While pouring coffee in the break room one morning, I got my first look at her. Being a male science teacher in the middle school, I was a little outnumbered by the other, mostly female, teachers. Several of them had interviewed Miss Northrop for the English teacher position opened months earlier. Since then, there was a non-stop flood of negative gossip about her that I couldn't completely understand. It was a little too hostile, a little too constant to come from a single job interview.
Nonetheless, for two months I heard the interview committee teachers complain that she was unqualified, unprofessional, and not a good match for our upper middle class school of future Einsteins.
Nevertheless, the principal liked her and hired her over the other ladies' objections. I knew some of them pretty well, and they were fuming. Some of them were friends of mine. We would flirt and talk between classes, but never much more. I am married, and they were married and seemed too worried about respectability to live their lives to the fullest. I had decided that we all "only live once," but we also should be safe and careful about other people's feelings. I was looking for someone to spoil rotten in bed, but it was a pity these women were so conservative.
As I poured the artery-clogging creamer into the cup I looked up and realized she was standing next to me and smiling. "It's hard to stay awake without that black tar, isn't it?" she asked.
"Absolutely. Especially if you are an evening person like me," I said.
"Amanda Northrop," she offered her hand, and we finished our greetings.
Her handshake was firm and warm, and what caught my attention: maybe a little too long. Not that I minded. She was looking great on her first day: a medium length black skirt, mocha stockings, and a white satiny blouse that was conservative, but hinted at gorgeously round full breasts. I tried not to look, but couldn't help a brief glance. Here I was: 35 years old, and mesmerized by this woman in her early fifties! It wasn't so surprising, I guess. She clearly had taken care of herself.
Suddenly she said, "Oh damn!" and ran off down the hall, obviously late for a class. I was enjoying watching her long beautiful brown hair cascade over her shoulders and bounce around, when a disapproving glance from one of the older ladies jolted me back to reality. I realized I was late for class too, and ran down the North wing, but not before accidentally relocating much of my coffee onto my shirt. The classes went well; the kids were mostly nice, but I couldn't stop wondering why all the other teachers hated Miss N.
Over the next several weeks, I bumped into Miss N. pretty often. Actually, not enough to suite me. I was beginning to realize that she had an amazing figure hiding under her professional attire. She had loosened up a little since her first day, but not too much. Even with a few age lines showing on her face, she was starting to really attract me. She always seemed to greet me warmly enough, but I just couldn't tell if we had possibilities together. I began to have a suspicion why the other ladies hated Amanda so much. Not only did she have a carefree laugh and seem generally more at ease than they were, she had something in the eyes. There was something unique about them. They were brown intelligent eyes, but they also had an intense look too, like she could be a tiger in bed. I guess you would call them "bedroom eyes".
Now that I had my hypothesis, my only choice was to test it. Hey, I'm a science teacher! I knew the other ladies fought a lot with their husbands or were divorced, so it made sense they were jealous of a carefree spirit. I started noticing that on days when Amanda dressed a little hotter, so rose the ire of our colleagues. It was funny in a way, but made me worried that a "wild west" styled showdown was in the works. I didn't have to wait long. The next Thursday I passed the faculty lunchroom after giving out my last exam of the day. Three of the really bitchy teachers were in there. The two old language teacher buzzards who likely haven't been laid in 20 years, and the effeminate home economics teacher who always "amens" everything they say were in there gossiping up a storm. "Such a slut!" and "How can she afford that car?" and my favorite: "Probably gave the principal a blow job for 'the' job!"
"Probably can't even remember her lesson plans," the fruitcake added for effect.
It was obvious that everything they were saying was untrue. I had filled in for her class sometimes and she was obviously doing a great job. Yes, the war had begun. On Friday, I decided to walk a little out of my way through her part of the building. I noticed through the glass door that she had her head in her hands and looked wiped out.
We started talking. She was fed up with all the disapproving glances and frowns from most of the female staff. She was clearly upset, but not near crying or anything. I mentioned that it might be jealousy at her beauty, and she looked a little surprised. She mentioned that she used to work in a very male workplace before transferring and had never even thought about jealousy much. She thought I was teasing her actually. She got a little annoyed thinking I was teasing her that way about her age.
I had to struggle to pay attention. Her brown eyes were stormy and deep, and far sexier than I had remembered from our break room encounters. I started feeling a little excitement down below. I tried to "will" it down. I'm supposed to be listening here to an upset woman! I've always been a sucker for eyes, and I've noticed that many older women have eyes even more alluring than young women.
"Are you listening?" she asked. Actually I was, and repeated what she said and we talked some more. She said, "You looked like you were daydreaming!" "Well, it's just that you've got the most amazing, um. . . never mind. We'd better run before they lock up"
She gave me a quizzical look. She was not a dumb woman by any means; I'm sure she realized that I was entranced. She got a look like she was thinking hard, then said, "Maybe I have more than just enemies around here after all." I nodded a little nervously and we made our good-byes.
