tagCelebrities & Fan FictionGilmore Girls: Stop the Presses Ch. 01

Gilmore Girls: Stop the Presses Ch. 01


(Femslash. Rory/Paris/Ms. Peters. Notes. This story takes place after my story "Detention". As far as I can determine Ms. Peters, the faculty advisor for "The Franklin" never had her first name given. Therefore I have chosen one for her. As always, the characters are not mine. They are the creation of Amy Sherman-Palladino and belong to the WB and the CW. These events take place however in the spring of the characters' final year at Chilton. Since Rory's birthday is October 8th and Paris was born in December by that time they would have both unquestionably been over 18.))


Angelina Peters tucked her hands behind her head, leaned back in her chair and swung her legs up onto her desk, crossing her feet at the ankles. There was one alarming moment when the thirty-something year old teacher thought she was going to lose her balance. Her hands came from behind her head and she waved her arms frantically for a bit until she regained her equilibrium. Once she had she returned to her intended position she closed her eyes and relaxed.

It had been quite a year here at Chilton but it was drawing to a close. She smiled. In some ways it had been one of the most hectic ones she could remember. Of course the majority of that could be summed up with just two names; Rory Gilmore and Paris Gellar.

Not that the dark-haired attractive woman disliked either of those girls. Far from it in fact. Rory Gilmore was a gifted, intelligent and charming young lady and a great student. She also showed great promise as an aspiring writer and reporter. Angelina had happily watched and hopefully assisted her growth over the last three years. Rory was the kind of student who made her glad she had gone into teaching.

Now Paris Gellar was completely different but in some ways the same. She was prickly and sometimes haughty; occasionally a self-centered "Queen Bee" type. But she was smart and sharp and quick-witted. More than that, Angelina had seen the loneliness that was deep inside the blonde girl, the desire for friendship and someone she could count on all the time, not just when the wind blew her way. Angelina had to take a completely different approach with Paris. She knew that the hint of anything resembling pity for the hard outer shell that her home life, or lack of it, had created would only make the young woman withdraw more. Getting her to open up had been a gradual process, always slow and sometimes frustrating, but very pleasing in the end.

She had been very happy when Rory and Paris had gone from bitter rivals to uneasy coworkers to finally friends. They complimented each other. Each had strengths that helped the other; each had weaknesses that were supported by the other.

The setup by Francine that had almost ruined that friendship... Angelina nearly ground her teeth as she thought of that. Well, the duo had worked their way though that and came out on the other side stronger. Angelina had thought that anyway.

That was why she had been so surprised to hear that the pair was once more in Headmaster Charleston's office for fighting, or at least the next thing to it. It hadn't taken long for her surprise to change to concern. What could have set them off this time? As soon as her schedule permitted she had hastened down the long halls from her room to the office. Along the way she had encountered Charleston.

"Ah. Ms. Peters. Come to check on your prize pupils I wager," he had said. She had indicated her agreement and he had continued. "Probably some boy again I would suspect, even though they both denied that quite strongly." The man had droned on for sometime with his pet theory as Angelina attempted to smile and control her desire to roll her eyes and dash past the man. Finally he had wound down, informing her that he had locked them in his office to sort things out.

"I DO hope that more violence won't occur," he said piously.

Angelina used the last of her self-control to avoid laughing out loud. Yes, there had been the fencing incident, but beyond that the idea of Rory and Paris coming to blows was absolutely absurd. Once the Headmaster had moved on she quickened her pace. Whatever was going on with Rory and Paris she was sure of two things. First, it didn't have anything to do with boys and second, no fight had taken place.

The key was still in the massive wooden door when she arrived. She had listened and heard nothing. Shrugging, she had unlocked the door and pulled it open. The girls had seemed surprised but pleased to see her.

"Alright you two," she had looked them over and sighed. "What is going on? I get this report that the two of you have started up World War Three. In fact from all I've heard I'm surprised there isn't blood all over the floor in here.

"Ms. Peters the whole thing is blown out of proportion," said Rory. "It was just a little silliness that was completely misunderstood."

"Absolutely," nodded Paris. "Things have never been better between Rory and I then they are right now."

The words rang true. So why did something seemed more than a little out of kilter? Angelina looked them both over. They were both flushed but she felt sure it wasn't from fighting. SOMETHING had been going on though. The room seemed a bit out of joint, immediately noticeable to anyone who knew what a fanatic Headmaster Charleston was about "Everything in its place". But her attention kept coming back to the girls.

It was nothing major, nothing that shouted out to her. But the glances the pair kept sneaking to each other; their slightly disheveled uniforms; the state of their make-up, especially Paris' who generally was immaculate all spoke to her. Then she saw it.

It was very small, something that someone who didn't know them and hadn't already seen them that morning might not have noticed. But Rory's blouse, which had been in perfect order when she passed the brunette on the way to the last class before the incident, wasn't buttoned properly. One button was undone and the one above it had been placed mistakenly in the wrong hole. This allowed the teacher to notice that Rory's bra wasn't quite settled properly but rather was a bit askew on one side, giving the girl's breasts a lumpy appearance.

Angelina was not the type to jump to conclusions or reveal ones she had made before she had time to completely digest them. So she simply nodded and spoke as evenly as she could.

"Okay, I think that last statement is probably exactly right. So you both go back to class and I'll tell the Headmaster everything has been worked out."

The duo thanked her and headed out of the room. While she pretending not to be looking, Angelina had caught the look of relief that was plastered across both faces. Just as they were passing through the doorway she had spoken.

"Rory?" When both girls turned she continued. "Rory, the buttons on your blouse aren't fastened properly. You might want to correct that before you get to class."

She had stared at the desk because she knew if she looked at the pair she might burst out laughing. But she could see enough out of the corner of her eye to catch the look of mingled shock and worry on both faces. They had hurried out and she had been able to give in to the urge to giggle that she had been holding back.

Now sitting comfortably in her office she considered those events.

Angelina Peters was neither stupid nor naive. Still single at her age she was comfortable in her position. Helping the young women in her charge was her greatest desire and her most satisfying accomplishments were their successes. Like the majority of her underpaid and under appreciated profession she cared deeply for her students and was determined to help them in any way that she could.

So, did Rory and Paris need help? It was perfectly obvious to her that the pair was in a relationship that went well beyond friendship. That it was sexual was certain, that it was emotional was almost as much of a given. She had observed them. When no one was looking they touched in ways that only lovers do. The looks, the glances they gave each other spoke volumes to someone who knew what she was looking for.

She had already taken one step. Before Headmaster Charleston could see the slight but obvious disarray of his office, particularly his desk, she had gone to him and apologized for disturbing his things when she talked to the girls. He had blustered a bit about her sitting on his desk but accepted what she told him. She certainly was not going to reveal her just about confirmed suspicions that Rory and Paris had made love on that desk top. Actually it was rather a treat to hug that knowledge whenever she saw him sit there and pontificate.

Angelina was not judgmental. She maintained a happy but rather lackluster relationship with a teacher at another high school about an hour away from Chilton. It was more a meeting of minds rather than a passionate love affair. She certainly did enjoy the occasions when they made love, David was caring and sought to please her in bed and she rarely failed to orgasm more than once. They were good together, enjoying each other's company in and out of bed but there was no real passion there. Her passion she gave to her students.

Thus, as far as she was concerned, if Paris and Rory were happy together, then more power to them. It might simply be a phase, she acknowledged. It might be love. It might be many things in between. But two people she genuinely cared for were contented. Therefore she should keep her big nose out of their business.

Now that she had firmly decided that the course of action was to take no action the tension that had been building seeped out of her body. She brought the images of the pair up in her mind. They really were cute, separately and even more so together. Rory, the taller one, with her long straight brown hair and ready smile. And her long slender legs too, Angelina thought. And Paris, shorter but with more pronounced curves that spoke of the woman who was breaking free of the teenager.

Now fit them together. My oh my. Angelina was a little surprised at just exactly where her thoughts were going. She pictured them on the Headmaster's desk and the image was quite well, surprising. Not only were the two young women naked but they were in a torrid embrace. And now her surprise was giving way to arousal. Her fingers were creeping over her body. One toyed with buttons of her plain white blouse. The other hand crept down her body and trailed along her legs.

With her eyes closed the thirty odd year old teacher brought the mental image of her two students back to the front of her mind. She slowly unbuttoned her blouse running her fingers over her lacey bra as she pulled the white material to one side. She smiled to herself as she duplicated what she could imagine Paris doing to Rory's bra. Pushing the cup down she slipped her hand over her breast. Her thumb gently stroked a dark brown nipple that grew harder as she touched it.

Her legs flexed, raising her bottom from her chair enough to wiggle her skirt up her legs. As she lowered herself she ran her curled fingers up the inside of her thigh, the short nails scratching ever so lightly against the fine nylon of the pantyhose covering her skin. She shivered, as much from her touch as the images chasing themselves through her mind.

She saw Rory undressing Paris and the other girl returning the favor. Once they were nude the pair of students embraced and fel onto the Headmaster's desk. Angelina's breathing speeded up as she imagined them kissing and touching; their mouths locked together and hands exploring each others' firm bodies.

Her thumb was rapidly strumming her rock hard nipple. She cupped the wetness between her legs, rubbing her pantyhose back against her pussy. The soaked nylon was little barrier to her touching herself. Indeed the fine material heightened her arousal, rasping gently against her labia and scratching delightfully between them.

The teacher giggled slightly. What a good thing she had, as she sometimes, foregone panties. Not that she was really in much danger of exposure, when she did she act this daring she always wore reinforced pantyhose. And today's choice of black made it very unlikely that anyone could tell even if they got a close look, something she had no intentions of allowing. At least until now. What would happen if she let either of her students get a peek?

Black high heels hit the floor as Angelina almost bolted out of her chair. What in the world was she thinking? These thoughts were dangerous. Yes, she blushed slightly; she wasn't a complete stranger to the world of female to female attraction. And both girls were over eighteen, old enough to legally kiss. And both WERE attractive and now that it was apparent that they were attracted to members of their own sex too...

Oh God, she was still touching herself. Her skirt had bunched around her waist, her breast had fallen free of her bra and blouse and her hands were moving faster. Her forefinger joined her thumb on her nipple and began to roll and tug on it. The fingers rubbing against her open slit moved faster and faster. Her index finger found her clit and ground the sheer nylon against it.

As her body built to its climax more pictures flooded her brain. She saw her two students nude, licking each other on top of the massive desk she had nearly caught them on As spasms shot through her she bit her lip and the image changed. Now she was with them, as nude as the two eighteen year olds were. She could see herself on the desk, spread and wanton. Paris was on top of her and for a moment her fingers became the blonde girl's body and pussy grinding against her own. Her own head was tipped back. Right before her stood the long-legged brunette. Those legs were parted and she fastened her mouth onto the dampness of Rory's pussy.

Angelina smothered a squeal as the saliva in her mouth became Rory's juices and the flood between her legs became a mixture of her own nectar mingling with that of Paris. Her body bucked violently. Her heels drummed a staccato rhythm on the floor as she struggled not to cry out when her orgasm triggered.

The older woman's body relaxed bit by bit as her breathing returned to normal. She slumped back into her chair and then realized just how wet her bottom and thighs were. She sprang up, hastily kicked off her heels and then stripped off her pantyhose.

What was she going to clean up with? Thank goodness her classes were finished fro the day. She could hide out here until all the students were gone and then make a break for her car. With luck no one would notice that she had nothing on under her skirt.

Failing to find anything else she dabbed her soaked pussy with her pantyhose. After all, they were already quite wet around the middle. She rubbed herself with the still dry lower legs, sitting on the edge of her desk as she did.

Oh my, that felt good. She looked down as she pressed the nylon a bit harder against herself. Was that a blonde or a brunette head she thought she could see for a moment between her legs? She pictured first Paris and then Rory, each in turn kneeling in front of her and licking her pussy. Oh myyyyyyy. The voices in the hall broke her concentration and she attempted to regain control of herself.

"Stop right there Angelina Peters!" she told herself sternly. Regardless of their attractiveness, regardless of their sexual orientation, regardless of the yearning she had felt deep inside her, regardless of ANYTHING at all; these were her students and she was a teacher and she WOULD behave as not only her professional but her personal standards bade her to behave.

She hoped.

(Next, Rory and Paris discuss Ms. Peters.)

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