During high school, there was a social studies teacher, let’s call her Ms. R. later, I go to call her Jane. I was in her class first semester senior year. She had just turned 35 during the time I was in her class. Sweet southern accent, strawberry blondish hair, not unattractive at all, in fact damn hot for 35. Of course, that’s from the perspective of a 17 year old. 35 would look pretty damn good to me now…
Nothing ever happened or was even hinted at while I was in school, just a nice teacher that a lot of people liked but most never gave a second thought to. There were teachers that the guys talked about, mostly younger and more typical of what a 17 year-old would talk about.
About 2 weeks after graduation, I was in the next town, running errands for my mom, and I saw a car pulled over in this residential neighborhood with a flat tire. Being a guy, and admittedly with ulterior motives, I checked as I drove by to see if I could be of help. Meaning to see if it was a woman or a man in distress.
Well, guess who I see standing fiddling in her trunk with the spare tire? Her spare was flat, so I ended up giving her a lift to the gas station where we checked and filled it, drove back to her car, changed the thing then followed her to drop the flat off to get repaired.
As we were leaving the gas station that was fixing the flat, she stopped me, and tried to give me some cash for my trouble. I declined, because I just didn’t feel right taking her money. The whole thing took maybe 30 minutes, and as it turned out, away from school, she was a whole different person - actually a hoot to be around.
So she says, well then let me at least offer you a lemonade or something. Ok, I can take that, and follow her to her house. Nice little brick ranch house about a mile away. We go in back, sit on the porch, drink lemonade and talk about 30 minutes when out of the blue she just starts in on how good I look all sweaty working on her car, and by the way, what do I think of her? I think it was roughly something like “So, what do you think of this 35 year old body, not too shabby huh?”
I was honest, but kind of wierded out, and told her yeah she looked very nice, I guess I never took the time to notice before.
LIAR LIAR LIAR
Next thing I knew, she took me inside, saying it was too hot here in the sun, and we were on her couch all locked up together. I stayed there about 2 hours, and made 3 more visits during the summer before I went off to college. After the second visit, she confided in me that her and my old football coach, who I despised, were having an affair. Ok, so she wasn’t a paragon of virtue that weakened at the sight of young/studly me, but more likely just a horny old broad.
Still, I took and I enjoyed. And I make no apology for it now.
Fast forward 23 years, I’m back in the same town. Bus Kid starts at my old high school, and guess who’s the Dean of Students? Ever see the dean blush?