The teacher

Kisses in the dark. The lightning flashes outside. Only those who have truly lived know that there is no difference..

"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,

To the last syllable of recorded time;

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,

And then is heard no more. It is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

Signifying nothing." Shakespeare 

She could recite Shakespeare like Shakespeare himself; all the other college professors would say with the utmost admiration. Nancy was thirty. 5 foot five, raven colored hair "And built like a brick sh...house" her husband of all of three years would tease her saying.

In class the raven hair was kept up in a tight bun and she took no nonsense. When she caught one of her students staring at her and not his textbook, she called him on it, but not in any mean way. No, she had a way of turning into a class joke that made the point.

The student she caught was thirty-two. A playwright and recognized stage actor. Backstory was that he served in Afghanistan. His father was World War Two. Both he and his father had a brother who didn’t make it back. He wrote this for one of his plays:

Come meet my neighbors:

Just down from the church is a man who fought in the First World War. He loved this church as a boy and always said he would move here someday so he could hear the bells on Sunday.

His neighbor fought in World War two and Korea. They called Korea the forgotten war, but he never forgot what he saw over there.

Just over there a-ways is a lady who grew up in the Great Depression. She had a son over in Vietnam. She always hoped he would come home someday.

Yes, I have some pretty incredible neighbors here. They all lived not far from this neighborhood and this is where they settled down. Only the dates on a stone remain to tell their story.

There’s a young man who fought in the Gulf War who grew up not far from here and plans to come home here to stay someday. Two of his buddies from Iraq have already taken their rightful place among the ranks.

They can’t tell their stories now, but their neighbors made a pledge to remember them. A pledge made on that red, white and blue flag that hangs there on the churchyard flagpole.

I hope to meet all these fine neighbors of mine someday.

 Handsome yes. Appearing sexy to his teacher, yes. In class she would tell no one, but everyone knew.

“My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;

Coral is far more red than her lips' red;

If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;

If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

I have seen roses damasked, red and white,

But no such roses see I in her cheeks;

And in some perfumes is there more delight

Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know

That music hath a far more pleasing sound;

I grant I never saw a goddess go;

My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.

   And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare

   As any she belied with false compare.” Shakespeare

This was Valentine's day. And it was thundering and lightning outside. Everyone in the class had plans for this evening. The sun was setting in crimson outside. One of Nancy's teacher/girlfriends joked with her about her plans with her handsome husband tonight.

As the class dispersed the last girl out looked back at her and her handsome student and her teacher and smiled "goodnight". It was honest girl bantering.

She shut the door behind her. Nancy relaxed by dropping her hair and loosening her top buttons. As she bent over to gather her paperwork, handsome was looking right down her blouse.

"My compliments on a great class, once again you had us in the palm of that gorgeous hand of yours!" "Well, I noticed this one gentleman who couldn't stop checking out my tits!"

Well madam, they are magnificent tits. And I know you have your black lace bra on!" Oh, you do, do you!" Well, I happened to be married!" "I'm married too!" Well, does your wife know you spend your time in class looking down your professor's shirt"?

"Oh, she knows", he said with a smirk. His approach towards her was getting into the danger zone.

She could not keep him away, never could. They fell into each other's grasp with a long passionate kiss as he started to reach into her slacks.

"My daughter is with her grandmother for the weekend" she mused. My husband has dinner reservations for us". They keep kissing.

"Anyone could walk in that door" she quietly reminded him.

"I could lock that door, throw you on this desk right now, and pull every stitch of clothes off. But then you'd be late for those reservations. "Couldn't have that now, could we"? (more kisses)

With his one surviving arm, he reached into his pocket: "Happy Anniversary honey!" he has a box with a diamond necklace in it. He puts it around her neck. Brushes his fingers along and down her neckline "Happy Anniversary sweetheart!"

"We could forget those reservations." He mentions. She whispers as they kiss "No, no we can't. "If you're going to f... a girl at least feed her first"!

Unless you can think, when the song is done,

No other is soft in the rhythm;

Unless you can feel, when left by One,

That all men else go with him;

Unless you can know, when unpraised by his breath,

That your beauty itself wants proving;

Unless you can swear "For life, for death!" -

Oh, fear to call it loving!

Unless you can muse in a crowd all day

On the absent face that fixed you;

Unless you can love, as the angels may,

With the breadth of heaven betwixt you;

Unless you can dream that his faith is fast,

Through behoving and unbehoving;

Unless you can die when the dream is past -

Oh, never call it loving!

Browning

Written by Bob McCue