Passing the Torch Ch. 04

Tim chuckled. "Oh, really? She's one of my favorite subjects. What were you saying?"

He looked suggestively at Vanessa. She instead turned to Joel, hoping he would pick up the thread and say something indicative about Bella. But he seemed embarrassed about the situation, and after a moment of awkward silence he swam away towards Carl and Will, who were chatting at the other end of the pool.

"Bella would have to show very clearly what she wants if you want something to happen," Vanessa said, following Joel with her eyes.

Tim scratched his head. "Yeah, well... That's going to be a problem. I know she kinda likes it when the guy takes the initiative."

"Like Ben did," Vanessa said and grinned at him.

Tim nodded and appeared to be recalling some of the recent events.

"Is that how it was for you?" he asked. "You know—back when you used to be with other men."

Vanessa cocked her brow at him. That was very forward, coming from Tim. She didn't quite know what to say. Her days of seducing other men were a long time ago. But thinking back, she rarely had to be overt with her signals. The only time she remembered having some struggles was the first time she decided to live out an old fantasy of being picked up by a stranger in a bar. It was likely a lame fantasy for most women, but to someone who got married before she was old enough to drink in a bar it seemed fascinating.

She pursued her fantasy when she was away with her girlfriends. One night she pretended she was tired and wanted a quiet night, but as soon as they left for a club, she put on a short skirt and a tight top—bright red to attract attention—and went to the bar around the corner.

She scanned the bar, and though it was mostly empty, there were a few men with potential. Acting according to her fantasy, she took a seat at the bar and did her best to look inviting, smiling back at anyone who caught her eye. She regularly arched her back and stretched, knowing that the seemingly innocent gesture would attract attention.

And several took the bait during the course of the evening, typically by offering to buy her a drink. She accepted, adding something along the lines that she had to warn them that alcohol usually made her flirtatious. And from there it snowballed.

Until they noticed the ring around her finger.

When the third suitor excused himself after not even finishing his drink, she was tempted to call it a night—if nothing else because she was getting tipsy. But she wasn't a quitter. Instead she called over the bartender, a stylish man maybe fifteen years her senior, and told him to just give her the tonic next time she ordered a GT. To her surprise, the bartender just nodded as if what she was asking for was completely ordinary. She was just about to clarify that he heard her correctly when a man took the seat next to her.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he said.

She looked him over and decided he was at least decent looking. "Of course. A gin and tonic please."

The bartender winked at her when he handed her the drink, and she gave him a faint smile before turning to the man beside her. When she raised her glass, his eyes fell on her ring. He rolled his eyes. Instead of meeting her glass, he downed his drink and turned on the spot, muttering something about waste of time and money.

Vanessa shook her head in disbelief and reached for her phone in her purse. It was time to text Ben and admit defeat. But before she sent the text, the bartender leaned in from across the counter as she typed.

"I've had this bar for more than ten years," he said. "On slow nights like this, I entertain myself by making up stories about the people who come in here."

Vanessa looked up and was greeted by a pair of deep brown eyes. Nice looking man, she thought.

"Really? And what did you come up with for me?"

"Well, when you first arrived, I thought maybe you were here for a date."

"I see, and what did you base that on?"

The bartender gave her a smile. An attractive smile, Bella noted.

"Well, I don't like to state the obvious, but you're not hiding your goods tonight, so I drew the conclusion you were trying to make an impression. And believe me, you do."

She smirked at him. "Aha. Go on."

He leaned back and picked up a glass to wipe it. His shirt was rolled up to bare his arms, and she could tell he was a man who took care of himself.

"But then you took a seat at the bar," he continued. "Most people who meet here for a date go for the booths in the back to get some privacy, and you didn't even check to see if someone was waiting for you there. And when I saw the ring on your finger, I figured maybe you were waiting for your husband. Couples are more willing to socialize when they go out and often end up at the bar."

"And do you still think I'm waiting for my husband?"

The bartender shook his head. "You only just now reached for your phone. No one waits idly for their spouse this long without checking what the delay is. So, no. I don't think you're waiting for your husband either."

Vanessa stirred the ice in her tonic with her straw. "So why do you think I'm here?"

"Well, what do I win if I guess correctly?"

"Oh, I didn't realize we're playing for prizes. What do I win if you're wrong?"

The bartender chuckled. "I don't know. All the tonic you can drink? I can even add some gin to it."

"You think I'm here for the drinks?"

He looked her over, briefly lingering at her inviting cleavage. "No, I'm pretty sure you're not."

"Tell you what," she said. "How about this. If your guess is right, you get the satisfaction of proving to me you're right. And if you guess incorrectly, I get to prove you're wrong."

The bartender gave her a skeptical look, as if expecting a trap. But he shrugged. It wasn't like he had anything to lose.

"Fair enough," he said. "But you can't be offended if I'm wrong. Or right for that matter."

"I'm not easily offended," Vanessa assured him.

He looked her over in silence, as if judging the situation one last time.

"OK, here goes. I think you're came specifically not looking for your husband. I'm guessing you're in town without him, maybe for a conference or a holiday with some friends, and you decided to do something just for you. Treat yourself, so to speak. And you came to this bar looking for excitement."

"Excitement? That's a bit vague. You can do better than that, I hope."

"Fair enough," the bartender said, and looked like he was bracing himself. "You want to find someone to have sex with for the night. Now, that would have been a lot easier if you took off your ring. And yet you didn't, even though it obviously scared off several prospects. Which shows to me that you're not here trying to forget you're married. You don't want to pretend you're someone else. Quite the opposite, you want both yourself and the guy to be constantly reminded that you're a married woman looking to spend the night with a stranger. I'm guessing that's because you don't want to forget about it tomorrow either. You want to be reminded of your secret adventure when you look at the ring back home with your husband."

When the bartender stopped speaking, Vanessa noticed in the silence that her breath was a lot heavier now.

"So, how did I do?" he asked, cocking his brow.

"Quite impressive," Vanessa admitted. "But you should have stopped while you were ahead."

The bartender didn't look convinced. "Oh, so I'm wrong?"

"Close, but no cigar."

"Alright. I guess you'll have to prove me wrong then."

"Sure, one moment."

She picked up her phone and continued typing the text message to her husband.

"Where you went wrong..." she began, pausing to press the send button. "It's the secret part. You see, I might be a bit of a slut, but I'm an honest slut."

She handed the bartender her phone, showing him the message.

"Hi honey. It's slow here and it looked like there were no takers for a married woman. But the bartender is awkwardly flirting with me. He's kinda cute. I think I might fuck him later.

Love,

Your slut and wife."

The bartender smiled in awe at her and rang the bell. "Alright, everybody! Last call!"

They didn't say much as they waited for the other guests to leave, but the bartender kept glancing at her curiously, as if he expected her to back out at any moment. When he followed the last leaving guests to the door to lock up, she decided to make her intentions explicitly clear. In a matter of seconds, she pulled her top over her head, unclasped her bra, and pulled down the zipper of her skirt. Acting her part, she hadn't even bothered to put on underwear, and naked but for her high heels, she posed confidently with her hands on her hips. When the bartender turned back around, he stopped in his tracks. She adored doing shocking things like that and smiled slyly as he took her in.

"My apartment is upstairs," he said as he regained his composure. "I was going to invite you up. But I take it you have other plans."

Her heels against the floor echoed through the vacated bar as she approached him. Without a word, she sank to her knees in front of him. He stared wide-eyed down at her as she proceeded to unbuckle his pants and pulled out his cock. She purposely used her left hand so they both could see the ring around her finger as she pumped her fist over his cock. She watched with hungry eyes as it grew hard in her hand.

She'd come to realize that she adored the sight of a hard cock in front of her. They all looked different, but somehow always compelling. Yet, her fascination never led her to seek out pictures of random cocks. What compelled her was the notion that it was hard for her. That made it truly glorious to her eyes. She leaned in and licked the bartender's erection from the base to the tip.

Vanessa proceeded to use her eager hands and mouth to worship his cock. The bartender looked down at her with a mixture of lust and disbelief. She was tempted to finish him off with her mouth, but the fantasy she was pursuing involved more than that.

She stood, stepped over to the bar, and took a seat on one of the stools. She shamelessly spread her legs open, leaning back against the bar, and curled her finger to call him in. The bartender looked hungrily at her inviting cunt. He didn't miss a beat, and soon she had him thrusting inside her. The crude reality of what she was doing fueled her desire. There she was, a married woman getting fucked by the bartender right there in his bar.

"Mrs. Hamilton?" Tim said, snapping her out of her trip down memory lane.

Shit, she thought. There she went on daydreaming again. What was the question Tim asked?

Tim looked curiously at her. "Are you OK?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she said, glancing over to the other three. The episode with the bartender reminded her that flourishing as a slut wife required some bold initiative, not just on her own and Ben's behalf, but also from the guest star. Did any of those boys have it in them to push Bella's buttons the way Tim hoped for? Would they be able to pick up the signals from a married woman and encourage her to go further? Maybe someone should teach these boys the value of being proactive. And she knew who that someone had to be.

"I can't believe I'm about to do this," she muttered.

Tim gave her a confused look. "What?

"You'll owe me after this," she said.

"I already do," Tim said. "Whatever you want."

"Just follow my lead."

She took a few strokes over to the ladder and climbed out. As soon as she appeared from the water, all eyes fell on her body. With that returned the familiar voice inside her. She couldn't deny she enjoyed the thrill of thrill of being admired. Sure, she could have picked a more appropriate crowd to rekindle her exhibitionist side with, but hadn't she already ruined the facade? What she was about to do was just another small step, she told herself. It was time to use some active learning to nudge these boys in the right direction. It always worked better than lecturing. She stepped over to the edge of the pool and stood proud with her hands on her hips. She knew very well she had her class' attention.

"Do you think Bella would go further than just topless in front of your friends," she began and looked at Tim.

Tim stared wide-eyes at her. "Uhm, yeah. I guess so."

"You guess?"

He looked uncertain at first, but soon found his voice. "If she decides to show them her tits, I think they should encourage her to go further."

Vanessa nodded. "And how should they do that?"

Tim looked uncertain. "Uhm, maybe tell her that whatever she did, no one would spill the beans?"

"Well, that should already be understood, I hope," Vanessa said and glanced over at the other three. They gaped at her, but eventually nodded softly. "What else?"

None of them seemed to get what she was after. Apparently, they needed more hints.

"Surely you can't expect her to be the one taking all the steps herself. Maybe you have to help her along."

She looked at Tim, hoping he would get her drift and show his friends the way. But Joel beat him to it and climbed out of the pool, heaving himself up over the edge. He slowed down his steps as he approached, and she could see he was increasingly uncertain he was reading her right. She smiled warmly at him, pleased to see he was catching on.

"Go on," she said, her voice soothing.

Joel licked his lips nervously as he knelt beside her. He looked up for a final reassurance, and when she nodded at him, he reached for her bathing suit and began rolling it down further over her hips. She couldn't tell if the slow motion he used to bare her was because he was nervous or if he understood the value of prolonging a breathtaking moment. Either way, her breath grew heavier with every inch of her he exposed. She gasped as she felt the open air caress her pussy, but she held her pose, standing proud before her class.

When Joel pulled her bathing suit to her feet, she steadied herself with a hand on his shoulder and stepped out of it. For a few seconds that felt like an exciting eternity she stood there naked, allowing them to drink her in. She turned slowly towards Joel, rewarding him with a close-up view of her pussy. Trimmed neatly, her exciting details were available to his eyes.

She continued to turn and walked back to her recliner, knowing very well they all watched her swaying ass. She felt divine and slutty at the same time, an exciting mixture she knew from long ago.

"OK, I'm gonna read my book," she said over her shoulder. "Maybe one of you can get me a drink?"

She needed something to steady her nerves, but she also liked the idea of being waited on by her young admirers. Tim, who knew where she kept her drink cabinet, volunteered and disappeared inside without properly drying himself off. Apparently, he was eager to pay her back in any small way he could.

The others also decided it was time to stop playing in the pool and they resumed their dart game. Vanessa guessed this was in no small part because the throwing line happened to be right next to her, giving them an excuse for close-up admiration of their former teacher in all her naked glory. She tried to read her book, but it was impossible to focus. Instead she kept an eye on their game. It seemed they were all quite good. From what she understood of the game, the prime purpose was to get as the score add up to the highest number over three darts. Typically, they all went for the twenty, and the winner had to distinguish himself by hitting the rings that either doubled or tripled the numbers of the section. She couldn't help feeling like they once again were trying to impress her.

"Yes!" Will exclaimed when he won the first game. "How about a kiss for the winner."

On any other day, Vanessa would have taken it as an overstepping joke. But today she didn't interpret it as a joke at all. And he was hardly overstepping. She had just taught them to take initiative.

"That's cheating, don't you think?" she began. "You can't decide on the price when the game is over."

"But if we play another game?" Will added enthusiastically.

"I'm gonna go see why Tim is taking so long," she said, leaving the question and three pairs of hopeful eyes behind as she went inside. She'd been daring enough, she thought. She couldn't allow herself to start making out with them, even if a part of her relished the idea of being their price.

She found Tim in the kitchen. She could see her drink was ready and prepared on the counter, but Tim was busy with his phone.

"Who are you texting?" she asked.

He looked up and didn't hide the way he took in her nakedness as she approached.

"Bella," he said, putting down the phone on the counter. "And thank you so much for doing this."

"Did you tell her you tricked your teacher into stripping for you and your friends? She will definitely owe me after this."

Tim gave her a questioning stare. "Tricked?"

"Either way, I think maybe I've done my part now, don't you think? I'm pretty sure your friends got the message by now. Spirits are pretty high out there."

Tim nodded softly. "Thanks. And if you want me and the guys to leave, we certainly will. But..."

He paused to hand her the drink.

"But what?" she pressed.

"Well, aren't you curious to find out what could happen if we stay?"

Vanessa could tell he was struggling to not let his nervousness show. She too felt discomposed by this flipping of the classroom. She was usually the one nudging him in the right direction. In attempt to regain some upper hand, she patronizingly stroked his cheek with the back of her finger.

"That's very kind of you to care about my curiosity," she said. "But my days of experiments were a long time ago."

"Did I tell you Bella is taking psychology at college?"

"Maybe," Vanessa said, confused by the out-of-the-blue question. "Why?"

"Well, we were talking the other day about how much we owe you for all you've done for us over the summer. And I was saying we need to find a way to repay you. But she said that maybe you weren't completely selfless in the things you helped us achieve."

Vanessa gave him a curious look. In the absence of something to say she took a sip from her drink. Some sort of Mimosa, by the taste of it.

"Apparently there is something called projection in psychology. It's when you read in your own qualities in another person. And since you've told me to be honest with you..." He paused giving her a grin that somehow seemed wary and smug at the same time. "Is it possible you saw a bit of yourself in Bella and decided to live through her?"

Vanessa was stunned. Had she just been schooled by her student? She already felt exposed talking to Tim without a stitch of clothing, and now it felt like far more than her body was exposed to him.

"But I left those crazy days behind me a long time ago," she said, not denying he was right. She couldn't lie that hard

"Sure," Tim said, glancing over her naked body as if pointing out how hollow her protest was. "But if you decided to stop once, doesn't that mean you can also decide to start?"

"Oh, Tim. It's very flattering, but I can't. Not just out of the blue like this. I've told Ben I'm not doing those things anymore."

He scrolled through his phone. "Look, I know better than to try to push you, but if you're worried about your husband, I should tell you that I also kept some contact with him today."

He handed her his phone with a message from her husband, reading simply "Fuck her!"

She stared at the short message in silence, her head spinning.

"Can you get my phone?" she said eventually. She needed to talk to Ben herself. "It's next to my recliner."

Tim was very quick to wait on her, and she didn't manage to clear her spinning head by the time he returned. He handed her the phone, and she noticed she had a message from Ben. The one he had sent to her was more elaborate.