“No romance needed. I’m talking coming home with your mascara down your face your panties in your purse and walking funny.” Susan sighed dramatically. “Maybe I’m living vicariously through you.”
“Then you need batteries too,” Miranda laughed. “I appreciate you wanting me to get laid, but I don’t know, who says I could even find someone.”
“I did not just hear that,” Susan looked genuinely offended. “You don’t think you’re attractive?”
“I’m okay, I guess, but you make it sound like I’m all that.”
“You are!” Susan shook her head. “Add lowering your self-esteem to Nick’s transgressions and reasons he needs a slow death. Miranda you are, as the kids say, hot as fuck.”
“Cut it out,” Miranda replied. “I’ll pay for the coffee; you can stop schmoozing.”
“Honey, you don’t have a line or wrinkle on your face. You could pass for ten years younger and I want to smack you for it.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“Just that long curly honey blonde hair screams sexy. Especially when you wear it down. Has a wild look to it,” she laughed, “Tim says you have porn star hair.”
“I always thought of it as big eighties hair.” Miranda joked.
“Tim grew up watching eighties porn, what can I say?”
“I’m glad your husband likes my hair, tell him for another coffee I’ll brush it in front of him.”
“Honestly? Tim told me him and his friends talk, and they all agree about how your wife always has that one absurdly hot friend, and he says hands down that’s you.”
“Do you trust Tim?” Miranda asked. “He seems to talk about me a lot.”
“I trust him completely and we’ve all known each other for years, he’s said this over time, he’s not obsessed with your big hair self. I’m telling you so you know guys think you’re hot.”
“Apparently my hair is.”
“And those dark smoldering eyes. You have bedroom eyes, Miranda. Even I can see that and when you get mad or intense they’re pretty sexy.”
“Should Tim trust you?”
“Stop it, you’re not a homewrecker, and we’re not inviting you for our next threesome.”
“Next…?”
“Kidding.” Susan put her empty coffee cup on the desk. “Of course, we’d invite you and your hair.” She rolled her eyes. “And those long legs and that goddamn infuriating rack of yours.”
“What’s wrong with my boobs?” Miranda looked down at the T-shirt she’d changed into once the students had left and she knew she’d be staying a few hours until they kicked her out at seven when they closed most of the building.
“That they’re big! Look at me!” Susan cupped her smallish breasts through her blouse. “I’d give anything to have half of those things.”
“Sorry, we get what we get.”
“And I’ve seen you around your house without a bra, the damn things don’t even sag!”
“They do a little,” Miranda told her, but with a slight smile. She’d always known her breasts were impressive and was proud of the fact that in her mid-forties she’d seen minimal effects of gravity. “They jiggle more than they used to.”
“Poor baby.” Susan playfully flipped her off. “How you suffer.”
“Ass does too,” Miranda griped. “Thighs are getting a little soft.”
“Nothing wrong with a little curve, and you’ve always had those. Nice hips too, and those legs are to die for.”
“I am getting worried.”
“We work out together, I’ve seen you in yoga pants and you still rock them. Guys don’t mind a little junk in the trunk, fun to spank.”
“Okay, this is getting awkward, I’ll give in and say my looks aren’t a problem.”
“Good, that saves me from talking about your blow job lips. I’ve had people ask if you use Botox.”
“I’m all natural,” Miranda gave her head a toss, sending her hair, which she’d let down, flying about her face. “But not good enough I guess, Nick was screwing…”
“That’s not on you, that’s him being a fucking dog!” Susan snapped. “You are beautiful, intelligent, make good money, and as we just discussed, you’re a brick shithouse.”
“A middle aged one.”
“The young guys love them some milfs.”
“If you say so.”
“Miranda, you don’t remember we found that poll the seniors had going around back in high school and you were voted the teacher they’d most like to fuck?”
“Ten years ago.”
“You don’t think the kids here think the same? You see us other teachers and professors? You’re still the hot one.”
“Whatever.”
“You’ve told me you’ve caught some boys looking.” She flashed a sly smile. “I remember a certain big breasted 80’s porn star look a like telling me it turned her on.”
Miranda looked away.
“Yeah, no denial there,” Susan clapped her hands. “One night when we were out with the girls you even said you thought about having one under your desk while you spread your legs and let them go down on you.”
“I didn’t!” Miranda argued, then grinned. “I said I wanted to sit on my desk with my feet on the arms of my chair while they did it.”
“I stand corrected.”
“Yeah, not proud of it, but I’ve thought about a few over the years. Especially since I started here. I feel better thinking about boys without teen at the end of their age.”
“We all do it. Show me a teacher, male or female, that’s taught older kids for years who says they have never run the student teacher fantasy through their head, and I’ll show you a liar.”
“When I was a student I always thought it was the guy teachers who were pervy, had a couple of them,” she scrunched her face up. “Dirty bastards, I even had one offer me an A instead of my B if I would suck him off right there on the spot.”
“Get that A?”
“Hell no,” Miranda exclaimed. “It’s not just pervy, its unethical. We’re teachers, these kids look up to us.”
“They look up at you when they’re going down in your fantasy.” Susan smirked.
“What happens in my head stays there.”
“Good answer, but I’ve been there. I’ve had some juniors and seniors here I wouldn’t mind bending over my desk for. Instead, those stupid giggly little tarts get all that good fucking and they don’t even appreciate it.”
“They don’t drain batteries, they drain balls.” Miranda nodded.