(c) 2017 GingerM
June Winters stirred her coffee idly, staring out the window at the snow. Never had her surname seemed more apropos. Snow lay on the ground outside, drifted three and four feet high here and there, though mostly it was about two feet. More snow was coming down. Not a hard, driving blizzard, but not a postcard picture that fell on nose and eyelashes, as the old musical had it. More to the point, her name also mirrored her mood; she was in a winter of discontent.
The problem was her life. She was married, had a lovely daughter, Jennifer; a comfortable home, a thoughtful and attentive husband. The problem was that her husband, Jim, was... well, in a word, boring. He was thirty-nine, beginning to go bald a little, growing a bit of a paunch. They both had memberships at Fitness World, though June was the only one of them who went regularly. It paid dividends, though; her figure was still as trim as it had been the day Jenny had been conceived. Jennifer, just turned eighteen, had her mother's fair skin, blonde tresses and shapely build as well the energy and athleticism of youth which served her well on her high school's cheer team. June sighed slightly as the old secret suspicion turned over in her mind. She'd borne Jennifer eight months after she'd married Jim and she still sometimes wondered if Jennifer's stunning beauty came in part from her school's senior year's football captain, Todd, rather than her husband's loins. Still he was a good man, kindly and loving, and he did try to please her... just he didn't succeed very often anymore. He was the quintessential middle-aged American family man, complete with the quintessential American family. Really, the only outlier was that they'd never had another child - which was another reason why June suspected Jennifer was in fact not Jim's daughter.
The snow was definitely picking up, and her daughter wasn't home from school yet. Jenny had been coming home later and later over the past couple of months, though she was certainly on top of her marks and was in vivacious good health. Jim had already texted to say his flights were delayed and not to expect him home that night, so June was just waiting for her absent daughter to arrive.
An unfamiliar car pulled into the driveway behind her Toyota minivan, a cheerful blue Mercedes hardtop coupe. Her daughter - fair-skinned, blue-eyed, vivacious and all-American sexy - jumped out of the passenger side, swinging her backpack onto one shoulder while her platinum ponytail swung around exuberantly, then she bounced - no other word for it - around the front of the car and in long, flashing strides came up the snow-drifted sidewalk. More sedately, the driver emerged as well - a striking, handsome woman of colour. She had an arresting look; her hair was nearly the same platinum as Jennifer's though coiffed in a close-cropped style with only the center long and curled rather like a horse's mane, which made a striking contrast with the rich chocolate colour of her skin. She moved with confidence and purpose, and June found herself irrationally intimidated. This was a woman who was in charge of herself.
Her daughter flung the front door open and called, "Mom! I'm home!" as June came around the corner. Jenny tossed her coat on the chair in the front hall and dropped her backpack next to it, then half-turned, one hand flung negligently toward the woman following - who, at least, had stopped on the front step with a look known to all parents; a slight smile of amused resignation at impetuous youth.
"Please, come in," June asked her; she couldn't very well leave the woman standing on the step and shut the door in her face. Common politeness demanded she at least acknowledge the woman, introduce herself, since she was evidently someone well-known to her daughter.
"Mom, this is Miss Malleo," her undutiful daughter informed her. "She's my English teacher and offered me a ride home because of the snow." Jenny swiftly undid the elastic holding her hair back in a ponytail and shook it out, producing a shimmering fall over her shoulders, then swiftly smoothed it back and re-confined it. Two spots of colour rode her cheeks and a happy little smile played over her lips as she smoothed her school blazer down, then the mid-thigh plaid skirt. For the barest instant she glanced back at Miss Malleo, lips slightly parted, then turned back and threw her arms around her mother in a warm hug.
June laughed lightly, returning her daughter's embrace, then disentangled herself and offered her hand to the gorgeous ebony woman in her front hall. "Hello, and welcome. I'm June Winters. Let me get your coat, then come in to the living room." Jenny hip-bumped the kitchen door, letting it swing closed behind her as the teacher stepped in and neatly knocked snow from her elegant black boots.
Warm brown eyes above a generous mouth smiled as the teacher replied, "Thank you so much. I was worried that Jenny might not get home easily, given the weather, so I said I'd give her a ride." Something in her voice... it was rich and warm and throaty, and June shivered involuntarily. She shook herself as Jenny's English teacher added, "Please, call me Sheera," and followed June in.
Her unexpected guest stood on the threshold of the living room for a moment, hands folded, then unerringly moved to Jim's armchair and seated herself. From the kitchen came the sounds of clinking and the soft whistle of a kettle, and June flushed for a moment. "Excuse me, please, Sheera. I'll go get us all something to warm up with."
"Thank you," she replied, and June flushed again at that incredible voice. "I'd very much like something warm and sweet." Something about her voice, the intonation, the words made June pause at the entryway to the kitchen and glance back, but Sheera was simply sitting there, relaxed, one long booted leg crossed over the other.
What was happening? June shooed her daughter out to go upstairs and change, and took charge of making tea. There was something about Sheera Malleo that was... different, and yet try as she might, June couldn't put her finger on it. The English teacher was striking, no question - taller than June or Jenny, definitely taller than Jim. Although a rich, warm brown in colour, her features seemed more classically Caucasian than African. Maybe it was her outfit? Her turtleneck sweater was simplicity itself, though June would have bet her month's housekeeping money it was at least high three figures. Likewise her knee-high boots and close-fitting slacks; even her warm duffle coat - June would have given long odds that her guest's entire outfit cost well north of four or five thousand dollars. Apparently English teachers did very well for themselves. It was her manner, mostly, June decided. Sheera has poise, class and elegance. She knew exactly who she was, where she belonged, where she was going and what she wanted. She was not... adrift.
Sheera was wonderfully easy to talk with. She was clever with words - well, in an English teacher, what else would you expect? - seemed to have a ready command of the main events of the world, and conversed in a warm, intimate manner, as if she and June had known each other all their lives. She was full of praise for Jennifer as a student and an athlete, speaking in glowing terms of her daughter's performance on the cheer team as well as in English. When June asked, Sheera chuckled in that amazing, throaty voice of hers. "Oh, well you see, I'm also the girls' physical education instructor for the time being, as their regular one has had to take an indefinite leave of absence." She'd shrugged. "I certainly don't mind; I enjoy fitness myself and I took kinesthesiology and body mechanics as a minor in university while I was doing my education masters."
June flushed again, silently comparing Sheera's attainments with her own. She'd not gone to college, having married Jim at eighteen and shortly after given birth to Jenny. Still, she remembered wistfully her love of English literature, and so turned the topic in that direction. Thus it was that they passed a very agreeable visit of an hour or more; in fact, June was brought back to earth, so to speak, when Jenny came downstairs in a pretty dress to inform her mother that she'd finished her homework, and to ask if she should start supper? "And can Miss Malleo stay? I looked outside again and it's snowing real bad now," she finished.
"'It's snowing very badly', Jenny," Sheera and June spoke simultaneously, then laughed together. Sheera sat back in Jim's armchair, raising her teacup to her lips as June stood and went to the window. It was, indeed, snowing very badly now; there was already half a foot of snow on the roof of Sheera's car. "Improper syntax or not," she turned to look at their guest, "Jenny's right that it's bad weather. Please stay to supper, and -" she flushed again "- given how much worse it's become, you're welcome to stay the night. We have a guest room you can use and that may be safer than trying to drive in this. My husband won't be home tonight either," she finished.
Now why did I say that?
she asked herself as Sheera stood and joined her at the window. The teacher's face lost its smile and became grave as she considered the snow, now coming down in hard-driving gusts.
"Thank you, June, Jenny," she replied. "I wish I could reasonably say, 'Oh, I'll be fine' and go home, but you're right. It's not fit for man nor beast out there, and I'd much rather accept your kind offer than try my luck on the roads now. Hopefully by tomorrow it will have blown over and the roads will be cleared."
The evening passed oddly swiftly, oddly slowly. Sheera was consistently the perfect, thoughtful guest, deferring to her hostess - and yet, somehow, both Jenny and June found themselves following her lead. It was rather as if Sheera was a star, and they the planets orbiting, basking in her light and warmth. Supper over, they spend the evening watching a movie - again, Sheera without hesitation chose Jim's seat in the family room, and June and Jenny found themselves on either side of her - but neither mother nor daughter felt it odd. Indeed, June found the fact that it felt normal to be odd; surely she should've reacted somehow to Sheera's unquestioned, unchallenged assumption? It disturbed her, too, that Jim's absence seemed... right.
Sheera stood and stretched after the movie, and turned to June. "Thank you very much, both of you, for your hospitality. I'm afraid I really should call it a night, though. If you'll both excuse me...?"
Jenny bounced up. "I'll show you the guest room, and where the towels and stuff is," she offered. "Are, I mean," she amended herself with a giggle.
June remained behind as daughter and teacher left the room, her thoughts and emotions a roiling tumble. Sheera was... well, she was something else. June had never felt any interest in girls, but after an evening in Sheera's company, she was beginning to understand the attraction. The teacher was magnetic, almost hypnotic. No wonder Jenny was doing so well in her English classes and gym; with a teacher like that to look up to, and who clearly took an interest in return, it would be odd if she wasn't eager to excel.
She wandered upstairs to the kitchen, still in something of a brown study, and poured herself a cup of coffee. A curious, intriguing enigma, Sheera Malleo was. A thought struck her - what sort of name was 'Malleo'? It sounded like it might be vaguely European... but she couldn't place it. Not French, definitely; probably not Spanish... Italian, perhaps? Or Greek? Yet Sheera's English was impeccable - again, as you would expect in an English teacher. And her voice was amazing... every time Sheera had spoken, either to her or her daughter, she'd felt like someone's fingers were walking down her spine, touching her in secret places. That voice was definitely part of her charisma, and that charisma was incredible. She felt very certain that Sheera could have given her orders, and that she would have cheerfully, willingly obeyed them.
A small sigh escaped her as she placed the empty cup in the dishwasher and started the cycle, then made her way upstairs to the master bedroom. A quick shower and then to bed... and she might just have to have some personal time before she turned the lights out. She undressed quickly then took her shower, already enjoying a slow, pleasant tingle in anticipation. Clean and ready for bed, she came out, and paused. Something was making an odd sound, just barely at the threshold of hearing through the well-soundproofed door.
Her curiosity piqued, she shrugged into her robe, a creamy satin-and-lace indulgence that she'd bought for herself, and for Jim, a couple of years ago in an effort to re-kindle the flames. The master bedroom was at the end of the hall; Jenny's room was next to it, and the guest room on the other side. On silent, bare feet she padded down the hall, fingers nervously twining in the belt holding her robe closed.
The sound was louder now, and tantalizingly familiar... a rhythmic squeaking, now that she was out in the hall. The noise sounded like it was coming from Jenny's bedroom...? For some reason her mouth was dry, her heart pounding in her chest with some nameless anticipation. She could hear muffled voices now, too indistinct for words, even at the door to her daughter's room - and then, as she laid her hand on the doorknob, as she turned it, as she heard the muted
snik
of the latch, sudden memory flooded her; the squeaking sound... the sound of a mattress, Todd's bed, eighteen years ago, and him above her... her thighs spread wide, either side of him, her knees supported by his hands, and a look of concentration on his face; her hands on his shoulders, her mouth making inarticulate, mewling noises of need and want and desire; and the swift, pounding rhythm of him inside her, taking her with urgent lust... that was the sound coming from her daughter's bedroom now, as she pushed the door open.
She stopped short, her hands flying to her mouth at the sight that greeted her. Her daughter's peaches-and-cream beauty, utterly naked on her bed. Her head hanging over the edge of the bed, hair fanned out in a golden fall of glory onto the floor. Her firm young breasts bouncing, capped with pale, stiff, hard nipples. Her toned tummy... her strong young legs, spread wide. And between them - oh, God, between them... Sheera. Her short, platinum shock of hair, her beautifully sculpted face and warm brown eyes looking down at Jenny... her strong hands on her daughter's hips, muscles rippling, bunching under the dark velvet of her skin; her breasts also bouncing, swaying enticingly, the dark pegs of her nipples hard, lifting twin golden-arrow piercings. June's eyes followed down helplessly, drawn inexorably... Sheera's taut, firm six-pack abs flexing, her hips moving... and dear God in heaven, a
