A collective groan rose from the auditorium as Dr. Smith finished her lecture. Dana always enjoyed this class, well, watching the tall professor anyway. Helen Smith was the kind of woman everyone gave a second look too. Dana suspected many people took that second look and wondered why they did so, and then moved on without more than a brief curiosity. Most would probably content themselves with noting she was abnormally tall; that had been Dana’s first impression.
In contrast to the tall professor, almost no one ever gave Dana a second glance. She was short, big-boned and compactly built, with hardly any bust and a rugged face. A tomboy all her life, she had only discovered her budding sexuality when she arrived at Mt. St. Clair College. She was a butch lesbian; at least, she wanted to be one, like her best friend Roz. Thus far her experience amounted to two one night stands, with girls her own age, neither of which had been very fulfilling. She was really attracted to more mature women and the stunning professor had become her secret obsession.
Over the last three semesters she had taken four classes with Dr. Smith. That hadn’t been by any design at first, simply that she was majoring in Secondary Ed and the core called for twenty-four credit hours across the liberal arts curriculum. All of the advanced courses were filled with juniors and seniors well before she was allowed to register. Her faculty adviser had urged her to take her core courses while she was too junior to get into the ones she needed for her major.
Dr. Smith was an early riser, offering one of only a handful of sections that met at 7:00 in the morning. Since no one in their right mind wanted to be up that early, there were always openings in that section. The morning courses fit Dana’s lifestyle, so she had seen quite a bit of the tall professor. Over time, she had noticed a lot about the woman that she suspected others rarely saw.
She was always demure, her clothing impeccably fitted, but highly conservative. Mostly business dress suits in dark colors or tweeds. She always wore black stockings; not pantyhose, but stockings. Dana was sure of this because she always sat in the front row and on rare, but much anticipated, occasions the Professor would stand on tip toe to write or correct something on the board. Dana had taken to slouching in her seat, because from the low point she could occasionally catch a flash of stocking tops and garter clips if the Prof had on a suitably short skirt. She often wore a slip which would frustrate the young woman, but even a glimpse of that was nice.
She also always wore heels, not the thick, clunky, ugly kind that were in vogue with the girls on campus, but very feminine, thin heeled pumps. In the time she had been paying attention, the professor had never worn open toed heels or flats. Dana had also noticed other things that she thought probably escaped the casual observer.
In the first place the Doctor was stacked. The conservative cuts of her clothing seemed calculated to conceal it. Dana hadn’t really noticed until the day the AC was out and halfway through the lecture the Prof had been forced to remove her jacket. Dana felt sure her eyes had nearly popped out of her head. A quick look around the near empty classroom showed her that at least the guys agreed. Dana conservatively guessed the good doctor took at least a D cup, if not a DD. In just the starched white blouse and her skirt, it was also obvious she had what Roz called “birthing hips”.
That had started it for her. Dana had studied her professor so carefully only a few questions remained, and those she was unlikely to ever discover the answer to, although she kept an open mind. The campus was extremely liberal and rumors abounded. Dana had noticed that she never saw the tall professor out with men unless it was in a group and that gave her some hope.
“I’m sorry. I know you all have other classes and your time is valuable, but this is a three thousand level course and there is simply no way I could, in good conscience, not require a research paper.”
More gripes and groans followed. Dana noticed that Dr. Smith seemed genuinely concerned, which was rare for a professor. Most acted like their assignments were the only ones the students had.
“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad. Most of you can knock out a thirty-page paper over a weekend. I’m only requiring nine sources and the subject is totally up to you, provided you can tie it to Tudor or Stewart England.”
The bell rang and everyone stampeded towards the exit. Dana took her time, her next class wasn’t until noon today, so she headed for the cafeteria to meet up with her friends.
“Got it made, got it made, got it made, I’m hot for teacher!” Roz sang.
“Fuck off,” Dana responded good naturedly.
“When ya gonna quit staring at her with puppy dog eyes and try to tap that fine ass?” the heavyset black girl asked.
Roz was two years Dana’s senior and more or less the leader of their small group of friends. She was butch, brazen and seemed to know no shame. Rumor had it Roz had been expelled from Franciscan after getting caught bedding the rector’s wife. Dana knew for certain she was sleeping with at least three of her professors and at least two of her TAs. Not that the big girl needed to, she carried a four-oh with ease. She just lived for the danger and wickedness of it.
“I don’t even know if her ass is fine, I’ve only seen her without a jacket once.”
“It’s fine. She’s one of those top shelf bitches; class through and through. Matter of fact, I might take a class next semester if you don’t get a move on.”
Angela and Mona both laughed as a shadow crossed Dana’s face.
“I’m just picking girl, you know I don’t birddog.”
“I know, it’s just I wish I was more like you sometimes.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’ll come.”
Dana nodded and finished her cup of coffee. She stood up and swung her bag over her shoulder. 1. “Aww, don’t go, I’m sorry,” Roz said.
“I gotta hit the library.”
“It’s cool. See y’all later.”
Dana crossed the barren quad and entered the library, with its imposing neo-classical façade. Inside the illusion of grandeur quickly gave way to boring faux wood and linoleum floors. The building was pretty plain, scarred from years of use and indifference. Most of the staff were athletes on work study, finding one who was even semi-competent was usually more trouble than just digging in and finding something yourself. About once every three years they lost accreditation because the books were not returned properly and finding anything became impossible. That had happened just last semester, so the stacks were in pretty good order now.
Dana had been thinking about her paper. She knew Doctor Smith’s specialty was the wives of Henry the eighth. Since she had no strong interest in the period herself, she decided to load up on books about Catherine of Aragon. Of all his wives, Catherine was the only one Dana ever felt any sympathy towards.
Two hours of searching produced a meager collection of books, and not a single biography. The library computer said they had one, but she was unable to locate it. She was about to decide to change her topic when a tall blonde with a name tag walked by. Probably a volleyball player, she thought.
“I can’t seem to locate this book. Do you know if it’s still here?”
The girl came around to her terminal and touched the screen, then entered her password.
“I don’t know, it hasn’t been checked out in almost twenty years. If it’s here, it’s probably back in the special collections by now.”
“Why special collections?”
“That’s where we stick the really old ones nobody looks at,” she replied with a shrug.
After twenty minutes of digging though dusty books heaped on racks she found it. A thin, red volume without a dust cover. Dana grabbed her other selections and hurriedly checked them out. She jammed them in her bag and barely made it across campus to the Keating building and her noon trig class.
It was past midnight before Dana got home from work and got around to taking the library books out of her bag. She and Roz both worked security at Steel’s, the hottest club in town. There were real brutes to handle the drunks and troublemakers, but the owner had been sued after a male bouncer had to enter the ladies room to break up a fight. So he had hired Roz to handle the cat fights and she had convinced him to give Dana a job too. They worked together on Friday and Saturday nights and split the rest of the week.
Tomorrow was Saturday, the busiest night at Steel’s, and she wanted to get as much of the note card writing done as she could before she crashed. Armed with a huge mug of black coffee, a fresh packet of note cards and some cheap pens she settled in at her desk. From the non-biographies she culled information and did some creative paraphrasing. A quick trip online let her fill the three internet references Dr. Smith was allowing.
When she opened the small red book the binding crackled and something fell out onto the floor. Expecting to find some long forgotten note card she picked it up and examined it. To her surprise she found it was a picture.
It was a black and white photo and, while obviously very old, the book seemed to have protected it as it was hardly yellowed at all. The subject was a woman, seated in a wingback chair. She wore her hair up, the dark curls piled high on her head. Her chest was bare, her large breasts sagging under their own weight, with large aureoles and thick nipples. A black garterbelt was around her waist, but you could only see a hint of it, since her bloomers covered it almost completely. Her long legs were encased in black stockings and she wore black pumps of an antique mode. She looked to be in her twenties, but it was hard to tell.
Dana laughed out loud and tossed the picture on her desk. Just her luck, to find some guy’s cheesecake jerk off material in her library book. She dug into the book, carefully jotting down notes as she went. It was nearing nine in the morning when she finally made her last note card and closed the old book. The sun was streaming in and she had that surreal feeling she always got when sleep deprived. Dana drank the dregs of her coffee and made a face. Cold coffee was bad, cold coffee with grounds was worse. She picked the mug up and started for the kitchen.
When she returned to her desk the picture caught her eye and she picked it up again. No longer preoccupied with getting her notes done, she examined it more carefully. The first thing that she noticed was the setting, there was a table behind the model and a china closet. Having some experience with old style porn she found that odd, most of the pics were obviously in studios or on sets, but this one had been taken in someone’s home. If she hadn’t noticed that, she would have probably stuck the picture in with her porn collection and forgotten about it, but that added an intriguing dimension and she decided to give it a closer inspection before she went to bed.
After going over her note cards, arranging them and reworking a few she put them in a small box and heaved a big sigh. Sleep. She needed sleep and her bed was calling, but she couldn’t help but pick up the picture and examine it again.
The model was obviously a tall woman, with very long and gorgeous legs. Her face wasn’t classically beautiful, but it was very alluring and the impish gleam in her eyes came through. Dana noticed her eyebrows, while thin, were a little too thick and her lipstick wasn’t quite perfect. It struck her that this wasn’t commercial, it was an amateur picture. How old was it? Who was she? What had inspired her to pose for it? The questions seemed to come of their own accord. Dana turned the picture over and saw a faded inscription on back.
To my darling Arthur, give Jerry hell and come back to me alive.
A very faded lip-print was also visible.
Stranger and stranger. Who was Jerry? Why would darling Arthur abandon this photo? Come back alive from what?
Dana flipped it over and examined the photo again. The lingerie was old fashioned, but exactly how old? Fifties? Forties? Earlier? No longer sleepy, Dana opened a search engine on her computer and gave Jerry a try. Ben & Jerry’s, Seinfield, Jerry Springer. Not much help. She refined her search a bit. After several searches, she finally found something. Jerry was a common name for the Germans in World War II. That would make the picture nearly sixty-five years old.
Pressing on now, enthralled with the hunt, she searched for 40’s style undergarments and soon found a nearly identical set to those the model wore. Pleased with herself for having identified the time period she returned to the picture. In the corner she noticed something and dug a magnifying glass out of her desk drawer. In tiny print the photo carried the maker, Kodak and a date Sept. 3, 1942.
“Well, missy, you had plenty to flaunt,” she mused aloud.
1942, not exactly the renaissance for porn, she mused. From what she knew it would take some kinda balls to do a picture like this. Yet the woman looked more like your girl next door than some kind of siren. There was of course the possibility that it was part of a set and the sender had selected it to help Arthur through the lonely nights, but she didn’t think so. Dana had it in her head that this woman had posed for a nudie shot and sent it to her beloved. She returned to her computer and began trying searches and reading.
“You look like shit.”
“Feeling all right? I can cover for ya if you need to go home.”
“I’m fine, just didn’t sleep,” Dana said as she clocked in.
Roz looked at her critically, but shrugged and clocked in herself. Dana volunteered to take tickets up front, hoping the activity would keep her awake. It was a busy night and somewhere along the way she caught her second wind and the cobwebs cleared. During a lull, her mind went back to the picture. She had learned a lot more about World War Two than she would have ever expected. Her idea had been just to get an idea of where Arthur might have been: he was fighting the Germans in 1942, simple right?
Well, not so simple as she had imagined. He could have been a sailor on a merchant ship, braving the Atlantic route. An airman in the Eighth air force, bombing France and the low countries, or a soldier training for Operation Torch. That of course assumed darling Arthur was American. If he was British, then he could have been in any of a thousand places the war touched. It was strange that she had taken such an interest. History had never been more than dull facts to her until last night, but looking for the identity of the woman in the picture it had come alive like never before.
She was dead tired, but couldn’t wait to get back to her room and dive in again. Why it was so important to her she didn’t know, but the woman’s face never was far from her thoughts. Who she was, what she was like, what gave her the confidence to take such a photo in that era, the questions buzzed around her head like angry bees.
“Daydreaming about the doc?” Roz said, handing her a hot coffee.
“What? No, haven’t thought about her all day.”
“I found this picture in a library book. I can’t get the woman in it out of my mind.”
“You’re getting mighty hard up if you’re obsessing over porn dollies,” Roz laughed.
“It’s not porn…well, not really.”
“It is or it ain’t darling,” the black girl said as she took a ten from a guy and put an armband around his wrist.
“It is, I guess, but it’s old. Black and white. I think it’s from the forties.”
“No use worrying about it then. She’d be in a nursing home by now, if she’s still alive,” Roz said.
“God, you never stop thinking about sex do you? I hadn’t even considered her sex appeal. I’m just curious as to who she is, that’s all.”
“Well, it seems crack-brained to me, but hey, I never understand you anyway.”
“Not me, I’m all butch. Speaking of bitches, have you seen that little blonde dish playing pool?”
Dana shook her head. Her friend had a one-track mind. That didn’t stop her from checking out the pool tables when she got the chance. One-track mind or no, Roz could sure pick ’em.
Dana tossed the sheet of paper into the trash can and cursed. Arthur was a dead end. After a lot of hard work, she had managed to get a list of locals who were veterans or who served. No one named Arthur was on her list. With that avenue thoroughly exhausted, she was back to the woman with the enigmatic smile and arresting eyes who had been haunting her dreams.
She glanced up from picture to the mirror over the mantle and sighed. She was a mess. For the last two weeks she had poured nearly every waking hour into the search. She spent almost as much time trying to figure out why it was so important to her as she did researching obscure things in an attempt to find out.
Her computer was now loaded with vintage porn, as she had downloaded file after file, hoping to find another picture of the woman. While there were still tons out there, she had become solidly rooted in the idea the woman was an amateur and much of her time downloading had become a kind of ritual while she thought. If nothing else, she had gained a keen appreciation of the underwear of the times, finding it utterly feminine and sensually sexy. Even her daydreams of bedding Dr. Smith now featured the tall teacher in old fashioned garments.
Her studies were suffering, as was her social life. She had been skipping classes, though she managed to make all of Dr. Smith’s. She was too absorbed in her quest to waste time on other classes. What had started as curiosity had become obsession. She was aware of it, although she had been denying it. With a sigh she killed the computer, dumped all the papers she had printed off in the garbage and carried the picture to her bedroom. She placed it in her night stand, stripped and showered. The woman’s face still danced in her memory, but she fought the impulse to dig back in and headed off to class. Outside the door she stopped, shook her head and hurried back to her room. She grabbed the photo and stuck it in a text book in her bag.
“Well, well, if it ain’t the invisible woman,” Roz drawled.
“Yeah, sorry, good to see you too,” Dana said as she made a face.
“Still searching for granny porn?”
“Lay off,” Dana snapped.
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Roz looked at her closely and then frowned.
“You’re all fucked up. What’s going on kid?”
“I can’t get her out of my head!” Dana whined.
“What’s so damned important?”
“I don’t know Roz. I just don’t know. I’ve tried and tried, but I can’t get her out of my head. I dream about her. Nothing sexual, she just sits and talks to me, but I can’t ever fucking remember what she’s said. It’s eerie, almost like she’s trying to communicate with me.”
“Come on, a ghost picture?”
“No, not like that. Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe I am just losing my mind. Everyone probably thinks I’m crazy anyway.”
“I’ve never seen you like this. I wouldn’t say crazy, but you are obsessed. Have you had any luck?”
“Well, I guess the only thing to do is help you find her. Let me see this mysterious photo.”
Dana was a little taken aback. Roz was always so practical and she could be such a hard ass. The concern in her face was a shock, but one that left Dana feeling good. She dug into her bag and found the photo, handing it to Roz.
The black girl examined it for a while and then a smile tugged at her lips.
“I think I can tell you why you’re obsessing over this,” she said after a moment.
“Why?” Dana asked excitedly.
Roz handed the photo back and took a sip of her coffee.
“Take a close look at that photo. Who does she remind you of?”
“I’ve done nothing but look at it for weeks.”
“Put her in a business suit,” Roz prompted.
Dana thought it was stupid, but she tried. Picturing the woman in a business suit didn’t do anything except hurt her head.
“I don’t see it,” Dana said, massaging her temples.
“Try her with red hair.”
“Fucking-A!” Dana mouthed.
“Resemblance is uncanny isn’t it?”
“Yeah. I mean…fucking–a.”
“Explains a lot,” Roz said with a chuckle.
“It could really be her, I mean if it wasn’t from way back then.” Dana said in a hushed tone.
“You sure it’s old? I mean, not just a black and white reproduction?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Besides, you know she wouldn’t be posing for beaver shots.”
“Never can tell kiddo, some women are all freaky under that proper exterior, but I think you are right about that.”
“You said you found this in a book?”
“Yeah, on Catherine of…”
Dana sat in Dr. Smith’s office, waiting patiently as the professor discussed a meeting on the phone. When she hung up, she turned to Dana and smiled.
“You’ve taken several of my classes and this is the first time you have visited the office. What can I do for you?”
“I’m not sure,” Dana began hesitantly, “I’ve had something really weird happen lately and…”
Losing her courage she fished into her book bag and brought out the red biography.
“Do you recognize this?”
The teacher seemed taken aback.
“I don’t know. I was going to do my report on Catherine of Aragon. It hasn’t been checked out in a long, long time. In fact, I sweet-talked one of the jocks over at the library. The last person to check it out was you.”
The tall woman plucked the book from Dana’s hand and opened it. Her face softened and she laughed.
“Yes, I recognize it now. The only biography on her in the library; I did much of my graduate thesis from it; the margin notes are mine. I suppose it is an interesting coincidence, but surely you didn’t schedule an appointment to tell me this?”
“Do you recognize this?” Dana said, holding up the old photo. The professor froze and it was only after a long silence Dana realized she was holding her breath.
The professor finally recovered and sat up straighter.
“That’s highly inappropriate. If I were you, I would be more careful about displaying pornography. I don’t suppose you know it, but there are security cameras in all the professors’ offices. I find this joke in rather poor taste. If you will excuse me, I have another appointment waiting to discuss academic material,” she said in a stern voice.
Dana glanced at the small camera suspended from the ceiling. She hadn’t noticed it when she came in, but she quickly put the photo away.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled as she beat a hasty retreat from the office.
Dana was so embarrassed by the episode, she skipped her next class with Dr. Smith, the first she had ever missed. She was in the cafeteria, with Roz and Angela when they stopped talking and she felt a presence behind her.
“I missed you in class today,” the doctor’s soft voice chided.
Dana whirled and faced her. She was wearing a black suit today, impeccably groomed, and to the student’s mind, particularly stunning.
“I’m sorry,” Dana mumbled.
Glancing towards the faculty table the redhead slipped a piece of paper out of her jacket pocket and shoved it into Dana’s hands, before retreating with a blush that was priceless.
The paper was letter paper, in a pale lavender color. She was examining it when she looked up to find Roz and Angela staring at her.
“Gonna sit there all day or tell us what it says?”
“Oh!” Dana responded, returning to reality.
I’m sorry for my reaction in my office. The board of governors is cracking down on impropriety since the last lawsuit and you can never be too careful. If you really want to know about that photo, I’ll be at Danny Boy’s tonight from eight to nine.
After Dana read it, she passed it to Roz, while Angela read over her shoulder.
“Are you going?’ Angela asked, her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper.
“Yeah, I think so,” Dana replied, holding the note to her nose and smelling the delicate lilac perfume.
“Better take your strap-on,” Roz advised with a grin.
“Don’t blow me off, kiddo. I know women. Play your cards right and you’ll have those long legs wrapped around you before the night is out.”
“Ya really think so?” Dana asked dubiously.
“Mark my words, she may be old, but she’s in heat,” Roz stated sagely.
Dana wanted to object, but she could tell her friend was serious and she felt herself nervously anticipating the meeting.
Danny Boy’s was the lounge in the old Holiday Inn. It was far from a hotspot, reserved mostly for the visiting alumni who stayed there and a few regulars. Dana had never been inside, having been told it was an “old folks” bar in her freshman year.
The inside was dark and smoky, with a big screen TV showing the basketball game. She felt a lot of eyes on her as she walked in, but it lasted only a moment before the patrons went back to watching the game and the buzz of several conversations filled the place over the game commentary.
She spotted Doctor Smith in an out of the way booth and made her way over. Dana slid in across from her and smiled tentatively. The doctor’s red hair was up and the green cocktail dress accentuated her curves, while offering a tantalizing glimpse of her décolletage. Silver earrings and a necklace set with emeralds highlighted her green eyes.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” she said hesitantly.
“Nothing could have stopped me,” Dana replied.
Dr. Smith blushed slightly and lowered her eyes.
“Can I get you a drink?” the waitress interrupted.
“Bourbon, neat for me, and whatever she’s having,” Dana replied, indicating the empty hurricane glass in front of the doctor.
“Coming right up,” the girl replied, grabbing the empty glass as she departed.
Nothing was said before she returned and placed a drink before them both. After she had gone the professor finally managed to look up.
“I really shouldn’t. I don’t drink much and it goes to my head.”
“Go ahead, no harm in a little buzz,” Dana replied.
The redhead nodded and took a sip, licking her lips in a most distracting way when she put the glass down.
“I guess I should apologize again. You really startled me in my office and I overreacted.”
“No, I didn’t realize you were being watched. If I had, I would have been more discreet, but I am still curious, do you know the woman in the picture?”
“Yes, but not as much as I would have liked to. She’s my grandmother.”
When Dana didn’t reply, the doctor took a deep drink from her glass and launched into her story.
“Where to begin? I guess from the beginning,” she started with a nervous laugh.
“That’s the only picture I had of my grandmother. I was beside myself when I lost it. I cried for days. I guess I must have stuck it in the book before returning it. Considering how much I searched for it, it’s really odd I never thought of that; even now I don’t remember sticking it in the book.”
“I’ve done similar stuff. I stuck a check in a school book once, didn’t find it until I was taking them back to sell after the semester.” Dana said.
The Doctor nodded and took another swallow of her drink. Dana thought it was a kamikaze and she wondered how hard it was hitting the pretty professor.
“Well, you can imagine my shock when you pulled it out of your bag. I was tempted to just grab it, but administration has gotten to be like Big Brother recently and I feared the results. I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it, Doctor Smith…”
“Helen, please call me Helen, we aren’t in class now.”
“All right…Helen. I don’t mean to pry, but can you tell me about your grandmother? I’ve spent a lot of time wondering about her.”
“No doubt you have. Posing for cheesecake shots in her day and age was something out of the ordinary,” Helen laughed.
“To be honest I didn’t know at first, but I have done a lot of research and it struck me as odd.”
“Odd? Yes, Matilda was very odd. The picture was taken for my grandfather, I don’t guess you can tell, but she’s pregnant with my mother in that photo. He was the only man she ever loved and she was of course devastated when the letter returned unopened along with a notice that he had been killed in action.”
“Yes. His plane was shot down in a raid over Wilhelmshaven in late 1942.”
“I’m sorry.” Dana said, sliding a hand across the table and squeezing Helen’s. The professor looked scared for a moment, then forced a smile.
“I am too. I never met him or knew anything about him for a long time.”
“Ah, now there’s a story in and of itself. My mother and my grandmother were estranged. They never reconciled and so I never met grandma Matty until I was old enough to defy my mother. By then the old bird was getting on in years, but she was still…quite a character.”
“Why were they estranged?”
The doctor colored again, the pretty blush rising in her cheeks, but she took another sip and continued.
“I said Matilda never loved another man after Grandpa, but she wasn’t without lovers. Mother was dreadfully embarrassed by it and resented the attention it brought her. I guess your mother being a lez during that time period was hard on her, lots of teasing and looks I suppose. She never would say. She married a holy-roller and took her repressed guilt out on me. We haven’t spoken in years, nor are we likely too. My father hasn’t forgiven me yet for choosing to get an education and not getting married.”
“I know the type,” Dana said, wincing with thoughts of her own father and his disapproval.
“I left home when I turned eighteen and looked Matty up. She was a wonderful woman and her partner was too. They took me in and I lived with them for a while before my financial aid came through and I went off to school. I think she knew she was dying when I left, but she didn’t say so. She gave me that picture the night before I left and told me about it. The only other pictures I ever saw of her were with Terry, her partner, and I suppose Matty left them all to her.”
Dana watched her as she paused and a far away look came into her eyes. The small girl reached into her inner pocket without thinking and pushed the photo across the table.
“You’ll be glad to have it back then.”
“Thank you,” she whispered as tears welled in her eyes.
“I had hoped you would return it to me, but you never know with people. I’m…I’m so glad you found it.”
“I’m glad to get it back to you.”
“I’ve answered your questions, feel like answering a couple for me?” she said as she used a napkin to wipe away her tears.
“Shoot,” Dana replied with a smile.
“What led you to think it was mine?”
“She looks just like you,” Dana answered.
“Really? I mean…well…” she stuttered, blushing furiously.
“The resemblance is uncanny. You have her eyes and lips and you definitely inherited her killer body,” Dana said.
She wasn’t sure about this, but she trusted Roz. She knew if she was too passive she might lose the opportunity, if it existed, but at the same time she didn’t want to be too aggressive. She felt this was a good way to steer the conversation towards sex without seeming too desperate.
“Thank you,” Helen mumbled, lowering her head again, “I didn’t think anyone noticed.”
“You do a good job of hiding it, but it’s there for anyone who is looking.”
“And why are you looking?” she asked in a strangely soft voice.
Now it was Dana’s turn to blush. She felt the heat rising in her cheeks and the bar suddenly seemed stuffy. She decided now was the time to up the ante.
“You’re hot Helen. You can’t really think I have suffered through your classes because I love history? Not with my grades.”
“I always wondered, but Dr. Prosser told me you were just killing cores.”
“You asked my advisor?” Dana asked, not believing what she was hearing.
“Well, you did say it was kind of strange.”
“I guess I did,” she replied with a grin.
Helen held up the photo and examined it carefully.
“I guess she was a looker. I never noticed, her being grandma and all.”
“Yeah, she’s beautiful. Of course since I realized she looked like you, I’ve been imagining it’s you in the photo.”
Dana couldn’t tell if the drinks were getting to her companion or if she was just getting comfortable with the banter, but she only blushed slightly.
“I’m afraid I don’t look nearly that good,” she murmured.
Dana was watching her closely. She was still relatively inexperienced, and had never put moves on an older woman before, but she was prepared for the games. Fishing for compliments was something most every girl did. Even those who weren’t interested in sex liked to have their egos stroked. Her first thought was ‘yeah, right’, but in this case, she felt like Helen really meant that. She wasn’t fishing, she was just that oblivious to how she looked.
“Bullshit, a garterbelt and some frilly knickers and you would be the spitting image.”
“You’re too kind,” she replied, her voice falling to such a whisper Dana could barely hear it over the buzz of conversation.
“I mean it,” Dana said earnestly, “If I could get you in that pose, I’d go nuts.”
Helen looked up into her eyes and studied her face. Dana refused to blush or lower her eyes.
“I think you do mean that,” she said carefully.
“Damned right I do,” she declared, letting her enthusiasm get the better of her.
Helen’s face showed a conflict of emotion, she was obviously pleased with Dana’s statement, but there was also fear in her eyes.
“You’re not very comfortable here are you?” Dana asked, lowering her voice.
“Or is it with me?” she prompted, when the beautiful redhead was silent.
“It’s not you, how could you think that? It’s just…you’re a student and in the current climate, I could lose my job. It just takes one person with a big mouth and I could be in really hot water.”
Dana swallowed hard. This was it, the biggest moment so far tonight.
“Would you like to go somewhere more private?” she asked, trying not to let her nervousness show.
Helen’s eyes got big and she looked around like a spy in a bad movie. She then pulled a pen out of her purse, scrawled something on a napkin, rose and hurried out. Dana waited a while, finishing her drink. She felt eyes on her and noticed a thin man with an unkempt moustache watching her. She wanted to say it was just her imagination, maybe getting too caught up in Helen’s paranoia, but she didn’t believe that.
He seemed to notice she was watching him and too quickly turned back to the screen. Dana grabbed the napkin, finished her drink, shrugged her coat on and made her way out. It was really cold now and she was glad she had worn her heavy jacket. All the way back to her apartment she kept looking over her shoulder. She felt an electric thrill when she caught a glimpse of the thin man following her. Once inside, she cut on the light in the living room and pulled the crumpled napkin from her pocket.
It only said ‘125 maple street’.
“Maple Street?” she mused aloud.
She knew where it was, over behind sorority row. Big, pretty houses, all belonging to tenured faculty. She could get there in fifteen minutes, but she was still worried about the thin man, if he had really been following her and it wasn’t her imagination. Dana killed the light in the living room and cut on the light in her bedroom. She then slipped back into the kitchen and out onto the small back patio.
Once away from the apartment, she moved boldly across campus and entered the Chi O house. She had almost pledged with them, but her lack of funds would have made it difficult and the friends she had made here all told her not to worry about it. She was still invited to the parties and often stopped by to visit, so she was a known face and no one even blinked when she breezed through the main hall and out the back.
The night was cold, but she felt all warm and tingly. She was caught between desire and fear, but she wasn’t going to let anything stop her tonight. At the edge of the back yard was a thin copse of trees; these acted as a shield between the campus and the houses on Maple. 125 turned out to be a smaller brick house around the curve from where she came onto the street.
Dana felt kind of foolish, but exercising extreme caution she walked past the house and then slipped around to the back door, where she knocked discreetly.
The door opened and she slipped inside. She was standing in the darkened kitchen, Helen was just a shadow among shadows.
“I didn’t expect you to be at the back door,” she said quietly.
“I know it sounds strange, but I thought this man was following me when I left the bar,” Dana said.
“Thin man with a moustache?”
“I saw him too. Ray Perkins, Doctor Vargaso’s lap dog. Since January, he is in charge of upholding the standards and integrity of this fine institution.” she said sarcastically.
“Of a sort. He reports on the activities of various faculty members. Who is dating whom, who was out at what night spot, who spends too much time behind closed doors with their students or TA’s.”
“Yes, well, most of us ignore him, especially those with tenure. I’ve made an art form of it, until tonight,” she said, again in that quiet whisper.
“What’s different about tonight?”
“Well, it’s the first time I’ve ever contemplated doing something with a student,” she said, her dark face showing a trace of a smile.
“And just what are you contemplating, Professor?” Dana said, quietly, her voice heavy with desire.
“I’m not sure, but whatever it is, I am sure it’s inappropriate and detrimental to the moral standards of this fine institution,” she replied sardonically, before turning and gliding though the darkened kitchen into the living room, which was illuminated softly by the glow from the fireplace. Dana followed, feeling herself grow bolder and more confident.
The living room was cozy, with a long red plush sofa and two wingback chairs in identical upholstery. Cherry finish ends and a coffee table in the same finish with intricate Queen Anne legs. The walls were tastefully hung with well-framed prints of the masters. A bookcase held a selection of hardbacks and a curio held cutsey knick knacks. The fireplace was brick, with a dark wood mantle and a cheery fire crackling.
Dana barely noticed, her eyes were glued to her teacher’s soft plump ass. Helen had changed out of her dress into a black dressing gown made of some thin silky material that fell to just below her knees. She was still wearing her stockings and heels, the sight of which had Dana’s heart beating a mile a minute. The tall redhead curled up in one of the chairs, motioning for Dana to take a seat on the sofa. Once they were both seated, they sat silently for a while.
Dana was lost in thoughts that had her feeling all squirmy and Helen seemed to be studying her face in the fire light.
“From your expression I would guess you’re thinking something naughty,” Helen said finally.
Dana felt her blush rising, but laughed. It didn’t feel humiliating to get caught daydreaming by this woman. It just felt hot.
“Are you going to let me in on it?” Helen asked from under her long lashes.
“Well,” Dana started, beginning to feel hot under the collar, “I was imagining you posed like the picture. That chair is just perfect for it.”
“It should be, this set belonged to my grandmother,” she replied.
They were both staring at each other and Dana started to say something, but she held back. Helen’s face was tight, she was thinking about something, and when she licked her lips and breathed in deeply, Dana knew she had decided to say whatever it was.
Only it wasn’t something the redhead wished to say. She stood quickly and pulled the sash to her robe. Shrugging it off her shoulders she stood totally still, watching Dana intently.
The novice butch felt her mouth fall open, felt it moving, but not a sound issued forth. Helen wore a black bullet bra, the kind that molded her breast into a pair of almost points. Her midriff was bare, but the top of a black lace garterbelt could be seen. Over the belt, she wore peach-colored satin knickers. Her impossibly long legs were encased in the stockings, but just below the elastic of the knickers Dana could see pale skin.
Unable to utter a sound, Dana held up a finger and made a circular motion. She hoped Helen would understand what she wanted, because she couldn’t have spoken if her life depended on it.
The tall redhead smiled and did slow pirouette. Dana felt her heart leap into her throat and a spike of desire in her belly like none she had ever felt before.
“Beautiful,” she managed at last.
“I was beginning to worry,” Helen said in that strange, rough soft voice.
“There are specialty shops that cater to people who like old-fashioned lingerie. I have quite a collection. Frankly, I find it nicer than modern day stuff.”
“You mean you wear this kind of stuff all the time?”
“Well, yes, why? Don’t you like it?”
Dana’s eyes never left her teacher’s soft body.
“I’d like you in a burlap sack. I think it’s awesome, I mean…for you of course…I wear boxers,” she finished lamely.
“Boxers can be sexy, on the right person.”
“I hope I’m the right person,” Dana said.
“Well, let’s see!” Helen enthused.
Dana rose quickly, kicked off her shoes and wiggled out of her faded jeans. She kicked them away from her feet as she pulled off her t-shirt. She was a compact girl, barely five five, but weighing nearly one forty. Her arms and legs were heavily muscled from years of sports and her small breasts stood out from her body, capped by rosy pink nipples. She thought she should have been a little more self conscious, but after the long evening of building tension, it was really a relief.
“Mmmmmm,” Helen purred.
Now was the time to say something clever, or sexy or something, but Dana found she couldn’t think of anything that didn’t sound silly. After a while Helen smiled and gracefully sat in the chair.
“You’ve no idea what to do next have you?” she asked.
“I’ve got lots of ideas,” Dana said defensively.
“Don’t get upset, I just meant you’re new at this, aren’t you?”
“Well, kinda. I mean, I’m no virgin, but…”
“But I’m not like the girls you’ve been with?” Helen finished for her.
“No, not at all,” Dana sighed, sitting down heavily. The tall teacher watched her intently, but didn’t speak. “I mean, what do I say to you? I doubt you’re up on the latest bands or TV shows. Roz was right, you’re class, through and through. I guess I’m not as ready for this as I thought.”
Dana frowned and stared at the fire. She was kicking herself, but what could she do? Helen rose and sat next to her on the sofa.
“Roslyn Pershing, my best friend.”
“The black girl who’s sleeping with Dr. Sullivan?”
Dana turned to Helen and smiled tentatively.
“And Dr. Thornton and Dr. Pierce too.”
“Well, that’s news.”
“Yeah, she’s got a way with older women.”
“And you think you don’t?”
“Look at me. Sitting here with the hottest woman I’ve ever met and I can barely speak,” Dana said in an anguished voice.
Without warning Dr. Smith leaned forward, caught Dana’s chin in her hand, and gently pressed her lips to the startled girl’s. Dana started, but when the older woman just held her lips there, she found herself pressing her tongue against those soft lips without even thinking about it.
Helen’s lips parted and her soft tongue darted out, just grazing Dana’s before retreating. Dana leaned against the doctor and let her tongue follow the redhead’s back into the warm cavern of her mouth. Her mouth was soft and wet and tasted of almonds. Dana’s tongue explored its secrets, finding all the pockets of sweetness and gently, but thoroughly exploring. It was natural, she wasn’t even thinking, but broke the kiss when Helen moaned softly.
The doctor’s eyes were closed, and it seemed to take her a moment to realize she was no longer being kissed. She opened her eyes and smiled gently, while reaching out and stroking Dana’s cheek.
“I’m forty-five Dana. I haven’t had a lover in over ten years and have only been with three my whole life. You may not be Casanova, but that kiss was the best I’ve ever had. Just relax and let it come, don’t compare yourself to Roz or anyone else. Since the moment you started hitting on me I’ve been flattered beyond words. You may not think you have a way with women, but I’m here to tell you that you do. It may take a while to get your confidence up, but believe me, before it’s over, you’ll know.”
Dana nodded while her eyes drank in Helen’s loveliness. She wanted to touch her, taste her, explore every inch of her, but she hesitated. Sex always came down to this moment for her. It was the thing she dreaded and yet anticipated most. The final move from, ‘not sure’, to ‘positive that she was going to get some’. Holding her breath she leaned forward and their lips met again. This time, Helen’s parted instantly and she reached out to wrap her arms around Dana’s shoulders.
The kiss was torrid, but the positioning on the sofa was awkward. Dana twisted her body, and used her shoulder to nudge Helen. The tall professor lay back, allowing Dana to rest on top of her body. Dana felt her warm, soft body and silky skin. She had never been with a woman like Helen and her senses were on overload. The satin cups of the professor’s bra were pressed into her tummy and she tentatively slid a hand between their bodies and squeezed.
The material was thick and stiff, but she could feel the warm flesh beneath it. Helen was sucking on her tongue as they kissed and making small noises that were driving Dana to distraction. Dana broke the kiss and sat up while Helen raised one of her long legs and placed it against the back of the sofa. The redhead raised herself up on her elbows and Dana reached behind her, working the bra loose. She lifted the straps off Helen’s shoulders and the older woman lay back, allowing Dana to remove it completely.
Helen’s breasts were so large they seemed to roll off her chest. Dana had never seen any so large or full. She took them in her hands and pushed them together, revelling in the resilient, but ultra silky skin. Helen’s aureoles were as large as the bottom of a coke can and the nipples were thick and stiff. Dana lowered her head and began to gently tongue them.
Helen moaned and tangled her hands in the short girl’s hair. Dana waited, but unlike the other girls she had been with, the redhead made no attempt to move her head. For what seemed hours, Dana kissed, licked and nibbled to her heart’s content. The skin was soft and silky, the aureoles rough and puckered, and the nipples hard and slippery buttons. Each felt different, tasted different, made strange but wonderful impressions on her senses. Her hands continued to press and knead, squeezing gently, and feeling the abundant flesh between her fingers.
This had to be heaven, she thought in some small corner of her mind that wasn’t totally lost in sensation. Pressing her lips between the two mounds she felt the velvet heat on her cheeks. Helen was cooing and sighing, making noises in her throat that just set the younger girl’s blood on fire. She had no idea how long she had been worshiping those tits when the tenor of Helen’s moans changed. Dana opened her eyes to a sight that would be indelibly burned into her memory.
Helen’s head was back, exposing her long elegant neck. Her eyes were closed tightly and her nostrils were flaring with each breath. She had her lower lip held between her teeth. As Dana watched she began to toss her head from side to side, the long red hair becoming a mess as her movements gained momentum. Dana’s hip was resting between her legs and she became aware of the subtle humping as Helen’s excitement mounted. Dana sucked a stiff nipple into her mouth and gently chewed on it, using her lips to cushion her teeth. Her eyes never left the sexy teacher’s face as Helen’s body tensed. A long hiss escaped her lips and then a bark of pleasure. Her body came unglued, thrashing wildly as her orgasm ripped through her.
Dana waited for Helen’s movements to subside, before she regretfully abandoned her lover’s breasts and kissed her chin. Helen was panting, and a light sheen of sweat now covered her body. Dana slid down, kissing her navel and stopping only when she was snuggled in between the teacher’s long legs. The crotch of her knickers was damp and Dana could smell her delicate musk. The aroma was beyond description and she felt her mouth watering as her hands slipped under the waistband and began to tug the knickers down. Helen moved her legs to help and Dana held the fragile garment a moment before letting it drop to the carpet.
Helen’s bush was as red as the hair on her head and very thick. The curls were tight and luxuriant causing Dana to moan when her fingers played through them. Helen’s skin was pale, almost transparent, allowing Dana to see the tiny veins underneath in the rosy firelight. Her mound was trim and the outer lips very thin. These gaped open, revealing the pink inner folds and her erect clit. Her whole mound glistened, almost like it was covered in olive oil.
Dana lowered her head, pressing her lips tightly to the succulent flesh and felt the outer lips part for her chin. She began to carefully lick and nuzzle, causing Helen to gasp. The flavor that filled the small girl’s mouth was beyond words to describe. At once sweet, tart and salty, but warm and slick. She lost herself, voraciously trying to collect every drop for herself.
She felt the professor’s thighs tighten on the sides of her head, while her hips began to undulate. Dana’s arms were wrapped under her legs and her hands were locked just above her lover’s pubic triangle. She tightened her hands and struggled to match her head’s motions with Helen’s wildly bucking hips.
“Oh…Oh…Oh…” the professor chanted.
The exclamations were followed by a series of incoherent syllables as the tenseness built in her body. Her pussy became wetter and the nectar thicker. Dana found Helen’s clit and sucked it into her mouth. She sucked hard and her lover screamed as her body went into a paroxysm. Dana stayed there, licking and sucking until all the motions ceased and she felt the tension drain from Helen’s body.
She finally raised her head and wiped the residual juices from her chin and cheeks. Helen was staring at her, the big green eyes dancing.
“No way with women my ass,” she finally whispered.
Dana beamed, the praise feeling almost as good as making her lover cum had. She crawled up, until they were face to face and kissed her. When Helen’s long legs wrapped around her waist, she felt strange; a good kind of strange, but slightly disconcerting. It was natural, as natural as anything she had ever experienced. She almost regretted not listening to Roz and bringing her strap on.
When the kiss broke Helen brushed the hair from her eyes and smiled.
“That was incredible, now I think it’s your turn.”
“No, I’m fine, really,” Dana replied.
“I’m going to feel very guilty if you don’t let me make you feel good too.”
“I’ve never felt better in my life. Honest.”
“Well, I’ll let you off tonight under one condition.”
“What’s that?” Dana asked with a smile.
“Next time, you cum too.” Helen replied.
They kissed and cuddled and fell asleep in each other’s arms.
“How’d it go?” Roz asked, as Dana sat down and sweetened her coffee.
“We’re going down to Centerville tomorrow evening for dinner and a movie,” Dana replied.
“Try the Four Seasons on Main street.”
“You been down there?”
“Hell, girl,” Roz snorted, “it’s where all the Professors want to go for a date. You know the drill, discreet, away from prying eyes, that kinda happy horseshit.”
“Hmmm?” Dana responded, she had been staring at the photograph in her hand, only half listening.
Rather than reply, Roz snatched the picture from her hands and deftly eluded Dana’s attempt to recapture it. The black girl looked at it and laughed, before tossing it back.
“At least you’re making sense now. Any butch would be drooling over that one,” she said with a knowing smile.
Dana smiled too, glancing at the photo again. The model was a tall woman, in a red chair. Her black bullet bra was pulled beneath her large breasts. Her satin knickers were pulled half way down her long legs. The black garter belt framed her pussy and pubic triangle. Dana was fully convinced she put her grandmother to shame.