I have written many times here about my experiences as a professor of English at a small New England college and a few experiences about my life after that. But I also had several interesting experiences as a high school English teacher before I became a college professor, and this is one of those.
Every high school has its pair of star-crossed lovers, the Romeo and Juliet of the school as it were. And for our high school it was Ryan and Betsy. They had known each other since kindergarten, they had become close friends in middle school, and they had become "fast friends" in high school if you know what I mean—and I think you do.
Both of them were attractive young people. Ryan was slender, dark-haired and captain of the track team. Betsy was about five-eight with long blonde hair that she usually wore in a Scandinavian-type thick single braid and pale blue eyes. She also had a beautiful face and a lithe dancer's figure. Best of all, both of them were very smart A-list students, and now in their senior year, both planned to go to the same state university.
I don't know exactly when they became "friends with benefits"; probably in their junior year, but it could have been in their sophomore year. Kids today, they grow up so fast. But it was apparent from the intimacy of their touches and caresses that they knew each other's bodies quite well.
They were often called down about it, and several teachers had told them to "get a room", which when you think about it was a very irresponsible suggestion, since while they were 18, they still were just students. Personally, I found their touches and caresses to be quite charming, and I certainly did not mind their engaging in them in my classroom. They knew that I felt that way about them.
When they were walking down the hall together and ascended the six steps to the upper level, it was common for Ryan to caress Betsy's lovely jean-clad bottom. Like most students, they wore mostly jeans and for the girls skimpy tops that showed about three inches of skin between the jeans and the tops. But also, in Betsy's case, the worn jeans were so pale and thin that it was obvious that underneath them, she was either wearing pantyhose—unlikely—or nothing at all. I guessed it was the latter, and I enjoyed following them up the hall as often as I could.
Now, we were in the last week of their high school life. Graduation was only a week away. Betsy came into my classroom one day during the lunch break. She was dressed in her thin jeans and a skimpy yellow shirred top.
"Mr. Baxter, can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked.
"Of course. I always have a minute—or much more—for you."
She sat down at the chair beside my desk. "I just wanted to tell you that since you've been so nice to Ryan and me in the past three years, we're really going to miss you."
"Well, I will miss the both of you too," I replied. "But that's true every year: You lose some students that you really hate to see go."
"A lot of the other teachers acted like we were committing some kind of a crime just by being affectionate with each other, but you always said you thought it was charming."
"Yes, I did."
"It was not like we were having actual sex in the classroom," she said indignantly.
"No, of course not." But I thought how nice that would have been.
"So since you were such a good friend to us, I was wondering if you would like to have a couple of pictures of Ryan and me to remember us by?"
"Yes, of course. I would love that."
"Okay, here they are. We took them with my new digital camera using the self timer, and I printed them out on my printer at home." I wondered why she was giving me these technical details, as she handed me a 6 by 8 manila envelope. "But don't look at them until I leave."
"Okay."
She stood up. "We still have four more days, so we'll see you in class."
"Right." And she left. I watched the sheer denim of her lovely bottom until she was out the door.
Then I opened the envelope. The first 5 x 7 picture was of the two of them standing side by side with their arms around each other in what appeared to be a woodland path, probably in the nearby state park. In the second picture, they were in the same place but turned to each other, embracing and kissing. Very cute. I didn't see how anyone could object to anything like that.
But it was the third picture that caught my attention—and explained the technical details. She had been telling me that these were not pictures that were developed in any local drugstore photo lab. The pose was exactly the same as the previous picture, the setting was exactly the same. The one difference was that both of them were stark naked—and pressed tightly against each other as they kissed. Wow! I looked at it for a long time.
Then I went to the fourth picture. It was taken in what appeared to be her bedroom. A lot of girl stuff in other words. I knew that both of her parents worked during the day, so she had the house to herself when she came home from school. And now I knew what she had been doing with that time. Ryan, naked, was lying face up in the center of her single bed. Betsy, also naked, was lying sideways to his lower right with his penis in her hand. Or rather the bottom half of his penis. The top half was in her mouth. Wow and double wow!
I looked up at the wall, wondering why I had been the lucky recipient of these pictures? Finally, I got to the fifth and last picture. Ryan was still lying naked on the bed, only this time Betsy, still naked, was straddling him and facing the camera. And she was completely impaled on his penis, their pubic hairs mingling. She had a big smile on her face, and I could see from her little tuft of maidenhair that she was a real blonde. Wow and triple wow!
But I knew that this sort of forbidden behavior could not go unreported or unpunished, so the next day, I called both of them into my office after school.
