The Swinging Professor

Clara watched delighted as Sara dove in with hunger. She got her own hands in to snag some, but Sara was simply gushing with pleasure.

Around a mouthful of food, Sara tried to speak. "Th... so... good..."

"Sara, manners!"

Sara swallowed and grinned, blue cheese stuck to her front teeth. "Sorry! You know how I miss this? No one eats like this at home! Look around you! This place is opulent. The wine alone is what, two hundred dollars a bottle?"

"Close enough..."

"See? You don't even know for sure! Money has no meaning with you!"

Clara's face felt warm. "That's not fair!"

"No, and it's not your fault. You've become this rich girl. It's all around you and you don't see it anymore."

Clara sat quietly. She wasn't sure where this attack was coming from. Sara rarely commented on her lifestyle. She wasn't excessive. It was only when Sara came over that she pulled out the good stuff. She suddenly felt ashamed of the display of her wealth.

Was I now some rich socialite wannabe? Basking in expensive wine and fine foods?

Sara interrupted her thoughts. "I'm sorry, Clara. Forget I said that. It's not fair. I'm just... work is becoming demanding. And I'm tired. Exhausted to my core. I need this weekend. A chance to let my hair down and just let myself go."

"Is this about tomorrow night? You said you would be out. Is it a date? Are you seeing someone?"

Sara looked away. She looked right over to the backyard of Audra. "I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

Clara watched her and when she refused to look back at her, she changed the subject. "How's your father if you don't mind me asking? If that question makes you uncomfortable, I understand. You don't have to answer."

Sara blew out a breath that lifted a few loose strands of hair off her face. "He's fine. Works odd jobs, you know how he is. Still writing. Still sending out queries."

"He's a terrible writer."

"I know."

"You, on the other hand, are brilliant."

"Thanks. I think it pisses dad off, you know?"

"It would."

"I mean, he never asks about my work. Just where I've travelled to."

"He's jealous. You've the gift. I read almost everything you write."

"You do?"

"Of course! I love reading articles by you. I can hear your voice in my head. It's like you're there with me."

Sara looked touched. "Wow, that's awesome. I think about you all the time, you know."

"I do. Listen, I know you said to stop asking about it, but where is it you go on these visits? You come stay here, almost always when I'm away or something, and then head out. Who are you seeing up here? Is it a boyfriend I don't know about?"

"No, nothing like that. Just friends. It sucks you always seem to travel somewhere. You and Chester are always gone. It's not my fault."

"It's not like that. A little advance notice would make sure I'm here for you. Oh, before I forget, Audra stopped by earlier this week and was asking about you. I didn't know you two kept in touch."

Sara's face went through a transformation. From happy and calm, to frightened; to looking away again. "Really? How strange. What was she asking?"

"When you were coming back to town."

"What did you tell her?"

"That you were coming over this weekend. What else would I tell her? Is there something going on with you and Audra I should know about?"

"Know about? No. It's nice she was asking about me."

"She's quite fond of you, you know."

"I do. She's very nice." Sara's tone was wistful.

"Used to be. She has no time for me now. I see all sorts of cars next door at her place. I never get invited. It hurts. We used to be so friendly with one another. She was my best friend."

Sara sat in silence and sipped her wine. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? Whatever for?"

"That Audra has distanced herself. Maybe she's changed? She still likes you, right?"

"I suppose. I don't know because she hardly speaks to me. I see her with Eva all the time at the university. They share lunch. Go for walks. They even go to the bathroom together all the time! They don't so much as glance at me. No. I'm excluded. I don't know why."

Sara drained her glass and rose to get another bottle. She disappeared into the main house, where her cheap wine was. It was always this way. One bottle of the expensive stuff, and then a switch to the cheap stuff. That second bottle always had them screeching with the taste after the Staglin Cabernet.

Clara watched her go and sighed.

Sometimes it feels like Sara is drifting away from me, just like Audra has. What is it about me? What am I doing wrong?

* * *

The next day, Clara rose with her head pounding with a hangover. She staggered out of bed and noted Chester was not in bed. He hadn't shown up for supper, either. He was recusing himself more and more in the house. Distancing himself from her. Clara fought the welling of grief that was threatening to consume her. She had all the wealth she could want. Lived in a mansion. Had the best of everything. But everyone around her moved away. Stopped talking to her.

Clara had drowned herself in wine, weed, and hash last night. She drank too much and then smoked too much. She had barely made it upstairs to bed in the end. She had left Sara passed out by the pool with the movie still playing. She had laid in bed watching colours swirl in her imagination with the weed and hash until sleep and alcohol let her pass out.

She made it to the bathroom, realised she was still in her sundress, pulled her panties down and sat and relieved herself. Finished, she wiped, rose, washed her hands, and then brushed her teeth. Her spit was tinted red from the wine. She looked at her eyes and saw they were bloodshot, and her eyes were rimmed red.

I look like shit.

She went back into the bedroom and pulled out her running gear. In moments, she was out the door, and running through the neighbourhood. As she ran past Audra's place, she remembered the conversation from last night. It did not surprise her to see a few cars still in her driveway.

Angry, she sped up and ran about a mile before she recognised she was still drunk and probably still a little high. She growled and kept running.

An hour later, her hangover gone and feeling normal again, she ran upstairs and showered. When she emerged, her head tilted to dry her hair with a towel, her landline phone rang, startling a screech out of her. It never rang.

She picked up the handset and spoke into it like it was possessed. "Hello?"

"Clara? Thank goodness! I've been trying to reach you all morning on your cell!"

She recognised the voice of her personal assistant. "Sorry, John. I left it downstairs last night." She looked around her bedroom for her phone and couldn't see it. "What's up?"

"A conference in Sydney, Australia. In three days! I messed up. I'm sorry! I forgot to flag it and they pinged me last night asking why I hadn't responded. I forgot to tell you! They have you as a keynote speaker!"

Clara cursed. She put the phone down and covered the speaking end and cursed louder. Goddammit! He has ONE fucking job to do! One thing! It wasn't just that John had fucked her over, he had fucked her over for a trip to the other side of the planet. Trips to Australia required her to prepare mentally. She hated travel and going to Australia was a doozy as travel went.

Clara calmed herself and lifted the phone to her ear. "Do you have me booked?" She could hear the anger in her voice.

"Yes, everything is arranged. Your flight leaves in three hours. You have a tight connection in Los Angeles, but you should be fine. Business class the whole way."

"Australia? Really?"

"Yes, sorry."

She loved Australia and loved Sydney. What she hated was the travel there and the time zone adjustment coming back. She sighed. "John, I'm not happy. I'm pretty angry at you right now. Send me the itinerary. We'll talk when I get back."

"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Damn right, thought Clara. I'll probably fire your ass when I get back...

Clara hung up in disgust and moved to pack her bag, calling out for Sara to join her to tell her the bad news.

An hour later, she passed through security at the airport. She would fly to Orlando for a seven-hour layover and then on to Los Angeles with only an hour to catch the overnight flight to Sydney. She would cross the international dateline and land two days later and somehow miss Sunday altogether. Over twenty-eight hours travelling.

Oddly, Sara had seemed pleased she was leaving. Chester said he was going down to New York for a meeting on the Monday.

Maybe that's why Sara is happy, she thought. She would have the entire house to herself for a week. For a moment, Clara thought perhaps Sara was glad to be rid of her.

But that can't be...

* * *

Sara pulled back up to Clara's house and parked. She walked in the main door and found Chester standing in the main hall opening the mail from yesterday. He looked up when she entered.

"Sara! Good to see you. How was the trip up?"

"Good, actually. I just dropped Clara off at the airport. Off to Australia of all places."

Chester looked up from the letter he was scanning. "Australia? Is that where?"

"Didn't she tell you?"

"Hmm, yes."

Sara gazed at Chester. He was still a good-looking man for his age. Not as fit as Clara, but he took care of himself. She noticed he was dressed in a suit and tie. "You off somewhere?"

"Yes, New York. I won't be back until Wednesday. Will you be all right here?" He didn't look up.

She was about to say something more when her phone rang. She glanced at it and saw the caller. "Sorry, I have to take this..." She walked off deeper into the house. Chester never said a word.

She answered the phone. "Audra! How are you?"

"Terrific. I saw you drive off with Clara. Where's she off to this time?"

"Australia. She's back on Thursday."

"Good Lord! That woman sure gets around. But enough of that. Are you ready to get down?"

Sara felt her pussy tingle and a flutter passed through her stomach. "Oh my God, I can't wait!"

"Everyone is asking about you, again. They love your enthusiasm. And that tasty pussy of yours."

"I'm so wet right now."

"Hurry over. I have pitchers of Sangria ready, a nice supply of Indica and Sativa, and a little bump and molly to get things really going."

"Oh my God! Perfect! With Audra and Chester gone we can push this for a couple of days."

"A couple of days! Sweetheart, my ass and pussy can't take that much cock!"

Sara laughed. Audra could absolutely take that much cock. "Hey, not to be a bummer, but Clara was asking about you. Wanted to know why you were asking about me. We need to be more careful!"

"Girl, Clara doesn't know what's going on here in Poughkeepsie," Audra said with a snort. "It's pathetic, you know. You would think a professor would be more observant. For years I've been swinging next door to her, and she doesn't have a clue. I tried to open the door for her, but she's a cold fish."

"She's not! She has no idea because she trusts us, Audra! She feels like you've abandoned her, and she's not wrong! You two were best friends! But imagine if Clara found out you're a swinger and I was involved? You, your husband, and everyone else?"

"Well, Clara would have a fit. That's for sure."

Sara and Audra laughed softly together. That was an understatement.

Sara sighed. The problem with Clara is for another day. "I'll be over soon."

"Good. A bunch of people stayed over last night and are still here out by the pool. I'll let everyone know you're coming over. Hurry over!"

Chapter Four - Breadcrumbs

CLARA TOOK HER bag from the Uber driver as he unloaded it from his trunk, thanked him, and walked up to her front door. The Uber pulled away and drove down to the gate. Clara was exhausted. To her, it was one of the longest Wednesday and Thursdays of her life. The sun would soon set behind her house, and she wanted nothing more than to soak in the hot tub and smoke a blunt and watch it.

She had been hoping to see Sara, but Sara had texted her as she was landing in Poughkeepsie that she had to return to New York City and had left in a rush only an hour ago. That had depressed her, and now home, she felt even worse. Sara wasn't answering her texts and Clara was feeling close to crying. On the way home, Chester texted her and said he was being held up in New York with work. He wouldn't be home until Saturday.

Everything in my life is unravelling and I don't know why! I feel like I'm on a precipice and about to fall. Chester is probably balls deep in some whore and eating her diseased ass, right now.

The conference had gone well. Her keynote address had been very well received. She had mixed and mingled and almost slept with some guy from Finland, but a younger woman had snagged him, and she still felt frustrated. She was still good looking, but surrounded by younger female professors, she was the last of the pick, it seemed. To her, it had seemed everyone had been hooking up with someone, but her.

Clara carried her suitcase up the stairs to her bedroom. She opened it and tossed dirty clothes into her laundry hamper. She pulled out two bottles of Penfolds Grange 2012 and smiled at them. She knew Chester would like them. The Grange 1951 was a Holy Grail of wine. She knew the 2012 was similar in flavour and Chester might be pleased enough to give her a good fucking.

She threw on her robe and left everything where it was. She checked her phone and saw Sara was still not responding to her. She went downstairs and into the kitchen. She spied the notes on the countertop at once and picked up the one from Sofia.

Senora MacQuarrie, your supper is in the fridge. 3 minutes in the microwave should be fine. Leave all your clothes for me to wash in the morning. Welcome home! Sofia.

Clara put down the note and picked up the next one. It was from Sara.

Clara, thanks for the hospitality! Sorry I have to return to New York. A deadline moved up and I have to get on top of it. Love, Sara.

Clara grumbled and went to the liquor cabinet. She grabbed the Dalmore 50-year-old scotch in its strange black bottle and poured a few ounces in a glass. Chester would be mad she was taking it, but at the moment she didn't care. She took a big swallow and topped up her glass.

To her, it tasted like any other single malt.

Just then a phone rang, except it wasn't Clara's. The ringtone was something modern and pop.

She frowned and looked around trying to determine where the sound was coming from. She wandered out toward the front door and then the phone stopped. She looked around and then on a whim, looked into the small bathroom near the front door. There, sitting on the counter, was Sara's phone.

She picked it up and the locked screen appeared. Just then the phone rang again, and the call display said it was Audra.

Clara gasped and almost dropped the phone. "Why is Audra calling Sara?" The phone rang a few more times, went to voice mail, and the call dropped. A notification appeared and said there were four missed calls from Audra.

"Four missed calls? Why is Audra calling Sara over and over?"

Clara felt her frustration boiling over. There was something going on between Sara and Audra. All the little hints, signs, comments, and evasive answers from Sara all lined up to... to something, Clara knew.

Clara took Sara's phone with hers out to the hot tub. She turned on the machine and it thrummed to life, sounding loud in the early evening air. She went to the bar and opened the humidor and reached past the Cuban cigars to a nice fat blunt. She grabbed it and lit it up, seating herself down on a bar stool. Her robe opened and her heavy breasts spilled forward. She didn't care.

Her thoughts were only on Sara's phone and the secrets contained within. She knew what she wanted to do but hesitated.

"Sometimes the truth is too much to bear," she said aloud. She took a large swallow of scotch and hit the blunt. She loved the flavour of a blunt combined with scotch. She drew in the acrid smoke and held it before blowing it out. A thick plume wafted over the bar and cabana.

She stayed there staring at the phone, drinking her scotch, and smoking the blunt. She waited for the high to hit her and when it did, she felt herself relax. She slumped at the bar and laid her head on her arms and stared at Sara's locked screen. On a whim she reached out and swiped up. The phone scanned for Sara's face but remained locked.

"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference," she said out loud, quoting Robert Frost.

She stared at the phone.

"Dammit."

Just then Sara's phone rang again, and Clara screeched and sat upright. It was Audra. Again. Clara grumbled and then opened her own phone. She opened her Photos app and found a picture of Sara. She zoomed in on the face until it filled her display.

"Please let this work."

She held it up to Sara's phone and tried it on the locked screen and whooped when it worked, and Sara's phone unlocked.

Clara stared at Sara's phone for a long time. The blunt had her head swimming nicely. Her ears rang a little with the buzz. She felt emboldened, and she wanted answers. She reached out to open the messages and then decided against it and put down the phone. When it thumped on the bar top, it locked right away.

She picked it up and opened it with her picture of Sara.

She touched the phone icon and then saw the Voicemail icon with the number nine beside it. She opened it and selected the oldest message.

Audra's voice came out of the speakers. "I hope you enjoyed the party and all the special gifts! I just sent you the video you asked for, enjoy it! You're at your best. Can't wait to see you in a couple of months. Love you! Bye!"

Clara stared at the phone as the message ended. What party and what video is Audra talking about?

Clara opened the messenger app and found a lot of texts from Audra. She opened it and scrolled quickly through the texts, not wanting to read them and breach more of their privacy, but she had to see this video.

How was Sara at her best? What does that even mean?

She found the video link and pressed it. The video started in the top half of the phone display. Clara turned the phone to the side and video expanded, shifted, and filled the display.

In the video, Clara could see Sara coming through the front door at Audra's house. Audra stepped forward, wearing a tight-fitting, strapless, summer dress that matched Sara's and accented their lithe forms and pushed their large breasts forward and up, creating a deep cleavage for each of them. The elastics at the top of the dresses were halfway down their breasts—more than would be socially acceptable on the street. They hugged briefly, their breasts mashing together. Clara blinked rapidly when she saw they were intentionally rubbing their tits together.

What!?

They exchange pleasantries and Audra took Sara by the hand and pulled her deeper into the house, the person on the camera staying with them. From off camera, Sara was handed a drink full of fruit and red wine.

Sangria, guessed Clara, and kept watching.

The video captured a few other people standing around in groups talking with drinks in hand. None of them were familiar to Clara. Many of them raised their glasses to Sara and called her by name with winks and air kisses. The women all wore similarly styled dresses. The men wore polo shirts and loose cargo shorts. The camera stayed on Sara and Audra and then Clara gasped. As the camera panned, she saw Eva and Samuel Landry from the university standing in the frame.