Back To School 6

Barry stared out the window of the skyliner car on the train ride home from a summer with Jane and Dick. It had been an emotional departure, both last night and this morning at the depot. Some private time with Jane last night had permitted an emotion-charged exchange of feelings. Dick had insisted on taking him to the train depot this morning, and he was glad that Jane had remained behind after kissing him goodbye -- a very mother-like kiss.

In spite of the breathtaking scenery that marked most of the distance between Jane and Dick’s beach house and his home with his parents, Barry stared without seeing. His thoughts were fixed on the weeks of joy he was leaving behind with his mother’s former college roommate. Jane had given him a summer he was unlikely to forget. The details, in fact, were etched deeply into his memory.

Only in the last hour or two of an eight-hour train ride did he start to think about being back at home and returning to school. The first day of school was only a day away, with tomorrow being Labor Day. He would barely have time to get his act together, and he knew he was in trouble for missing the past week’s football practices. If it were not for his extraordinary throwing arm, the coach would probably have benched him -- or maybe even dropped him from the roster. As it was, the team desperately needed his skill.

Barry’s mom was waiting for him at the train station. He could see her jumping up and down halfway down the boarding area as he stepped off the train. She ran to meet him as he pulled his backpack onto his shoulder and picked up his heavy gear bag.

“Baby, you have such a tan!” She slipped an arm around his waist and kissed his cheek as they walked together toward the parking area.

“Mom, I’m not a baby anymore.”

“Hey, you’re my baby and always will be. It’s inescapable, Barry, so resign yourself to it! Did you have a great time with Dick and Jane?”

“Fun with Dick and Jane,” Barry quipped, quoting an expression often used by his dad that borrowed from a grade school reader. “It was great, Mom. I loved the summer school class, and you couldn’t ask for better living conditions. Jane and Dick were both great.” He swallowed hard, hoping his mother never learned how great Jane had been.

“Your dad is planning the usual barbeque for tomorrow, honey. He sure is looking forward to seeing you. So is your sister.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing them too, Mom.” Barry turned to kiss her on the cheek as they approached the car. His mother literally beamed with pride over her tall, muscular first-born.

The drive home took less than twenty minutes, and Barry’s mom chattered almost non-stop, bringing him up-to-date on family and neighborhood matters. He listened with one ear, while his thoughts still lingered on the adventure that he had left behind in San Diego.

After greeting his father and sister, Barry retreated to his room to unpack and give some thought to a school schedule that was only a day away. Jane had done all of his laundry before his departure, and his mom seemed almost disappointed that she had been deprived of the task.

The barbeque brought the usual horde of friends and family. Barry took note that his younger sister had acquired considerably more shape and a decent tan during the weeks that he had been gone. Her new boyfriend seemed innocent enough, but Barry kept an eye on him throughout the barbeque. His fourteen-year-old sister was too young, in his judgment, to become the sexual victim of some punk with pimples.

***************************

Determined to get an early start on the first day of school, Barry said his “goodnights” and turned in before nine-thirty. He drifted off to sleep in minutes and slept soundly until his alarm jarred him awake at 6:00 a.m. He showered quickly, dressed and bounded downstairs to his usual breakfast of dry cereal, milk and fruit.

“What are you doing up so early, honey?” his mother asked through half-opened eyes as she padded into the kitchen.

“I’ve got to get to school early, Mom. Coach is going to need some serious explaining for me to be forgiven for missing the past week’s football practices.”

“Well, he’ll understand that you were taking important classes for summer school, honey. He has to respect that.”

“He’s a football coach, Mom. He’s not the dean. But I think I can make him see my point-of-view.”

She smiled as she bent to kiss him on the forehead. He patted her arm affectionately as he rose to charge out the door.

**************************

Trudging through the first day of classes was more procedural than educational. Each of Barry’s teachers spent the better part of the 50 minutes outlining the coursework for the semester and setting expectations. He took careful notes in spite of general boredom.

The single exception was his new English teacher. Claire Smith was a 30-something woman who was either single or divorced -- or so he assumed, given the absence of a ring. There was something about her that struck him as incredibly sexy. Maybe it was the way she walked, or the way her mouth moved when she spoke, or the way she leaned back against her desk with apparent disregard for the visual impact of her torso in a close-fitting dress.

She also seemed a strange mix of confidence and shyness. He couldn’t quite figure it out. She was very assertive about the class and what she expected her students to accomplish. On the other hand, on a personal level she seemed much more shy -- someone Aunt Jane might call “submissive.” In any event, he looked forward to her class and hoped it would be as interesting as he suspected it could be.

Immediately following his final class, Barry reported to the gym to sign out his gear for football and to suit-up for practice. Coach took it surprisingly easy on him this first day, since he halfway expected some form of retribution for his having missed last week’s practice sessions. Nevertheless, he went home to dinner with most of his major muscle mass sore. After dinner he discussed the day’s events with his dad, read chapters from three textbooks in preparation for tomorrow’s classes, and turned in early.

*******************************

The next two weeks of classes held no surprises. Barry was careful to avoid the smart-aleck behavior for which members of the football team’s first string were notorious. Not only would his parents be outraged by any hint of such behavior, it simply wasn’t in his character. Most of his teachers regarded him highly, especially since he produced first-string results both in the classroom and on the football field.

Miss Smith -- or “Claire”, as he preferred to think of her -- turned out to be an inspiring teacher who was well liked by her students. He could not get over the idea that she smoldered with sexuality, and he thought he frequently caught her looking at him -- though he conceded that this could be his overactive imagination. She seemed to enjoy his classroom participation, always smiling at him when he spoke up or was called on.

Late in the second week of school during football practice, he looked up from a huddle and saw Claire sitting in the stands with the girl’s drill team coach. She raised her hand and wiggled her fingers in a subtle wave, and he nodded an acknowledgement as he moved quickly into formation for the next play. He was distracted for the remainder of practice, taking frequent careful glances into the stands to see if she remained there. He was disappointed when Coach sent the team to the showers to see that she had departed.

After Friday’s English class Barry loitered in order to be among the last students departing the classroom. He paused near Claire’s desk, waiting for her to turn and acknowledge him, and when she did, he said, “I didn’t know you were a football fan.”

“Oh,” she smiled, “Miss Smart asked me to go over the proofs of the homecoming program with her. But I do like football. I didn’t realize that you’re the quarterback.”

“Well, I am unless and until Coach puts me on the bench.”

“That doesn’t seem likely. At least not from what I hear, Barry. Everyone says you’re the team’s leader.” She smiled with this last remark and briefly touched his forearm with the fingertips of her right hand.

“Everyone exaggerates,” he said, his cheeks turning crimson with embarrassment. The touch of her hand on his arm sent jolts of sensation throughout his body.

“Are you giving enough time to your studies? We have that exam coming up week after next, you know.”

“I’ll be ready.”

“Well, if you need any additional help, you let me know.” Barry sensed a trace of embarrassment as Claire made the remark.

“Thanks. I’ll see you next week. Have a nice weekend.”

“You too, Barry.”

He turned and made himself walk to the door without looking back.

*****************************

Barry sat in his car at the edge of the student parking lot, where he had a clear view of the faculty parking lot. He read from the next chapter in his world history text, looking up frequently for any sign of Claire. He had waited nearly half an hour when he saw her crossing the parking lot in animated conversation with two other teachers. She waved goodbye to them as she slid into her car.

Waiting until she was out of the parking lot and onto the adjoining street, Barry started his car and followed at a distance of nearly a block. He wanted to see where she lived. It didn’t occur to him to question his curiosity. His impatience was tried when she pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store, but he had to wait less than ten minutes. She emerged with a single bag of groceries and walked quickly to her car.

After a five-minute drive, Claire pulled into the parking lot of a nice apartment building. Barry stopped just inside the entrance and pulled into an empty parking space. From this vantage point he was able to watch her park and walk to the entrance of her apartment. He took careful note of the unit number and decided he had better split for home.

**************************************

As much as he enjoyed his weekends, Barry found himself impatiently awaiting Monday morning. He mowed the lawn, tossed a football around with his dad, went to church with the family, and watched most of one NFL game with his dad and sister on Sunday afternoon. He was surprised and amused at how the weekend seemed an intrusion on more compelling matters.

English was his first class after lunch, but the minutes ticked by too fast, and the crowd of students around Claire’s desk after class was a frustration. He left with disappointment, and he dispelled his frustration with more than usual aggressiveness during football practice.

After showering he decided to see if Claire might still be in her classroom. She had, after all, offered help should he need it. He only had to think of some plausible question that required her help.

As he approached her classroom, he was pleased to see the door slightly ajar and the lights on. His elation quickly diminished when he heard an adult male voice in conversation with her. He stood in the dark hallway, uncertain of what to do and unable to avoid overhearing the conversation.

The voice of the vice-principal, Mr. Hedley, was unmistakable. He peeked through the two-inch crack in the door to see him. He stood facing Claire, who rested her buttocks at the edge of her desk. Mr. Hedley was speaking in a demanding tone.

“You have the reputation of an excellent teacher, Miss Smith, but you are new here and still have a lot to prove. Do you understand me?” He spoke in a near threatening tone, and he actually extended a finger and poked it at her breastbone as he concluded his remark.

“Yes, Mr. Hedley, I understand.” Claire’s voice quavered and was very quiet as she responded meekly to his remark. “I will work hard to prove myself.” She shifted uneasily but made no effort to escape the confines imposed by her desk on one side and Mr. Hedley’s imposing bulk on the other.

Barry felt the hair on the back of his neck rising. ‘Hedley has his nerve,’ he thought. He was outraged that this rapidly balding jerk was acting in such a heavy-handed way with Claire. He was also surprised that she was responding so meekly. With little additional thought, he decided to take the initiative.

“Oh, hi, Miss Smith,” he said apologetically as he pushed the door open. “I didn’t realize you were busy. You said I could come by to discuss the test.”

Mr. Hedley turned rapidly with a scowl on his face. The scowl turned to a friendly grin when he saw that it was Barry. “Football practice must have run late, Barry.”

“Yeah, we’re getting ready for the big game with Central, Mr. Hedley. But I sure can’t afford to get behind in my class work.”

Claire said nothing. She appeared confused or embarrassed, and Barry began to have second thoughts about the wisdom of this intrusion.

“Well, I’ll let you and Miss Smith get to work then,” Hedley remarked gallantly as he strode to the door.

They stood there silently as they listened to Hedley’s footsteps echo down the hall.

“I’m sorry if this wasn’t a good time, Miss Smith.”

“No, don’t be silly, Barry.”

“Well, it probably is too late. I’ll be missing dinner if I don’t get moving. Would you like me to walk you to the parking lot?”

“That would be very nice.” She looked around uncomfortably and began gathering the books and other materials she would take home with her. Barry stood silently as he watched her every move. She leaned across her desk to get her schedule book, and Barry watched as the hem of her dress rose above the top of her stocking. He was surprised but pleased to see that she was wearing “thigh-highs” and not pantyhose. The sight of her bare flesh above the stockings caused a stirring in his groin. He shifted his backpack across his thigh to conceal what could become an embarrassment.

Miss Smith turned to see him staring and seemed to understand that she may have revealed more than she had intended. Her cheeks became red as she smiled at him and nervously organized the rest of her materials, slipping them into a large canvass bag.

“Well, let’s go then,” she said with noticeable discomfort. Barry walked her to the door and stood aside as she locked it behind her. They walked down the dimly lit hallway in silence. Barry opened the door for her and spoke only as they stepped into the evening air.

“Mr. Hedley didn’t seem like he was being very nice to you, Miss Smith. I mean, I’m sorry . . . I wasn’t purposely listening to your conversation, but I couldn’t help but hear.”

“No, he’s just doing his job, Barry. He expects all new teachers to work hard to uphold the standards of the school. He doesn’t know my work, so I think he is just trying to make his expectations clear.”

Barry decided not to press the issue. Mr. Hedley had, after all, touched her to make his point. He was almost annoyed that she had let him get away with it, but it was obviously out of line to even bring it up.

When they got to her car, Barry held her bag as she unlocked the door. She smiled as she took it from him, once again touching his forearm with the fingertips of one hand. “Thank you, Barry.”

“Hey, you’re welcome,” he replied almost too loudly but reflecting his nervousness over the circumstances.

She smiled as she slipped into the driver’s seat and pulled the door closed. She lowered the window as she started the engine and said in what seemed to him to be the sexiest voice he had ever heard, “bye.”

Barry said nothing but watched her drive away. When she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the adjoining roadway, he turned and walked to the student parking lot.

*****************************

Barry lay in bed that night rethinking the events of the evening. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if Claire was of a disposition that had been described to him by Jane during the preceding summer at her home. His mother’s college roommate had broadened Barry’s perspective on more than one topic. Jane had spoken with admiration of a close friend of hers but had explained to Barry that Linda was sexually submissive. When Barry reacted with puzzlement, she explained that some people -- men and women -- obtained greater sexual gratification from playing a submissive role to a dominant partner. For some such people, she added, this sexual role was merely an extension of their general behaviors and attitudes. For others, it was confined strictly to their bedroom behaviors.

Barry wondered if Claire might be submissive, and the more he thought about it, the more the idea intrigued him. He began to think about the possibilities for exploring his theory, and his consideration of the possibilities led to the hardest erection since his leaving Jane in San Diego. He formed a mental picture of Claire on her knees before him, her manicured fingers wrapped around his cock and her full lips forming an “O” around the head. He pressed down on her shoulders with both hands, and she looked up at him timidly. He masturbated to orgasm and drifted off to sleep.

****************************

Throughout the following week, Barry was alert to any opportunity, but nothing seemed to materialize. The ‘big game’ with Central was on Thursday evening, so his thoughts were dominated by preparation for the game. By the end of the first half, they led by 24 to 3. Barry had thrown for two touchdowns and had completed 14 of 19 passes. As he ran down the sideline just before the end of the first half, he looked up and saw Claire standing beside the drill team coach, Miss Smart. Her eye caught his, and she gave a subtle little wave. He smiled in reply and took his seat on the bench.

The game ended as a resounding victory. The second string had played the entire fourth quarter, but the team still had won by a score of 41 to 13. Coach slapped Barry on the back repeatedly and beamed from ear to ear. If Barry had had any doubt about his security as first-string quarterback, the results of this game had dispelled it.

Barry’s father, mother and sister had attended the game, but he knew they would go on without him, since Coach’s post-game speech and a small celebration would delay his emergence from the locker room. He drove home alone and couldn’t resist driving by Claire’s apartment building. Her car was in her parking spot, and the second story lights suggested that she was preparing for or in bed. He lingered only a minute or two and completed the drive home. His dad had waited up for him and spent fifteen minutes recounting the important plays in the game and congratulating his son on his outstanding performance.

Crawling into bed shortly after 11:00, Barry’s mind turned to his thoughts about Claire. The fantasies that crowded his mind stimulated another erection, and he masturbated before slumber overtook him.

**************************** Friday didn’t yield much to academia. Any member of the football team was enjoying adulation from faculty and students alike, and Barry got a double portion. Each of his teachers commented on the victory over their perennial cross-town rival, and each of them singled him out for special praise. His self-conscious embarrassment might have seemed an affectation to anyone who didn’t know him. Nevertheless, the praise and hero-worship felt good.

He wondered what Claire might say in her class, and she didn’t disappoint him. She was exuberant in her cheerleader-like praise for the win, and she spoke of “our Barry” with what seemed like personal pride. Barry wouldn’t have traded her remarks for the sum total of the rest of the day’s praise.

As he approached the door at the end of her class, Barry heard her call his name quietly. He turned and walked to her desk, taking note that all the other students had left the room. Claire repeated the gesture of touching his forearm with the tips of her fingers as she spoke.