Student and Teacher Ch. 11

"Of course not," Iris snapped. "I can keep my mouth shut. But she's going to have to know sometime or other—that is, if you really want her long-term."

"Of course I do. I guess I'll figure it out somehow or other."

Damon hadn't even told Nan whose house he and Brad were staying in; and when, that very evening, he did so, Nan was struck with amazement.

"You're living with a professor? How can that be?"

"It just worked out that way," Damon said evasively.

"What's the deal? Are you and Brad renting rooms in her house?"

"Something like that," he said, in a flat lie.

Nan shook her head in disbelief, but agreed to come over for dinner the next day. She had already met Brad a few times, but the issue of how she and Iris would get along—even if Nan didn't know the true state of affairs—was the big question.

And so, when Nan showed up on Iris's doorstep, Damon greeted her with exaggerated enthusiasm.

"Gee, it's great you're here! This is a real nice house, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," Nan said slowly as she floated into the living room and saw at once that it was not in any way as messy as Damon had described. A moment later, Iris came out of the kitchen, wearing her patented apron, and extended a hand.

"You must be Nan," she said. "How wonderful to meet you. Damon has told me so much about you."

Nan shook hands in a daze, drinking in the mature beauty of the older woman. Damon hasn't told me a thing about you—and I wish he had.

Dinner progressed well enough, as Damon kept up a steady stream of chatter and even got Brad to contribute a bit more to the conversation than was usual with him. They talked a lot about the upcoming baseball season, as workouts had already begun for the preseason games that would start in about a month.

Nan had initially been fairly voluble herself, especially since Damon had pointedly asked her all manner of questions about her childhood, family, and other personal details. But Iris noticed that she seemed to lapse into silence as the evening progressed, and after dessert she begged off watching a movie together and asked Damon to come upstairs for a private chat.

The first bit of awkwardness was where they would go for that chat. Damon quickly steered her away from Iris's bedroom, with its king-size bed; but the only other bedroom was where Brad kept most of his things, and Damon hoped to heaven that Nan wouldn't notice. He was already pretty nervous about what Nan was thinking, given the troubled look that had covered her face for the past hour or more.

As the two of them flopped on the bed, both on their backs, Nan wasted no time in bringing up the subject at the forefront of her mind.

Staring blankly at the ceiling, she said, "You're sleeping with her, aren't you?"

"What?" Damon exploded. "Sleeping with whom?"

"Iris," Nan said flatly.

"Oh, come off it, Nan!" Damon blustered. "I'm a student and she's a teacher! She wouldn't do anything like that, and I wouldn't either! That's crazy!"

"But you are," Nan persisted, in an uncannily subdued tone. Then, unexpectedly, she rolled over and slipped into Damon's arms. "It's okay—I don't mind, really I don't."

"You don't?" he said in wonderment.

"It's obvious you've known her for a long time, and you're pretty devoted to her. And so is Brad."

"How—how could you tell?" he said, realizing that the time for deception was over.

She laughed shortly. "The way she looks at you, and the way you look at her. All three of you—you're in love, aren't you?"

"Oh, but Nan," Damon said earnestly, holding her tight and speaking right into her ear, "I love you! I said so, and I mean it!"

"I know you do. I believe you. I guess this is something we'll have to work out, isn't it?"

He gazed upon her as if she were a wondrous goddess who had floated down from heaven. "You're such an incredible creature, Nan! You're the best!"

She smiled at that comment, sensing that it was a standard response that he had said to any number of women (especially Iris) over the years.

"Will you—will you stay here tonight?" he begged.

"I don't know . . ."

"Oh, please! You have to! Please, please, please! I don't want to be away from you tonight."

"I don't have any nightwear, or a change of clothes."

"Iris can lend you a nightgown, and some underwear for tomorrow."

"All right," she said in resignation. "But I don't think I want— I mean, I just think we should cuddle tonight."

Damon nominally agreed to that, and he persuaded her to go back downstairs to watch a movie with the others. Iris caught a look at Nan's expression and gave Damon a worried glance. He felt he had no choice but to sidle up to her and whisper: "She knows."

A shiver ran through Iris. "How—how could she?"

"I told you, she's really smart. She figured it out on her own."

Iris quickly looked over to the young woman, now seated quietly on the couch, next to Brad. "Is she—okay?"

"She says she is, but I don't really know."

"I think," Iris said, with furrowed brow, "I'm going to have to talk to her sometime."

"Yeah, I guess you will."

But they put those thoughts aside for the time being, and everyone tried to enjoy the film noir that they had chosen to watch. Afterwards, Iris dug out a pretty little baby-doll nightgown and a clean pair of panties and handed them over to Nan, who took them with thanks.

In spite of her pledge, Damon got Nan to let him enter her once, in a tender, heartfelt lovemaking session that concluded with orgasms on both sides and (Damon hoped) a thorough reassurance of Damon's love for her.

It was after breakfast the next morning that Iris pulled Nan over for a chat in the living room, while the guys were upstairs getting ready for the day.

For a time the two women just gazed at each other. Then Iris took up both of Nan's hands in hers and said:

"You're such a dear, sweet person, and Damon loves you so much."

Nan couldn't look Iris in the face. "I know he does. But he loves you too."

"Yes, he does."

"And so does Brad."

"That's true. They're two wonderful boys—I mean, young men."

"When did this start?"

"Not that long ago. Last semester."

Nan raised her eyebrows. "Only then?"

"Both of them had taken a class with me the semester before. I guess—I guess they'd developed a fondness for me." She didn't want to insult her men's feelings by calling it a "crush."

"And you?"

"Well, it took me a while to warm up to them. At first I thought they were just interested in—you know." She colored as she spoke.

"Yeah. Damon's pretty keen on that."

"But I soon saw it was a lot more than that."

"I can see that too."

"You don't find it strange?"

"Strange how?"

"You know—I'm a professor and they're students. There is a pretty big age difference."

"It can't be that big."

"Twelve years, Nan."

"Okay, maybe, but I don't know that that matters a whole lot."

"No, I don't think it does. But the issue is: what do you feel about it?"

Now Nan did look straight at Iris. "Look, I'm sure Damon told you I'm not exactly very—experienced. I've had crushes on boys, going all the way back to junior high, but what I feel for Damon is way more than that."

"Yes, that's quite clear."

"So"—and Nan suddenly choked up—"if I only have a part of him, I guess I can live with that."

"I don't really think it's like that," Iris said. "We're not really sharing him, except in the crude sense that he can't be in both of our beds at the same time. But that's really a pretty small part of our relationship with him, isn't it?"

"Maybe, but it's a pretty important part."

"True enough, but you have to realize that there's really no future in any relationship between me and Damon—or me and Brad."

"Why do you say that?"

"Oh, Nan, it's obvious! What do you think could ever happen? That I'd run away with one or both of them? That I'd marry one or the other of them? It's just not going to happen. Damon might marry you, but not me."

"He'll never leave you!"

"I hope not, but there may come a time when he—puts me on the shelf."

"Oh, don't say that!" Nan cried, almost hurling herself at Iris and wrapping her in a close embrace. "You're so sweet and lovely—no man could ever do that to you!"

"You'd be surprised," Iris said, and suddenly found her eyes filling with tears.

Nan pulled back, holding Iris by the shoulders and peering into her face. "Please don't think such things. These guys are true and faithful—they'd never do anything to hurt you."

"I'm sure they wouldn't," as the tears now flowed down her face.

Nan couldn't help shedding a few tears herself. They both seemed embarrassed at their emotional outburst—and then something odd happened.

Without a word, and as if on a signal, they renewed their embrace, and Nan brought her face up to Iris's. The two women's lips came together for a long, slow, deep kiss that seemed to last an eternity. Both inhaled the heady body-scent of the other, and at one point Nan shyly inserted a tiny bit of her tongue into Iris's mouth, and the older woman flicked it hesitantly with her own.

At last, after a full minute, they disengaged. They had startled looks on their face, and then they both burst out into nervous laughter. At the same time, they knew in their hearts that what had just happened was no accident. Maybe each was aware that the lips she had just pressed to her own were the very ones that also pressed the lips—and other parts—of the man they both loved. But that was only a part of the matter, and perhaps only a small part. In spite of their very brief acquaintance, both women instinctively sensed that they were very much alike—not only in their relative inexperience with men (before meeting Damon), but in many other ways. Their difference in age meant little; they both realized that they were smart, appealing women who had a lot to offer to the world, and to the men they cherished.

This was going to be a very interesting relationship.