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herself repeatedly and forcefully down onto my shaft. Suddenly she made a sound as if she'd just slammed the winning point over the net and froze again, the full length of me inside her. Those final sounds and movements triggered my own orgasm, but I was so engrossed in what was happening for her that mine was little more than a pleasant afterthought. A few seconds later Anne collapsed against my chest as if someone had cut her strings, her eyes glassy from her completion. I just held her and stroked her arms and back and kissed her. She returned my kisses distractedly, as if she weren't altogether awake yet, so I continued stroking her hair and kissed her forehead and lay back to relax a bit without disturbing her. Some time later she quietly asked, "Well, what do you think of your beloved English teacher now?" "Well, I'd have to say that she's a goddess come to Earth," I said, "This was my first time ever, but I rather liked being involved." Anne giggled hysterically. "You rather liked being involved?" she quoted me. "Got a giggle out of you, didn't it? I loved every second of it. I love holding you and knowing I helped you. Don't be embarrassed." "Things can look different when the heat's gone," she said. "Heat comes and goes," I said, "Keep the memories of it." Anne pushed herself up and just stared at me for a moment, then rose off me and went to the bathroom, glancing back at me once by the door. I used the time to straighten the bed and consider what she might do. When she returned, she seemed surprised to see the bed neatened, but she said nothing as she crawled under the covers. I took a turn in the bathroom and returned to her. "No funny stuff," she said, pulling the sheet back for me, "It's already almost three in the morning. Now we sleep." I slid in behind her and planted a kiss on the back of her neck. My hand found hers and I lightly squeezed it. I kissed her again, inhaling the scent of her in the darkness, and squeezed her shoulder. "Anne," I said, "Nothing is different. Pleasing you was my greatest-ever pleasure, and there is nothing I'd rather be doing." She turned enough to kiss me and said, "I'm just a little confused right now. We'll talk in the morning, Ed." "We covered all that at the restaurant," I said, quoting myself, "Let me be anything you need for a while." "In the morning," said Anne, kissing me again, "Goodnight." My position was simple. I was a precocious misfit who fell hard for his beautiful teacher; hardly a unique event. That my teacher chose to return my attentions was unique; this I realized even as I first kissed her. Incredulity had flooded me as our lips met and it never really left me all that summer. There's much more to this story that I hadn't known at that time. Anne had money beyond her salary as a teacher or her insurance settlements. She came from a family capable of buying the town in which she taught. An inheritance in 1964 had provided her over four million dollars in various assets, including a home in Plano, Texas, that she hated. Anne was something of a black sheep in her family due to having eschewed Pennsylvania high society for a Navy pilot of average lineage. The discord resulting from their elopement had created a rift between Anne and her immediate family, but her father had been a pilot in World War Two and had eventually come to accept Frank to some degree. The two men had spent many long hours talking about changes in aircraft and the Navy since the nineteen-forties. When Anne's father died of cancer in 1964, he had requested that certain items pertaining to his wartime flying go to Anne. His leather jacket, knife, pistol, boots, medals, pictures, and documents of certification and discharge had been delivered to her by the family lawyer, along with some of the more fiscal inheritances. This disposition of such symbolic items enraged Anne's mother. Anne discovered it was no good trying to give any of them to her; the meaning of their possession could not be given with them. Her mother's rage turned to frost, and that frost had apparently not abated one whit by 1966. After several rejected attempts to mend their relationship, Anne told her mother to contact her when she came to her senses. Neither woman visited or spoke to the other except by way of the family attorney. Moving out to the farm meant that friends Anne had made while teaching or during Frank's Navy duty were all far enough away that casual visiting was out of the question. Even the closest, from Grand Prairie, would have had sense enough to call before driving more than forty miles each way. By purchasing that decrepit farm, Anne had created a place in which to hide and heal herself while also creating her own place in the world. I had somehow, very luckily, become part of Anne's healing process. I was ignorant of these things then. I viewed my position simply as a knight-errant to this lovely woman; some kind of strange and exciting temporary commission that could vanish with the light of a new day, and it was with that trepidation that I wakened Sunday morning. Chapter Five Sounds from another room woke me. A glance around the room reminded me where I was and how I'd come to be there with vivid memories of the night. I quickly rolled out of bed and dressed. My toilet kit was still on the top of the commode; I hurriedly brushed teeth and combed hair before I realized something rather fundamental. I was either still Anne's knight-errant or I was about to be taken home. There was no reason to hurry as if I were late for school; in fact, there was every reason to collect myself and be as calm about matters as possible. If Anne was still trying to decide whether or not to keep me, a stable presence might swing the vote in my favor. If she had decided to take me back to Grand Prairie, I wanted her to remember me well. Primped and prepped, I left the bedroom. Anne was in the living room, half-hidden by the end of the couch as she sorted the contents of a box of books into several piles. She wore jeans and a blouse and looked as if she'd been up for some time already. When she raised her mug to sip her coffee, she saw me and froze for an instant, then waved me over to her with the book in her other hand. As I approached her, Anne raised a hand for me to help her to her feet. She was smiling at me. I smiled back. "And how are we this morning?" she asked. "We're fine, I think," I said cautiously. "You're not sure?" she asked as we stopped by the kitchen table. "If I'm still a knight, I'm fine," I said. In the kitchen, Anne released my hand to reach into the cabinet above the coffee pot and retrieve another mug, filled it, and handed it to me. I took it, then the spoon that followed, and stirred in a little sugar. "You're still my knight," she said, taking a seat at the table and sipping her own coffee. My relief must have shown for all my efforts at composure. She smiled at me and reached for my hand again. "I thought about things this morning," said Anne, "And came to the conclusion that much of last night was just a loss of control. On my part," she added hastily, "Only on my part. There was nothing you could have done for me that you didn't do." She grimaced at her own words. Anne stared at the table for a moment or two while I stood there stirring my coffee to death. I realized that sugar dissolves only so far and stopped stirring to pull out another chair. I looked at Anne as I sat down. "I'm just very glad to be here, Anne." She looked up at me and smiled again. "Still," said Anne, "You should know that you were fired and rehired about four times this morning. I was so confused about things. Then it dawned on me that I couldn't have been in better company for a mini-nervous breakdown." "I'll write my first resume around that reference," I laughed. "No, dammit, I'm serious," she said, laughing with me. "Nothing seems to shake you. I needed that stability last night." "Maybe I just don't understand enough of whatever's going on to be scared to death at the right times." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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