AUTHOR’S NOTE: This story takes place sometime in the past. As the reader, I leave it up to you to decide the year or decade. For starters, you might enjoy reading Shari Holds a Torch–also please check out Shari Takes a Wife. This story features large age differences and student-teacher dynamic. If this sort of story is not your thing, skip this. For everyone else…please enjoy!
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Back to school.
It is a phrase that is universally dreaded by students and teachers alike. The hot hazy days of summer vacation are winding down and would soon be a distant fond memory. The days would inevitably grow shorter, colder, and darker. The first days of the new school year usher feelings of eager anticipation. The seemingly endless halls of Talcott High school are a space where curiosity and creativity are close sisters…the sky’s the limit for those who wanted to learn.
But the first day also brings along the usual jitters, getting lost in the halls, forgetting locker combos, and adjusting to new teachers. Shari Keefer was one person among many who was slightly on edge as she opened the door to her new classroom and stepped inside. She switched on the lights, and instantly a soft breeze caressed her lovely face. Its scent was that of old books and chalk dust, and suddenly her mind seemed to lose its stable ground as she fell head first into a hole of distant memories.
It was Shari Keefer’s first day as a new Social Studies’ teacher at Talcott even though the school year hasn’t officially started yet. Today was an institute day filled with professional development meetings and sharing curriculum ideas. After a pleasant lunch shared with her new colleagues, Shari was free to visit her new classroom and re-arrange it as she saw fit. She reached for another decorative border and began to finish the wall next to the blackboard when her mind began to wander.
Shari Keefer had graduated from Talcott years ago. Since then she’d gone to nearby Blake College, earned a teaching degree, and taught Social Studies’ at Walker High until this year. As a student, she’d been a pretty yet rebellious teen who enjoyed antagonizing her teachers. Now she is an alluring 28 year old woman with lustrous light blond hair and lovely delicate features that gave her an innocent doll-like appearance which never failed to turn heads everywhere she went.
The gorgeous blond stepped away from the wall and surveyed her handiwork. She went over to one of two large cabinets in the back of the room, unlocked it, and began putting away a large stack of textbooks. For a split second, she wished she’d brought along a camera to snap a photo of her new classroom. She certainly wasn’t new to teaching, but her stomach still churned with a strange mixture of anticipation and fear…would she be able to do a good job? Will she connect with her students, or would this year be a total flop?
Shari’s memories as a student were pleasant. And although she was at best academically average, she had her looks, good friends, and an enviable social life. When she’d finished stacking the last of the textbooks, Shari closed the cabinet and locked it. She turned and slowly headed toward the door. Her mind was in a fog as she briefly recalled days spent in this very same classroom years ago. Suddenly she wasn’t standing there. Instead, she was sitting in the second row, third desk from the back as her old Social Studies’ teacher, Mr. Borland, droned pointlessly on about the Pullman Strike.
Her sapphire blue eyes turned to stare at the wall clock near the door. It was 7th hour, the last period of the day. She knew she was supposed to be taking notes, but the furry temptation of sleep was quickly beginning to take over, pulling her further into the depths of her memories. She began to release her grip on her pen, as Mr. Borland’s droning continued:
“…of course, Mr. Pullman offered to let employees examine the company’s books proving that the works were running at a loss…”
Shari heaved a gusty sigh and reluctantly leaned over to retrieve her pen. Ugh, two more minutes, she thought. She had somewhere she needed to be after the final bell rang. She’d been late again to one of her other classes and that teacher demanded her presence after school today.
Mr. Borland paused and looked disapprovingly over the top of his glasses. “I don’t know why everyone is packing up. There’s still a few minutes left, not that it really matters. Remember, class; I dismiss you, not the bell.”
The blond beauty was snapped out of her daydream by the jarring ‘briing’ of the bell, made louder by the emptiness of the room. The door opened and a custodian entered. He noticed Shari standing there looking a bit out of sorts.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, young lady!” The man said. He grabbed the trash can next to Shari’s desk and swapped out the bags. “Must’ve been the bell, huh? We gotta test ’em about once a month, you know how these things are.”
“Yeah, I should’ve escort mecidiyeköy known that.” Shari replied with a nervous chuckle. “It’s my first year here, but they did the same thing when I was teaching at Walker.”
The two of them exchanged a few more pleasantries before the custodian moved on to the next classroom. Shari Keefer stood there now, and once again, her mind began to wander back to the land of distant memories. There was something about her old high school that made her feel tingly, something pulling her from her classroom and into the empty hall. That same something led the blond beauty to put one foot in front of the other, chasing a siren song of long ago.
That siren song was a memory of a time when she was a senior. She’d been seeing Scott Palmer, co-captain of the varsity football team. They’d broken up recently, but for some strange reason, Shari didn’t really mind. She couldn’t quite put her finger on why, but she really wasn’t very interested in him anyway—in fact, she wasn’t really interested in boys, period!
A distant, haunting sort of echoing lured Shari down the second floor wing. After making a right turn, she was walking down the main hall past the boys’ bathroom. Two fellow teachers, Mr. Lightcap and Mrs. Millard stopped and exchanged a quick hello with the blond beauty before heading down the nearest stairwell. The echoing sounds became louder as Shari continued on towards the distant opposite end of the building.
As she continued on, the hall widened and now she was standing in a large common area with two floor to ceiling trophy cases and a shuttered window with a sign that said ‘concessions’ over the top. From the looks of things, the walls must have been freshly painted. A small scaffold and folding ladder was pushed off to one side, and several plaques were waiting on a nearby table; Sectional and Regional team trophies ready to be replaced.
Shari sniffed the air and wrinkled her nose as the smell of new paint permeated her nostrils. She appreciated seeing the vivid blue and white school mascot, the Harrier dog, followed by a sleek blue stripe that implied speed. Over the doors to the main gym, was the Talcott High slogan: This is Harrier Country! The doors to the main gym were open, and now the sounds that brought Shari here were much louder. It was a familiar sound of deafening high-pitched squeaks of sneaker soles against polished wood and echoes bouncing off the walls and spilling into the common area.
Shari stood in the open doorway, listening and watching. The gym teachers were in the middle of a vigorous half-court basketball game. By the looks of things, they were playing men against the women. A rhythmic sound, not unlike an erratic heartbeat was suddenly followed by a familiar swishing sound of ball against net. An off-key chorus of groans was drowned out by a triumphant cheer.
“Heh, nice try, Diane, but you seem to be a day late and a dollar short!”
Mr. Ike Linley, known affectionately by the whole school as “Coach” did a triumphant little dance underneath the net, the ball in his control. The tall, cordial looking black man is the head varsity football coach and PE department head. Shari smiled and fought the urge to laugh when she saw fellow PE teacher, Diane Lusby, trying to snatch the ball away from her colleague.
With a wry grin, Coach Linley dodged to one side, and Miss Lusby groaned “Aw, come on, Ike!” Coach Linley stood near the free-throw line as the other four PE teachers in their department looked on. He bounced the ball several times, and Shari could hear the ‘ping-ping’ against the polished hardwood floor. He began to walk it up the court, and then dodged once more just as Miss Blount managed to steal it.
“Hey…” Coach Linley lunged at Miss Blount.
“Not fast enough,” Miss Blount huffed. “You reach, I teach.”
Ping-ping, stop! Ping-ping, stop! Miss Blount bounced the ball a few times and shot a knowing glance at Miss Lusby who was standing behind Coach Callahan, Mr. Mapes, and Mrs. Horton just stood there with their eyes on Coach Linley. Now Shari stared as the Amazon woman started bouncing the ball towards the free-throw line.
“Hey, that’s travelling!” Mr. Mapes shouted.
Ping-ping-ping-ping-ping-ping, stop! For a second or two, time seemed to stand still as Miss Blount threw a hook shot. The ball sliced through the air towards the net, and then WHAM-WHAM against the backboard. It bounced off the rim twice and fell directly into Coach Linley’s hands. Miss Blount was cursing under her breath while the guys let out another triumphant whoop. It was hard to tell how long they’d been playing. It didn’t matter much to Shari anyway. Her attention was on Miss Blount.
Miss Velma Blount is Shari’s lover and “wife,” though not officially since society in those long ago days did not consider same-sex relationships to be socially acceptable. And although Velma’s colleagues were used to her, Shari was discreetly escort bayan istanbul referred to as her roommate. Miss Velma Blount is a remarkably fit athletic butch woman who stood as tall as Coach Linley at 6’2″. Recently Miss Blount celebrated her 55th birthday. Her age, combined with her fitness, stature and overtly masculine features, made for a rather alarming appearance. More often than not, Miss Blount scared her students—especially the freshman girls during their first few weeks.
Miss Blount paused for a moment on the sidelines to have a drink and talk with Mrs. Horton while the others continued to play. The Amazon woman’s appearance certainly was alarming…and intensely butch. Like her colleagues, she was incredibly lean and strapping. Her light sandy hair was cropped in a sensible, very short pageboy style with blunt bangs. She’d kept the same style for many years, and Shari recalled once when a classmate of hers got into an argument with the gym teacher during class. It was her friend, Edith. She asked Miss Blount what size mixing bowl she used to cut her hair with. Shari didn’t remember exactly what was said after that, but Edith was forced to run laps for the rest of the period.
Long before they became lovers, Miss Blount had been Shari Keefer’s gym teacher. The blond beauty turned and headed towards the girls’ PE office nearby. The door was propped open and she could hear the droning hum of a box fan sitting near the opened window. Shari sat down behind the desk and her mind continued to wander. And as the breeze from the fan blew through her light blond tresses, Shari remembered the times when Miss Blount brought the fan along to class on hot days like this. It didn’t really help though. The fan seemed to do little more than blow hot air around the gym while everyone stood there feeling miserable.
When she was a freshman, Shari heard some of the stories going around about Miss Blount. Not much was ever said about Miss Lusby or Mrs. Horton, but she remembered during her first week at Talcott, a senior named Linda Boylan wasted no time trying to warn her and the other freshman girls about the towering butch gym teacher. It reminded her of those really old movies where there was a newsboy standing on a street corner yelling “Extra! Extra! Read all about it!”
Everyone was down in the locker room changing after a sweltering game of dodgeball in the main gym. Miss Blount decided that they should join Miss Lusby’s junior/senior class because it was raining too hard that day to go outside. Shari’s friend, Irene Olafson, spent part of the period lobbing balls at a couple girls she decided were trying to suck up to both gym teachers. Once class was over and they were changing at their lockers, Linda started in. Linda was Miss Blount’s student assistant assigned to their class. She always jumped at any opportunity to mess with the freshmen and throw her weight around.
“Better watch your asses, ladies, or old Miss Blount will try to turn you. Don’t spend too long in the showers or she might think you’re interested!”
“What?” Shari was obviously caught off-guard. She looked over at Irene who just nodded dismissively.
“Thanks. Don’t need your help, we know all about it.”
Linda looked perturbed. “Then how come your friend’s asking?” She demanded. “Look—personally I could care less, but somebody has to warn the new girls about that ugly old freak!”
Shari started to ask Irene again what Linda was talking about, but she was cut off. Irene jerked her thumb at a group of nearby girls from their class. Some of them were huddled together, trying their best to get their gym suits off as fast as they could and back into their regular clothes. Shari knew right away that they were hoping no one would notice that none of them bothered to shower.
“Hey, why don’t you go tell them if it bothers you so much?”
Shari couldn’t keep quiet any longer. What in the hell was Linda Boylan talking about anyway? Why did they need to watch their asses? And what in the hell did Linda mean by Miss Blount trying to “turn” them? When Linda was finally dressed and out of earshot, Irene offered Shari her best shot at an explanation.
“We kind of got lucky today.” Irene said matter-of-factly. “Hurry up before someone in here notices that we didn’t get in the showers today!”
Shari Keefer’s hands were positively shaking now. She did her best to wad up her dark blue gym suit before shoving it haphazardly into her locker along with the new white sneakers her mom bought from the Montgomery Ward at the Calloway Shopping Center a few weeks earlier. The gorgeous blond was desperate for an explanation. Irene stood there talking like it was nothing.
“Linda’s an idiot, but she’s right though. Miss Blount is a goddamn queer!”
Shari just stared at her friend in shocked silence. Now Irene’s eyes got all wide as she snatched her book bag out of her locker.
“Miss Blount’s a…what?”
“Aw escort bayan şişli come on, Shari! You know—she’s a queer, a lesbian, a bulldyke!”
Shari was intrigued, but she was still a little stunned. “How do you know that?” She reached for her book bag and peered in the general direction of the showers.
“I asked my mom about it last night, that’s how I know.” Irene said. “She used to go here—remember? Plus I heard some of the senior girls saying earlier that Miss Blount sometimes stands around the showers.” Irene jabbed Shari with her elbow for emphasis. “I guess that old rug muncher wants to see a live hootchy-cooch show!” Irene giggled at her levity. “Well she ain’t gonna see me…not as long as I can get away with it!”
A sudden tingling raced down Shari’s back, and the blond beauty shuddered. She’d never forget how she stood there that day feeling the color draining from her lovely face. She was so afraid of Miss Blount possibly catching her naked by chance in the locker room. Back then, she had no idea that by senior year, the two of them would slowly build a lasting, intense relationship. Her cheeks turned pink and her face felt hot. She was glad Irene never found out about her and Miss Blount. After her sophomore year in college, Irene transferred to the local state university and the two friends sort of drifted apart.
It was during her senior year when Shari and Miss Blount really began getting to know each other. After she’d been forced to stay after school with the towering gym teacher for coming late to class, Shari developed a habit of stopping by the girls’ PE office during lunch or after school to talk to Miss Blount. In the meantime the strapping butch gym teacher learned that the blond beauty loved flowers and books filled with beautiful poetry. English class was her favorite that year even though she decided in college that she liked History better. One afternoon, Shari managed to fluster Miss Blount when they were talking alone. Miss Blount nervously asked her if she had a boyfriend, and Shari told her that she’d been seeing Scott Palmer.
Miss Blount’s rugged face seemed to register a look of disappointment. Shari wondered for a second or two if the gym teacher was jealous, but at the time, she wasn’t certain.
“Oh I see.” The prodigious woman replied. “Mr. Palmer is co-captain of the varsity football team this year, isn’t he? Lucky you!”
“But Scott broke things off with me a few weeks ago.” Shari said demurely.
From that day forward, Shari could feel Miss Blount’s glacial blue eyes staring obsessively at her each time she came to class. She always tried to act unaware, but deep down it was thrilling. She knew it was wrong to tease her gym teacher, but she didn’t care. She wanted to break this taboo; to be chased and caught—and turned by this strapping older butch woman.
Shari Keefer wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there thinking about days gone by. She was about to get up and leave the PE office when a familiar gruff voice prickled the skin around her ears.
“What do you think you’re doing, Keefer?”
Miss Velma Blount stood there with her arms folded; her slim 6’2″ frame filling the doorway. Miss Lusby came up behind her, and for a few seconds, the two gym teachers exchanged some lighthearted banter before Miss Blount waved and said something about giving her colleague a call later.
After all these years, Miss Blount still looked unbelievably intimidating! Even though today was an institute day, she wore the school colors—a powder blue short-sleeved shirt and matching knee-length plaid shorts. The older woman’s hair was slightly damp and Shari noticed a few obvious patches of sweat showing through the shirt, otherwise it was Miss Blount…same as always.
Shari decided to tease her wife a little. “I just thought I’d come by to see you after doing a little decorating in my new classroom, Velma. It really looks great, you should see it.” And then Shari noticed the hardened look on the gym teacher’s rugged face. “Am I going to be in trouble for sitting in here?”
Velma Blount leered grotesquely at her beautiful young wife. She took a step towards Shari and snatched up her clipboard which was sitting on top of the desk beside the box fan. Perhaps it was nerves that had an instant effect over the blond beauty, or maybe it was something else. The towering old dyke noticed Shari’s nipples were starting to swell a bit. The tiny pinpricks of flesh cast an obvious titillating impression against the thin fabric of the girl’s t-shirt. Velma also noticed Shari’s face growing a bit flushed although she wasn’t sure whether it was from fear, embarrassment, or excitement. This was one day Velma was thankful for these otherwise boring institute days. The school building was mostly empty by now. A perfect opportunity presented itself.
Velma, deciding to play along, put on her “teacher hat” as she considered the unexpected possibilities. This was surprisingly still easy to do after their years together. Even though Shari has been a fellow teacher for the last five years, the towering old dyke still saw her as a student; a young girl. The large discrepancy in their age emphasized this, and for Velma, that imbalance of power always felt incredibly sexy.