Geoffrey and I ended up sharing a couple of microbrews while we discussed the movie. The conversation eventually moved to politics and religion. Geoffrey shared many of our views on the world, God and entertainment. I didn't force our conversation, I never felt like had to; instead the topics came up spontaneously and our differences were accepted. For such a young man, his views were well formed and easily defended. When Joan and I saw Cora and Geoffrey to their car, the sun was nearly set.
My lengthy interaction with Cora's new love served two purposes. I had to check this guy out and honestly he passed. He'll make a great son in law. The other reason for the lengthy debates and raucous banter was to watch Joan. While we were entertaining Cora and Geoffrey, she couldn't steel away and write her narrative for Kevin. I had no intention of making any of this easy. I was being passive aggressive and I knew it. The strain and worry on Joan's face was exquisite.
Closing the front door, I asked Joan what she thought about Geoffrey. She agreed that he was a great match for Cora. She hoped that he was everything he presented himself to be. I told Joan that I needed to go to the store and asked her if she wanted to come along. I knew she would refuse even before she shook her head. "I'm tired. I'm going to get some work done for Monday, take a shower and probably watch some TV. It's been a long day."
"Sure, it's been a tiring one too." I added with a smile. Joan smiled back, she smelled like she'd drank a bottle of Listerine.
"I'm glad you like Geoffrey. It makes everything so much easier when a father likes his daughter's fiancé." Joan said. She sounded exhausted. I nodded and she turned to go upstairs.
"I really need to get started on that paperwork." Joan said without looking back. Her steps were slow and her legs wobbled as she made her way up the carpeted stairs. She held tenaciously to the banister. I hung around the kitchen for a few minutes then went up to our bedroom. I found Joan stepping into a steaming bubble bath. Under a dense blanket of bubbles Joan asked "Back already?" She didn't look at me and that made me want to linger and maybe discover what she was scheming.
"No." I answered slowly then added "I came up to get my list. It's bad enough I have to fix the plumbing I don't want to run out of parts." Joan smiled but she still wasn't looking at me. I grabbed the scrap of paper that had my list on it and left for the hardware store.
I completed my shopping in a couple of minutes but I stayed out for almost two hours anyway. When I got back I stayed in the basement for most of the evening. At eleven thirty I opened my laptop and punched in the address for the email account. My fingers kept betraying me. I got error message after error message until I stepped back, turned on the big screen TV. Then, after pouring myself another beer I typed in the address one key at a time.
After authenticating and clicking through some advertisements the inbox opened and there was the new message. This one had an attachment. I opened the email. There were only two lines in it.
"No longer apart but now a piece of the whole; I can gaze about me, not as a stranger through a window but as a member of the same family."
What the hell did that mean?
I opened the attachment. I pulled my hands from the keyboard and just let myself breath. Then, using only the up and down arrows I began reading Joan's letter. It was text only. Its tone was different, more intimate and relaxed. It felt like she was talking to me.
Here it was; what Kevin and I both wanted. Joan's debauchery in her own words...
"I've discovered that a whole can have many parts. Some are interchangeable like links on a chain while others remain but are changed by way of their relationship to the various parts.
With my husband I am; a wife, a mother, a daughter, sister, aunt, Teacher, Sunday School Teacher, Parish Officer, hostess and friend. Being with Ed has let me open my horizons and assume roles and responsibilities with a measure of security that has evoked confidence in my daily life.
With Mr. Montgomery, I'm a woman. No other role need be applied because nothing else is needed. For once, I don't have to achieve in spite of my sexuality. I don't have to act as if my body is something different from who I am, I've learned that my body's importance is no less than my mind or soul. I'm a woman with breasts, hips, legs, an ass and a vagina. I learned from Mr. Montgomery that these words designate my anatomy. Mr. Montgomery explained the power words; these are words that he uses when we are together. Men want a woman with a great ass and legs, but most of all; they want a woman who knows her pussy. After all, a man doesn't want to fuck a vagina he wants to fuck a pussy; my pussy. I've learned so much from this eighteen year old black student that outside the classroom he is my teacher and I am gladly his student.
I've known the attraction that a man can have on a woman. All women are attracted to power. Like a moth to a flame, that's what drew me to Kevin Montgomery. He is as certain of his sex as he is of his name. His ministrations always come to the proper fruition. Each day he tells me that I will enjoy our assignations and by the end of the day I'm longing for the morning so I can feel his warm lips, his strong hands and his incredible manhood once again.
I've known Kevin for some time but this week has been different. Early Monday morning, before anyone else was in the building, he walked into my classroom. Not bothering to check if it closed, he swung the door behind him and came to me. I was standing behind my desk. He pulled me to him. His thick arms encircled me and held me tight as his lips pressed hard against mine.
He said, "You're a fine woman. Show me how happy you are to be my woman, right now." He then stepped back away from me. I saw nothing but need in his expression and that need was for me. He held up his phone and I saw the flash. He was smiling. He looked so kind when he flashed that big smile. In front of him I was nothing more than an obsessed girl with her first crush.
