by Ava May
Often she was stern. She was only about five-foot-five in height, but she was one of those people who projected such an aura of authority that they seemed larger than life. She was magnetic and whenever I was around her I found it incredibly difficult to take my eyes off her. So did many of her students.
I saw the way the hungry young men licked their lips at her in a wolfish manner, imagining themselves tainting her immaculate body with their slobbering kisses and clumsy fondling. It made me angry to think that they even considered themselves worthy of such a goddess. And yet Lucy handled them all with a delicate grace, smiling wryly at their ungainly attempts at flirtation, making it clear that they didn't stand a chance, and not only because she was their teacher.
I didn't worry about them so much because as far as I knew she had never expressed an interest in men. And that's something that tormented me even more. At least if she was straight then I could console myself with the fact that it was never going to happen but she was a lesbian just like me, and I was forced to gaze longingly at her, knowing that f we had met at another time in our lives things may have been different. I could have been the one sliding into bed with her at night. I could have been the one sitting opposite her at the dinner table, watching her lips press together as she ate, siding my foot up her slender calf, feeling the simmering attraction between us boil over as we give in to our lustful needs.
Some of the girls in her classes looked at her the same way I did. All fresh-faced with their perky breasts and innocent wide eyes. In a way I pitied them because we were a part of the same club, the lonely hearts that had had the misfortune of encountering the most beautiful, the most intoxicating woman in the world.
Chapter 2
You may be wondering why none of us stand any chance with Lucy, well, that's because on her finger sits a gold band. She's been married (happily, as far as I know) for about six years now. I've met her wife a few times, a pleasant lady named Wendy, and I was struck by how plain-looking she was. I know that sounds incredibly bitchy of me, and it's probably just my own jealousy talking, but she just seemed so... undeserving of Lucy. What had she done to win Lucy's heart? II asked Lucy that once and all she had said to me was that Wendy had been there for her when she needed her.
She made falling in love sound so simple but it's the hardest thing I've ever had to do. It's painful and torturous. Every day I feel like my heart is going to rip open and all the sadness is going to pour out and flood the world, sending it into years of darkness. Some nights I lay in bed and look out at the stars and feel the melancholy consume me. I stretch out across the empty sheets and close my eyes, imagining so hard that Lucy is in the same bed as me that I can almost feel my skin brush hers. But then I'm reminded that it's all make-believe and the illusion is dispelled. I sigh as I look around at the shadows that surround me and my body is wounded by the agonies of loneliness.
On those nights I curled up into a ball, wishing that I would disappear from existence because the pain of not being able to have what I wanted was just too much. Lucy plagued my thoughts. My mind raced with fantasies of us running away together. I thought endlessly off what it would be like to be scorched by a kiss from her, or even just to feel her warm embrace. Sometimes in class our hands would brush and I would feel a spark of electricity. Did she feel it too? Surely she must have... and there was often playfulness in her eyes. But she was married and she was too good of a woman to transgress against the promise that she made.
I didn't blame her either, because my love for her was of my own doing, and she wasn't malicious in any way. I imagine she was the type of woman that was used to people loving her, and she merely saw it as a natural way of life. There are people who love, and there are people who are loved. The sad thing is that most love in the world is unrequited, an impossibility dreamed by people who should know better and yet are powerless to struggle against the forces tearing them apart.
I have tried to forget Lucy and push her to the back of my mind, but it seems to be a futile endeavor. Lovers came and went. I tried to kindle a flame similar to the one that burned in my heart for Lucy, but they all just fizzled out. I even entered into a torrid affair with a student that led to a very disapproving lecture from Lucy. I almost lost my job because of it but Lucy stepped in to save me. Losing my job wasn't the worst part, it was the look on Lucy's face when she realized what I had done. I don't even know what possessed me to do it in the first place. I could see the way Mandy was looking at Lucy, the way she always went up to her after class and stood next to her, pushing her breasts together and letting her blonde hair fall over her face, always asking to see Lucy in her office. I burned inside and I knew that Mandy knew it. So I seduced her first, making sure that she wouldn't get into Lucy's bed. It was stupid and immature and the sex was angry, and it probably pushed me further away from Lucy but I was a wreck.
Sadly it only proved to me how empty and hopeless my life was. I tried not to compare everyone to Lucy but it was difficult because the feelings were raw inside me, and I didn't want to enter into a relationship where I felt like I was deceiving the other woman. I always felt strongly that the person you are with should be the person you want above all others, and with Lucy on the scene it was always going to be her, such was my misfortune.
So I decided to do my job to the best of my ability and hope that one day someone would come into my life who would rival my affection for Lucy, else I knew that I would be alone forever.
Chapter 3
“Right then, for next class I want a discussion about whether Odysseus is an admirable character or not. Think about the different cultural attitudes between then and now, think about everything he does in the book and decide whether you think his actions were heroic. Think about what being heroic means. I just want your opinions about it and I hope that it will provoke an interesting discussion. Cecilia will e-mail you some links to further reading about the character of Odysseus but I only want you to use them as jumping-off points. I want to hear your opinions next week because if you want to be writers then you're going to have to put forward your own arguments and your own feelings. The best writing is that which is borne from truth, so don't just regurgitate something you've read. I'm hoping to hear some good arguments so don't let me down!” Lucy said as she dismissed the class. Loud chatter sprang up as the students descended down the stairs and made their way out of the auditorium. I gathered up my notes and watched with narrowed eyes as the men checked out Lucy's ass. She stretched her limbs to wipe away the notes she had made on the whiteboard, and I wanted to fling myself at them and tell them to move along. How dare they ogle her like that, as though she were just a piece of meat for them to salivate over?
It sickened me. A few other students went up to her and I couldn't hear what they said but I was always there, watching. Eventually they all left and it was just her and me in the room. My favorite part of the day.
“What is it with you and The Odyssey anyway?” I asked as I helped her pack up her things on the desk. When I was near her I breathed in her sweet perfume and took a moment to let the scent linger around me, ad I felt like I had been transported from the lecture hall to an orchard where the sun was shining and I was standing in the middle of it, surrounded by happiness and sunshine.
“It's the most perfect book ever written. You know, when I studied it myself I read it about four or five times over the course of that year and I never grew tired of it. It was the first book where I really examined the text and swam among the words, almost like I was inside the book and I could look around and see all the different meanings and symbolism. It opened my eyes to what literature can be and aside from that it's just a great story. It has everything in it,” she said. She spoke with awe and reverence, and I loved seeing her like that because her eyes glowed with passion and she had the beauty of an ethereal being.
“It doesn't have giant robots,” I said. She narrowed her eyes at me and pressed her lips together.
“You are your giant rob
ots. One day you're going to have to show me one of these movies you rave about so I can understand what you're coming from because I just don't see the appeal.”
“I'll be more than happy to show you the wonders,” I said, loving the thought of us sitting on a couch together under a blanket, feeding each other popcorn, cuddling up as the movie flickers in the dark room, our bodies pressed together, the faint feeling of aroused sweat in the air, our hands moving closer together under the blanket, daring to go to forbidden places and then we'd look at each other and it would all explode before my eyes.
“We'll have to pencil that in then. I have to admit I've never really been interested in the big Hollywood blockbusters. Perhaps it's something to do with my generation.” She spoke as though she was so much older than me and I suppose she was, but whenever I was with her and I never felt the age difference. She was simply Lucy, beautiful and perfect.
“A lot of them are mindless entertainment but some of them can be fun. Luckily you have me to guide you through the best and worst of them.”
“And I couldn't ask for a better guide,” she said, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing it slightly. Oh if she only knew how much anguish that simple gesture caused me she would surely withdraw her hand...and yet I would not want her to for even the slightest touch was worth all the torturous agony.
“These are the links that I'd like you to e-mail out to everybody,” she said, handing me a piece of paper, “and if you could just remind them in the e-mail that I'm expecting them to come up with some original thoughts that would be great. Did you get a chance to look over the notes for the next lecture?”
“Yeah, I'm almost done typing them up I just have a bit to finish off. What do you think about Odysseus, is he a hero or not?”
“Well, that would be spoiling the next lecture, wouldn't it?” she said, teasing me, always teasing me. I wondered if this was what it was like in her home, whether she teased Wendy in the same way and they talked about literature and movies in a flowing conversation that felt as though it could go anywhere and could never end.
“You're always so mean to me,” I teased back.
She let her mouth hang open, pretending to be offended. “I'm the nicest boss you'll ever have!”
Unfortunately I had no witty retort for she always caused a haze to descend upon my mind, making it cloudy and foggy so that I couldn't think straight. In some ways I wasn't sure whether she had ever actually seen the true me because I never felt completely relaxed around her. I smiled at her coyly and soon enough we were done packing up. My least favorite time of day, for this was when she went back to her office and I was left to work on the notes and other things until I would see her at the next class.
“You know,” I blurted out just as she was stepping out of the door, “if you're not doing anything tonight feel free to come round and watch one of those movies. I could use the company, it's sad to admit but I don't have much going on in my evenings anymore.”
Lucy smiled at me but then it fell from her face. “That's really sweet of you Cecilia but I have plans with Wendy tonight, maybe some other time?”
“Yeah, sure, some other time sounds good,” I said, managing to keep my voice steady even though it felt like my heart had been ripped from its chest. I inhaled deeply as Lucy left the room. But there had been a strange expression on her face when she had mentioned her wife. Was I just imagining it or had her face really flickered? I didn't know, but it played on my mind for the rest of the day.
Chapter 4
I was in bed watching a movie later that night wishing that Lucy had come around to join me. I wondered what she and Wendy were doing, whether it was a marriage where the passion still burned or if it was like the ones you always saw in the movies, where they were only married out of habit. But I couldn't imagine that. I couldn't imagine anyone being married to Lucy and not enjoying the sweetness of her body night after night. I hated to torture myself of thoughts of the two of them but I couldn't help it. All I wanted was Lucy in my bed, laying beside me, her arms draped around my body as we lay naked under the covers. The moonlight would stream in and bathe our bodies in a silvery glow as we would look at each other, seeing the stars twinkle in each other’s eyes. I would caress her skin and she would look at me with the same awe that was in her eyes when she spoke about The Odyssey.
I would lean down and kiss her softly, enjoy the heat and the tenderness of the kiss. It would sweep through my body and seep down into my bones, gripping me with a fervent fever unlike anything I felt before. Our bodies would melt together as we succumbed to the sizzling desire boiling under our skin. I would look down and slowly pull away the sheets, watching it slip over her perfect, supple skin. I would see what lay beyond the small mole that always taunted me, and gaze upon the heaven that was her body. I would drown in it and bury myself in her lithe, slender curves. My mind was alive with all the thoughts and sensations. My eyes were closed as I gave myself to the moment. I let my hands run down the middle of my body, feeling the soft goosebumps that tingled upon my skin. Waves of arousal rippled through me, and then I bent and gasped as my hands reached down to the wetness in between my thighs and I started to stroke myself. I imagined that my hands were her hands and that she was there with me, breathing with me, her heart racing with mine as we gave each other hard, frantic kisses while the heat rose between us and the room was filled with the sounds of our gasps. I'd feel her feet next to my legs and her warm body would be there, pleasuring me, making love to me, her fingers would be dancing inside me creating the most wondrous symphony the world had ever heard and I would be hers until the end of time, for her to do with me as she wished. Our hair would splay out over the bed and I would kiss her full breasts and swirl my tongue around her hard nipples until they glistened in the moonlight, my hot breaths crashing over her skin as she stimulated me, using her fingers expertly to take me closer and closer to the sweet kaleidoscopic haze of orgasm.
My head twisted as I writhed in bed, the fantasies vibrant and vivid, luring myself into a belief that that it was all real and that she was with me and that my paradise had been realized. I kicked out at the sheets and they fell away. My naked body was vulnerable to the air and my hand was locked in between my legs, getting closer and closer, and she was there in my mind, whispering naughty things in my ear, her wet mouth so close to mine. I could taste her breath and I was consumed by her scent and every time she touched me something exploded within and she was...oh...right there...oh...there's my sweet spot...OH GOD I love her so fucking much...
My breaths slowed and I pulled my fingers out of me. The image of her faded from my mind. The burst of color was gone and I was back in the darkness. My eyes opened to see the wan moon staring at me, pitying me in my state of loneliness as I wrapped the covers around me and curled into a tight ball, ignoring the movie as I tried to sleep.
Chapter 5
For some time I had been thinking about writing another novel as a way to deal with the feelings that were like a hurricane inside me but anytime I sat down to start typing I could never find the right words. I knew what I wanted to say but when the black letters appeared on the screen it never seemed quite right. So I ended up staring at a blank screen and then turned away in frustration. Perhaps it had just been so long since I had written fiction that I had lost whatever small shred of talent I had for it, in which case I had probably been vindicated in giving up on writing when I did, but it was annoying because it was the one method I thought for sure would work in excising my feelings for Lucy. At least then I could have pulled them out of my soul and thrust them on the page, and once the story had been written I would have been free.
That was the theory anyway.
What it meant was that I went to work feeling even more frustrated than usual. But when I arrived and went to Lucy's office for our normal meeting there was something different. I could feel it in the air as I walked down the hallway, but then I saw her and I couldn't believe my eyes, for on that day Lucy
looked like a real person.
Chapter 6
You may think that is an odd thing to say so let me explain. Lucy had always been like a goddess to me and I had never seen her look anything less than perfect. She always took pride in her appearance but not in a way that made her seem vain. She certainly didn't plaster herself with makeup, merely used it to accentuate her natural beauty, but whenever she was out in public she always wore nice clothes and looked professional and presentable, almost like a movie star, as though every appearance went through a committee to ensure that she looked nothing less than perfect. It was another reason why I envied Wendy, for she got to see Lucy behind closed doors. I knew that there must have been days where Lucy looked normal but I had never been privy to that, and I got the feeling that it was something saved for the special person in her life.
But on that day her hair was unkempt and she looked tired. There were bags under her eyes and her shoulders were hunched forward; a sharp contrast to the usually impressive stance she took.
“Are you okay?” I asked. She looked at me as though she had only half-heard me, like her mind was somewhere else, and smiled thinly. Her face was paler than usual and I became sick with worry.
“What's going on?” I asked.
“It's nothing,” she sighed, and quickly changed the subject to something more professional. We spoke about the class later for I didn't want to press if she didn't want to share what was going on with me, although I have to admit that it hurt because I thought that we were good friends, and I was there if she needed to confide in anything with me. But I didn't press her because that's not how Lucy worked. She only did what she wanted, and if she wanted to share things with me then she would do so in her own time. There wasn't anything I could do to change that.
