Last Day of Summer

Fair warning: this is another bit of dark fiction that’s been scratching away in my mind for a while. To put it bluntly, I feared that people would misconstrue my intent and throw either righteous rage [or even worse] lust in my direction…

Reading Aisling Weaver’s well-crafted story The Confession finally gave me the courage to write it down.

This story will not be illustrated.


She took a deep breath and rolled down the passenger’s window. “Hey, I know you!” She leaned toward the passenger’s side window, but her hands remained firmly clutched to the steering wheel.

“Ms. Nullman! How YOU doing?” The girl looked genuinely happy to see her.

“What are you doing out so late? Do you parents know you’re here?” Her palms were sweaty.

The girl looked down, then back at her bashfully. “No. I snuck out to see…somebody, but they didn’t show up.” Her lower lip trembled. “They were supposed to be my ride.”

Her ride. Nullman’s lip twitched with mirth.

“Let me give you a ride home, honey. It’s too late for a girl like you to be out and about.”

The girl squealed happily and jumped into her hatchback. The car was flooded with the sweet scent of weed and candy-scented body spray. Nullman turned down the radio and drove. The girl must not have smoked – she was jittery as a puppy. Her summertanned skin shone in the glow of the traffic lights.

“What’s that?” The girl pointed at her lap.

“Oh…” Nullman had forgotten about the bottle between her legs. It was in a paper sack. The girl had watched movies. She knew it was alcohol.

“Can I have a sip? I had a couple winecoolers earlier, but they’re wearing off.” She flipped her hair and her little tits jiggled underneath her top. The girl’s eyes looked steadily at her.

“I don’t think girls should be drinking,” Nullman said uncertainly.

“Pfft. And grown women shouldn’t be drinking and driving,” the girl said. She grabbed the bottle and pulled slow and firm. Nullman sighed.

“Don’t tell your parents, okay?”

“Fuck my parents.” She threw her head back and guzzled.

Nullman snatched the bottle from her. “You’re gonna smell like a bar.”

“I was drinking. Duh.”

“More importantly, you’re drinking it all.” Nullman took a swig and put it back between her legs.

“What did you mean by ‘a girl like you’ earlier, at the stop?”

“I meant someone as young as you are.”

“I’m old enough to know that you’re lying.” The girl stuck her bare foot out the window and wiggled her toes. She wore a miniskirt and Nullman saw slim thigh up to questionable panties. “What? We’re both women here, no one’s looking,” she said.

Nullman stared.

“Well, that’s what I meant. Listen, we’re going to my house. You can shower there, then I’ll take you-”

“Ooh, ice cream!” the girl grabbed the wheel and they nearly crashed into a Mister Softee sign.


“It’s whatever,” she said between long, swirling licks. “My parents are most probably asleep anyways.” She was sitting in the backseat, with her naked toes curling with pleasure right by Nullman’s face.

“What’s whatever?” The older woman’s voice was deep with impatience.

“Going to your place and hanging out. I’d most probably get high and rub it to daddy’s porn collection.”

Nullman tapped the breaks. The girl giggled.

“Like I know, right? I was grossed out at first, but then I realized we have the same taste.”

It took everything Nullman had to keep a straight face.

“You must be wondering what taste that is,” the girl said in her ear. She smacked her sticky lips together with satisfaction when Nullman jumped. She leaned back and  put her feet back up.

“No, I don’t have any interest in know what your father whacks it to.” Nullman pulled into her driveway and got out of her car. The girl didn’t move except to take a vicious bite out of her cone. “Take your time. I’ll be inside.” She walked coolly into her house.

The girl watched until Nullman had closed her door then took out her cell.

U r not gonna b-live this

The phone beeped almost immediately.


Im at Nullman’s house!!

wtf why?

She caught me sneaking back from Carlos’ n gave me a ride.

Why u at her place tho?

She’s fukin’ HAWT

u r such a raging dyke

says u pfft

im out tho ;D

whatevs im going inside

ur crazy

crazy in luv <3 <3

She threw her phone back in her bag. It beeped again, but she didn’t hear.

b CAREFUL, k? call me later. luv u  xx


Nullman was sitting at her dining room table, waiting.

“You didn’t tell all your friends that you’re here, right? It might get us both in trouble.”

The girl walked into the penumbra of the dining room slowly. Her heart pounded. There was something much heavier in the air than what she’d ever felt with anyone else. Her slim shoulders bowed with it, but she was ready. Her panties were soaked.

She looked at Nullman’s thick brown hair and wished she could run her fingers through it. When she turned, the girl gasped and took a step back. She wasn’t used to feeling such intense desire.

“The bathroom’s down that hall. Second door on the right. There are fresh washcloths and towels in the closet, okay?” Nullman’s jaw tightened when she saw the nymphet in the shadows.

The girl took two steps forward and put her hand on Nullman’s shoulder. Her touch burned.

“Go! It’s getting late and if your parents wake up and notice you aren’t there, We’ll…you’ll get in trouble.”

“Alright, Mrs Null- I mean, Deidre.” the girl said. Nullman didn’t correct her.


The girl noticed there was no lock on the bathroom door. Her limbs tingled with excitement as she undressed. She fantasized about Deidre walking in on her, desperate for a pee as she showered. She imagined sneaking a look at her as she patted her pussy dry.

Pussy. She still reddened thinking about the word.

Maybe she’d noticed her looking and she’d let Nullman see her tits and then…

And then…

During the whole shower, the water was never cold enough.


Nullman paced her kitchen.

The girl was in her shower, gloriously naked and glistening with soap – the same girl she’d furtively watched go a hundred times as she stood at her classroom door to receive her students.

Why had she stopped?

It must’ve been the toxic mix of alcohol and loneliness.

Why did her girlfriend have to be away for a whole month?

She should’ve gone with her to see her sister [and her lovely twelve-year-old twin nieces]


Nullman kicked off her sandals. They made twin hollow bonks on her cabinet door. She pressed herself against her cool larder door and breathed deeply.

She will let the [golden, flower-scented] girl  sober up a little on her couch. She will give her coffee to drink. She will sit way on the other side of the sofa, or on another chair altogether. She will disregard the fact that the girl is curious and clearly interested [in her, in it, in sex].

She will NOT sniff the air for a whiff of the nymphet’s chemicals, or imagine what she might taste like…

“Fuck!” Nullman took off her wet panties and balled them up in her fist.

“Are you alright?” the girl said softly from the kitchen door. Her strawberry blond hair dripped on the linoleum. She wore only a [cruelly short] towel.

“Oh, I’m fine. I, uh, stubbed my toe on a cabinet.” Nullman smiled too broadly. She made a physical effort not to stare at the miles of [long slim tan wet] leg, at [gleaming] shoulders and [barely covered tender] breasts.

“That sucks, it sounded painful. Lemme see…” before she could say no the girl bent to scrutinize her toes. The hem of Nullman’s short summer dress fluttered, showing the girl gilded thigh and naked mound. The girl’s grip on her towel loosened. Deidre saw nipple and whimpered.

The girl looked up at her and touched her inner thigh with her hot hot hand. “Deidre…”


There was no traffic. The AC hissed too loud in the silent car.

“Um…so. It’s almost time to go back to school. You ready?”

The girl looked up from her restless hands. Her face was still glowing, but the light in her eyes had gone out. She was terrifyingly, heart-wrenchingly lovely.

“Yeah, I’m really excited. It’s a new start and all…”

“Ha, the first day of high school. You’ll never, ever forget it.” Nullman pulled into the curb near the girl’s house. The girl pulled down the sun visor to check the makeup on the lovebites on her neck. The ones on her thighs and breasts were covered by her clothes, but they would take time to heal – much longer than she imagined. “Good luck. As beautiful and smart as you are,  you’ll have a wonderful time.” The girl jumped when Nullman patted her knee.

“Thank you, Ms. Nullman. See you around,” she said formally before slamming the passenger’s side door with a trembling hand. Nullman stayed and watched her walk into her house.  Her heart sank, but her flesh was exultant.


The girl did not look back.

Categories: Discussion, Short Story, XimenaTags: , , , ,


I undulate in your vision
A strange beauty
in a world of plastic, collagen and steel
The endearing oddball
the living, breathing Picasso that you want to figure out
but too afraid to venture into my penumbra
you cower at the gate, fingering the knob on the door to my most secret place
wishing you could find the courage to walk with me
love me, just as I am


  1. I thought that you did a frighteningly good job here of distinguishing between the kind of desire felt by the young girl and the kind felt by the teacher. The lust of the teacher *felt* studied and mature. And the lust of the girl didn’t seem all that different from her “lust” for ice cream, or alcohol, or general rebellion. The differences in maturity were all the more jarring, I think, BECAUSE of the few points where eroticism was supposed to blur the lines. I can’t say I “liked” this in the sense that it made me aroused or happy, but I “liked” it in the sense that I’m impressed by its nuance.

  2. Fully agree with the comment above, and can’t really add to it. However, call me a total perv (and I am), but I don’t see what’s necessarily ‘dark’ about this piece. The situation described here is – for better or worse – a staple of popular culture: everything from ‘Lolita’ to ‘Maidens in Uniform’ to ‘Don’t Stand So Close To Me’. Not so very long ago I was amazed to hear a radio play (on the BBC no less) detailing – in fairly explicit terms – the affair between a male teacher and his female teenage pupil: the relationship was portrayed in an entirely positive light. You took an admirably neutral stance with this, letting the readers draw their own conclusions, but it seems to me that “rage & lust” are staples of literature, and as fiction writers we shouldn’t shy away from provoking either.

  3. paul1510

    If Lolita is acceptable, why not this.
    It is written with sensitivity and taste.
    Yes it is difficult terrain, but if creative writers cannot explore such terrain, who can?
    Warm hugs,

  4. Xi,
    I missed seeing this go up(and I’ve been neglecting my Google Reader something fierce) and caught it from the pingback to Confession.

    This is just masterfully done. The jolt from one point of view to the other does indeed drop you from a mature mind into an immature mind and reveal the chasm of disparity between the two. This is really written quite well and is just startlingly honest from the adult’s inner commentary when she’s telling herself she shouldn’t be doing something to the end where the girl’s feeling the aftermath and the teacher is seeing it.



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