David Ingram - Swinging Teachers

This time, she felt guilty, and swore off infidelity. When Dan arrived home the next day she could hardly look him in the eye. She stuck to it, too; until she saw Don again.

They were spending a few days with Don and his wife and it had been difficult to get both his wife and Dan out of the house at the same time, but they had managed. She remembered hauling down her panties and how Don had taken her on the couch without taking off his pants. It was a fabulous fuck. The second time they were both naked and they did it in Don’s bed.

Dan knotted his tie and looked at Vera sitting on the bed. “Aren’t you ready, yet?” he snapped.

“Yes, Dan, I’m ready,” she answered, and got to her feet.

Vera felt her swollen belly and smiled. It was a very good possibility that the baby was Don’s and not Dan’s. The time was about right when Don had fucked her. It would serve the surly bastard right.

“I’m ready,” she said again, still smiling.

Dan and Vera were almost late; the cocktail hour was almost over. Dan didn’t mind, though, because he didn’t drink much and he had told Vera to hold it to one drink because of her condition. She was sick of hearing about her condition.

Dan rubbernecked trying to locate Barney Thorn, the only friend he had made at Center. The room was crowded because Center High was a big school and Dan grumbled at the accommodations. “Cheap bastards. You’d think the biggest hotel in town would provide a bigger room than this,” he said.

“Maybe they didn’t know school teachers were such boozers,” Vera said with a snicker.

He started to say something, but just gave her a dirty look instead. “Hey, there’s Barney over there. Come on.”

“Is his wife with him?” Vera asked.

“Of course,” Dan snapped.

“I don’t think I like her.”

“Don’t be stupid, you hardly know her.”

Vera shrugged and followed him through the crowd. “She’s snooty, stuck on herself,” she said, not too loud.

Vera admitted to herself that she was probably jealous of Leslie Thorn’s beauty, maybe her cool demeanor, too, but she still thought she was stuck on herself. Actually, Leslie was shy, and rarely got to know anyone easily. She definitely wasn’t stuck-up like so many thought.

“Hi, Dan; hello Vera,” Barney said.

“Hi,” Vera said. She wasn’t that crazy about Barney, either. He had that good male look, but he was almost as square as Dan.

“Hello,” Leslie said.

“Hi,” Vera answered.

Dan and Barney chatted amiably, but the two women just stared into space.

Jesus, what a snob, Vera thought. But there was something different about her tonight. Vera studied the gorgeous ash blond, saw the glassy look in her eyes. Goddamn, she’s loaded, Vera thought.

“All the men want to do is talk shop, Leslie; let’s go and have a drink,” Vera said.

Leslie’s face lit up. “Smashing idea,” she said.

“Uh, I think you’ve had enough, love,” Barney said.

“Just one more,” Leslie said.

“Dan told me I could only have one, so she’s safe with me,” Vera said. She might be fun if she’s drunk, she thought.

“Be sure it’s just one,” Dan said.

They sifted through the crowd to the bar. “What’ll it be, ladies?” the bartender said.

“Anything, so long as it’s strong,” Leslie said. She turned to Vera. “I really don’t need any more, Vera, but I just feel the need to get plowed.”

Vera knew she liked her then. “I’ll take Scotch, and make mine strong, too.”

Vera held up her glass when the drinks arrived. “Here’s to fun,” she said. “God knows I need some.”

“I know exactly what you mean, Vera. Barney’s square, too.”

“God, Leslie, I feel like getting drunk; maybe doing something I shouldn’t.” Vera saw a wistful look in Leslie’s eyes.

“Me, too,” Leslie said, and added softly, almost inaudibly, “Some more.”

They had just started their second cocktail when their two squares came up and deftly lifted the drinks from their hands. “We said one,” Dan said, “It’s time to eat anyway.”

As it turned out, they didn’t get to sit together. The seating was carefully arranged to mix everyone up and Dan was very angry. He pouted through the whole meal.

Vera noticed that Leslie was swaying badly, and she had a dull, sleepy look. She would never last the evening. Vera wished she was as drunk; it would make it easier, but of course that could never happen with Dan watching her like a hawk.

After dinner, as was so often the case, the party started breaking up. People fell into little cliques or left for greener pastures. Dan was looking for Barney when he heard someone mention bridge. He loved bridge and drifted over.

“Did I hear someone mention bridge?” he said.

“Yes, do you play?” Winnie Lancaster said.

“I sure do.”

“Well, we thought if we could get a couple of tables we would go over to our place for a long session. Does Vera play?”

“No, but it would be too uncomfortable for her to sit so long, anyway. She can watch TV or nap or even go home. I’d like to play. Does Mac play?”

“Some,” Winnie said.

They ended up with six couples, but within an hour and a half there was one table of avid players, one table of half-hearted players, and one table of don’t-want-to-play-anymore players. Vera was at the last table.

“Shit, I don’t want to play, anymore,” Vera said, pushing back her chair. “I can’t play worth a damn. Never could.”

Sally Connors looked at her with agreement. “I think we’ll go home. I’m getting tired,” she said. Her husband nodded.

Mac Lancaster pushed back and stretched. “Yeah, I’m tired of playing, too. I’m not as avid about the game as Winnie. We could go in the front room and play some music, have a drink.”

“Yes,” Vera hissed, “only don’t say it so loud.”

The Connors went home and Mac and Vera moved to the front room. Vera sat on the couch while he put on a tape and made drinks. He brought her a short stubby glass filled with whiskey. She took a long drink.

“Ahhh, shit, I needed that,” Vera said. “Dan doesn’t like it with I drink; not while I’m pregnant, anyway. He doesn’t like it when I smoke, either. Got a cigarette? I’m dying for one.”

Mac came over and lit two cigarettes. “We won’t tell him.”

She was on her third drink and feeling wonderful when Marie Sanchez stuck her head in the door. “Had ‘nuff bridge,” she said. “Can we dance in here?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind the rug,” Mac said.

“Love the rug,” Marie said. “The Morriseys are going home. Already left, in fact.” She giggled. She was a small, dark woman with an exquisite body. She taught sophomore English and she was recently divorced. She slid easily into Tod Hermann’s arms. Tod’s wife was at the avid table. “The lights are sure bright in here,” she called over her shoulder.

“I can take a hint,” Mac said, and got to his feet. He snapped off all the lights except a small TV lamp, which gave off practically no light. The room was all but completely dark. When he returned to the couch he had two fresh drinks and after giving Vera one, he put his arm around her. She accepted his arm and leaned against him.

They sat like this sipping their drinks for several minutes before he kissed her. Her lips were soft, eager and opened on the second kiss to receive his tongue.

Goddamn, she thought, I’m so turned on. “I’m drunk, Mac,” she said.

“No, Vera, you’re beautiful,” Mac said.

“Noooo… I’m fat and awkward and ugly,”

“You’re beautiful,” he said again, and put his hand on her swollen belly. I love it the way you stick out.”