The Girls Of Central Valley High

            by Ann Douglas


            Hannah Morris waited her turn at the folding table set up outside the small ballroom.  Off to the left, an oversized placard rested on an easel, identifying the check in station for the brunch honoring the Belles of Central Valley High.  On the other side of the table, right by the entrance to the inner room, was a large wall mounted mirror designed to allow guests to make a final check of their appearance before attending their function.  Even though she had checked herself carefully before leaving her room, the twenty-six year old couldn't help checking again.

            

            The invitation, she recalled, had said casual, but casual could mean different things to different people.  She’d attended casual events where people had shown up in jeans and t-shirts.  Figuring she couldn’t go wrong with a nice sundress, that was what she decided on, and from the looks of the women around her it had been a good choice.  The bright yellow of her dress complemented her skin and balanced out nicely with the diamond pendant her parents had given her for high school graduation.  Her legs were freshly shaved and she'd completed the outfit with matching open toed shoes.  That just left her mid-back length black hair, which she  considered tying back, but let it just hang loose instead.

 

            She hadn’t recognized any of the three women in front of her in the line, one of whom had already finished her registration and was headed for the ballroom entrance.  Hannah’s line of sight followed her into the room in search of someone that she did recognize.  To her disappointment, but not her expectation, none of the dozen or so women she could see from her vantage point looked the least bit familiar either.  So far this weekend, that had proven the norm, and not for the first time she regretted having come down from San Francisco to attend the Reunion, when she could instead be preparing for the court case she was second chairing next week. 

 

            Originally, when the invitation from the Alumni Committee  had come two months ago, Hannah had simply tossed it unopened into her junk mail drawer.  Homecoming, as the school liked to call it, wasn’t something she had any interest in.  But then, just two weeks ago, she'd gotten a call from Deborah Young, the girl who'd been her best and, she sometimes thought, her only real friend at Central Valley, inquiring if she was going.  When she said that she wasn't planning on it, her old friend had implored her to change her mind and go to Homecoming with her.  Now that Deborah’s divorce decree had become final, she really couldn't bear to go alone. 

 

            When that didn't work, Deborah laid down the guilt card, reminding Hannah that when her own two year old relationship had come apart last fall, she'd dropped everything and gone north to help her through the worst of it.  The least she could do was return the favor.

 

            "Oh come on, it's our ten year reunion,"  Deborah had persisted.  "How can you not come home for that?  Besides, Tommy is going to have the kids that weekend and this girl needs to get out and enjoy herself for a change.  Please say you'll come."

 

            In the end, Hannah had said that she would. 

 

            The truth was, aside from her academic success, Hannah had few happy memories of Central Valley High, and even fewer classmates, male or female, that she wished to renew acquaintance with – Deborah, of course, being the notable exception.  Most of the other students looked at her as being a bit different, some would even say strange.  Part of that was due to the fact that she was always two years younger than everyone else in her classes, the result of having skipped grades in both elementary and middle school.  Then, there was the other thing, the secret that she’d never even told Deborah about – well, at least, not back then. 

 

            Even among the Belles, the school's honor society for women that she'd been inducted into at the end of her freshman year, Hannah never made any real friends.  By the time other girls her age made the list, she was already a senior and at best most were usually sophomores.  The social gap between the grades was too vast to preclude anything more than casual associations.  

 

            The young man at the table, who Hannah assumed was another one of the local college students the vacation resort hired for weekend events, finished with the woman ahead of her and, with a cheerful smile, asked for Hannah's name and anniversary class.  Finding it on one of the color coded clipboards, he had her sign next to her printed name, then handed her a small printout of the day's scheduled events, along with a listing of the resort’s amenities that were available to the alumni.

 

            As Hannah stepped away from the table and walked toward the small ballroom, she passed the mirror by the entranceway.  Out of the corner of her eye, she was surprised to see that, instead of turning his attention to the next guest in line, the teenager at the table was checking out her ass as she walked away.  She was tempted for a moment to give it a little wiggle, just to let him know he'd been caught looking.  Then she thought better of the idea and simply disappeared through the doorway. 

 

            'Hope you got a good look, kid,'  Hannah thought with a silent chuckle,  'cause that's as close to this ass as you'll ever get.'

 

                The incident was then forgotten as Hannah moved off to the side of the room and checked the program she had been given to see what table she was at.  No sooner had she looked up again when a waitress, another college student, was at her side asking if she would like a mimosa.

 

            "Sure, why not,"  Hannah replied, folding the sheets of paper in her hand before slipping them into her handbag.

 

            Taking a drink from the tray, Hannah traded smiles with the short haired blonde before she turned her attention to another guest.  Right behind her came another server with a tray of appetizers. Whatever else you could say about Homecoming, the attendees certainly were getting value for their money.

 

            In fact, it was Hannah's opinion that it was the resort itself that drew most of the alumni to Homecoming rather than any desire to reconnect with old classmates.  After all, she'd read once in the alumni newsletter that most Central Valley graduates still lived within an hour’s drive from the campus, allowing ample opportunity to keep in touch with former classmates if they so desired. 

 

            Most schools in the region usually held their class reunions in the school gym, the event being either a dinner or dance.  Up until about thirty years ago, that had also been the norm for Central Valley. That was when Howard Reeves Jr., class of '53, had attended his twenty-fifth reunion and came away feeling disappointed. 

 

            A highly successful hotel entrepreneur, Mr. Reeves credited Central Valley with starting him on the road to success and already had a history of generous contributions to the school.  Starting the year after his twenty-fifth reunion, however, he totally outdid himself by making his premier resort available at cost for both the senior prom and Homecoming – cost being defined by him as what it would've cost to hold either in the gym. 

 

            Additionally, he also offered greatly reduced rates to any alumni staying at the resort during Homecoming.  Whether he also offered a similar discount to the senior class the night of prom was something he declined to answer with anything other than a mischievous grin.

 

            But all good things eventually come to an end.  At eighty-one and in poor health, Howard Reeves had already turned over most of his business interests to his oldest son and heir, saving only the resort for himself.  Alexander Howard Reeves, who had gone to private school at the insistence of his mother, didn’t share his father's sense of obligation to his alma mater.  So the days of practically free wine and song were unlikely to continue once the family elder went to his well deserved reward – at least in their present form.  The school could continue to book the resort for functions, the new company president had said on multiple occasions, but at existing market rates.  With that in mind, everyone wanted to take advantage of what they could, while they could.   

 

                                                -=-=-=-

 

            Since Hannah had been a late respondee, she hadn’t been seated with the other Belles of the class of ’06 – that table was already full.  Which was just as well, she thought, as that meant that she only had to make a perfunctory appearance there to make her manners.  A place at the orphans’ table with other last minute attendees, or alumni from classes that didn’t have enough representatives for a full table, was good enough for her.     

 

            By a quirk of fate, Hannah, who was the youngest Belle attending, was seated next to Lorena Hamilton, who at sixty-seven was the oldest.  Technically, there weren’t any Belles back in the mid-sixties when Mrs. Hamilton had been a student, but anyone who would’ve qualified had been added to the rolls in later years, if only to put the Belles on equal footing with other school associations as far as soliciting alumni donations was concerned. 

 

            With a forty-one year difference in their ages, it might be thought that Hannah and Lorena would find little in common.  Much to their mutual surprise, the reverse proved to be true.  Lorena had been a woman ahead of her time and found in the younger a kindred soul.  Hannah had been greatly impressed when, in response to a comment another woman at the table made about San Francisco after it had come up in conversation, Lorena had quickly and strongly put the woman in her place.

 

            "My family used to love vacationing in San Francisco,” the alumni of the class of ’76 had said, "but now it’s all gays and degenerates who have just ruined a beautiful city."

 

            It wasn’t lost on anyone else on the table that she’d meant the second as a definition of the first.  

 

            “Are you really so stupid as to think that?”  Lorena quickly retorted.  "I’ll have you know my grandson is gay and I couldn’t be prouder of him, or the man he married."

 

            Having expected agreement from her peers, not derision, the woman barely made another comment the rest of the brunch.  Which was fine by Hannah, as it gave her more of a chance to exchange views with Lorena.  Over great food and a few more mimosas than might have been prudent, the two became fast friends.                 

 

            So it was a bit disappointing when, once the servers began to remove the now empty plates, Lorena said that, having come only for the brunch, she had to leave for an appointment she just couldn’t break.  The two exchanged numbers and promised to have lunch again the next time Hannah was back in town.  Strange, Hannah thought as she watched the older woman leave, how well she got along with someone who graduated before she’d even been born, but couldn’t spend five minutes longer than she had in chatting with her contemporaries. 

 

            Hannah waited until at least one other woman at the table got up to leave before saying her own goodbyes.  When she had first come into the ballroom, she’d noticed tables set up in the back, displaying various memorabilia.  Initially, they held no interest for her, but now, having spent well over an hour chatting with Lorena about what it was like during the old days, her curiosity drew her to the exhibit. 

 

            Most of the memorabilia were the sort of things Hannah remembered seeing in the trophy cases outside the school auditorium, old textbooks, various academic and sports awards – nothing that really interested her.  The last table, however, held an assortment of framed photographs, one of which one immediately drew her attention.  It was from an awards ceremony she remembered from early in her senior year.  Standing almost in the center of a group of Belles was a younger version of herself. 

 

            Picking up the 8x10, Hannah examined it closely.  She had practically no photos from that time in her life; a small basement fire in her parents’ house while she was away at college had destroyed most of her personal mementos, including her high school yearbook.  Not that there had been many photos to begin with; after all, it wasn’t like today where everyone carried a camera-equipped phone and documented everything in their life.       

 

            The face in the photo didn’t look all that much different than the one that had looked back at her in the bathroom mirror this morning.  She had been so young back in high school, not even turning seventeen until the summer after graduation.  But even if the face had hardly changed, the woman behind it certainly had.        

 

            She had grown so much in the years since Central Valley, even if she still looked much like the girl she was.  The Hannah of today bore little resemblance beyond the physical to the one she was looking at.  As she placed the photo back on the table, she allowed herself a bit of speculation and wondered, if it were possible, what advice she wished she could’ve given to her younger self.   

 

            The answer, she thought, was obvious.  It was the simple truth that, once she came to believe it, allowed everything else in her life to fall into place.   

 

            It had become her lifelong credo, well, for the last decade of her life at least.  A bit of the classic, that she’d gotten from her studies, coupled with something she’d gotten from Deborah.  ‘To thine own self be true – and fuck anyone who doesn’t like it.’

 

            Not having seen anything on the schedule of events that interested her until the evening, Hannah decided to go for a walk and let the rich food she had eaten settle.  The function had been billed as a brunch, but seemed more like an all you could eat buffet by the time it was done.  She started to walk away from the tables, going about a dozen feet, before she thought she heard someone call out her name.

 

            Pausing, she turned to where she thought it had come from, only to see no sign of who might have called out.  She started to slowly turn in the opposite direction, only to be startled by the appearance of a tall older woman right in front of her. 

 

            Three inches taller than her own five foot six, the woman had short auburn hair that framed strong Asian features.  Dressed in dark blue slacks, a matching vest and a open top sky blue blouse that accentuated her bust, the woman seemed teasingly familiar, but for the moment, Hannah couldn’t quite place her.

 

            "You don’t remember me, do you?"  the woman asked with a warm smile.

 

            The voice triggered a memory and as that came to the forefront, recognition followed.  Not only had it been a decade since Hannah had seen the attractive woman, she had been searching for her name in the wrong context.  She had been searching for a fellow student, and that wasn’t where it would be found.  The outfit the woman had on also added to Hannah’s uncertainty, being far removed from the highly conservative attire she associated with her former teacher.  

       

            "Oh my God, Mrs. Takahashi!"  Hannah exclaimed. 

 

            Born of Scottish and Japanese parentage, Moira Takahashi had inherited the best, in her opinion, from each.  Half a head taller than the average Japanese woman, the biracial teacher had a well developed, full breasted body, coupled with smooth timeless features that belied her age.  It was understandable that Hannah initially assumed she had been a student.  

 

            "What are you doing here?"  Hannah continued as her surprise began to dissipate.

 

            After seeing her reaction, Mrs. Takahashi decided to give Hannah a moment or two to settle down before replying.

 

            "I mean, it’s nice to see you again,"  Hannah quickly corrected herself, realizing how what she’d just said must have sounded.  "I didn’t know teachers came to Homecoming,"  she quickly added, as if to explain her momentary failure to recognize her.

 

            "It’s nice to see you too,"  the older woman said, pleased to see that her former student seemed genuinely happy to see her.  "And you’re right, teachers don’t normally come to Homecoming.  Unless of course they also happen to be alumni as well.  Which I am, class of ’86.  In fact, I was even a Belle."

 

            "You were a Belle?"  Hannah asked, realizing how inane that sounded because why else would she have been at the brunch?  

 

            "I was one of the first inductees,"  Moira explaining, not seeming to find the question silly at all.  "The honor society had only been established the year before by Principal Fletcher, of course, she was only the junior vice-principal then."   

 

            "The Wicked Witch of the West?"  Hannah asked in surprise, the name not being one she had any difficulty remembering as the Principal had been one of her less than happy school memories, "She was in charge way back then?"

 

            "The same Hazel Fletcher we’ve all come to know and loathe,"  Moira replied, making it clear she wasn’t one of the administrator’s admirers either.  "And it wasn’t all that long ago,"          

 

            Hannah found herself doing the math.  If  Mrs. Takahashi had been class of '86, that made her at least forty-seven now.  That didn’t seem possible.  Back when she'd sat in her class, Hannah couldn’t have imagined that the history teacher was more then thirty at most. 

 

            "Earth to Hannah?"  she heard Moira say.

 

            "Oh, I'm sorry,"  Hannah smiled,  "I guess I got lost in thought for a moment."

 

            "I seem to remember you used to do that quite often,"  the taller woman smiled.

 

            "I’m afraid it’s still a bad habit,"  Hannah laughed softly.

 

            "Speaking of afraid,"  Moira said, changing the subject, "I almost didn’t call your name when I saw you walking out, because I wasn’t sure if you would remember me."

 

            "Are you kidding?  You were my favorite teacher,"  Hannah replied, thinking as she did that it sounded hollow since she’d initially failed to recognize her.  "If anything, I’m amazed that you remembered me.  I mean you must’ve had a thousand students since then."

 

            "Well, not quite that many,"  Moira laughed, "but you're right, most students do eventually blend into the background of a teacher’s life.  Still, every now and then, there are a few that you can't help but remember.  The ones that make an impression that you can't forget."  

 

            "What did I ever do to make an impression on you?"  Hannah asked curiously.  "I mean, I loved your class, but so did a lot of students."

 

            Moira seemed about to say something, then paused as if she’d had a change of thought.  She seemed to consider the question for a few more moments, then finally replied. 

 

            "I'm not totally sure, I…"  Moira started to say, then paused again.  "No, I take that back, I do know why.  I remember being perplexed as to why, in the middle of senior year, you suddenly began failing my class.  After all, you were one of the wunderkinds.  I thought, at first at least, that it might just be a case of senioritis.  But after speaking to some of your other teachers, I found they had no idea what I was talking about.  In their classes, you were still doing exemplarily work."

 

            Hannah’s expression said that she also remembered that last term, all too well.  It was the first time she had ever gotten anything lower than a B in any class.  Luckily, the drop in her GPA didn’t affect any of her college acceptances. 

 

            "The inconsistency got me wondering if it was me rather than you,”  Moira went on, “that somehow, in your case at least, I was failing as a teacher.  But then, before I could inquire further, your grades improved enough to pass, if only barely."  

 

            "I guess I was a bit distracted that term,"  Hannah said, not elaborating as the cause of the distraction.

 

            "Hmm, could it have been because of a boy?"  Moira asked with a knowing smile, having considered that a possible cause back then.   

 

            "Something like that,”  Hannah smiled back. 

 

            "Well, you obviously sorted it out, so I won't ask who he was,"  Moira added.  "Not that I'd probably remember him even if you told me his name."

 

            "Did Mr. Takahashi come with you to the reunion?"  Hannah asked, shifting the topic.

 

            "I'm not married anymore,"  Moira said, the tone and wording of the  reply sounding strange to Hannah. 

 

            It had been her experience that whenever anyone mentioned a change in marital status, it was usually accompanied by a reason.  It gave people some guidance as to how to react.  If a marriage had ended with the passing of a spouse, it certainly called for an expression of sympathy, but not if it had ended in divorce – at least not in the same way.     

 

            "How about you, anyone special in your life?"  Moira asked.

 

            "There was,"  Hannah answered.  "I mean, I was living with someone up in San Francisco for a while, but in the end we really weren’t right for each other."

 

            "Well, better that you learned that before it went any further,"  Moira remarked.  "Do you still live up there?"

 

            'Divorce,'  Hannah thought before answering yes,  'it had to have been a divorce.'

 

            "I left Central Valley a few years back myself,"  Moira offered.  "In fact, I'm not all that far from you, just east of San Jose."

 

            "Are you still teaching?"  Hannah inquired.

 

            "Oh yes, I love it too much to stop,"  Moira replied. "I was lucky enough to get a teaching position at a small private school, one much more progressive than Central Valley.  Still, I do sometimes miss my life here, which was why I decided to come back for Homecoming."

 

            That prompted Hannah to share the story of how she had been talked into coming herself.

 

            "Oh no, I'm keeping you from your friend, aren’t I?"  Moira asked.

 

            "Actually no,"  Hannah replied.  "Her youngest came down with a fever late Thursday night and she texted me yesterday morning saying that even though he was feeling better, she still didn't feel right leaving him.  Of course by that time I was just about here and it made no sense to turn around."

 

            "That's too bad, but perfectly understandable,"  Moira noted. "Motherhood has its responsibilities.  Still, I'm glad that you didn't turn around."

 

            A scuffle of chairs behind them caused both to look, the noise having been made by three women getting up from the closest table.  A glance around them showed mostly empty seats at the other tables, evidence that people were finally leaving and moving on to other events.

 

            "I guess its time to go,"  Hannah said.

 

            "It appears so,"  Moira agreed.  "Where are you going next?"

 

            "I was just planning to go for a walk,"  Hannah replied.  "As good as some of the food was, it was also pretty rich."

 

            "That it was,"  Moira agreed, then added after a pause,  "Would you like some company?"

 

            "I think that I would,"  Hannah said after her own short pause.             

           

                                                -=-=-=-

 

            The resort was situated a good ten miles out of town, with the nearest neighbor half that distance away.  So it wasn’t difficult for the two woman to find a path they could traverse in private.  The afternoon sun was quite warm, so neither felt the need to stop at their room to pick up a jacket or sweater.  Talking as they walked, they compared notes of where their lives had taken them over the last ten years.

 

            "Well I took a year off after graduating from Central Valley,"  Hannah said after listening to Moira's story.

 

            "Trying to find yourself?"   Moira quipped, meaning it as a joke more than anything else.

 

            "Partly,"  Hannah replied, not taking it as such, "but mostly I just wanted to let life slow down a bit, or perhaps maybe just let everyone else catch up.  Looking back, if I could change one thing, it would’ve been not skipping grades like I did.  I regret not having had friends my own age growing up."

 

            "Well, you had your friend, Deborah,”  Moira stated, “but wait, she was older too, wasn’t she?"

 

            "Chronologically, yes,"  Hannah chuckled, "but in many way, Debbie was, and still is, perpetually sixteen."

 

            "And yourself?"  Moira asked, a bit of mirth in her own tone.

 

            "In some ways I think I'm already middle aged, at least, I sometimes feel that way,"  Hannah answered.

 

            "Age is a state of mind,"  Moira offered,  "at least once you reach adulthood.  After that, it's what you make of it."

 

            "I guess that's true, at least in your case,”  Hannah said, adding how young she had thought the history teacher had been back in high school.

 

            "Thirty?  You're kidding, right?"  Moira said.

 

            Hannah just shook her head to show she wasn't, as Moira thanked her for the compliment.

 

            "Even now I still can't believe that you're forty-seven or…"  Hannah started to say, only to be interrupted.

 

            "Forty-nine actually,"  the older woman corrected her.  "I had to repeat a grade along the line due to illness."

 

            "Damn,"  Hannah said in disbelief.

 

            Hannah moved on to a brief summary of her college years, and the few jobs she had after that while she tried to find one that really suited her.  

 

            "So how did you wind up in San Francisco?"  Moira asked as they made another turn onto a new walkway.

 

            "You know the old saying, where thou goest?"  Hannah grinned.

 

            "Ah, the things we do for love,"  Moira smiled back.

 

            "And then, when things between us fell apart, I found that I was still at least in love with the city.  At least enough that I couldn’t imagine moving away.  Besides, I had my associate’s position at Abrams, McCord and Young, which I wasn’t about to walk away from.  So I found a place of my own and stayed,"  Hannah explained.

 

            They walked a bit further and Hannah inquired what led to Moira leaving Central Valley.  Was the new school just a golden opportunity or was there more to it?

 

            "I would have to say a bit of both,"  Moira said as she stepped ahead of the younger woman when the path began to narrow.  "The offer had been there for a while; an old college professor was the Dean of Admissions and had previously recommended me for the next opening.  Then, as I was considering it, I had that … well, the details aren't important.  Lets just say that relations between Hazel Fletcher and myself reached a point where she suggested I might be happier elsewhere."

 

            Hannah was curious as to what had happened, but felt it wasn’t right to pry.

 

            They followed  a winding curve and began the trek back.

 

            "You know, I was just thinking.  Even though it was ten years ago, I feel a bit bad that I didn't inquire as to why you were failing my class,"  Moira said.  "I've never thought myself one of those teachers who think their students only matter between the period bells. So I don’t know why I acted like one in your case."

 

            "I think talking to you about it back then would’ve only made things worse,"  Hannah said as the path again widened and she moved back up alongside Moira.  

 

            "Why does that sound like it was something more serious than a crush on some boy?"  Moira asked, now feeling worse that she never inquired.

 

            Hannah didn’t respond, but her expression gave Moira an answer.

 

            "You know something?"  Moira said, shaking her head as she did so.  "It’s really none of my business and, after all, it was ten years ago.  So I'm sorry for bringing it up."

 

            Looking ahead at the path before them, Moira didn’t realize, at least until she’d gone a half dozen more steps, that Hannah had unexpectedly stopped and was now again behind her.  Turning to see what was wrong, she found the younger woman just standing there, a look of conflict on her face.   

 

            "Hannah, is something wrong?"  Moira asked as she took a few steps back.

 

            "I don’t know why this is so hard to say,"  Hannah said,  "I mean it’s not like it’s even a secret anymore.”

 

            "I don’t understand,"  Moira said.

 

            “That term, the one where I began failing your class,”  Hannah said,  “that was the term I realized that I was more interested in girls than guys – or at least the point where I was willing to finally accept it.”  

 

            "I see,"  Moira said, trying to keep her reaction as neutral as possible.  "And I’m guessing that the person who made you realize that was in my class."

 

            Hannah nodded her head yes. 

 

            Recalling what she had said earlier about probably not being able to remember the boy when she thought that was what Hannah was alluding to,  Moira figured the same probably applied to the girl as well.   

 

            "Did you and this girl ever…?"  Moira asked, hoping she wasn’t crossing a line.  But Hannah had opened the door with her statement, so she couldn’t expect her not to be a bit curious. 

 

            "No, in fact she never even knew,"  Hannah answered.  "I didn’t even kiss a girl until well after high school."

 

            Moira combined that when something Hannah had said before and, putting one and one together, came up with three.

 

            "That friend, the one you that invited you down for Homecoming,"  Moira asked,  "was she the one, the one you were in love with?"

 

            "Deborah?"  Hannah said in surprise and then laughed.  "Oh hell no."

 

            Deborah, Hannah further explained, was so into guys that she considered oral sex little more than foreplay and usually spread her legs by a third date.  In fact, that cavalier attitude was what had led to her getting married at nineteen when, as she so charmingly put it, the bloody rubber broke.  No, Deborah was her best friend and she could honestly say she loved her, but just not in that way.

 

            Although she was pretty sure of the answer, Moira asked the other question that had come to her.    

 

            "The lover you followed to San Francisco?"  she asked.

 

            "Angela,"  Hannah confirmed.  "If you’re wondering if I’m still into girls or if it was just a phase, the answer is, yes, I’m still into girls.  I couldn’t imagine being otherwise."   

 

            “Okay,”  Moira simply said.  “So shall we continue our walk?”  

 

            "I wasn’t sure if you still would want to,"  Hannah said.

 

            “Hannah, just your saying that makes me think that there have been some people in your life that have treated you differently after you’ve told them,”  Moira replied.  “All I can say is that was their loss.  Who you love is no one else’s business and as long as you are happy in your life, then I’m happy for you."

 

            There was another long pause as that look of contemplation again filled the younger woman’s face.

 

            "Would you still feel that way,"  she said, more hesitation in her voice,  "if I told you that the person I was in love with back then, the one who made me realize what I was, was you?"

 

            "Me?”  Moira asked, a look of total surprise filling her face.

 

            "You were the one I couldn’t get out of my head,"  Hannah confessed,  "and when I laid in bed at night I…well I’m sure you can imagine."

 

            "You had sexual fantasies about me?"  Moira asked, wanting to be sure what she was saying.

 

            "Yes,"  Hannah answered, her head dropping just a bit as if in shame.

 

            "Hannah, you were sixteen years old,"  Moira said reassuringly.  "Do you have any idea how many students have sexual thoughts about their teachers, regardless of their gender?  It’s perfectly normal."

 

            That the teacher didn’t seem upset in the least by the revelation that her former student used to masturbate with her in mind sent a huge wave of relief washing over Hannah.  It had been years since she’d thought of Mrs. Takahashi, but running into her unexpectedly had brought those memories back with a vengeance – and with them the terrifying fear that if Moira had known about it, she would’ve looked at the younger woman with disgust.  Yet despite that, she had felt compelled to confess it.      

 

            Moira waited for the last look of worry to completely fade from Hannah’s face, then brought up an item of more immediate concern that who thought what about who a decade ago.

 

            "I don’t know about you, but I’m suddenly reminded of how much I had to drink at brunch and I don’t quite fancy squatting somewhere in the bushes,"  Moira said, a touch of urgency in her tone.  "My room isn’t that far from here, so do you mind if we make a little detour before heading back to the main complex?”

 

            She hadn’t really thought about it, but Moira’s comment caused Hannah to recall how many mimosas she’d consumed as well.  The feeling wasn’t yet uncomfortable, but a trip to the ladies room didn’t sound like a bad idea.

 

                                                -=-=-=-

 

            "You‘re staying here?"  Hannah asked in surprise ten minutes later as they stood outside the two-level chalet.

 

            Situated on the extreme edge of the property were four stand alone buildings that served as couples only housing.  Usually reserved by newlyweds or those seeking a private romantic getaway, they were, from what Hannah remembered from reading on the resort’s website, quite expensive.

 

            "Well, it’s not much, but it’ll do,"  Moira said, causing Hannah to look at her with confusion until she realized the older woman was trying to be funny.

 

            "Even with the discount, this had to cost a bundle,"  Hannah heard herself say much too loud.

 

            "Actually, it’s not costing me more than a regular room back in the main complex,"  Moira replied.

 

            "How did you manage that?"  Hannah asked.

 

            "Both of  Mr. Reeves’s granddaughters go to the school where I teach,"  Moira explained.  "Evidently, someone took note of that when I made my reservation and moved me to one of the chalets. I didn’t find out about it until I checked in yesterday.  I told them it wasn’t necessary, but they said that  ‘the boss’ was adamant about it, so here I am."

 

            "Lucky you," Hannah said as she looked at the small house again.

 

            "I hate to rush you,"  Moira said as she started to look slightly uncomfortable, “but I really need to…."

 

            With no need to say more, the older woman disappeared through a set of sliding patio doors, leaving them open behind her for Hannah.  Her need not as urgent, Hannah walked to the lower entrance at a much more leisurely pace.      

 

                                                -=-=-=-

 

            Stepping inside, Hannah paused in surprise.  The lower half of the house was divided into two halves, a small living space with a circular couch in front of  a fireplace and a…a what?  She really wasn't sure what you call it because bathroom really seemed too common a word.

 

            Wood paneled on one wall and lined with floor to ceiling mirrors on a third of the other, the space was almost as large as her studio apartment back home.  The floor was carpeted and, at the far end, she could see a glass enclosed shower, a sauna room for two and what one normally thought of as a bathroom, inside of which she would later see was a toilet and a small wall mounted sink.    

 

            The biggest surprise was the large ten by twenty pool built right into the floor in the center of the room.  Four foot deep, it had a ladder leading down into it on the left side, opposite the mirrored section of the wall. 

 

            "Unbelievable,"  Hannah said in a low voice.

 

            After a few minutes, Hannah heard Moira’s footsteps behind her as she exited the bathroom.  Unlike the clear glass of the other mini-rooms, the small cubicle had a smoked glass door.  Even in a setting such as this, some things still required a bit of privacy.  A privacy the younger woman now also made use of.       

 

            "So, what do you think of it?"  Moira asked Hannah as she exited the bathroom and found the older woman standing by the pool.  "Don't you just love it?" 

 

            "What's not to love?"  Hannah asked in return.  "I especially love the pool.  Back home, I have to go to the YWCA a half mile away if I want to swim.  If I had one of these I'd be in it every day."

 

            "I know, I was in it last night and again this morning,"  Moira replied.  "You can easily get spoiled by something like this."

 

            "I bet,"  Hannah agreed as she stood by the other end, looking down into the clear blue tinted water.  

 

            "I just had a thought,"  Moira said, taking a few steps along her side of the pool toward the broader walkway at the other end.  "Why don't we take a dip? You'll love it."

 

            "I don't know,"  Hannah replied, the tone of her response showing it to be half hearted.

 

            "There are plenty of towels,"  Moira said, pointing out an excessively large pile of them on a bench against the wall,  "and it's heated."  she added as an incentive.

 

            "I don't have a suit,"  Hannah said in an even less convincing voice.

 

            "Do we really need suits?"  Moira asked, the look on her face saying more than her words.  "After all, it’s just us girls here."

 

            Hannah didn't miss Moira’s use of we instead of you, obviously she intended to swim nude as well.  If she was comfortable doing so after Hannah's earlier revelation, how could she offend her by saying she wasn't?

 

            "Okay,"  she relented,  "it sounds like fun."

 

            "It will be,"  Moira smiled.

 

            At that, the Moira slipped off her vest, dropping it on the floor where it wouldn't get wet.  Then, as casually as could be, she began to undo her blouse, quickly working her way down the line of buttons until she was able to slip that off as well.

 

            Now clad only in her bra and slacks, she glanced at Hannah who was still standing there fully clothed, the expression on her face saying "Well?"

 

            Hannah hadn't even realized that she had been staring.  The sight of the woman she had spent countless classroom hours, and nearly just as many evening ones,  mentally disrobing, now doing so for real only a dozen feet away, had totally mesmerized her.  She now wondered if maybe this wasn’t so good an idea after all.

 

            After a heartbeat's pause, Moira turned her gaze away from Hannah and, reaching to the clasp between the hemispheres of her bra, undid it.  She tossed the simple white bra in the direction of her shirt and vest, bringing her hand back to her rounded breasts to rub them for the briefest of moments – her fingers running across the light flesh and the darker nipples in one quick motion.

 

            Snapping out of her trance, Hannah finally started to move, reaching up to each shoulder and sliding off the straps of her dress.  With only a band of elastic around her waist holding it on, it took little effort to remove the sundress and lay it, as Moira had done, far enough away from the pool to keep dry.  The backless bra, held on with clear adhesive, took even less effort, leaving the younger woman in only her panties and shoes.  The latter took but a long breath, the panties only half that.  By the time she turned and looked up, Moira was as naked as she was.      

 

            The body before her was a decade older than the one she had once fantasized about and, while it didn't look like that of the thirty year old she’d once taken Moira to be, neither did it match what she imagined a woman pushing fifty to have.  There were some lines and slight bulges that attested to age, but overall it was a body still worthy of appreciation.  Obviously, the teacher took the health and care of her body seriously.

 

            Out of the corner of her eye, Hannah could see her own body reflected in the mirror beyond the pool.  She probably didn't take as serious as attitude toward body care as Moira did, but she had the forgiving advantage of young.  Her breasts were smaller and her nipples lighter, but they stood firm and strong.  She had always been proud of them.

 

            She also noticed that Moira had far less hair than she did over her pubic mound.  Hers was the result of careful trimming, but in the case of the older woman it seemed more of a natural occurrence.  In that she envied her.     

 

            "Shall we?"  Moira said, taking a step toward the pool.

 

            There, in a fluid motion, she dropped down, first to her knees, then onto her backside, sliding feet first into the warm water.  Hannah, after using a hair tie she'd gotten from her bag to tie back her locks, followed suite, electing to use the ladder alongside, holding the railing as she lowered herself.

 

            'This is nice,'  Hannah thought as the warmth of the water encompassed her body.

 

            The two of them began to swim around each other, each respecting the other's space as they moved side to side.  They kept it up for about a quarter of an hour, until, after complimenting Hannah on her swimming ability, Moira suggested a little race between them.

 

            "Just a quick couple of laps back and forth down the length of the pool,"  she proposed, "that is, if you don’t mind losing to an old lady."

 

            "Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?"  Hannah asked with a smile.

 

            "Always,"  Moira smiled back. 

 

            They settled on three laps and took up position on the far end. 

 

            "On three,"  Moira said as they braced themselves against the wall.  "One … Two … Three!"

 

            In a burst of speed, both women kicked off and sped down the length of the pool.  Almost in unison, they reached the other end and turned fast.  It was quickly obvious that they were evenly matched, but in the last lap youth seemed to win out.            

 

            "You win," Moira said as, reaching their starting point a few seconds behind Hannah, she skid up along the side of the pool and grabbed hold of the tiled edge.     

 

            "Only by a hair,"  said Hannah, who had pulled herself up out of the water and was now sitting on the rim. 

 

            "A win is a win,"  Moira smiled as, with a push off the bottom, she also pulled herself up and out of the pool, landing right alongside Hannah,  "and to the victor go the spoils."

 

            "What spoils are you offering?"  Hannah laughed.

 

            "How about this?"  Moira replied, moving her head forward as she spoke.

 

            The press of Moira's lips on hers took Hannah by surprise, but that faded almost instantly, giving way to delight as she took in the warmth of the other woman's mouth.  For the smallest of moments, she felt the tip of Moira's tongue against her own, triggering a spark of excitement she could feel all the way down to her toes. 

 

                                                -=-=-=-

 

            "What was that?"  Hannah sputtered as their mouths moved apart.

 

            "I guess I should explain,"  Moira replied.

 

            "You think?"  was all Hannah could say.    

 

            The second hand of the clock on the wall made a full quarter sweep before Moira said another word.  When she did, it certainly wasn't what Hannah expected.

 

            "I'm gay,"  she said.

 

            "Yeah, right,"  Hannah replied, thinking she was joking.

 

            "I'm serious,"  Moira said.

 

            The look on her face said that she was indeed.

 

            "When…?"  Hannah started to ask until she was cut off by Moira who already knew what the question was going to be.

 

            "Since I was old enough to realize the difference between girls and boys,"  she said,  "and knew without question which one I wanted to be with."

 

            Hannah let that sink in for a moment, then realized it didn't make sense.  

 

            "Wait a second,"  Hannah said,  "you were Mrs. Takahashi – you were married."

 

            "Oh, that,"  Moira smiled.  "I’m afraid that was just a bit of illusion to make life simpler .  There actually never was a Mr. Takahashi."

 

            "I don’t understand,"  Hannah said.

 

            "I made him up,"  Moira said.  "It’s as simple as that."

 

            "You what?"  Hannah asked.

 

            "I made him up,"  Moira repeated. 

 

            "How … Why?"

 

            "It was simple really,"  Moira explained.  "Every summer, I visit my father's family on Hokkaido for a month.  So one year, I came back and announced that while there I'd fallen in love with and married a distant cousin.  Unfortunately, family responsibilities would keep him from joining me here in California for a while."

 

            She paused for a breath, then expanded on the why.

 

            "At that point in my life, I wasn't ready to come out,"  she said,  "but I'd also grown tired of friends trying to fix me up – not to mention being looked upon as a prime catch by just about every single man I met.  So having a husband, one safely distant, seemed an ideal solution."

 

            "And that worked?"

 

            "Pretty much so,"  Moira replied.  "I was now off the market and basically nothing had changed, except there was now a ring on my finger and a different prefix in front of my name – a name that was still the same since we were ostensibly cousins."  

 

            "But eventually you came out, right?"  Hannah asked, realizing as she asked that she was making an assumption not in evidence.  The make believe marriage could very well have ended in an equally make believe divorce.    

 

            "Oh, I came out alright,"  Moira laughed.  "Although in my case, it wasn't so much as a matter of coming out of the closet as having the closet doors blown off their hinges."

 

            This, Hannah thought, was a story she wanted to hear.

 

            "It wasn't long after you graduated, no more than a year or so,"  Moira began.  "It was the night of the annual talent show, you remember those, don't you?  Anyway, some of us had stayed behind to help with cleanup and…well, to make a long story short, while checking the empty classrooms, one of the janitors walked in on me and Joyce Griffin sharing a kiss."

 

            "That doesn’t sound like such a big thing,"  Hannah commented, trying to match a face to the name Moira had just said.  The name did seem familiar, but she just couldn’t place it.  

 

            "Well,"  Moira added with a mischievous glint,  "there was also the fact that we had both the lights and our clothes off – well most of them anyway.  That made it a bit harder to explain."

 

            "Oh my,"  Hannah replied, unable to think of a excuse for that.

 

             "We must’ve looked like two deer in the headlights when that old man hit that wall switch,"  Moira laughed, able look back on it now with humor.   

 

            "What did he say?"  Hannah asked.

 

            "Absolutely nothing,"  Moira replied.  "We stared at each other for ten, maybe fifteen seconds, then he just ran off.  The two of us stood there, looking at each other, then burst out laughing.  It looked like we had dodged a bullet."

 

            It certainly sounded like that, Hannah thought, but there had to have been more to it if it made Moira come out.

 

            "Unfortunately, we celebrated too soon,"  Moira continued, confirming that thought,  "because, before we could get our clothes back on,  the janitor was back, with Principal Fletcher in tow.  That was when the shit really hit the fan."

 

            'Fuck!'  Hannah said to herself, trying the imagine the scene.

 

            "Now, I have to admit that, even before that night, Hazel Fletcher and I hadn't been on good terms for quite some time,”  Moira said,  “but even so, I was totally unprepared for the rancor that came out of her when she saw the two of us.  She said there was still a moral turpitude clause in the teacher's contract and she would see me fired if it was the last thing she did.  She was so convinced of her position that I was actually worried that I might be."

 

            "But?"  Hannah asked, knowing that if Moira was teaching at another school, she hadn't been fired from Central Valley – especially for anything like that.

 

            "But,"  Moira repeated,  "while I was stunned speechless, Joyce stepped right in and proceeded to set Hazel straight.  She pointed out that no teacher had been dismissed for moral turpitude in over forty years, unless it also involved criminal charges.  Regardless of the Principal’s personal beliefs, no laws had been broken, at least no secular ones.  At most, the two of them were guilty of poor judgment in having a tryst on school grounds – which was hardly the capital crime she was making it out to be.”      

 

            That made sense to Hannah, but experience had taught her that  even if you had the law on your side, you didn't always come out ahead.  At least not totally.

 

            "Principal Fletcher didn't want to hear it,"  Moira went on,  "insisting that she would see me fired.  That was when Joyce reminded her that there had been two of us there, and if I was guilty, so was she."

 

            "Didn't that mean she would just fire you both?"  Hannah asked.

 

            "It wasn't that simple,"  Moira said, not elaborating why. 

 

            The younger woman thought about it a bit, still not seeing the why of it.  Then it came to her.     

 

            "Joyce Griffin,"  she said, again searching her memory for the name.  "Was she related to Dr. Griffin, the president of the school board?"

 

            "Only by marriage,"  Moira grinned.  "She was his wife."

 

            Now that she had more of a point of reference, Hannah recalled the woman.  In her early fifties, a decade younger than her husband, Joyce stood five two with curly gray hair and what the art teachers called a Rubenesque physique.  She was also on the faculty as a hygiene teacher but Hannah had never been in one of her classes.   

 

            "Was Mrs. Griffin was also gay?"  Hannah asked.

 

            "Let's just say, she was… flexible,"  Moira smiled.  "But the bottom line was that Principal Fletcher couldn't go after me without going after Joyce, and that wasn't about to happen." 

 

            "That must've sent old lady Fletcher up the wall,"  Hannah laughed.

 

            "You have no idea,"  Moira replied.  "Still, it didn't take long for me to realize that while, officially at least, the incident never happened, I had turned Hazel Fletcher from an annoyance to an actual enemy – one that wasn’t going to rest until she saw me out of there.  So, a week later, I called my friend at Ravenswood Academy to see if the offer was still open.  It was, and I took it."

 

            "And Joy Griffin?"  Hannah inquired.

 

            "She wished me luck and had her husband write me a glowing letter of recommendation,"  Moira answered.  "It was never said, but I always had the impression that her husband knew all about her little affairs."

 

            "You didn't feel like you were running away?"  Hannah asked.

 

            "Not really.  If anything, I felt like I was moving forward,"  Moira explained.  "Like I said earlier, Ravenswood was a much more progressive school, so much so that when I moved, I left Mr. Takahashi behind forever.  I didn't wear a button on my lapel that said lesbian, but neither did I deny it if it came up.  There were a few long looks when I showed up with another woman on my arm at my first faculty function, but hardly any at the second."

 

            "So everything worked out for the best for you,"  Hannah remarked.

 

            "I think so,"  Moira smiled. 

 

            Hannah decided she was happy for her former teacher.

 

            "Which bring us back, I guess, to that kiss,"  Hannah pointed out.

 

            "You didn't enjoy it?" Moira asked.

 

            "Of course I did,"  Hannah replied, thinking that had to be obvious the way she had responded to it,  "but I was referring more to the why of it."

 

            "You're a beautiful young woman and I wanted to kiss you,"  Moira said. “Isn't that reason enough?”

 

            "Perhaps,"  Hannah replied,  "but I can’t help but wonder if there was something more to it than just that."

 

            Now it was Moira’s turn to exhibit a look of contemplation.  One that lasted last far longer than Hannah’s had.

 

            "And you would be right,"  Moira finally admitted.  “Since you were honest about the fantasies you once had about me, I should be equally honest about my own.”

 

            "Wait a second,”  Hannah said, a look of disbelief on her face.  “Are you actually saying you had fantasies about me?"

 

            “Why do you find that so unbelievable?”   Moira asked, picking up on her tone and facial expression. 

 

            “I don’t know,”  Hannah replied, unable to really give a reason. 

 

            “Even back then, you must’ve known what an attractive young woman you were,”  Moira pointed out.  “And I just don’t mean just in the physical sense.  I had to constantly remind myself that, regardless of how mature you appeared, you were still only sixteen years old – even more a forbidden fruit than the rest of the girls in my classes.”

 

            “I never imagined,”  Hannah said.

 

            “There was no reason you should have,”  Moira replied.  “After all, teachers aren't supposed to ever have thoughts like that – much less ever act on them.  And up until that point in my career, I’d never been tempted to do more than look.  But there were days when all it took was your smile to fill my head with the most inappropriate thoughts."   

 

            Despite her surprise at the admission, Hannah couldn’t help but wonder what those thoughts had entailed – or how they compared to the ones she’d had. 

 

            “You know, looking back at it now, it was probably a good thing that I had no inkling you harbored similar desires,”  Moira mused,  “because I can’t honestly say what I might’ve done.”

 

            ‘Nor I,’  Hannah heard her inner voice reply as she asked herself the question of how she might have responded if she’d known of Mrs. Takahashi’s attraction to her.    

 

            And while she didn’t have the answer to that question, it did give rise to a more urgent one - where do they go from here?

 

            "Well, as I see it, we have two options,"  Moira offered after Hannah expressed that last thought.  "We can simply dry off, get dressed and head back to the main complex.  I understand they have a Central Valley High trivia contest scheduled for two o'clock."

 

            "Or?"  Hannah asked.

 

            "Well we are already both naked,”  Moira said, stating the obvious.

 

            A dead silence hung in the air as Moira looked deep into Hannah’s eyes, trying to gauge her reaction.  None was immediately forthcoming.       

 

            "After all,"  she added as she reached out with her hand and stroked the side of Hannah's face with her knuckles,  "regardless of how we got here, isn't this where, at one time or another, each of us dreamed of being?"

 

            That was something Hannah couldn’t deny.  But there was still another  question on her mind, one she felt she needed to ask before answering the first.  

 

            “True,”  Hannah smiled,  “but I’m still curious about one thing.”

 

            “And that would be?”  Moira asked.


            “It’s pretty obvious that you planned all this,”  she replied,  “bringing us to where we are now.”

 

            That was something Moira didn’t try to deny.

 

            “So what I wondering was,”  Hannah continued,  “at what point did you decide to try and seduce me?”

 

            "Does it matter?”  Moira asked in return

 

            "Probably not,"  Hannah grinned,  "but still, I’m curious.”

 

            “Well, back when I first spotted you at the brunch…”  Moira started to say.

 

            “When you had no reason to think I was anything but straight,”  Hannah interrupted. 

 

            “When I had no reason to think you were anything but straight,”  Moira echoed.  “At that point, well, I’ll admit it wasn’t much more than a wishful thought.”

 

            Hannah smiled.

 

            “But when I found out that you weren’t, well…”  Moira said, her own smile growing brighter. 

 

            Moira’s answer really had no bearing on Hannah’s response.  It was just something she wanted to know.  Even if the thrill of the single kiss they’d shared hadn’t left her wanting more, the spark of excitement as Moira’s bare flesh had touched hers was enough to cause her to toss caution to the wind.  After all, be it by destiny or contrivance, how often did you get a second chance to live a fantasy?         

 

                                                -=-=-=-

 

            The second kiss they shared was initiated by Hannah, carrying with it all the fire of her youthful desires, the fervor shared reflected in the racing of both their hearts.

 

            “There’s a quite comfortable bed just above us,”  Moira said in a breathless whisper as their lips parted.

 

            Hannah replied with an enticing smile and a mischievous gleam in her eyes.  She took her former teacher in hand and, rather than head towards the stair leading to the bedroom above, turned instead to the glass enclosed shower for two on the other side of the room.         

 

            Sliding open the clear door, Hannah reached inside and, turning the single handle, sent a heavy stream of water flowing from the overhead shower fixture.  It took a few moments for the water to reached temperature, but once the hand she had extended under it told her it had, she invited Moira to precede her inside.           

 

            Quickly following her, Hannah took a bottle of body wash from the small shelf inside the shower, pouring a lavish amount into her left hand.  Then, returning the bottle, she transferred half the amount to her other hand.

 

            "Hmm, I think I like where this is going,"  Moira remarked with an anticipatory smile as Hannah reached out and laid a soapy hand on each of her breasts, rubbing each vigorously, her fingers paying special attention to the now erect nipples.   

 

            Leaning inward, Hannah pressed her breasts against Moira’s, rubbing the soft globes together, nipple against nipple even as their lips met once more.  Her foamy hands glided across the older woman’s body, along her waist to the small of her back, then down along the cheeks of her ass.  Sliding down the deep crack, she spread her fingers outward and ran them across each mound.

 

            "Mmmmm,"  Moira purred in encouragement.

 

            Bending her knees, Hannah brought her hands first down one of Moira's legs, then up the other, covering them with the rich scented lather.  One hand continued across her stomach, again working its way across Moira's breasts.  At the same time, her other hand rolled between the teacher's legs, spreading them apart to expose her womanhood and then the folds of her flower to reveal the treasure within.   

 

            "God, you have a beautiful pussy,"  Hannah said, glancing upward at Moira with appreciation.  "You have no idea how many times I tried to imagine what it might look like."

 

            "Probably no more than I tried to picture yours,"  Moira laughed softly in return.  "So, tell me, does it match your expectations?"

 

            Rather than answer with words, Hannah leaned forward and kissed the center of Moira's mound, a brief touch that sent an exciting shiver through the older woman.  

 

            Rising back to her feet, Hannah turned Moira around to face the glass walls.  Refilling her hands with soap, she spread it all over the taller woman's back.  Again she pressed her body against Moira's, her own sex brushing against the cheeks of her ass. 

 

            "This is fun,"  Moira said as she turned in Hannah's arms, pressing their breasts together a second time while their mouths met in another long kiss.  One followed by a second, then a third, each deeper and more intense than the last. 

 

            Slipping out of Hannah's embrace, Moira helped herself to the body wash, proceeding to cover her former student's body with it.  Nimble hands slid across Hannah's breasts, coating them with foam before dropping to her knees and bringing her hands along the sides of Hannah's waist and then over her thighs to converging on the dark haired mound between.  Allowing the cleansing water to wash the area clear, she parted the folds of Hannah's pussy, exposing the bright pinkness within.

           

            Moira pressed her head forward and ran her tongue slowly up the length of Hannah's sex, the tip of it caressing her clit for long moments, teasing the sensitive pearl.

 

            "Oh yes," Hannah moaned softly as she let her back rest again the clear wall behind her.  "That feels so good."

 

            "And it's going to feel even better,"  Moira replied as she tilted her head upward, her tone rich in promise. 

 

            She brought her head back between Hannah's legs and slipped her tongue inside her, again searching out her prize.  In no time at all, her tongue was but a blur as she filled the younger woman with delight.  With one hand firmly on Hannah's ass, Moira closed her other around the brunette's left breast, again tweaking her hard nipple – an action she repeated on its twin.     

 

            An inexplicable sense of urgency filled Moira, as if she feared that all of this would suddenly be revealed as only a dream – one that might suddenly fade away into nothingness.  Irrational as that fear might be, it spurred her to bring her considerable skill and experience to bear, bringing the woman pressed against her to the edge of bliss in a very short span. 

 

            "Oh God, oh God, oh my God!"  Hannah echoed, her body quaking with excitement as reverberating waves of delight rippled across her naked form.

 

            Knowing the moment she had dreamed of a decade before was now here, Moira plunged her tongue as deep as it would go inside Hannah, using both hands to grab her ass cheeks and pull her even tighter against her face.  It was that last thrust that sent Hannah spiraling over the edge. 

 

            It was hardly Hannah’s first orgasm, but it was one she had dreamed of for a decade.  One that made her feel like the teenage girl she once was.    

 

            "That… was unbelievable!”  Hannah exclaimed breathlessly once she finally regained her breath, a long minute later.

 

            "Good, huh?"  Moira, who had lifted herself back up in the interval, asked with a satisfied grin.

 

            "Fuck yeah!"  Hannah replied, letting out another long breath. 

 

            Now it was Hannah's turn.

 

            She started at Moira's mouth, exploring its inner reaches before working her way down across her neck, to the rich valley between the older woman's breasts.  There Hannah closed her lips around Moira's left breast, pulling the nipple deep in her mouth as she reached out with her tongue to stroke the hard tip, bestowing lavish attention on it.  Then she shifted to the other mound, duplicating her devotions. 

 

            Leaving a train of soft kisses and deep caresses, Hannah moved down Moira's stomach and below her waist – finally coming to the treasure she had only briefly tasted before.  This time she was determined to feast on the sweet ambrosia.   

 

            She extended a finger, running it along the center of Moira's lightly haired mound, then pressed just hard enough to have it slip between the folds.  A second and third finger followed, each reaching deep inside, clearing a path for an equally penetrating tongue.  

 

            Once her tongue had penetrated, she ran it along the walls of Moira's pussy, sending yet another pleasing ripple rolling across her body.  She did it a second time, then a third, moving deeper and quicker with each repetition.  And along with each new taste of nectar, the coals of desire grew hotter.

 

            Now it was Moira's turn to lean back against the wall, close her eyes, and enjoy the attention.    

 

            Soft moans of pleasure filled the air as Hannah’s nimble fingers and tongue worked her own particular brand of magic.  She may not have had Moira’s decades of experience, but there was something to be said for youthful exuberance.  Each successive touch sent a wave of delight across Moira’s body, a tide building in strength and frequency.   

 

            With her mouth pressed tight against Moira's pussy, Hannah’s tongue darted to and fro, working its way across her sensitive places.  Spots that produced the most satisfying joys, evidenced by Moira’s increasing moans of appreciation.  

 

            As Moira drifted in a sea of bliss, Hannah’s mind again rolled back the years, recalling the days, and, more importantly, the nights when today’s reality was but a forbidden fantasy.  If she could’ve looked into the thoughts of the woman she was trying so hard to pleasure, Hannah would’ve found similar recollections.       

 

            The conflagration Hannah’s efforts had ignited in Moira continued to gain strength, sending her spiraling down a whirlpool of ecstasy.  Moira had brought her hands to her own breasts, squeezing the supple flesh  tightly, adding to her pleasures.  Knowing her climax was so very near, she found herself filled with an unexpected ambiguity.  On one hand, she greatly wanted to reach that goal, especially at the hand, and mouth, of the woman who was bringing her there.  On the other, part of her didn’t want the journey to end. 

 

            The former won over the latter as the tidal forces building within her cascaded over her last barrier of resistance, causing her body to shudder in ecstasy as she hurtled into the abyss.  It was one of the most satisfying orgasms she could remember, made more so by the fact of who had given it to her.

 

                                                -=-=-=-

 

            They eventually did make it up to the second floor bedroom, where they enjoyed an encore performance.  One not as urgent, but with an end result equally satisfying.  So much so that immediately afterwards, they dozed off  in each other’s arms, enjoying the sleep of the contented – not to wake until the sun had begun to drop beneath the horizon.      

 

            "Oh my lord, look at the time,"  Moira called as she lifted her head and the clock on the nightstand came into focus.  "We're slept the rest of the day away."

 

            Rolling over in response to her outcry, Hannah leaned over the older woman's body to see the time for herself.  Then she leaned down  and kissed her on the shoulder.

 

            "Was there some place that you needed to be?"  Hannah inquired.     

 

            "Yes, I mean no,"  Moira replied.  "I just meant that we've missed just about all of the day's events."

 

            Considering what she’d read of the program at the brunch, Hannah found the comment surprising. 

 

            "Do you really think that trivia and checking out old yearbooks would’ve been half as interesting as the way we spent our afternoon?"  Hannah asked.

 

            "No, of course not,"  Moira smiled.

 

            "Then, I guess it would be fair to say that anything scheduled for tomorrow would pretty much fall into the same category, don’t you think?"  Hannah added.

 

            It didn't escape Moira's notice that, as she'd asked her question, Hannah had shifted her body so as to let the thin sheet she had been wrapped in fall away, giving a clear view of her nakedness.

 

            "That would probably be true,"  she agreed with an even broader smile.

 

            "So skipping tomorrow’s events would be no great loss either,"  Hannah said, returning the smile.

 

            "I guess not,"  Moira said, shifting herself to face Hannah, 
“but since the reunion runs to Monday morning, however shall we pass the time?”

 

            “Oh, I’m sure we’ll think of something,”  Hannah grinned as they closed the distance between them and met in the middle for a kiss. 

 

END







(c) Ann Douglas 2016  













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