Andrea

The plot's the thing. Some sex, of course, but I am more interested in the story to be told. As usual this is work from my imagination and any resemblance to actual people is purely coincidental.

*****

Andrea

Andrea and Peter had been good friends from when they met at a Saturday portrait class at the local community college, shortly after Andrea started teaching.

Andrea was always a little self-conscious about her face. To compensate she wore tight woolen sweaters and slim jeans to show off her best assets - her slightly over-sized, but very shapely breasts and her long slim legs. Even though she had no interest in getting a boyfriend she still appreciated the looks she received.

Andrea attracted Peter's attention. He initially chatted her up over the coffee break. Their mid-break chats became the norm. Andrea felt safe with a married guy who was about twenty years older than her. He was safe in her eyes. She easily handled his continuous attempts at flirting.

They had a long-term friendship over the years. She called Peter if she was wrestling with a problem, needed advice or knew that he might help another of her many female friends. When there were no classes contact was intermittent with long periods when they were never in touch. Peter did not attempt to push Andrea into some form of relationship. In his heart he knew he would never succeed. Yet when they got together again they were able to pick up immediately where they left off. They met for a dinner or a coffee in the Fall most years. She showed him the photos she had taken on her summer vacation. This year, some fifteen years after they first met, and two days after she had arrived home, was no exception.

After showing all the pictures of her recent trip to New Zealand, Andrea cautiously edged her way into describing an experience she had on the South Island. The narrative was slow to unfold but as she got started the words came out as a torrent.

When she finished she asked, "God, what am I going to do? I'm worried they will do something rash with the material." Andrea could feel the panic rising in her chest.

Peter was taken aback. She had never before shared with him such an intimate aspect of her life. In fact she always steered away from more personal matters. She compartmentalized most aspects of her life. Peter never challenged her in this regard. Andrea was behaving out of character. Peter knew it was serious.

"You've got me there. Have you thought of writing it down for the record...just in case. At least you will have clear documentation of the incident." His thirty years in Human Resources taught him the value of a well documented case.

The seriousness of Peter's voice sobered and calmed Andrea. Peter usually had an answer for everything. The twenty-year gap between their ages had in Andrea's mind imbued her friend with a wisdom she did not think she had.

"...in case of what?" Andrea knew the answer before it came.

"If they know where you live and work, you could be looking at blackmail or worse."

"But they're just kids." Andrea started, but Peter interrupted.

"They aren't kids. You said yourself you pegged the ages to around 19 to 20. They're adults and don't kid yourself, this kind of crap gets posted on line all the time. Have you thought what that could mean?" Peter's voice showed concern.

"I've thought of nothing else since I got that thumb drive. They mailed it to me at work. It was wrapped in a note from Josh. I haven't looked at it. I'm scared to. What if someone else had opened it?" The rising panic Andrea felt came through.

"The sooner you write this down the better. You'll need to get your statement witnessed to verify the date." Peter's voice was calm and reassuring but Andrea felt far from reassured.

"Andrea, you're the only person who knows what happened apart from the four in New Zealand. Could you do it? Write it out?"

Andrea was beside herself. How could she have been so foolish, so trusting?

"Try to put in as much detail as possible. I know it'll be difficult but you have to think of protecting yourself. Are you ok?" Andrea tried to shut out the idea of reliving her experience.

"No, I'm not ok?" Andrea' response was frosty. She was puzzled as to why Peter would ask such a question.

"I mean have you sought medical attention" Peter looked concerned.

"Medical attention? What do you mean? Uh, no. That's not necessary. Aside from some minor bruising, I'm just fine physically."

"Take pictures of any bruises? It's physical evidence although trying to prosecute across international boundaries is next to impossible."

"What do you mean?"

"If they are coming after you, you have to build a counter-defence. See a Doctor."

"You think I should see a doctor. For why. I told you I'm OK. There's nothing to see really."

"Andrea. Listen to me. Have yourself tested and looked over."

"Tested?" A thought hovered in the back of Andrea's mind.

"Andrea. STD's." She knew but had suppressed the idea. She sat in silence for a full minute before caving in to the suggestion.

"Yeah, ok" Andrea felt numb. She wanted Peter to tell her everything was going to be just fine but how could he? She felt a let down like child who discovers Dad isn't an invincible superhero. Peter was lowered from the lofty pedestal Andrea had always placed him in her mind. Yet somehow she felt closer to him because of his fallibility.

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My name is Andrea Hoblochuk. I am a teacher in my late 40's. This is a record of events on the evening of 4th July 2014 as best as I can remember them.

I am single and free to vacation in the long Summer holidays. I usually go to Europe touring and to visit distant family members, but this year I decided to visit New Zealand. I have heard so many stories of the grandeur of its South Island I decided to see it for myself; notwithstanding a warning from my friends it was the middle of winter. I booked on a guided tour that spent two weeks covering much of the South Island.

We were in Hokitiki in the middle of the first week on 4th July. All us Americans on the tour decided to go out to a Pub to celebrate the 4th July. I went along. I dressed up for the occasion. The rest of the crowd was friendly enough but I was finding their stories were becoming repetitious. I was a getting a bit bored. There was nothing particularly different or special about the evening. I am not really a drinker, but I did have a glass of New Zealand wine to celebrate the occasion.

I sat on the bench at the end of the table at the perimeter of the rest of the tour crowd. My mind wandered a bit. I became aware of the group of four younger people in their late teens at the next table, which was quite close. As my eye took in the somewhat seamy pub, one of the kids at the adjoining table asked me where we were from. At first I did not realize they were speaking to me, but when the question was repeated over the hubbub, I caught eye contact with an extreme ginger, really red, headed man as he asked again.

"Oh. Americans."

"We love Americans."

"I can tell by the amount of American TV programs you have," I joked back.

"Yea. They're ok. I've been to LA. What part you from?" This question came from a very large friend to the left of the first questioner.

"Maine. On the east coast."

"Don't know that."

There were four of them. Apart from the red head and big man, there was a large attractive Maori man with lip and forehead tattoo and a girl with long black hair and heavy makeup to look somewhat Goth. They were all drinking beer from bottles.

"So why do you come here in the middle of winter?" The red headed fellow asked.

"I'm a teacher and the only chance for vacations is in our summer - your winter. I've wanted to see New Zealand for a long time."

"What'dyr think of it?"

"Spectacular."

"Really. Its boring as shit." The Maori spoke with a deep slow voice.

"It really is a beautiful land. The mountains, the forest, the fjords, the pastures...all of it is great." The Maori shrugged.

The red head again, "What do you teach?"

"Art."

The girl jumped in, "Josh is a great artist. He's off to Art College next February."

I looked at Josh, the red headed guy, "What do you draw?"

"I sketch with charcoal or carbon pencils and paint with acrylics mainly."

Once more the girl jumped in, "He paints sheep, and cows, landscapes and fantabulous nudes. He's painted me a dozen times." She jumped up, and in a single movement pulled her sweater up to show us all her breasts.

"TMI, Julia." They all laughed a bit wildly.

Josh signaled the barman and another round of beers and a glass of wine for me arrived at the table.

"What's your name?"

I told them, "Andrea, but most people call me Andy."

"The big guy is Phil, tits over there is Jules for Julia and that is Mo," pointing to Maori, "and I'm Josh."

"So what do you guys do?"

Josh was clearly the spokesperson for the group. "I'm helping Phil at the plumbing firm where he is an apprentice before I go to college . Jules is a hairdresser and Mo works on a farm."

"Do you get time to paint when you are working?" I was curious.

"Sure. Sometimes I goof off and Phil covers for me, especially if Jules if free. She got a great body." I could see that.

"Hey, you're not so bad yourself." I must have blushed a bit, and could not hold my eyes on Josh as he said this to my face.

To cover my embarrassment I blurted, "For an Old Gal?"

Phil grunted, "I like mature."

In retrospect I should have slid out of the conversation at this point and returned to my tour group.

"So is this school you teach at a big, humungous place with like 5000 students?" I was pleased at the safer ground. "No. Actually its quite modest, just 1200 students. A Catholic co-ed school."

Phil looked up, "Uniforms? Short skirts?"

"Oh, you guys. You're all the same. Sure the girls roll up their waistbands - with plenty of leg on show, although some of the heavier girls would be better with long skirts. Us teachers are always trying to police the dress code - a losing battle, the boys were always pleased."

"Can you see their knickers?" Phil again.

"No Phil. We allow a bit of latitude but no pantie shows." I tried to put as much bored disdain into my voice as possible.

Another signal I missed to get out.

"I once had a crush on my Biology teacher. She was gorgeous. Great tits and arse. Any of your students have a crush on you?"

Not quite dangerous ground, but the two glasses of wine and a third full glass in front of me, allowed me to ignore the potentially difficult direction the conversation was going. "I think a few did have a crush on me when I was younger, but I coped just fine."

"Any direct approaches?"

"Direct? What do you mean?"

"Any student say, 'I'd like to fuck you'?"

I put on my most indignant voice, "No!"

"Oh, that's surprising. You're quite a TILF." Phil once more.

"TILF?"

"You work it out." I had no idea what he was talking about.

"Phil, do you member Moira? She was Jim's elder sister. She became a teacher in a Girls Catholic High School. I remember her laughing when she told me she had to sign a Moral Turpitude contract - can you imagine Moira signing that. What a joke. Her having no hanky-panky on the side, or she could be fired - what a joke. Andy do you have the same?"

"Something like that. Gotta keep up the moral tone at all times..."

"In that case, one more. Drink up Andy." Another round appeared at the table. In spite of my objections to the next round I found myself sipping the third glass, whilst a fourth awaited me. About the same time the tour crowd, who were mostly much older than me, said their goodnights and left. The tour Motel was just next door.

Jules was looking pensive. I caught her eye. She blurted out, "Andy, would you like to see Josh's work. I know he'd love to show you and maybe you can give him a critique." I registered my surprise that she knew the word 'critique". It was still only 9:30 and I was not tired.

"Why not?"

"We only live about 15 minutes away. We can deliver you back here."

"You all live together?"

"Yep, all except Mo, but he often stays with us." Mo just nodded. "We can have you back here within an hour."

"As long as you get me back by 11 it'll be fine."

"Drink up."

"No. No more wine thank you."

At this point you must realize the wine had dulled my good sense, but I was in full control of my faculties. I collected my purse and put on my coat.

We all piled into a truck that had a plumbing sign on the side. "Josh you're the smallest, and the two girls get on the back seat." It made sense. There was tight bench seat behind the two front seats. I was squeezed in the middle between Jules and Josh. There was not much room.

Josh put his arm around my shoulders. We set out on the road making a series of turns. We were then out of the town into the dark country night. I felt Josh's hand curl around and his hand start rubbing the side of my breast. I pushed his hand away. The second time I yanked it away and turned towards Jules. She was quite tipsy and rested head on my shoulder moving Josh's arm out of the way. As we turned onto a farm track, Jules moved her head towards me and started kissing my neck. "Stop that Jules." I said in my most authoritarian voice. She ignored me and ran her tongue along my jawline. I shuddered and leant forward, hunched up. The truck stopped.

"All out" Phil shouted and laughed. I realized I had no idea where we were and how to get back. Even with this uncertainty I did not feel particularly nervous. I had been around kids the age of my new friends all my working life and felt comfortable around them, in fact I enjoyed their company more than many so called adults.

As we entered the farmhouse, I was assailed by two immediate impressions, both of which took me by surprise. The house was very warm and it was very tidy. I took off my coat in the hall and hung it on a fine antique hall-stand. In spite of the heat, I decided to leave my sweater on since I would not be staying long and its removal may be interpreted as some sort of signal.

I also took off my zip-up boots to puzzled looks. My North American habits die hard. I had stockings on. As we entered the living room my attention was first drawn to a modern teak bookcase was filled with trophies. I also noticed that the rest of the furniture was fairly new in the Scandinavian style, and well kept.

"Wow. Who're all the winners?"

"All of us. It's our rugger teams' winning ways. We were regional champs."

"All three of us, plus twelve others of course, on the team and our masseuse Jules. I play fly half and Mo and Phil are fearsome forwards," Josh explained. I was getting the group dynamic of Josh always being the spokesman. "Do any sport?"

"I run - track and field. I guess athletics to you. I also manage the school track and field team. I reached the Olympic trials for the 800 metres."

"That's cool."

" Now I do ten-k, and have done two Boston marathons both under three-and a half hours."

"Wow. A serious runner. Good for you. But I am curious - you must be what 30, 35, do you find yourself slowing down?"

I quietly blessed him for the underestimation of my age, but did not correct him. "No, strangely I am even better on the longer distances, although I wouldn't want to do a 800 meter race again. That answer you?"

Phil piped in, "Thought you had runner's legs."

"Thank you, Phil," I paused, "I think." It raised a smile from everyone.

I was conscious of the heat. I asked for a drink of water. "Better not water. We are on a well and it tastes pretty rank. We have a New Zealand pop called Lemon and Paeroa. It's nice and sharp and sweet at the same time. Very New Zealand. Ok?"

"Sure."

"A Paeroa special, Phil. Phil's our Chef and kitchen master." Phil did as he was bidden, and scooted into the kitchen.

"I am curious, Josh, why do you keep the place so hot?'

"Revenge."

"Revenge?" I was trying to see how revenge came into the situation.

"Our landlord's a prick. He's always on our back, but the cost of heat is included in the rent. We try to use as much heating oil as we can to cost him the most. Get it."

"I got it." It was petty, but it did explain the sauna conditions in the house.

Phil came out from the kitchen with a large glass pitcher of what I took to be Paeroa. The pitcher was garnished with lemons and limes, and ice cubes floating in the liquid. I was suspicious. What was the "special" aspect of this drink. I knew enough about date rape drugs to be cautious.

"What else is in it?" I asked as innocently as possible.

"Just Paeroa and ice from filtered water, and the lemons and limes." I was still cautious.

"You try it first." I nodded to Josh.

"Sure." He went into the kitchen and came back with a glass, filled it from the pitcher and drank it in one large gulp.

"Great Phil, as usual." I took a large glass of Paeroa - it was lemony and sweet at the same time with a vaguely familiar after taste. But it was refreshing.

Jules played with what looked like an iPod and a radio arrangement. After some frustration she got some music going and then changed the playlist to dance music. The drink cooled me and at the same time gave me a nice glow. I had a second large glass. Jules yanked up Phil and they started dancing.

The way they danced was universal to young adults: I was familiar with it from chaperoning our school dances on a regular basis. The truth of this is that I enjoy dancing and the moves I pick up watching the kids I practice at home in front of a mirror. As a small child I wanted to be a dancer.

After a while Josh asked me to dance - I accepted. It was fun and innocent entertainment. I surprised them with the fluidity of my movements, my rhythm was spot-on and some of my moves were better than theirs.

"Wow, Andy aren't you the surprising fox. Nice moves." This from Phil.

Josh left me dancing on my own to go off somewhere - maybe a pee - and Mo got up and replaced him. Mo, the quiet one, moved exquisitely. We flowed together. Even Jules stopped to watch us. This went on for about ten minutes. I was beginning to sweat and I asked for something a bit slower, but got the answer "No way." Even Mo was now sweating.

I sat feeling very hot, and decided I could no longer avoid taking off my Cashmere sweater. I had a white sleeveless blouse under it. I pulled its hem out of the skirt waistband. The blouse was not tight, but the sweat made it cling to me and was transparent in places. I could see Josh and Phil's eyes light up, although there was nothing much on display.

"Andy."

"Yes Phil?'

"Show us how your students roll up their skirts."

"No way."

"Com'on. You got great legs show them off a bit." I wore my skirt length just above my knees. Then all three of the started chanting "legs, legs, legs..." I thought to myself where's the harm. I determined to be one of them for the evening. I often regretted not being able to participate in some of my students' fun.

Accordingly I started rolling up my skirt using some dance moves to make it sexier, until the hem was well up my thighs. Phil's eyes were wide open, Josh had a big grin, Jules seemed to be licking her lips constantly and Mo was just Mo showing nothing.

"Oh those stocking tops - your wearing thigh-highs, not pantyhose. Oh-my-God, delicious." Phil was in rapture. I then noticed that his baggy shorts were tented over a huge erection. He was hung, I could tell. It felt great to be able to arouse a 19 year old kid. We all danced some more.

I broke for a pee. In the exceptionally clean bathroom I realized my eyes were red, and my blouse showed a bit more than I thought. My pink bra was almost fully visible. Fortunately the bra was fairly substantial so my nipples were not to be seen. I returned to the sitting room and sat on the low sofa.