Ursala Updike - Students At Play

"But you said-"

"I didn't say shit, Miss Adams. It was you who said you'd do anything. You just did. Thanks and goodbye."

"I could report-"

He leaned back in the chair, looked directly at her and smiled. "Don't bullshit me, you cocksucking cunt. Who the hell are you going to report to? I'm the president of the fucking board, remember? Now get your ass out of here and see if you can keep yourself out of trouble. Hell, you enjoyed it. Think of all the hard young cocks you can get your hands on if we do go coed!"

Shocked, stunned, dejected, Glendora Adams turned from Norton Concort's study and dejectedly walked through the long hall to the front door.

As she let herself out, she tried to think of any other means of achieving her goal. It wasn't, however, until she was halfway across the playing fields on her way back to her apartment when what she thought was a brilliant plan struck her. It was so clear, so obvious, she wondered why she hadn't thought of it before.

It took her the better part of two days to formulate the plan in her mind and another two before she was able to see Mrs. Concort at a distance to know what she looked like. But, by Saturday, Glendora was ready for her last desperate gamble.

She had correctly assumed that Brigette Concort would drive to Huntingford as she had the previous Saturday so, early that morning Glen had hidden herself in the bushes on the school side of the playing fields. With a powerful pair of binoculars, she had kept a close watch on Norton Concores house.

Just after nine o'clock she saw Brigette Concort skip down the front steps and run around to the garage. A moment later the car backed out and drove toward the-main highway.

Glen noted the make, model, and license plate number, then ran to the school's garage where she kept her own car. Within less than ten minutes she was on the highway, driving toward the small town of Huntingford.

Locating Brigette Concort proved to be no problem. Huntingford was a village kept alive mainly by tourists and populated by people who worked elsewhere. Its single street of shops carried only the necessities of life. More sophisticated shopping was done in any number of larger cities.

Glen parked her car on the main street just as Brigette Concort walked out of a small shop some thirty yards ahead of her. The board president's wife was hardly a representative of a stereotype in her position. She was young and slender, with long evenly muscled legs and a mischievous, kitten-like quality to her almost childish face.

As Glen looked at her, she couldn't help noticing the fact that Brigette Concort was not wearing a brassiere. Under her white blouse, her large breasts moved sensuously with each pace. Her husband, Glen thought, might have been shocked to know that his young wife was walking down the street of conservative, middle-class Huntingford with her large breasts and firm nipples bouncing about for all to see and appreciate. Glen herself felt an involuntary surge of sexual excitation as the watched the young woman walk along the sidewalk toward where she had parked her car. But the pushed it aside. She had to talk to Brigette Concort-had to explain to her and convince her of the evil of making Northrup Academy coeducational.

She snapped her ignition key off, opened the door of her car, and stepped onto the sidewalk just as Brigette Concort was about to pass.

"Mrs. Concort?" Glendora asked.

The young woman stopped. She looked very carefully at Glen as if actually appraising her for a long moment before she smiled a kittenish grin and nodded. "Yes?"

"I'm Glendora Adams. I teach history at the academy. I wonder… could I have a few words with you?"

Mrs. Concort seemed somehow annoyed. "I come here to get away from that goddamned funny farm," she said. "I don't want to talk about the academy."

"Please-" Glen begged. "It's really very important."

Again the beautifully sensuous young woman stared intently at Glen as if appraising her. Finally she shrugged, "All right," the said. "Let's have a cup of tea and talk about the fucking academy." Abruptly, she walked a few paces down the street and turned into a charming, cozy tea house.

They sat at a table by the front window, and over a few cups of tea, Glen tried to persuade Brigette Concort to talk to her husband-to convince him to vote to keep the school an all-girl institution. She used every argument she could think of to convince the beautiful young woman and she was sure she had succeeded, for Brigette seemed to be nodding in agreement to everything she said, even though she did not ask any questions or indeed even speak until Glen finished her impassioned plea and finally said, "Well, will you talk to him?"

Brigette sipped the last of her tea without taking her eyes off Glen. She replaced the cup in its saucer and with her usual kittenish look said, "I suppose you've already talked to him?"

"Yes," Glen admitted. "I saw him last week."

"And he refused?"

"He said it was a matter of economics."

"And I suppose he wanted his joint sucked as a matter of fucking economics, too?"

"Oh, come off it," Brigette said. "I know Norton. Believe me, I know the prick. That's all he ever thinks of. All he wants is a blow job. Do you know I've been married to that son of a bitch for three years and all he's ever wanted is head, head, head. Shit, I don't think he even knows what a pussy's for. Do you know something? It's so unfucking bad with that cock-suckee that I have to carry Willard with me all the time."

"Willard?" Glen was genuinely puzzled about the beautiful young woman's behavior.

Brigette Concort reached into the purse she had placed beside her chair, and without any trace of embarrassment, extracted a long cylindrical electrical vibrator. She placed the machine on the table between them. "I call it Willard," she said. "Frankly, I'm a pretty horny girl, Glendora, and frankly too, I don't much care for sucking cock all the time. At a place like Northrup, believe me I'd go off my noodle without Willard here. Don't tell me you've never used one of these gismos to get yourself a come?"

Glen shook her head.

Brigette stared at her again in her strange way which seemed so like a bold appraisal. This time, for the first time, Glen sensed something about the young woman which she had either ignored or refused to notice before.

"It must be tragic." She could almost feel her voice trembling.

"What?"

"I mean being married to a man like Norton Concort-a man so selfish-so inconsiderate."

"He's a prick."

"But never getting any real satisfaction except with-" She let her eyes fall to the table where the electrical machine lay, then raised them to see the pert thrust of Brigette's nipples against the silken fabric of her white blouse.

"Willard's okay," Brigette said. "Believe me he's better than nothing?"

"But," Glen was staring pointedly into Brigette's hazel eyes, "there are other ways of satisfaction… " She slid her hand across the table top so that her fingertips were barely touching those of her companion.

Brigette Concort narrowed her catlike eyes. Her full, little girl mouth formed into a pout, then widened to a sensual grin. "Shit," she said at length.

Glendora was suddenly frightened. Suddenly she felt she had overplayed herself, that Brigette had taken offense at her half overture and would betray what had, despite her numerous affairs with the students, been a secret. "Of course," she managed, "I didn't mean-"

Brigette's grin widened. "Bullshit," she said. She shrugged her shoulders. "Hell, I'm sort of flattered, if you want to know the truth. I've never made it with another woman before. I've been real normal all my life. You know, a couple of half-assed fucks in high school and college and then Norton came along. He balled me once or twice but then settled down to his cocksucking compulsion. Shit, I've been playing with myself so fucking long I'd be glad of anything."