Did you ever turn on the news expecting to see something about Egypt or Afghanistan and see a national newscaster talking about your hometown? And not just your hometown but the apartment complex where you lived and the high school where your wife was a teacher!
Well that happened to me six months ago when I was on a business trip to San Diego. My name is Paul Morgan and my wife, Chris, is an English teacher at Central High in our community in upstate New York. We got married right out of college six years ago. Chris was kinda wild in college but she settled down and made a great wife. I found a good job with a national computer company and I have had two promotions since I started with them. Our marriage is a happy one.
We live in a very nice apartment complex with a gym and indoor pool and a great group of people. The manager of our complex, Bill Zinneman, is a capable and friendly guy about fifty years old and divorced. We often have a drink together at Charlie's Bar across the street. And Bill's name was featured prominently in the news report that was so shocking.
I called Chris that Friday night and she filled me in on what happened. She sounded real strange but that was not surprising considering what had happened. The story was simple but outrageous.
Bill Zinneman was checking an air conditioner that had malfunctioned and he discovered a stack of eight by ten color photographs. The pictures showed two women, both teachers at Central High in various poses naked and having sex with five male students from Central High. The apartment belonged to one of the gals in the pictures.
When I got back that Saturday evening, Chris was relaxed and pleasant and not nearly as upset as I expected. I think she may have taken some puffs off a joint. She filled me in on the details. The teachers were friends of hers. The students came to the apartment a couple of afternoons each week, smoked pot, and had sex with the teachers.
I had followed the story as closely as I could, although I had to leave on business trips several times. Chris always saved the papers for me. After a couple of weeks the news died down but Chris kept me informed from gossip at the school.
The parents didn't want the boys to testify in court and I could understand that. Everybody was lawyered up and nobody was talking. But the pictures provided all the evidence necessary. It still took several months while they argued about the exact charges, but finally the District Attorney accepted a plea bargain and the teachers went to prison.
I had a chance to hear more from Bill Zinneman as we were regulars at Charlie's Bar. Apparently the pictures had been really graphic with the gals getting fucked in every position and giving blowjobs as well. Sometimes sucking a cock and getting fucked at the same time and sometimes taking it up the ass. Those were really wild parties.
He laughed and joked about it and after my initial shock I laughed with him. We both regretted not having teachers like that when WE were in high school.
Meanwhile I got a job offer from our branch in San Diego. It was a good offer and Chris kept urging me to take it but I was having a tough time making up my mind. School had let out for the summer and Chris pointed out that this would make the move easier.
My world came crashing down one Saturday afternoon about six months after the whole thing started. I was updating my spreadsheet when Chris came in looking very serious.
"We have to talk," she said. "And I think we both need a drink first."
"Can it wait till I finish this spreadsheet?" I asked.
Chris looked at her watch and shook her head. "No. It can't wait. I've put this off as long as I can."
What the hell was this about I wondered? She looked really serious.
She poured us each a double shot of single malt scotch and added a little water. We sat on the couch in the study next to the master bedroom. She wasted no time finishing her drink and then she told me an incredible story.
"This is very hard to tell you. I was hoping we would move to San Diego and I wouldn't have to, but it's too late now. That Friday morning, six months ago, when the police came to the school to arrest those teachers, I knew it was going to happen. And I was afraid that I might be arrested with them. I was terrified!"
"You see," she continued, "it was THREE teachers at those sex parties, not just two. The boys' lawyers never let them testify under oath. Nobody talked, so it never came out. That third teacher was me."
I finished the rest of my scotch in one gulp. I started to pour another and then didn't because I told myself I'd better stay sober. But the pictures Bill Zinneman and I had laughed about in Charlie's Bar started flashing through my head and they were no longer funny − they were very ugly.
"Jesus! You had sex parties with high school boys?"
She nodded her head and said softly, "Yes."
"Why the hell did you do that?" I yelled.
"I don't know," she said, almost whispering. "I really don't."
"At least tell me how it got started," I said.
This was so incredible I had trouble believing it. How could my wife have done this?
She dropped her head and stared at the floor and mumbled out the story. It was ugly.
"It started off with us getting high to relieve some of the tension we were having at school with the new curriculum the state put in. After a hard day at school, Lois and I went to Carolyn's apartment to smoke pot. It helped us relax. I didn't for a single minute intend it to end up the way it did. It just did and ... well you know how I am when I get high. I lose control."
"Yeah I know you do," I said.
"Well, one afternoon two kids knocked on the door after we were stoned and Carolyn let them in. Both were in my Honors English class. I have no idea WHY they stopped by. As I think back my guess is that they had been there before. Shit! Carolyn was almost forty − over twice their age!"
"Anyway, they got stoned with us and Carolyn took them both into the bedroom and left the door open. She stripped down buck-naked for them and one guy started fuckin her while the other guy watched and waited his turn. The way they were acting I'm sure she'd fucked 'em before. I should have walked out right then, but I didn't."
"Why didn't you?" I asked.
"I don't know. Because I was stoned I guess. Anyway Lois watched Carolyn fuck for a while and then she went in and stripped down and started to fuck the other guy. I don't think she had done that before. She was just stoned out of her mind."
"I was stoned out of my gourd too and you know how horny I get when I'm stoned. I don't remember how it happened − darling I really don't − but the next thing I knew I was fucking this kid from my Honors English class."
Didn't know how it happened? Bullshit! It happened because she wanted to fuck! When she got stoned she fucked like a mink. That's how I fucked her in college and I know several other guys that got her stoned so she'd fuck. Jesus! Is she still doing that?
"The next week three guys showed up after I was real stoned and I fucked all three of them. Just fucked 'em one after the other. It sounds hard to believe but I was having orgasms big time fucking high school kids!"
"Why didn't you quit going to Carolyn's apartment?" I asked.
"I don't know," she said. "After those three guys I just felt trapped. And pretty soon it was five guys and the fifth guy was a picture taker and could print out color pictures on his Dad's computer. After the sex got started he'd take pictures."
"He always cleaned up his camera and his Dad's computer after he printed the pictures so his Dad never found them. It went on for about four months, usually twice a week, before Bill found the pictures in that air conditioner where Carolyn hid them."
"So you kept going back for four months even when you knew you'd get fucked after you got stoned. Why did you do that?" I asked.
"I don't know. I really don't know. I felt trapped somehow. Just compelled to go back," she said almost pathetically.
Trapped hell I thought. She wanted to fuck!
"And you fucked those kids for several hours?" I mumbled, astonished by what I had heard her say. "What did you do?"
"You really don't wanna hear that," she said.
"Yeah! I really DO want to hear that," I responded.
She looked down at the floor and said very softly, "Okay. There were five of 'em and each one wanted to do all three teachers every time. It was a macho thing to do three teachers in a row. So I always fucked five guys to start. I was stoned and having orgasms with each one."
"And usually several guys wanted seconds with me and the other girls. An eighteen year-old peter gets hard again real fast after it spurts and it spurts a lot. There was a hell of a lot of fucking. And we did a lot of other stuff too. Stuff I don't wanna tell you about."
I knew about the stuff she didn't want to talk about. Bill and I had laughed and joked about it drinking at Charlie's Bar, when I didn't know I was laughing at my own wife. It's not so funny now.
"Twice a week?" I asked.
She nodded her head and said, "Usually twice. Sometimes only once."
I just sat there in shock at what she told me. Then it hit me and I asked, "How come the cops didn't arrest you too?"
"That's the second part of what I have to tell you. It's just as difficult to tell you as the first part. The morning he found them, Bill Zinneman separated out all the pictures that had me in them and held them back along with some of the other juicy ones. That afternoon before he turned them in to the cops, he caught me in the lobby as I came in from school. It was a Thursday. You were in San Diego."
"He took me up to his office and showed me the pictures. The deal was simple. He wouldn't turn in the pictures of me as long as I fucked him. Well, I fucked him Thursday afternoon in that bed," she said pointing to our bedroom.
