CONTENT WARNINGS--large age difference, same-sex marriage, and student-teacher dynamic. If this is not something you enjoy reading about, please skip this story!!
For everyone else...as always, this story takes place long ago during a time where cell phones and computers aren't a thing. Marriage is mentioned here, but this takes place during a time when people had to hide being gay/lesbian. I hope you enjoy reading this--please don't forget to vote and check out my other stories!
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They were alone together one night, Shari and Velma, laughing and enjoying each other's company. They shared kisses and secrets, growing the bond between student and her former teacher. Safe in the shroud of diffuse light from the nightstand, shadows cast against the wall melded together, undulating and swaying hypnotically while they stood there beside the bed in the room they shared since their "marriage" was, at long last, consummated a few months earlier. The wordless language of love was spoken freely here, though in bursts. An errant gasp told Velma she was on the right track when her mouth made contact with Shari's graceful neck. She tenderly brushed aside the torrent of light blond locks, kissing her sweet young wife, this girl who was once her student.
Velma Blount's thin lips stretched wide in a conspiratorial smile as she watched the luster of Shari's satin robe part like the shimmering waves of a wine colored sea. In a quiet swish, the garment slipped away and disappeared in the darkness somewhere. Shari stared back at the tall butch woman. The thick eyebrows, hollow cheeks and lines etched deeply in the weathered face staring back at her looked alarming to most people. But Shari wasn't fazed. She was lost in her lover's hoary blue eyes. College classes, her part-time job, and her friends all faded away in that frosty gaze. All that remained, and all that mattered now, were the secrets she and Velma were about to share.
In this moment, between heartfelt kisses and solemn vows of love, Shari Keefer felt like she's known Velma forever. It wasn't so long ago when the now 21 year old Blake College student was cowed by the formidable presence of Miss Velma Blount. She attended, and graduated, from Talcott High School. Miss Blount was her gym teacher. The formidable woman towered over her students at an intimidating 6'2". She was arguably one of the most respected teachers, not just in the building, but the entire district. Miss Blount had a presence about her that commanded respect in most and instilled fear in others.
And Shari Keefer was drawn to her, although she wasn't at first. The locker rooms, gym, playing fields and tennis courts were little fiefdoms. Miss Blount was the tyrant, ruling these spaces with an iron fist. Like calisthenics, every gym class was conducted with militaristic precision. Old Miss Blount stood, grim sentinel that she was, clipboard in hand, watching Shari and her classmates file into the gym from the locker room. The towering gym teacher blew the whistle that always dangled from the lanyard around her neck (besides a wristwatch, it was the only jewelry she ever wore).
Thweeeeeeeet!
"Late again, Keefer!" Miss Blount snarled. "What's your excuse this time?"
The 19 year old senior shrugged and flashed a winsome smile at the dour woman. A ripple of nervous giggles and laughter erupted from a couple girls standing nearby. "Geez, Miss Blount, I--"
"You know what, Keefer, just CAN IT!" Miss Blount snapped. "I don't want to hear it!" The prodigious woman let out an exasperated sigh. The short, blunt locks of her bowl cut shimmied as she furiously scribbled something into her grade book. Her hair, the color of light sand, distracted Shari while she looked on. The style made her look more severe; more butch. Her classmates thought it looked stupid, and would loudly say so from time to time. Usually in the safe chaos of the halls or the cafeteria during lunch, away from the earshot of any nosy teachers.
"What are you writing? I just dropped my bracelet on the stairs and I realized I had to go to the bathroom!" The laughter was contagious. It spread quickly, bouncing off the glazed brick walls and polished wood floor.
Thweeeeeeeet!
"Okay, ladies, that's ENOUGH!" Miss Blount bellowed. "Ten laps, Keefer, and if you give me any more lip, I'll add a couple dozen pushups to get my point across!" Shari's mouth fell open. She was about to say something when the whistle pierced her eardrums again. "HUSTLE!"
"Ol' Miss Blount had about enough of you to last a lifetime, girl!" Adele Hopson shouted. The slender, sable-skinned senior laughed and held up her middle finger to Miss Blount's back, provoking another outburst of laughter. "What--I didn't do anything!" She protested before muttering: "You ol' ugly white bulldyke bitch!" More howls of laughter echoed through the gym, but Shari wasn't paying any attention. She'd already started her laps.
It was during times like these when Shari found herself stealing glimpses of her gym teacher. Sometimes those glimpses were brief. Other times, the glimpses developed into outright stares provoked by an intense mixture of fascination and disgust over her teacher's unusual appearance. Miss Blount wasn't just masculine; she was downright homely! And she was old, although, at the time, Shari wasn't sure of her age. Plenty of her classmates' parents attended Talcott as teenagers and said she was a teacher back then.
Over several months, they developed a rapport. It wasn't intentional, and at first, it started out fairly casual. Shari already had a habit of coming to class late or "forgetting" to put on her gym suit. The waist-hugging one piece suit with elastic leg shorts was made for modesty; the bane of every teenage girl trying to catch the eye of any cute guys passing by. She was supposed to keep it in her locker and take it home to wash it at the end of each week. But she'd forget and plead for lenience and this would always end up with Shari having to complete a make-up session running laps in the gym during lunch or after school to avoid turning a B- or C+ into a D or E.
Back in the present, Shari felt a sudden bloom of heat in her cheeks when she felt Velma's hand against her face. "You've been awful quiet since dinner." The older woman observed. "Still a little shy too. Something on your mind?" The bedroom was dark, but the light cast from the hallway that shone in a long thin ribbon was enough to see the bashful little grin on the girl's face. It was faint, but it was there. Shari shook her head and said: "Just thinking."