"Crap," groaned Donnie, lowering himself on his stool so brutally it was a wonder the entire bar didn't turn to stare at him, his attempt at being inconspicuous not help by him holding up the lapels of his leather jacket as if it was a successful disguise outside cartoons and bad sit-coms.
"What?" asked Karl, his best buddy and literal partner in crime, given that the ID cards in their pockets were forgeries that showed their ages as twenty five rather than their real age of eighteen.
"It's Mrs Lane," Donnie whispered, as if she would be able to hear him above the noughties music and sound of couple's conversations, "What the fuck is she doing here?"
As it was a singles club, which had a reputation as being a place for easy pick-ups and with free entry tonight for over-thirty women, Karl had a pretty good idea. It was the reason why he and Donnie were here, the forged IDs needed as the club didn't want loads of guys just out of college who couldn't hold their drink putting off the more discerning clients who were looking for some easy sex, not a drunk who'd collapse asleep in the cab home. However Karl was pretty confident that he and Donnie could hold their booze, even if they hadn't quiet yet graduated High School and as the cheerleader squad and half the Math class could testify, they could also fuck. It did, however, complicate their evening plans, to find a couple of divorced Milfs and go to their places to bang them, if one of their teachers was also prowling the premises and knew exactly how old they were.
Karl casually swung on his stool, hopefully she was over in a corner, a guy already having caught her eye and she'd be engrossed with them all night, missing the fact two of her students were sitting by the bar waiting for a couple of suitably hot Moms to materialise before them. It didn't seem he'd be in luck, she was standing in the middle of the floor with a cocktail in her hand, glancing around a little shyly as if she wanted to catch guy's eyes but couldn't quiet work up the nerves for it. She was also definitely dressed up as if she was looking for sex, it wasn't that she accidentally wandered in off the street and seeing it was a pick-up bar would be downing her drink and heading somewhere more salubrious.
She was the stuff of dreams, even though her appearance was also a nightmare which threatened to ruin the plans of the two teenagers. As a teacher Mrs Lane had to be in the top three fantasised about (and Sexy Lexy, Miss Lexington, who was number one, was just barely out of college), but here in the bar, she looked even better. Her dress was low cut, to show more of her cleavage than she ever showed in class, the sides made up off netting so that you could see bare flesh through the mesh; her heels accentuated her legs and the red lipstick was deep and dark, sexualising her mouth and make it look ripe for kissing and other things. Unluckily (or not, as it turned out,) even as he was looking at the brunette, Miss Lane was turning towards him and Donnie, a quick flash of recognition crossing her face as she saw them. For a moment she paused, before starting to walk across the bar towards them.
Karl repeated his friend's comment, "Crap."
*
It wasn't Susan Lane's night. With three children between the age of eight and fifteen she seldom got the chance to get out, but this weekend had proved the exception with her ex-husband taking them all away camping with his new family. It had given her children the opportunity to bond with their step-siblings and step-Mom and Susan the chance to go to a singles bar to picking up a guy to fuck her brains out. However it had quickly started to go wrong, the neighbouring attractive widow, who was due to go out with her had got a migraine and pulled out, in turn without a 'wing woman' she'd found herself standing aimlessly trying to catch the attention of guys who were either already hooked up or were with their own wingmen and only looking for women in pairs. To make the bad night worse, as she'd been trying to get the eye of a good looking guy with increasing desperation, she'd noticed Karl and his buddy Donald, at the bar.
Normally she wouldn't have minded. Strictly speaking the bar's rules said 'Twenty five plus' only, but she took the view as long as they weren't going totally wild, they were Seniors and it wasn't up to her to enforce club rules. Anyway she couldn't say that the two eighteen year olds weren't choice eye-candy, both six foot and with muscular frames and firm bodies; Donald, with dark skin showing his mixed heritage and with the easy going charm which meant his excuses for late homework assignments were always forgiven and Karl, a blonde action man almost out of central casting for a young Navy SEAL and if not quite a straight A student, close. In her twenty years teaching Susan had learnt to listen to just the right amount of school gossip, enough to head off trouble with the kids before it exploded, not so much that you found yourself enthralled by the latest development of which Junior had fucked which Sophomore at a party. With Karl and Donald the stories were of their sexual prowess; she wasn't quiet sure which Juniors [and Freshmen, Sophomores and fellow Seniors] they'd fucked at parties, but she knew that over the last few years it was a lot.
Their reputations explained why they were here in a pick-up Club, as they were obviously expanding their repertoire to include older women. However, as a mature woman herself, though hopefully still a hot one, there was only one explanation of why she was here and it wasn't one she wanted her students to know about. It was too late however, even as she'd been trying to find someone, anyone to talk to (even someone fat, balding and with bad breath), one of the only two people she was desperately trying to avoid turned and looked at her. There was no way she could pretend she hadn't seen him nor him her, as he was automatically slumping into his seat as he and the rest of the male students did when she asked a question which was too hard to answer. Gritting her teeth into a smile, she walked towards them, perhaps if she was open and friendly she could brush it off as just a chance encounter in a bar she'd walked into and forestall the gossip which would be round the Senior Year by Monday.
"Hello boys," she said as she approached them, "I didn't expect to see you two here; it seems a much older crowd." Go in friendly and approachable, she thought, you know them but don't act like a teacher, they may just believe that you've just come in and don't know the bar's reputation.
"Hi Mrs Lane," they chorused like she was standing in front of the class, about to start a lecture on early twentieth century poets. That wasn't good, not if she wanted them to be relaxed and receptive to her suggestions this was a chance meeting in a perfectly normal bar that she wouldn't mention, in school, if they didn't. Perhaps it needed something to show it wasn't a classroom where they needed to look up to her, but somewhere outside of school where they were all equal, just a couple of guys and a gal acquaintances who'd bumped into each other for five minutes, no big deal...
She glanced down, their glasses were half-full, but they'd probably not say no to a friendly refill. "Would you like a drink?" she asked in a friendly tone.
They both looked surprised, but accepted as she ordered two beers and a white wine and soda for herself. "Thanks Miss," said Donald.
She took a seat between them, "You don't need to be so formal, we're outside school hours, you can call me Susan." That was good idea, she thought, push up the casualness, make it less like a student-teacher interaction.
The two guys looked across her at each other, then back to her. "Okay Miss... Susan," said Donald, "but call me Donnie, I'm only called Donald by you and my parents."
That wasn't true, Susan thought, all the teachers called him Donald, not just her, but it was an easy adjustment, she'd just have to remember to call him Donald when they were back in the class on Monday. She nodded, "Donnie, it is." She sipped her wine, "It's nice to unwind away from school, the kids are with their Dad this weekend, it's the perfect opportunity to go and have a quick drink."
"You come here often?" asked Karl, giving her the perfect opening.
