Serendipity

Rheumatic fever started it all and set the stage for what ultimately happened. While rare in the United States, the fever still managed to overtake me early in the fourth grade. Complications from the disease proved serious enough that much of my school year was sidelined and my family decided it was best to hold me back a year.

Being a year older than everyone else in my class was both a blessing and a curse. I was called 'Grandpa' or 'Pops' by my many of my classmates. Most of it was good-natured but the whole thing got stale after a while. Hence the curse part.

Things changed as I approached high school. I turned sixteen the summer before tenth grade and was the only kid with a driver's license when school started. That was the blessing, or so I thought the day I got my license.

I became a popular transportation resource for my friends during daylight hours but my parents were too smart to let me drive after dark, which put a major damper on my plans for an active sex life in the back seat of the family Crown Victoria.

I attended one high school in the tenth and eleventh grades. Then my father accepted a job in a different state, the family moved, and I found myself facing a second school entering the twelfth. Biology became a problem. Both schools required one credit in biology to graduate with the 'academic' diploma required for students heading off to college. The problem was that the two school districts put the biology requirement in a different grade. The first school held it to be a senior level subject. The last had it scheduled as a part of the tenth grade curriculum.

Since I had most of the credits I needed to graduate, my senior schedule was going to be fairly light. Biology would be my first class in the morning followed by AP Math and English. Lunch would break the day in half and was to be followed by two back-to-back study halls. My school day would be over by two o'clock. And so, on the first day of classes in my senior year, I found myself, at the advanced age of eighteen, entering a room full of tenth graders.

Normally, I would take a seat in the back of the room where I could observe the other students during class when the subject matter got boring. But since I found nothing interesting about sophomores, I took a seat in front that first morning. No teacher was in sight so I settled in to wait for his or her arrival.

A bell rang. Still no teacher. A couple of minutes passed before she strode purposefully through the doorway carrying what was probably a class roster and grade book. I immediately lost interest in what she was carrying. She was gorgeous. Or at least her face was. Her body was hidden by a long, loose-fitting skirt and matching long sleeved blouse that blurred the lines of her figure.

She was a small woman, perhaps five foot two or three and likely not much more than a hundred pounds or so. She had an unruly mop of short, dark curly hair, a generous mouth, and beautiful green eyes I could easily see from my vantage point just a few feet away. Biology class was beginning to look far more interesting than I originally thought.

"Good morning class. My name is Miss Wells," she announced. "We have something in common. This is your first day in biology class and it's my first official day of teaching. I know a lot about biology but I have much to learn about teaching so we'll all just have to work our way through the school year together. I'm betting it will be lots of fun."

Miss Wells spent a few minutes taking attendance and we each acknowledged our presence when our names were called.

"Let's get started," she finally declared, satisfied that her roster and class attendees matched. I paid little attention, completely mesmerized by her beauty and overwhelmed by my own raging hormones.

Two days later I got an 'F' on a pop quiz concerning the previous day's lab work. I was dumbfounded, having never received a failing grade in my life. When the bell rang to announce the end of the period, I tried to blend in with the younger kids and slink out the door.

"Chris!" Miss Wells called out. "Hold on a moment please."

"Yes Ma'am," I answered and returned to stand at her desk.

"After grading your quiz last night, I pulled your transcript this morning. You've been a straight 'A' student all your life. I'm a little puzzled."

There was no way I was going to tell her I'd spent every moment during the week fantasizing about her instead of paying attention.

"I guess I thought the material would be easier since the class is for sophomores. I should have paid more attention. It won't happen again."

"Good. With your academic record, you should be able to handle this material with ease. I'll see you tomorrow. And if you need help, just ask."

"Yes Ma'am."

I kept my word. With great effort, I focused on the class material and got high marks on quizzes, tests, and lab reports. Miss Wells was confined to my nocturnal activities. I jerked off every night after lights out with her as the center of my thoughts, trying to imagine what might be hidden beneath the loose clothing she wore.

****

After a month or so went by, it was apparent that Miss Wells had a gift for teaching. One by one, she uncovered some special area of interest to pursue with each student in addition to the routine biology lessons. In my case, she detected something satirical and loaned me a copy of Voltaire's Candide. After that it was the works of Jonathan Swift beginning with Gulliver's Travels.

By late October, I began to realize that she had singled me out for a little more attention than the younger students received. The difference was subtle but detectable. Greatly flattered, I chalked it up to my age and maturity compared to the others.

Biology was divided between classroom lectures and lab work. Tuesdays and Thursdays were lab days. In early November Miss Wells detained me at the end of class on a Monday.

"Chris," she began, "I could use a little help on Mondays and Wednesdays getting ready for the next day's laboratory work. I was wondering if you might be interested in being my lab assistant. I know you have back-to-back study halls each afternoon. If you don't need all that time for your homework, I can get you excused to help me if you're willing."

I'd have scrubbed the teacher's lounge on my hands and knees with my own toothbrush if that would keep me close to Miss Wells for a little more time each week.

"I'd love to help out," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "I always knock out my homework in the first study hall period. I usually read the books you've loaned me during the second."

"Good!" she exclaimed. "I'll get you released from the second study hall. Meet me in the lab at one o'clock sharp."

And so it was that I got to spend an additional two hours each week with the woman of my fantasies. I was in heaven. She looked good and smelled good when I could get close enough to breathe in her intoxicating scent. The extra time poured fuel on the fire and my nightly masturbation episodes took on a new intensity.

Miss Wells and I worked together easily. My job was to thaw out the specimens for dissection by the students the following day and to lay out scalpels and pins at each work station. Whenever I thought it safe, I would study her closely as she moved about the lab or sat grading papers.

Over time I gradually learned a little more about her. Another teacher stuck her head in the laboratory door one afternoon and addressed her as 'April.' One of the tenth grade girls got into a discussion about birthstones at the end of class one day and Miss Wells said she had two - tourmaline and opal. A little research told me her birth month was October. I had already concluded that she was very young, maybe only twenty-two or twenty-three; not all that much older than my nearly nineteen years. That started me thinking along forbidden lines.

Day by day I became more smitten. I began to invent reasons to linger in the lab after I had completed my work. Miss Wells didn't seem to notice and I became emboldened. Finally, I made an error in judgment and did something really stupid.

"Miss Wells, do you suppose you and I might have lunch or dinner together this weekend. Or maybe catch a movie?" I asked, hoping like crazy she'd say yes.

Miss Wells stared at me for a moment and then crushed me. She did it kindly, but I was destroyed nonetheless.

"Chris, you are an attractive young man and I'm flattered by your invitation. But it's not going to happen. You are a student and I am a teacher. Socializing together is a line that we are not going to cross. I hope you understand."

"Yes...yes ma'am," I stammered, blushing furiously. "I'm sorry. I know I was out of line."

And then a thought struck me.

"How about after I graduate?"

After another long look, she replied.

"That's a different matter. Perhaps we can have lunch together to celebrate your graduation. We'll talk about it in June. In the meantime, you need to be concentrating on your school work, applying to colleges, and looking for scholarship opportunities. With your grades, you should have your pick of good schools."

"I'm already working on that. I've submitted an application for appointment to the Air Force Academy. I've been thinking I might want to be a fighter pilot."

"Chris, I think you're going to be successful at whatever you decide to do. Now let's finish up and call it a day."

****

The rest of the school year dragged on, seemingly forever. I spent much of my time mentally slobbering all over myself with thoughts of the two of us enjoying an intimate relationship after graduation.

In April I was notified that I had received the appointment to the Academy. My parents were thrilled. After all, a free education was a huge financial windfall for the family.

A couple of weeks before the school year ended, the biology classes were thrown a curve. Miss Wells informed us that the school board had decided to insert a week of sex education into the biology syllabus at the end of the school year. This announcement was met with snickers and giggles from the tenth graders and a pounding heart from the lone twelfth grader.

Miss Wells wrapped up biology work for our class with a final exam on a Friday morning, which I aced. Sex education would begin on Monday and would not be subject to testing for a variety of reasons.

I spent as much of the weekend jerking off as I could manage. I mean, hell, I knew a little about the birds and the bees but the thought of Miss Wells talking about sex openly was almost more than I could handle.

On Monday morning, she walked into class with something rolled up under her arm. All of us watched wide-eyed as she unrolled a huge diagram of female genitalia and taped it to the white board. An equally large diagram of male equipment was soon taped alongside.

Miss Wells turned to face us and stepped to one side without saying a word for a minute or two, apparently letting us get used to the images in the front of the room. She seemed completely at ease while the students, including me, were blushing furiously.

Finally, she picked up a pointer and tapped it lightly on the limp dick in the diagram.

"Anyone know what this is?" she asked with a slight smile. Her question was met with silence.

"Come on," she encouraged.

Fuck it, I thought to myself. "It's a penis," I announced, trying to appear calm but giving myself away as my voice cracked.

"Correct. Now what is this?" she inquired, tapping the pointer on the crotch in the other diagram.

Finally one of the more outspoken girls in the class announced that it was, indeed, a vagina.

"Good. Now that we all know the basic parts, let's go into more detail and spend the rest of the week learning why these two items are quite likely the most important biological objects on the planet.

The rest of the week was insane. Miss Wells remained completely at ease as she described, in detail, the various parts that make up the male and female reproductive systems. She pulled no punches. I am certain she went well beyond what the school board had in mind as she spent a lot of time talking about human sexual response from arousal to climax, explaining in detail how men and women gave each other pleasure during the sex act. She described various positions for intercourse and the advantages and disadvantages of each, using two well-endowed, anatomically correct dolls to illustrate her points.

She quickly brushed aside male orgasms, claiming that men enjoyed an orgasm virtually every time they had sex. Women, she informed us, were not so lucky. And then she proceeded to describe in detail what a female orgasm felt like and what a considerate, attentive gentleman might do to help a woman achieve her objective.

"The man who takes his time is certain to be a hit with the ladies," she informed us, "unless the lady in question is in need of a quickie." This comment invoked further giggles and snickers from the class.

Miss Wells emphasized the importance of safe sex and then discussed birth control, informing everyone that the various methods available to achieve it were a matter of personal choice.

After covering those subjects, she blew us all away by openly discussing masturbation. Falling just short of assigning homework for the topic, I was certain there were a lot of busy fingers that night.

I spent most of the week with an erection and I'm pretty sure the other guys did as well. For their part, the girls spent a lot of time squirming in their seats. Miss Wells pretended not to notice.

On Friday, the senior class was finished for the year. The underclassmen had a few remaining classes the following week while we seniors went through several days of endless rehearsals for the various recognition and graduation ceremonies. Throughout that week, I did not lay eyes on Miss Wells.

Graduation day finally arrived and it was all a blur of caps, gowns, proud parents, beaming relatives, friends and classmates. I don't know about the rest of the seniors, but I was exhausted at the end of the long day and slept until my alarm went off at ten the next morning. The only thing I had to do was turn in my cap and gown at the school before noon. After that, I had the entire day to myself. And I was almost nineteen years old; free to do whatever I wanted.

My parents, bless their hearts, had given me a late model used car as an early graduation present. I had two weeks before reporting to the Academy in Colorado Springs and nothing to do but pack before leaving. After showering, shaving, and dressing in shorts and a tee shirt, I grabbed my cap and gown and headed to my high school for the very last time. Or so I thought at the time.

****

After standing in line forever in the gym, I handed over my cap and gown, got a receipt, and went out into the hallway, almost knocking Miss Wells down when I ran into her. Literally.

"Oh, jeez," I exclaimed, "I am so sorry."

"That's okay Chris," she laughed as she straightened her clothing. "I was looking for you anyway."

I was suddenly speechless when I saw what she was wearing. I had known her for about nine months and had never seen skin other than her hands, face, neck and the occasional glimpse of an ankle. Today she was wearing a sleeveless wraparound dress with a hem than ended just above her knees. Her legs were bare and the open-toed high heels she wore accentuated the beautiful curve of her calves. She was stunning.

"Wha...why?" I stammered.

"Some time ago we discussed having lunch together to celebrate your graduation. If you have no other plans, I'd like to buy your lunch."

"I don't have any plans. I was just starting to think about how I wanted to spend my first day of freedom from school," I replied after regaining my composure. "Lunch would be nice."

"Do you have wheels?" Miss Wells inquired.

"I do. My parents bought me a car for graduation. I've had it for a couple of months."

"Congratulations! If you'd like to follow me, I know a nice place across town to have a relaxing lunch. My car is in the faculty lot. Drive around and meet me at the entrance to the school," she instructed. "I'm driving a red Camaro."

I bolted for my car, thrilled at the prospect of spending time with her outside of a classroom or laboratory. As I drove out of the student lot, I spotted her car and pulled in behind as she turned onto the street fronting the school. Twenty minutes later we parked side by side in front of an obviously upscale restaurant.

"I can't go in there dressed like this," I protested, gesturing at my shorts and tee shirt.

"I know it looks pretty swanky, but it's really very casual."

We entered and were shown to a booth, the hostess paying no attention to my attire.

When we were seated and had ordered iced tea, I asked her the question that had been on my mind during the drive over; or one of the questions at least.

"What made you decide to go to lunch with me?"

"Well, you are no longer a student and I am no longer a teacher."

"What?" I asked, not certain if I had heard her correctly.

"I gave notice two weeks ago. As of today, I am unemployed. I have decided to attend graduate school and pursue a doctorate in microbiology at Michigan State. They have an excellent program up there."

"But you are such a great teacher. All your students think so highly of you," I offered, also thinking that her resignation was probably the reason she was willing to go way out on a limb during our week of sex education.

"I do enjoy teaching and I will return to it someday, but I think I want to teach at the collegiate level. I'll need a doctorate to be a full professor and get tenure. No sense wasting time, so I start classes in the fall. How about you? When do you report to the Air Force Academy?"

"In two weeks."

"Are you driving out there?"

"I can't have a car the first year so my folks are going to store it for me. Next summer I'll take leave and drive the car back out to the Academy when it's time to return."

Our server returned with our tea and took our orders. Miss Wells surprised me by ordering a cheeseburger and fries. I would have guessed she'd order something healthy. Having no such inclination, I ordered a Reuben sandwich and fries.

"Miss Wells...," I began after the server departed.

"Call me April," she interrupted.

"April it is then. I know a guy is not supposed to ask a woman her age, but I've been curious about you ever since the start of the school year."

"I'm twenty-two," she replied with a chuckle. "I was twenty-one when I graduated from college and didn't turn twenty-two until last October. And I know from your records how old you are. You'll be nineteen next month and I know all about the rheumatic fever. That's in your record too."

We talked for a few more minutes until our meals arrived. April attacked her burger with relish and I did the same with my Reuben, suddenly realizing I was starving.

We continued to talk between mouthfuls and, before we knew it, our lunch had been consumed.

"Tell me," April began after wiping her mouth with a napkin, "what time do you have to be home today?"

"I don't have to go home at all. After yesterday, my house rules have been reduced to only two. I have to tell my folks if I'm going to be home for dinner and I have to tell them if I'm going to spend the night away from the house so they won't wait up for me. Mom and Dad both feel strongly that, because of my age, and because I'll be sworn into the Air Force in a couple of weeks I might as well enjoy as much freedom as possible. They know I won't have much of that during the first year at the Academy."

"Well, if you're interested, I have something I'd like to show you."

I didn't give a shit what she wanted to show me. All I wanted to do was prolong our time together.