High School Yearbook

She wondered, why didn't he date?

She heard the front door open, recognized his footsteps, said, "Hey Bryan, I'm in here. Your dad's asleep."

Following the voice to the darkened living room Bryan said, "Evening Bree, what ya' doin'?"

"Sitting in the dark, contemplating existence. Would you care to join me? Can I get you some wine?"

"You look pretty comfortable, I'll get it myself."

Returning with the bottle he topped Bree's glass, filled his own, sat on the couch. Bree, her back on the couch's arm, turned 180 degrees, leaned her body into Bryan, and asked how it had gone with Ms. Richards and the yearbook. He recounted the progress he and Bianca had made -- the yearbook was near ready -- and, struck by Bryan's casual use of his beautiful teacher's first name said, "Isn't there a rule against meeting a teacher alone in her home?"

"We weren't technically alone, her husband was there. He keeps out of the way. Stays downstairs, watches television."

The front door opened and Bree and Bryan heard Andrea in the front hall. Andrea, stoned and a bit drunk, thrilled to find the lights out, was unhappily surprised to find her mother and stepbrother, bodies entwined, sitting on the couch, holding glasses of wine. Discretion dulled, inhibitions loosened, it occurred to her that they looked kinda right together.

"Hey sis."

"Hey guys, you look comfortable."

"Yeah, I was sitting here when your brother got home. I asked him to keep me company."

Hoping to get to her room before her mother figured out what she'd been doing Andrea said, "Great, well I'm pooped. I'm going to bed," and headed upstairs.

It, of course, hadn't work; Bree had gone to college, she knew what pot and liquor smelled like. But she wasn't going to challenge her daughter, she was eager to see her disappear so she could have Bryan to herself. Her body resting on his, chatting, touching, the two of them sat up awhile and, as Andrea's odor dissipated, Bree realized Bryan smelled of chlorine.

Later, after Bryan went to bed, Bree dropped the empty wine bottle in with the other recyclables, put the glasses in the dishwasher, and wondered. Had Bryan lied about being with Ms. Richards? Had he, instead, been swimming? But if he'd been with friends he'd have said so, there was nothing to hide. Had he taken a moonlight swim with the stunning Bianca Richards? If so, what had he worn? His clothes were dry.

No, it couldn't be, unless it was. Teachers and their students did seem to be a thing these days and Bryan was a remarkable young man. If Bree had a bit of a crush on him, why not the gorgeous Bianca Richards? It would explain why he didn't date.

No, the thought was ridiculous, but the images of the two of them crowding her mind weren't, they were fricking hot. Parking herself on the couch Bree played with her clit, imagined going upstairs, opening Bryan's door, watching his slumbering body, his sheet rising and falling as he filled his lungs with air, folding the sheet back, reaching for his cock.

Before going to bed Bryan sent Bianca a text. Bree was ready.

* * * * *

Bree looked at her phone; she didn't recognize the number.

"Hello."

"Hello, this is Bianca Richards, Bryan's year book adviser. I was calling for Bree Danielson."

Making eye contact with her stepson across the kitchen table Bree said, "This is Bree. How are you Ms. Richards? Bryan said the yearbook is near complete."

"Please, call me Bianca. Yes, it's at the publishers, which is why I'm calling you. The books will be delivered next Saturday and I was thinking of having the students who've worked on it to my house for a party, an unveiling thing. It took some pleading, but Principal Strickland said if it ends by 8:30 P.M., if there's no alcohol, and if its chaperoned, I can do it. Would you be interested?"

Curious about her stepson's relationship with his beautiful brunette teacher Bree said, "Of course, I'd love to help out."

"Perhaps we could meet for lunch, discuss the details. How 'bout Emerald's."

Pausing between each phrase to listen she said, "Sure..., what time..., okay..., I'll be there," Bree hung up the phone and looking at her stepson said, "Bryan, that was Bianca Richards. She mentioned chaperoning a party at her house next weekend, getting together for lunch at Emerald's."

"Good. We talked about it, she said she'd talk to Principal Strickland. I didn't know he'd approved. She'd asked if you'd be interested in chaperoning. I told her I thought so, but I didn't want to ask you until it was a done deal."

Andrea, contemplating the beautiful but conservative teacher, said, "Are you sure Ms. Richards said Emerald's? I hear it's out there. It's hard to imagine Ms. Richards fitting in."

With a knowing smile Bryan said, "I don't know sis, working with her these past months, there may be a bit of a wild streak there. Why don't you take this opportunity to get foxed up Mom, show off, have a good time."

Bree looked at her daughter, who enthusiastically nodded her agreement.

* * * * *

Wearing a blue maxi-dress whose scooped front accented braless breasts and long slit a slender muscled leg, it took Bree a second to spot Bianca. It wasn't that Bianca was hard to find, she was impossible to miss, it was just that Bree was looking for a married conservatively-garbed school teacher and what was standing at the bar was sex on two legs. Hair hanging down to the small of her back in lustrous long black waves, Bianca wore skin-tight ripped jeans, 3½ inch open toe sandals, and a form-fitting long-sleeved white crop top shirt that celebrated her toned body.

Bree was not the only person who noticed. Leaning on the bar next to Bianca was a young woman. Spiked black hair, tattoos, multiple piercings, her body language was aggressive and predatory while Bianca, although clearly enjoying herself, politely fended off her advances. Slipping the sunglasses off her face Bree headed for the bar, catching Bianca's eye at the last second, who reached for Bree's hand, leaned in to kiss her cheek, and said, "Here's my date."

Unfazed, the young woman stuck out her hand and said, "Nice to meet you. My name is Paula."

Bree took the hand into her own -- the woman had an impressive grip -- and said, "Bree, it's nice to meet you."

Looking Bree up and down, smiling, Paula said, "I haven't seen you in here before. I'm sure I'd remember."

"No, it's my first time."

Winking Paula said, "Well, I hope its not your last. It's a fun place. I'll leave you two alone, catch you next time."

As Paula disappeared into the crowd Bree sat on the stool next to Bianca and said, "She was aggressive; I could feel her strip me with her eyes."

Holding up her hand, displaying her wedding ring and holding a card, Bianca said, "I know what you mean, she had me down to my undies and left me her number. I liked it; she's cute. It's these rings, they mark us as women looking to experiment and I hear few things interest these ladies more than showing a first-timer the ropes. It's best you and I convince everyone we're together."

Bree said, "Will do honey, but that ring is the least of your attractions. I'm sure you had to chase off a few."

Bianca said, "You're right, I did. I got here early, wanted to see if I still have it; its nice knowing I can still attract the young-uns. At school I try to be understated; I want to be known as something other than the hot teacher. This is one of the few public places I can escape the conservative schoolmarm thing. No member of the school board would be caught dead here, none could admit to being here. Unfortunately in a couple of years I'll start seeing my ex-students here and that will be it. But that's enough about me, you're looking mighty fine."

Bree said, "Thanks, the kids suggested I dress up a bit, have some fun. I'm glad they did."

Running her eyes up her companion's body Bianca said, "The kids knew what they were talking about," then, changing the subject, took a sip of her wine and said, "I recommend this Pinot, it goes wonderfully with the salmon."

Catching the bartenders's eye Bree gestured to Bianca's drink, ordering one for herself.

* * * * *

Bree speared a piece of grilled salmon, let it sit on her tongue. Bianca was right. It was excellent and went perfectly with the wine.

"So tell me about the party."

Bianca started, "It's really Bryan's idea. He and I were working on the final proofs last week," then, seeing the confusion on the pretty red-head's face, paused and said, "Let me explain. The printer provides pre-publication proofs of the yearbook. It's a complete yearbook, not bound but a copy of every page. It's so we can check everything, correct any errors, make last second tweaks. We divided the pages up among the yearbook staff, everyone ended up with about twenty pages to review. We made the changes and returned them to the publisher.

"After the publisher corrects the errors it sends a final proof so you can ensure the changes were made. It's a quick process, all you're doing is checking the changes, and Bryan decided we didn't need the entire staff, so he and I sat by my pool and did it. He was right, the publisher did a great job, we finished faster than expected."

Bianca paused, scanned the crowded room, and adopting a conspiratorial tone dropped the tone of her voice. "What happens next is kinda against the rules. Can you keep it between us girls?"

Intrigued, Bree said, Sure."

"Well, we're done early, I've got nothing planned, my husband is in the basement watching basketball -- boring -- it's a beautiful night and I'm feeling like a glass of champagne to celebrate, so I suggest to Bryan that we take a dip in the hot tub. He gets the champagne and some glasses from the kitchen and I text my husband, let him know what's going on so he won't disturb us."

As Bree imagined this stunning woman slipping into a hot tub with her stepson Bianca continued. "I've loved working with your stepson. He's an extraordinary young man, so gifted, so talented, so handsome. And with all the hours we've spent together we've become quite close."

"I know he's loved working with you and you're right, he is special."

"So Bryan and I are sitting there, letting the churning water wash over our bodies, and Bryan pours me a second glass of champagne and says, 'Bianca, this is wonderful, but y'know everyone's worked hard on the yearbook, we should celebrate together, have a pre-publication party."

"The next day I sat down with Principal Strickland. Initially he's against it, but I suggest some rules -- chaperones, no alcohol, over by 8:30 -- show him some leg, a little cleavage, he comes around."

Sipping her wine, Bree thought about Bianca flashing the principal, then about Bianca's husband. What did he think of all this, of giving up a weekend night in favor of a high school party, of the hours his wife spent on the yearbook? What did he think of his wife taking a dip in a hot tub with another man, especially a man as attractive as her stepson? Wanting to know more, Bree asked an open ended question.

"I've gotta admire your husband, not objecting to all the time you've spent on this project."

Bianca laid her hand atop Bree's and said, "Y'know, at first he did. Men can be so petty and possessive. But then he met Bryan, and the more he met Bryan, the more he liked him. He also saw what the project meant to me, how working on it, working with your stepson, made me feel productive and happy. My husband understands, or at least he's come to, that he can't fulfil all my needs."

Thinking about her own husband's failing sex drive Bree, with an unintended edge to her voice, said, "You're right about that, they can't."

Bianca said, "But I'm afraid all we've done is talk about me. Bryan tells me you and his father are newlyweds. How is that working out? I mean, especially with teenagers, it must be difficult blending two families together."

Feeling at ease with this woman, and helped along by a second glass of wine, Bree was candid. "At first it was. Bryan was unhappy with the whole thing -- and I understand. It was a whirlwind courtship; I only met Bryan once before I became his stepmother. I also underestimated him, treated him as a kid. As I came to see how special and mature he is, as I treated him like an adult, things improved. Even my daughter's coming around, learning to show Bryan the proper love and respect."

Bianca said, "I've noticed things changed at school. She used to barely acknowledge him, now you see them talking all the time."

Increasingly comfortable with each other, absorbed by the looseness of the surroundings, the conversation continued, growing more intimate until Bianca, noticing the time, signaled for the check, dismissed Bree's offer to pay, then reached for her new friend's hand and said, "Remember we have an audience and roles, two married ladies considering pushing the edge of the envelope."

Eyes following their progress, Bianca walked Bree to her car, opened the door for her, leaned forward, said, "Remember, two married ladies going where our libido takes us." At the repetition of the phrase Bree had heard a thousand times each night for months the ladies' lips brushed each other. They both felt a charge.

* * * * *

Driving home, hormones surging, Bree replayed the last few hours in her mind. Bianca had chosen Emerald's, had chosen her clothing, because she wanted Bree to know conservative schoolmarm was a role Bianca played. The real Bianca was a highly sexual creature.

Bianca also wanted Bree to know about a husband who couldn't fulfill her needs, who accepted Bryan's role in her life, who'd fallen asleep while his wife shared a hot tub with an attractive young man. Bianca was fucking her stepson, or wanted to, and she wanted Bree to know. It should be something she'd hide; most parents would have already called the police. But Bree knew she wouldn't. She understood; she had a thing for her stepson and what young man would say no to Bianca.

* * * * *

When she got home, her voice echoing in the house, Bree yelled, "Hello, anybody here."

There were footsteps in the upstairs hallway and then Bryan's voice. "Just me Bree, everybody else is out."

When had Bryan started using her first name? She liked it, liked the familiarity.

"I'm going to pour myself a glass of wine, do you want anything?"

"Some water would be nice, no ice."

* * * * *

Handing Bryan his water, Bree sat on his bed and legs spread, leaning against the headboard, said, "I had a really nice visit with Bianca. I'm on as a chaperone."

Turning his computer chair in her direction, giving her his full attention, Bryan said, "I know, she called. She said you two had a good time, had to chase off a few admirers. I told her I wasn't surprised, two such beautiful women."

Bree said, "She was being kind. It was Bianca who was the center of attention. The woman's gorgeous, and not above a little flirting herself."

Bryan, scanning his stepmother up and down, said, "If you say so, but as good as you look it's a hard to believe she was the only one the crowd was watching. It will be nice having you as my date Saturday night."

Bree said, "Is that what I'm going to be, you're date? You talk like that much more and you'll make your father jealous."

"If he can't protect what's his, he doesn't deserve it. Speaking of which, Dad and Andrea are going to be out for awhile. Want to catch a movie?"

When Bryan's father got home he found the televison on and his son and wife sitting on the couch, she leaning her body into his, his arm draped over her shoulder and laying across her chest.

They seemed so happy and comfortable he started to apologize for bothering them, but Bryan said, "Why don't you sit down Dad, tell us about your day."

Later that night Edward and Bree lay in bed together, drifting towards sleep, the voices singing in praise of Bryan, his magnetism, his skill as a lover, the inadequacy of any other man, of a world without restrictions, where one's libido reigned free.

While the voices left Edward increasingly comfortable with his flagging sex drive, he thought of his wife. As made clear by her daily masturbation, her sexual appetites were growing. She deserved to have those needs satisfied. He didn't want a potentially destructive affair? Was there another way? Something unconventional? Bryan? No, that was insane.

Laying next to him Bree was thinking about her handsome stepson, the ladies at Emerald's, the gorgeous Bianca. Was Bianca bi? She rolled the idea around her mind, found she liked it. Shit, not only was her sex drive intensifying, it was becoming more daring, more inclusive. What would it be like if one's libido reigned free. Then maybe Bryan? No, that was insane.

* * * * *

It was the night of the party and north of town Brian turned off the main road and proceeded down a hard dirt drive. The house it led to became visible as the car made its way around a final copse of trees.

"Very nice. They pay teachers better than I thought."

Saying, "I suspect its family money, although Roy's an engineer, I'm sure he does pretty well," Bryan drove by the front of the house, where several cars were parked in a long circular driveway, and parked in the garage.

"Bryan?"

"Bianca asked me and my hot date to park in their garage. You look great Bree."

"When did I give you permission to use my first name?"

"I'm not sure you did, but it would be unusual to call my date Mom. Do you want me to stop?"

"No, but next time ask."

"Sure, may I call you Bree?"

"Okay."

As Bree checked her make-up in the car mirror Bryan walked around the car, held the door open for her. Her hand in his, he led her though a side door into the house. She noticed he felt comfortable enough not to knock.

* * * * *

The party was a restrained affair, centered on the kids, who spent the evening going through the yearbook, laughing, exchanging stories, reminiscing. Bree's focus, however, was on Bianca and Roy. They were thoughtful energetic hosts, checking on their guests, making sure everyone was happy. If there was a problem between the two of them Bree saw no sign of it.

An hour into the soiree, getting Roy to herself, she asked him about the house and he volunteered to show her around. As they did Roy praised Bryan, told Bree what a wonderful young man he was, mature and intelligent, and how his wife enjoyed working with him. The praise was so fulsome it bordered on over-the-top, but Bree could detect only sincerity in Roy's countenance and respect in his voice.

That's when Bianca wandered in. "I was wondering where you two had gotten to."

Roy said, "Bree asked about the house. I was giving her a tour."

Bree said, "He was; it's absolutely lovely."

Bianca said, "Thank you dear, and if you don't mind finishing the tour with me, Roy darling, Mrs. Buckner is in the kitchen raving about your guacamole. She is dying for your recipe. Can you help her?"

Saying, "Of course," Roy kissed his wife's cheek and returned to his guests while Bree said, "I was just about to ask your husband about the still life over the sofa."

Bianca stepped beside Bree, lay a hand on the back of Bree's neck, and said, "It's my favorite, a Meurer. It's been in Roy's family for generations. When Roy and I were dating I told his mother how much I loved it. You can imagine my surprise when she gave it to us as a wedding gift."

As Bree studied the piece Bianca began kneading the muscles on the back of Bree's neck. Bianca's hours in the gym were evident, her hands and fingers powerful, and Bree soon dropped her head forward and let out a low moan. "That was generous and this feels so good."

Continuing to work Bree's neck Bianca said, "I'm glad you like it. At 8:30, when everybody else leaves, I'd like it if you held back, stayed awhile. I talked to your date, he's on board."