Chelsea's Story - My Diary, Chapter 1

by Tekoleslita

This is me.

Hello

My name is Chelsea. My friends all call me Chelse, though. And, that is OK. Chelsea sounds so grown up. I'm only 10. I'm in sixth grade, almost. My mom says I'm smart but I don't know, really, if I am. I suppose it really doesn't matter. When I grow up I want to be a writer. Novels, short stories, that kinda thing. I have also written a few poems. My friends say they aren't really poems since they don't rhyme. I try to tell them not all poems rhyme. They laugh. But, I have read poems that don't rhyme so I know more about poems than they do.

This is a writing project. No, not for school. I'm writing this for the Internet. Really, I am writing this to Daddy's Little Slut Muffin. On her site she says she will talk with people who write stories. So, I'm writing this for her. And for me. (Did you know that she is a mom with 2 kids? And that her husband knows she writes stories for the Internet? Boy, would I like to have them for my parents. And I would have a brother and a sister, too. Tee Hee) If you don't know about Daddy's Little Slut Muffin then you don't know about the stories she writes. A lot of them are almost about me. I mean, what she writes about is stuff I know a lot about. When I discovered her it was like a storm rushed over me. And, I don't feel like I am a weirdo or all alone out here. So, I wanted to know more about me. I read her stories and a bunch of other ones and I decided that this might be a place to talk with other people about me. You know, about my feelings. And a couple of people I know.

I suppose I ought to tell you something about myself. Like I said, I'm 10 years old. I'm a girl. I 'm 4 feet and 6 inches tall. I have dark brown hair and, since my mom says we come from gypsies, my skin is dark. Janice says its olive colored. I'm a good student. I have friends (not the kind I can talk about this stuff, though). Most of my friends are girls, of course. Boys are kinda icky, if you know what I mean. Most of this stuff and some pictures I had on Facebook. Until my mom found out and made me give it up. I'm sorta skinny but Janice (she's my friend) says my legs are really pretty. She likes the real small hairs I have on them. I can't wait until I can shave them smooth. I like music, pretty much stuff that comes from the 80s. Lots of love songs. I listen to them on the cable music channel. Like I said, I like to write. And, I like to take walks, most often alone. I have an iPod and I just like to listen to my music when I'm walking around. My favorite clothes are my jeans (I have a bunch of pairs), Tee shirts, hoodies when it gets cold, I wear Sketchers and I have a pair of really nice leather boots that go all the way up to my knees. They are black and they are really cool. I like wearing white socks. They don't cost much and they go with just about everything I wear unless I am wearing gators.

So, what am I writing about? Me, of course. But, not in a silly way. For me this is real serious.

Janice, who I told you about already, is my BFF. (That means Best Friend Forever, in case you don't know much about texting). Oh, yeah, I have a neat cell phone that is great for texting. I do a lot of that. And, it has a camera and video camera, too. (giggles)

About Janice. Up until about a month ago, I was in love with her. I know that maybe sounds weird but it's true. Come to think about it though, you probably don't think it's freaky since you already read about this stuff here. Duh. Well, my feelings were pretty strong. (They still kinda are) And Janice doesn't know, I don't think. We never talked about it. But, I've always liked girls. And women in the magazines and on the Internet.

Which gets me to why I am writing this to Daddy's Little Slut Muffin (that name is sooo cute). It's not just about my feelings toward Janice. It's what happened to me that make the whole Janice thing very confusing. (Oh, grrrr, stomp stomp stomp, this is hard for me!)

About a month ago, I had to stay after school and catch up on some schoolwork. It was for Ms. Hannigan, my teacher. She's soooo pretty. She has short brown hair and she always wears loafers with pennies in them and white knee socks. Well, not always, but sometimes. She also wears scotch plaid skirts and white blouses. She told me it was her "uniform", and then she laughed. She is young, too. I think just out of college

Well, on that day when I stayed after school that's what she was wearing. I put my head down on my desk for a minute to take a rest and that is when I saw it. Her, really. She was at her desk in the front of the room. She had her ankles crossed and her knees wide open and I could see her panties. Wow! They were pink. Why I don't know, but for some reason, at that moment, I got the tinglies. You know, those cute little feelings especially down in your privates? Suddenly, Ms. Hannigan became very sexy to me. It was a rush and it startled me. I closed my eyes and began to daydream - on purpose - about Ms. Hannigan. Being naked. Those tinglies weren't so tingly any more. They were like big waves on the beach. I found that I was breathing very hard and fast. And, down around my privates I was getting real damp.

"Chelsea? Are you OK?" Ms. Hannigan was talking to me and looking at me, too. I looked up, embarrassed I guess, and went totally red, I'm sure. It was like I could hardly get any words out of my mouth.

"Yeah, I'm OK."

She pushed her chair back and came around her desk walking right toward me.

"You were breathing so hard, honey. Do you have asthma or something?"

Yeah, I thought. I certainly do have something. "No, I'm OK."

She was standing next to me, her plaid skirt coming to an end and then her bare knees and then her knee socks and loafers. My mouth got all dry. I couldn't say anything. I remember just noticing how cute her knees were. I was dying right there.

Then, she bent over me and put her hand up on my forehead. She held it there for a long time. Then, she slipped her hand under my hair that had fallen down over my face and really gently pushed it back over my ear. And, then she petted me. Like I was a puppy. It wasn't bad. It was just, different. I closed my eyes again. She just stayed there and stroked my hair, running her fingers through it.

I opened my eyes again and blinked. She was there, now she was kneeling back on her heels next to me. I took a quick breath: I could see right up her skirt, again. Only, this time she was soooo close. I started to breathe fast again and closed my eyes. That strong rushing feeling was coming back. I couldn't help myself. I slipped my left hand down under my desk and began to press the zipper on my jeans ... hard against my private place.

(Hi, I'm back. I had to pee, get a PB&J and a Zero Coke. I needed a break. Just writing this was exciting me. lol (that's texting for 'laughing out loud'). I just read what I wrote and got excited again. But I also saw that I was using my old words. Like 'private part". I have read enough here to know that there are other words. They are cute and I think they are sexy, too. Like 'pussy' and 'clitty'. So, I'm gonna use those words now. I hope you don't mind. So, back to my story.)

So, Ms. Hannigan was kneeling there, with her panties showing and stroking my hair when she said "Come with me, Chelse." And she took me by my right arm and sorta helped me stand up, out of the seat. My left hand was still on my private place – er – my pussy. (giggles)

"Let's go to the nurse's office. There's a cot there and you can lie down for a bit." I think she saw my left hand. But, she didn't say anything. She just sorta put her arm under mine and we walked to the office.

We went in. Nobody was there behind the desk. And the office doors were all shut. Everyone went home, I guess. We just walked down this little hallway to the nurse's station. There were four small rooms with blue curtains over the doorways. Inside each one was a chair and a cot with a mattress and pillow and a flimsy white blanket.

"Here, sweet heart, lie down for a little while." I did and she unfolded the blanket and laid it over me. She pulled the chair over and sat down next to me. She looked so pretty and maybe a little sad. She began stroking my hair again. She leaned over with the heels of her loafers hanging on the chair thingy that keeps it from falling apart. And, there were those cute knees again. And, I could see down between her legs again and see her pink panties. I began to breathe hard again.

"Oh, baby doll. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

YES, I wanted to scream. YES ... I just don't know exactly what, though.

I looked up into her deep green eyes. I took a deep breath and whispered "Just don't leave me, OK?"

I hadn't noticed until now that her eyes were green and she was so pretty, so cute, really. I gazed at her and saw that her white blouse was unbuttoned down two buttons. And, I could see her chest. There was a gold chain she wore almost all the time. There was an odd little something that hung there on the chain. She told me later that it was a Lambda symbol. A Greek letter I think she said.

She leaned in a little closer and Wow! I could see down her blouse. I could see her boobies. At least as far as her bra would let me. She doesn't have big boobies. They really are small. I mean there are some girls at school who have humongous boobs.

I was just lying there, getting all excited when she put her lips next to my ear and whispered "Chelsea, you are so beautiful, I can't take my eyes off of you."

I just lay there still and quiet and ... confused. Then, she put a little kiss on my cheek. She was breathing hard now, too. And, I could smell her. She smelled like what it must smell like in heaven. And, she was nervous. Her hands had a little shake in them. She closed her eyes and let her head drop down to her chest. A little while passed when I heard her sniff. Was she crying, I asked myself? Then a couple of tears rolled down her cheeks and fell onto her blouse. She put her hand on mine and squeezed it very gently.

"Chelsea, I am sorry. I am so sorry." She was whispering really low and quiet. "I should not have done that. I should not have told you that. I should not have kissed you. It was wrong. I am so sorry. Please, forgive me. Please."

This brought me to attention. Why was she apologizing? It felt OK to me. It really felt natural, you know?

I put my left hand on hers, which was on my right hand, and just let it stay there. She looked up at me. I smiled at her. And she sort of smiled back.

"Ms. Hannigan, you don't need to say you're sorry to me. It's OK. I liked it."

Then, it hit me.

"Ms. Hannigan. Don't take it away from me, OK? It was really nice. It was special, wasn't it?"

Ms. Hannigan looked at me, so sweetly, and whispered "Yes Chelsea, it was. Very special."

We just stayed there, looking at each other for a minute. Then, Ms. Hannigan asked me a question.

"Would you feel OK, like when we are alone, when no other kids or grownups around, you could call me Tracy? That's my first name. It sounds funny to me when you call me Ms. Hannigan. It sounds really formal. And, Chelse, I don't want to be formal with you. I want to be natural. Like we're friends."

Holy Hanna Montana! What was happening? Friends? Like we were both grownups? Like we were equals not just a teacher and any ol' student? I didn't know what to say. It was like we were very close together, if you know what I mean. Almost like we were the only ones on the planet. Ms. Hannig ... ah ... Tracy ... and I had somehow created this new world. And, it was all new. It was like we were explorers. My heart started racing. I was getting excited, you know, not in a sexy way but like when you go on vacation? I wanted us to pack up our backpacks and get moving, to see where we were and what was there to discover!