Disclaimer: This is a work of erotic fiction intended solely for the entertainment of adult persons. All characters and situations are entirely fictional and based on no one in particular, taking place in a universe where sexually transmitted viruses and diseases don't actually exist, except for the fun ones that make everyone obsessed with sex.
A tried-and-true formula, done my way. I hope it's not too derivative.
Gloria Phine was at the school in her office after hours once again, grading papers. It was important to her to keep her personal life and her work life separate. So long as she graded all the homework she handed out at school, there was nothing stopping her from going home after a long day and relaxing. She pushed back her short dirty-blond hair from out of her face, trying her best to be at least casually condescending about the latest paper she was looking at. Alexander the Great, indeed, did not lead the fight against Jesus’s Disciples two hundred years ago.
She finished at about six o’clock, which was more or less par for the course. After gathering her things in her bag, a big clunky catch-all that would hold her wallet, course notes, various essential feminine products, and a spare change of clothes just in case one of the seniors tried to “accidentally” wet her shirt again, she headed out the door. It wasn’t easy being a good-looking teacher, and Gloria certainly was one even at thirty-five years of age, despite her determination in hiding it in dull-colored pantsuits like the one she wore today and by trying to look as mousy as possible. Her pretty face only accentuated a frame that was kept slim by semi-regular workouts and proper diet, and though her hair was kept short it suited her no-nonsense personality. Gloria kept herself in shape not because she wanted to look good, but rather because it didn’t make any sense to her to leave her body open to sickness. It was plain she didn’t care too much about her looks from her pale, almost sickly skin tone, but Gloria had no interest in catering to the desires of men who just wanted some beach-bronzed bimbo. She wanted to be taken seriously around the school, not viewed as some pretty-girl who needed to use looks to make students pay attention.
Right outside her office she ran into Anchor Creek’s High School Principal, Claire Adams. She was a shorter, petite woman, a few years older than Gloria, with curly red hair and emerald green eyes.
“Good evening, Gloria,” she said pleasantly, “Finally heading home?”
“Yes, just as soon as I swing by the post office.”
Gloria liked Claire, they were kindred spirits. When Gloria wanted to start the Young Women’s Awareness Group, a pro-feminism organization to help educate and organize the school’s impressionable young women against male superiority, Claire not only agreed but did her best to help Gloria architect events promoting their message. The Group was especially important in a school like Anchor Creek, where the population ratio of girls to boys was easily two to one. Most of her classes had two-thirds girls and one-third boys doing too much staring and not enough listening. The unusual ratio was one of the reasons she had chosen to work at Anchor Creek, because had known she wanted to start something like YWAG, and didn’t see any sense in pursuing an uphill battle at a male-dominated school to begin with.
“How’s the speech coming?” Claire asked.
She referred to the speech on women’s issues in the school that Gloria was going to give at the annual YWAG Banquet Saturday night. It was to be a milestone in the life of YWAG, representatives from other schools in the area would be in attendance, and if Gloria was persuasive enough the organization would start to gain some steam across the county.
“I’ve got some good ideas down, they just need to be put in the right order. And have words added to them.”
Claire laughed. “Well, let me know if you need any help.”
“Thanks, Claire. I will.”
Gloria arrived home a few dozen minutes later with an unexpected package in tow from the post office. She had only been going there to drop off some mail, but when she checked her box she found a brown parcel inside from something called Female Designs. The name was a bit unsettling, not having heard of it before and certainly not wanting to open up the package and see a bunch of tampons fall out. She hadn’t ordered anything, and she was sure no one had ordered anything for her – she had been single for over five years, and any time her family sent her something there was notice given well in advance via phone.
She set the package down on the kitchen counter of her modest one-bedroom apartment, going to her room to change into some more comfortable clothes before doing anything else. Pantsuits were all well and good for work, but at home Gloria liked to relax, and dressed mostly in sweats. She made herself a quick sandwich for dinner, sitting down on the nearby couch to open the package. The brown paper ripped open easily, and it wasn’t long before Gloria found herself staring quizzically at a pair of very comfortable-looking pink slippers, attached to a plain white note, with the words, “Enjoy” written in big, block letters. Gloria shrugged, and put the slippers on after suspiciously checking them for anything that might be inside.
They felt fantastic. Gloria felt fantastic. Almost immediately a relaxed, nearly-euphoric daze swept over her. She realized how intensely tired she was, and how good it felt just to sit back and let the slippers massage her toes. It was so strange that it felt that way, getting a luxurious foot massage just from a pair of slippers, and Gloria felt her feet beneath the slippers just to check for some kind of hidden motor, but that just let her to start rubbing the soft cloth of the slippers with her hands like they were a long-lost lover. It wasn’t quite silk, and it wasn’t quite fur, but it was some combination of intensely soft and cool cloth that agreed just exactly with Gloria’s disposition. She felt herself laying down on the couch, wanting a nice little nap to enjoy her new footwear. Whatever reason Gloria was the one to get that package, it was one heck of a way for this Female Designs place to sell their products.
When she woke, it was nearly midnight. Gloria found herself feeling absolutely ravenous, and raided her fridge like she hadn’t since she had been in college. She wrote a small note reminding herself to go to the grocery store the next day before humming her way to bed, still wearing the pink slippers. She slept in them all night.
Gloria woke Tuesday morning feeling better than she had in ages. Mornings were normally a tempestuous time for her, never having enjoyed being broken from the easy motions of sleep, but not so today. She felt like someone had given her a shot in the arm. Where the slippers on her feet made her relaxed and sleepy last night, she now felt jazzed and ready for the day. She almost showered with them on, before reminding herself that she didn’t want to ruin them after only owning them for a day.
When dressing herself she noticed that the pants she had picked out for the day were a little high on the ankles. That wouldn’t do at all, it would hardly serve her interests to look unprofessional at school. She settled on a black skirt near the back of the closet, not worn in well over a year, and wore a gray blouse and matching black jacket to go with it. Her bra clung to her breasts tightly, but a little bit of swelling was hardly surprising given how much she had eaten the night before. Even so, Gloria gave herself a big breakfast, still feeling almost wanton in her hunger even after nearly emptying out her fridge the night before, and then set out to school thinking she could conquer the world.
Her first class went by swimmingly. It was like her good mood was infectious, and though normally her morning classes were lethargic and apathetic, she really felt like she reached a few, made them care. In between classes Gloria went by the office to check her mail. Usually there were just messages from parents wanting to talk about a child’s grades, or announcements about upcoming school events. But that day Gloria had a small brown package in her box, almost identical to the one that she had picked up yesterday at the post office. And just like the one the day prior, it too was from that Female Designs group. Did they know where she worked too? It was unsettling what the internet could find out about a person these days. Curious and a bit apprehensive, Gloria opened the package, and found another pair of shoes, this time two shiny black flats, similar to the ones she was wearing but made from leather, with one thick strap going across the feet right behind where her toes would be. Small flowers were stitched into every side, a style that Gloria wasn’t partial to, but she had to admit looked festive, if nothing else.
Before she knew what was happening Gloria was slipping off her old shoes and trying on her new ones. A soft sigh of exquisite happiness escaped her lips. This was something different than before with the slippers, something flat-out amazing. She felt like running a marathon and grinning at everyone and everything on the way. It was like every molecule of her body had woken up and decided today was the day to burst. The mailroom suddenly felt unbearably hot, but in a good, sauna sort of way. Gloria unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse unconsciously, and walked over to the nearby fan, enjoying the cool air as it tickled her exposed bare skin.
“Gloria, are you alright?” Came a voice from across the room.
It was Randall Jung, the football coach. The two of them were typically at odds with one another, Randall thinking Gloria was an uptight feminist and Gloria thinking he was a chauvinist pig, but there was something different in his voice. Was it almost . . . admiration?
“I’m fine,” Gloria said happily. “Just fine. Why?”
“I’ve just never seen you smile before.”
Gloria put a hand on her hip. “Do you have a problem with me smiling?”
“Not at all,” Randall said, smiling back at her. “It rather suits you. You should do it more often.”
“Maybe I will,” Gloria teased, and sauntered out of the office. She turned her head to flash him another smile before leaving. She really did fill out the skirt she wore.
Only seconds after leaving the room she pressed her back against a nearby wall, finding that she was breathing hard. Did she just flirt with Coach Jung? Yuck! He was everything she stood against.
The leggy history teacher hardly had time to think about it. Holly, the school’s receptionist, was walking towards her. Holly was a sweet girl, but Gloria felt she needed to learn a few more life lessons about how powerful a woman could be. She was only a few years older than most of the seniors, and far too friendly with them. Nothing inappropriate, of course, but encouraging friendliness with the students only made them think they could get away with more. It didn’t help that Holly was painfully cute, dark short hair and a busty figure, covered today with jeans and a tight shirt, with a lovely face to top it off.
“Gloria, what have you done with your hair?”
Gloria ran a hand through her dirty blond hair, noticing it felt a little longer than usual. “Oh, nothing, really, I think I just need to give it a trim.”
“You haven’t done that already? It looks different.”
“Oh, what?” For once, Gloria sounded surprised. “I guess it’s just a new conditioner.”
“Well, you’ll have to tell me what it is.” Holly enthused. “You’re practically glowing.”
This was getting complicated. Gloria wasn’t using new conditioner at all, just the same stuff she had owned for as long as she could remember. Her hair was trivial to her, it got in the way. But now someone noticing it, it was . . . nice? She had to fight such utterly feminine tendencies.
“Look, Holly, I need to get back to class.”
Holly just smiled. “We’ll talk later then, okay?” She bounced off back to her desk.
The rest of the day went by fast, but Gloria couldn’t seem to get enough of it. She honestly felt for the first time in years that she simply loved life. Every step she took in her new shoes she felt like a new woman, each version happier than before. By the time her last class rolled around, she completed only half of her lecture before beginning to just simply talk with her students, finding herself honestly interested about their futures, their lives, their desires. She felt like everyone’s best friend, and like everyone was hers. Her mood was insatiable, and even when Principal Adams came by she joined in the fun. Gloria even forgot to be condescending to the boys when they tried to flirt with her. She even encouraged it, just a little, brushing her hair the right way, smiling at their half-hidden jokes. It was exhilarating. By the time she left the school she felt unstoppable, her shoes bouncing along in the hallways to the tune of her new attitude. She left right after the bell rang, throwing her usual grading responsibilities to the future.
She had stopped for groceries on the way home, and quickly found herself enjoying watching the bagboy’s young, tight bottom as he carried her things out. She only realized how inappropriate it was on the way back to her apartment inside of her car, when she was wistfully rubbing her thighs together, imagining herself propositioning him with hot, needy whispers in his ear. Gloria had no idea what was getting into her – or more accurately – why she wanting someone to get into her. Her sex life had expired long ago, but she had rather enjoyed the lack of complication, or so she thought. She bit her lower lip in thought as she carried the groceries back up to the second floor of her complex, walking through the door. Sex didn’t have to be complicated, she supposed. It would be simple to go out to a club, pick some hot guy to grind with and take him home, then kick him out before the morning came. Yes, that would be simple, she would get what she wanted and no unnecessary connections were made.
Gloria set down the groceries and slipped off her fantastic new shoes, going to her room to change. She put on her lovely pink slippers before dressing, and after a few minutes stepped out of the room dressed only in a pair of white panties and a tight pink t-shirt instead of her usual sweats. The only justification for wearing the t-shirt, which hadn’t been worn in at least ten years, was that it matched her slippers. It also made her tits look perky, which she had to admit made her feel good about herself. This just seemed more . . . comfortable. She knew she had a nice body, she could at least show it off a bit around the apartment, by herself.
The doorbell rang when she was in the middle of putting up groceries. It was the building manager, Derek, holding a brown package smaller than the others she had recieved. Gloria wasn’t surprised when she saw the words “Female Designs” written along the side.
“Wow!” Derek said. “I mean, uh, package for you, m’aam, been in my office all day.”
Gloria only just noticed that she answered the door in nothing but her underwear and a t-shirt, and immediately after being aware of it she was very aware that she enjoyed Derek’s eyes on her, memorizing her half-naked body.
“Thanks, honey,” she cooed.
Gloria never cooed, much less call someone “honey.” She took the package out of his shocked hands, letting her fingers linger a bit on his.
“You’re so nice for bringing this up to me personally,” she cooed again. “I’ll just have to find some way to thank you properly.”
“Oh, um, just . . . doing my job, m’aam. I have to go back now,” Derek stammered. “The office is closed and this is my last item of the day and I need to go back.” His words came fast, like he was trying to convince himself of something. “I need to go back to my wife. My wife, I have one, I need to go back to her.” His cheeks were flushing, and Gloria just stood in the doorway, one leg positioned forward, her chest thrusting upward.
“Bye then, hon. Thanks for this, again.” She laughed, and closed the door.
As soon as the door was closed Gloria pressed against it back first, dipping a hand down her panties. She could have seduced the building manager right there. She could have asked him in for a drink that would have turned into a frolicking good time. She was soaking wet, her body an inferno of desire. She couldn’t even remember the last time she was so turned on. Hand still on her crotch, rubbing it softly, she made her way to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine, downed it, and then poured another. One-handed, she opened the brown package, and found a pair of frilly pink socks inside. She almost moaned in anticipation of putting them on – they would match her slippers exactly. It was very important suddenly, matching.
She took off her slippers only long enough to try them on, and finally did moan when she put them back on. The leggy blond fell to the floor in delight, fingering her hot wet snatch, and quickly brought herself to orgasm thinking about dragging Derek inside and using him for her own carnal desires. She downed three more glasses of wine in the space of ten minutes before she felt randy again, in that time barely noticing that the package also had a pair of bright, white stockings in it. They would be tried on tomorrow. She finished the bottle of wine and made herself cum three more times before crawling into bed with both her socks and slippers still on, dreaming of seducing every man who looked at her the right way.