I'd come to say goodbye before I left." I came closer and closer with each word. My courage wavering with each step I took toward him.
"Oh, that's nice, but didn't we say goodbye yesterday"?
"Yes, but if you remember," I was standing right next to him now. He still sat at his desk, and I was just to his right, "I promised I would get you back for that mean thing you did to me yesterday." I pouted my lips, thinking of the way he had lingered on a simple mistake I had made when we were out the previous day, giving me the excuse I needed to pull this off.
His mouth came up in that smirk of his, which always made me weak at the knees. I wanted to kiss him more than anything then, as my courage returned. "And how is it that you plan to 'get me' back"? He looked so cock sure, so devilishly handsome when he said that. It was probably one of the things I liked most about him.
"Well...I did promise you handcuffs." The last word had barely escaped my mouth before I reached out and snapped the cuff on his right hand. Before he realized what was going on, I snapped the other cuff on my left hand. Now I was the one smiling the cocky smile. Now I was the one in control, although I soon realized, he wasn't about to give up control so easily.
"So what do you plan to do with this," he asked, holding up his right hand, dragging my hand along with it. "You're the one who has to be on a plane soon, right"? There was that smile again. Why is it that I had trouble thinking straight every time I saw that smile?
