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I ran out into the hall and kicked the guns away from the downed supposed FBI men, seeing that all had head wounds, then knelt beside the other deputy. He was groaning, but alive. He had taken a round in his thigh that was bleeding pretty well. I ripped open his pants to see a long rip across the outer skin. I finished ripping his pants up and used it to wrap the wound until he could get medical treatment.I asked Bud, "You okay? Where's Jim?"Bud looked at me and said, "I'm okay. Being hit in the chest at that range hurts like hell. This guy is just knocked out. He'll be okay. It doesn't look like he has any more wounds."I asked again, "Where's Jim?" Oh yeah, he's downstairs holding a couple of guys that said they were FBI, but no one knew them, so we got the drop on them and he's holding them, along with a couple of real agents. This place is crawling with all kinds of law, along with some that are trying to act like they are too."Bud produced a tactical radio and called, "Jim, when. That was when things got exciting. She would come close to me, telling stories about her family or college days when she met her husband, who was the school's PE teacher. I listened while thinking to myself how even though she was in her early thirties she acted like she was just a college girl and a good looking one at that. Knowing that her husband was just down the hall in the gym kept me from letting my thoughts go too far down that college girl vision, but I could only control myself so much. About one month after starting the volunteer work it started to get fun. One afternoon she was putting books away in the class library while talking to me across the class room where I was simply entering grades at her desk. She squatted down, in order to reach the lowest bookshelf, staying on her toes and slowly lowered her tight ass just inches off the ground. If she was planning on teasing me it worked because as her pants pulled tight I got a perfect view of her thong and smooth tan.
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