Swim or Sink

She succumbed to her second relationship nearly twenty years later when she was in her early forties. In retrospect, she realized that during her early menopause, her hormones churned up her needs, helped by some pharmaceutical magic intended to alleviate the imbalances. She fell in love with a married man, who promised to leave his wife. Once more Susan insisted on an engagement to Bob, albeit a secret one.

She remembered and exercised much of what she had learned in Paris. Over the two years they were seeing each other, as much as her school schedule allowed, Susan's hormonal balance returned, and she no longer had the urge to create a nest and seek sexual satisfaction. Without the imperative generated by her raging hormones, she began to objectively see that she was playing into a scenario that would compromise her independence she had created over the previous twenty years.

She hated the mess that Bob left on the rare occasions when he stayed over at her house. She liked him well enough if he could live elsewhere. She steadfastly refused to agree to a commitment to marry by a certain date, which would take into account his divorce. He eventually gave an ultimatum: marry or they were done. They were done.

Susan found herself twirling her pubic hairs under water as she thought about her past. She recalled overhearing her students talking about 'Brazilian wax treatment' and learned from Sam about the procedure. Susan placed her index fingers down either side of her pubic region in a triangle to get some idea how it would look if she had a partial Brazilian. She was not impressed. She would live with the generous bush God had given her.

Susan washed without pinching her nipples or massaging her clit. She enjoyed her usual lack of internal horniness, although she admitted that when confronted with an erotic sight, she did get a wave a voyeuristic arousal. Susan smiled to herself as these thoughts ran through her head. She only ever got herself off in front of two men, Chloe and recently two women.

It was a week later, also in the bath, when her thoughts once more returned to her visit to Theresa. She was vaguely aware that Theresa was trying to provoke her and loosen up her inhibitions with alcohol. She wondered if she would allow that to happen again. Susan puzzled over the origins of the deep-seated maternal instinct that drew her to seeing little Susan. The moment the baby briefly reflexively clamped onto her covered nipple, she bonded with her namesake, although she recognized the reverse was probably not true. The baby had her mother, and her life-giving milk. She knew she would let herself go with the flow and do whatever Theresa had planned for her, for she was sure that Theresa would have an agenda, although she would prefer to have little Susan alone with none of the other activities.

Something that niggled at the back of her mind for some time finally surfaced in her thoughts. Theresa had said how blind and naïve she had been about how the students reacted to her. She had trouble believing this. Susan batted around why Theresa might have said this. Was it just flattery, or part of her manipulation to get her to loosen up? Part of Susan wanted it to be true. She knew that she would be truly flattered if indeed some of the students really did think she was sexy and hot. Such flattery mined a deep vein of vanity that Susan tried to suppress.

As she was lying in the bath the thought of the boys mentally having their way with her proved to be a powerful stimulant that had never occurred before. She ran with the fantasy and thought of specific students she hoped would be part of her lustful admirers. She included Peter in her musings. The very thought of stripping naked for them, and with a minimal amount of jilling, Susan brought herself to a very surprising mild orgasm.

On the following day, Friday, as Susan was about to leave for work when she received a phone call from Theresa.

"I am so glad I caught you. I know you leave early to get to school. You always were the first teacher at school I remember. Are you free the Sunday after next?"

Susan thought for a moment. "That's fine. Sunday works for me. What time?"

"Make it noon. I'll have some finger food and a bottle of wine open."

"Little Susan will be there?"

"Of course! Oh. Oh. You do remember it's Easter Sunday."

"So it is. Still no problem. I'll go to Church on Friday and Saturday. Also, there is no school on that Monday now I come to think about it."

"Thank goodness you're free. I am so looking forward to our get together. So is Allison."

"Sure. No problem if you and Allison behave yourselves. You're not trying to loosen me up, are you?" Susan laughed. So did Theresa.

"Goodness me, whatever put that thought in your head? No. That's settled then. Until Sunday. Bye." Theresa disconnected.

Susan had a weekend routine. Saturdays were devoted to putting together a big wash and putting it in the machine, making a meal plan for the week, buying food, going to the bank, and most importantly, going to church for the service. There were variations but essentially it was a catch-up day for obligations.

Sunday was different. Sunday was Susan's day for herself. On this Sunday she had a plan. Susan was a person who needed a plan. After staying in bed until six o'clock, she rose and showered. Selecting her blue satin dressing gown, she looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror doors that covered three walls of her dressing room.

Susan adjusted the doors so she could see her back as well as her front, slipped off her robe and appraised her reflection. She was slim. Her legs were just a touch longer than most people with very smooth knees, slim ankles, well-shaped calves, and sleek muscular thighs. She liked her still narrow waist but was less enamored with the small bulge in her stomach over her wild pubic area, her ribs showed a bit, but she did not look emaciated, her breasts were a C cup with left one just a bit larger than the right. Susan's nipples, with prominent nubs and aureoles, were of just the right proportion relative to the breasts and were set slightly on the upper side of her breasts. Her shoulders were quite wide, and she had quite deep depressions between her collarbones and her shoulder muscles. Her arms were slim and firm. She always thought of them as her best feature. They ended with elegant long fingers.

Susan was critical. She looked at her tight, muscular but very small bottom. She knew it could do with some fat on it. Skirts tended to fall almost directly from her waist. She also realized there was little she could do about this.

Susan was also very self-conscious of her neck. She thought it too scrawny. To disguise it, she wore a lot of turtleneck sweaters. Recently -- horror of horrors -- she discovered the beginnings of the dreaded chicken neck. She had purchased an expensive neck cream and was relieved that hydration seemed to help.

Despite a few shortcomings, she had to admit she looked damn good compared to her contemporaries. Susan had never considered herself to be very attractive. Pretty, perhaps. Body, ok but not great. She was shocked to realize she was one of the best-looking women on staff, even the much younger ones. No wonder she had to dodge the principal who kept making discrete grooming moves on her which fell just short of harassment.

In a ten-minute frenzy, Susan pulled out the contents of most of her drawers and spread them on her king-sized bed in piles and divided them into panties, bras, sweaters, vests, leggings, pantyhose, and stockings. She opened all the cupboard doors so she could see her whole collection of clothes hanging on their hangers. They too were in order; blouses, dresses, skirts, trousers, jeans tidily organized by hanging cupboard.

Susan was intent on updating her wardrobe. Her recent experiences with Theresa drove her to reassess her look. She wanted to achieve a high-class but sexy look. Fortunately, much of Susan's underwear was sexy. This was a small indulgence she had always had. No plain white panties and bras for Susan. She did not use Victoria's Secret but a small almost anonymous lingerie store at the edge of town.

Careful examination of the individual items revealed wear and elastic that had become slack. After an hour Susan had almost filled a large black garbage bag with discarded clothes. As she looked at the turtleneck sweaters and discovered she still had eight even though she had thrown out five. It irked her that Theresa had her so pegged about her turtleneck sweaters and dress trousers she had to restrain her impulse to throw out all the sweaters but could not see herself getting rid of her tailored trousers.

Susan made a list of purchases she needed to get. She had ideas of how she could really see if her students found her hot. After a leisurely breakfast and a cursory scan of the New York Times, Susan was ready to shop.

~~~~~~~~~~

She felt herself getting warm in the ambient heat and the sun reflecting off the front of the building. As she dressed, some brazen courage caused Susan to decide that If they wanted to play she would meet them head on. Susan rang the bell. It was a few moments before Theresa answered.

"Wow. Who's looking good? Very smart."

"Thanks. You're not looking so shabby yourself."

Susan felt as though she was looking at a mirror image of herself, except Theresa's skirt was black, not blue, the white blouse high buttoned to Theresa's neck whereas Susan's was V-necked. Susan wore a royal blue choker scarf around her neck. She also took in that Theresa was not wearing shoes. The only other difference was that Theresa was wearing a bra.

"Come in. Come in." Theresa urged Susan. Allison's face appeared over Theresa's shoulder, with a mild, "Hello."

Susan had already decided to show Theresa that she was not a prude. Also, she planned to come across as being hot. Taking a deep breath to reinforce her resolve, she stepped up to Theresa and kissed her full on the lips accompanied by a tight hug that lasted rather longer than it should. Susan stepped past Theresa, grabbed Allison, and gave the same treatment. The thought 'that'll show them' crossed her mind.

Susan presented a bottle of wine she had researched as being a good event drink into Theresa's hands.

Theresa looked a bit stunned but managed to get out, "Thank you. That was not necessary."

After some other pleasantries, Theresa placed a full glass of champagne into Susan's hands. Theresa guided her to the kitchen where a buffet of finger foods sat under cling-wrap protection. A birthday cake caught Susan's eye. She looked at Theresa, "Your birthday? I didn't know." She felt bad she had not brought a gift.

"Oh, no. It's not my birthday. It's Peter's. He'll be over in about an hour and a half."

This changed the whole complexion of the afternoon for Susan. She felt a sense of deflation from the high she was riding at being hot. Now she would be dealing with a teenage boy who was also a student of hers.

"Don't worry we have time for some fun before he arrives."

It was Theresa who took the initiative to regain control over the situation and pounced on Susan as she set her empty glass down. It was a full-blown lip kiss with an invading tongue and groping hands-on Susan's ass that pulled Susan's vulva into her own. Theresa pulled back a bit, looked down and moved her hands to Susan's tits, as she said, "No bra. Interesting. Firm tits still." She established the veracity of her statement by giving Susan's breasts a firm stroke before she pinched and twisted both nipples at the same time. A buzz broke down Susan's body and took residence in her whole pubic region.

"Allison come up behind Susan and sandwich her to me." Allison moved in and did as she was asked without hesitation. Once in position Theresa continued her instructions. "Lift her skirt and put your hand in her panties and rub her cunt."

Susan wasn't ready for this and resisted by pushing downwards with her hands on Allison's wrists to keep her hem line where it was. Yet her resolve was thwarted by another subtle assault on her nipples and its attendant signals down her body. Her arms relaxed and her skirt was bunched up to her waist as Allison's fingers found their mark.

Susan knew she had lost control and submitted to twin attacks on her senses before losing control to a mounting orgasm that buckled her knees. As she recovered her composure when her two companions backed away from her, Theresa grinned and said, "See, I told you we had plenty of time before Peter arrives. Probably, time for one more round, too. Let me fill your glass again."

Susan looked down and could still see her erect nipples pushing into her blouse. She took a deep breath and replied, "Yes, another glass would be lovely. When can I see little Susan?"

"Oh, it'll be another half-hour before she wakes. No hurry." Allison passed a full glass of champagne to Susan as Theresa continued, "Drink up. Plenty more to be had. A toast. To us, none like us. I learned that one from my dad. He always made us drain our glass with a toast. To us."

Susan raised her glass in the air and then took a modest sip. Seeing the other two take the bubbly liquid in one gulp she decided she better do the same. A short while later she felt she had to sit down.

******

Confusion took over Susan's befuddled mind as she opened her eyes in a semi-lit room that was clearly her bedroom. She looked at her bedside clock. It showed eleven-fifteen in the morning. It was a while before her brain began to organize itself. The first question was "How did I get here?" She had no answer to that. She looked down and saw she was fully dressed except for her shoes as she lay on the top of her bedcover.

The next thought was that she'd had a stroke of heart attack. But that didn't make sense because surely, she'd been in the hospital if that was the case. She did remember she was at Theresa's house with Allison. The thought of their activities came to mind. She then knew she must have been drugged.

What the fuck had happened? Her anger made her rise too quickly. She fell onto her back on the bed again. Her head swirled. Next time, she got up slowly and looked at herself in the mirror. Nothing she could see was different. After stripping off her clothes she re-examined herself. First, she had no panties to remove. Something else was different. It took a while for her fuzzy mind to realize her pubic bush had disappeared. She called out loud every foul name she knew at Theresa and Allison. She had to have a shower to cleanse herself.

In the shower she washed out a rose petal from her hair. Further questions arose: what was a rose petal doing in my hair?

Susan had a strong black coffee and bagel. Her composure returned but anger boiled white hot. She called Theresa's number. Before she could speak Susan was pre-empted, "Hello Susan. Awake now? Like our little prank?"

Susan was thrown off balance. "Prank you call it. You drug me and assault me, why shouldn't I go to the police." As she spoke this thought occurred and seemed just.

Theresa's reply was dry, "You may want to think that over carefully. There are two of us who will swear blind nothing untoward happened, and that you tried to drug us. We spotted what you were doing and reversed the process. I also have CCTV of you coming into the house and kissing us. I can edit that to make it look like an unwanted advance. Relax. Just cool it and treat it for what it was -- a prank -- in which no one was hurt. Anyway, you enjoyed the opening moves, and we enjoyed the rest. Anyway, your bald pussy is much more attractive. Anything else Miss Smith?"

Susan was stunned into silence for a moment and did know how to respond to the counterattack she had been subjected to. "Bitches!" She smashed the disconnect button on her phone. She'd have been shocked and ashamed had she seen Theresa and Allison high fiving each other and dancing around as the phone call ended.

******

The following day she noticed that Peter, who usually sat with his partner at the front bench of the physics lab, was at the back. As the class ended, Miss Smith waved Peter over to her desk at the front. He was red in the face and looked down at his shoes.

"Peter. You OK?"

"Fine Miss. No problems."

"I just wanted to wish you happy birthday. I'm sorry I missed you at Theresa's. If I had known, I'd have brought you a present."

"Thank you. You were present enough. Sorry, I have rush for my next class."

Susan shook her head as she did not understand what Peter was saying. She called after him, "Can you come by here after school. Say three-thirty? "

Now it was Peter's turn to look puzzled. "Sure. If that's what you want. I'm free. Are you certain?"

"Of course, I'm certain. I just asked you, didn't I? See you later." Susan found Peter's comments troubling, and she let her annoyance show. Peter spun on his heels and left without answering.

As she waited for Peter, she assessed her opinion of him. She had always found Peter was great kid. Always polite and helpful. Academically he was probably even brighter than his elder cousin. He had been accepted at MIT for computer studies. She learned from her colleague who taught computer science that Peter was already way ahead of him and only to take the courses to get the grades and requirements for university. He did not run with the jock set, and in fact was not identifiable with any group at school. He swam for the school team and was the regional squash junior champion.

Peter knocked on the door before entering. He was forthright, "Why do you want to see me. Was it about Sunday?"

Susan regarded him carefully and knew she had to discover what was going on even though she might not like the answers. If she opened to him maybe he'd do the same for her.

"Peter, can we talk in confidence?" He nodded in the affirmative. "Good. I'm going to tell you some things that must never leave this room. Agreed?" Again, a nod. "On Sunday, I do not remember anything after two drinks with Theresa and Allison. I woke up late the next morning on my bed fully clothed." She left out the part about her pubic hair. "I think they drugged me."

Peter looked down at his shoes and managed to utter a defensive, "Oh."

"Is that all you can say? Oh?"

"It's complicated."

Susan straightened her back, "As I always teach, go back to the beginning. First principles. Start when we first met at Theresa's. What did you think when you first saw me naked in their hot-tub?"

"Honestly?" Peter's eyebrows were as high as they could get.

"Yes. Full disclosure."

Peter swallowed hard, "Ok here goes. You were -- are-- hot. I only got a glance of you and had to get into the pool for it not to show?"

"Not to show?"

"I became immediately aroused. I know Theresa spotted my condition. Every time I came over to do my training swim, she asked me about what I thought of you. She has a way of wrangling information out of me. I told her you were hot. She asked me if I'd like to fuck you. I tried to be a smartass and brush off her constant inquisition, but she knew the answer." Peter stopped talking.

"And the answer is?"

"Promise not to lower my grades or report me to the principal?"

"Peter. This just between us and nothing to do with school. No grading games and no reporting you to anyone. I promise."

"Given the chance I would fuck you, as would every other guy in our class, except for the two gays. There I've said it."

"Peter. Let me surprise you. I'm flattered, not angry at you. Thank you." Peter's eyes opened much wider as he stared at Miss Smith.

"Now tell me about Sunday."

"When I arrived, they had some beer for me and there was this terrific food layout. Including a cake. You were nowhere to be seen, but I was puzzled by the three glasses. Both Theresa and Allison were dressed in semi-see-through harem outfits with lots of folds of the loose draped material and seemingly no underwear. One was in blue and the other green. They looked very sexy with their peek-a-boo outfits."