Chapter 4: A Frayed Knot? Afraid Not!

Gregg was sitting at an Internet café just down the street from the hospital. He often came here to get business done. It was one of the few escapes he allowed himself. Closing down the University webpage he had just finished with, he sat back and smiled with satisfaction. He was proud of what he had just done and he knew it'd go a long way toward rewarding his students for all their hard efforts.

Looking down at his teacup, he saw that he had drunk it to the dregs and considered ordering more. The tea was excellent — not too strong and sweetened with honey. It was one of the reasons he frequented the place so much — besides the four computers in the corner. He checked his watch and to his surprise it was already almost 6pm. He needed to get back to the campsite so he could shower, change, and take care of some last minute business.

"More tea Mr. Gregg? On house!"

Gregg glanced up to see the shop keeper, a slightly portly and balding gentleman holding a carafe. After debating whether her wanted more, Gregg waved the man away. 'That was strange. Omar never offers free tea.' Omar was a shrewd businessman. He knew just enough English to be able to serve his clientele, and he counted every penny and gave nothing away for free. His business attracted Westerners who needed to stay connected to the rest of the world. Being able to charge western-prices allowed him to make a considerable profit. His establishment was one of the few able to afford to provide such service. Not exactly a big business by American standards, but having four computers put him ahead of other local independent businessmen. The four computers were set on two tables placed together so that there were two on each side facing each other.

Putting these thoughts aside, Gregg leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and massaging his nose. His eyes were tired from staring so long into the computer's small monitor. Behind closed eyes, he could hear the sounds of the café. Patrons talked in languages he barely understood (he silently chastised himself for spending so much time learning only written languages that no one spoke anymore). He heard Omar ringing somebody up at the cash register. Closer to him, he heard the tippity-tap sounds of the other users on the three other computer keyboards.

"He's kind of cute. I see him here all the time ... how come I never noticed he's such a hottie? I wonder what kind of lover he is? I'll bet he's G-R-8!!"

Gregg opened his eyes and looked around to see who would be saying something like that out loud. The only female patron in the place was sitting at the computer diagonal from him. She looked maybe fifteen or sixteen, much too young to be having such thoughts. 'Probably some diplomat's kid, ' Gregg thought. But, the voice couldn't be hers because she was intently typing away — she barely even glanced in his direction. Besides, the two men on the other computers didn't seem to have heard anything.

Scooting his chair back, Gregg stood and walked around the computers up to Omar to ask for the bathroom key. He didn't want to walk back to the dig on a full bladder. Omar pointed to the occupied sign on the bathroom door indicating that he had to wait.

Casually looking around, he saw the young girl's computer screen and saw that she was instant chatting with someone. He was too far away to see what she was typing, but he thought he could hear her voice again. "I'm going to try to get his picture so you can see." The girl lifted her hand up to the webcam attached to the top of the monitor, adjusted it a bit so it was pointed right at him, clicked her mouse, and then moved the camera back into position. Gregg was stunned. How could she be so brazen. 'Doesn't she realize she's talking loud enough for me to hear her?'

The girl typed a bit more and then turned her head just enough to peek over her shoulder. When she saw that Gregg was looking at her she said, "Oh my God! He's looking at me!" and turned quickly back to her monitor. But it wasn't what she said that had captured Gregg's attention. It was that she didn't say anything at all. He was sure she didn't move her lips.

The door to the bathroom opened and a man exited. He placed the key on the counter and Omar handed it back to Gregg. Frowning in thought, Gregg entered the lavatory to take care of his immediate concern. After he finished, he washed, returned the keys to Omar and sat back at his computer.

Closing all his files, he logged off his session. While he waited for the computer to end its log-off routine, he kept his eyes on the girl. Focusing in on her, he began hearing her voice in his head — and since he was staring at her this time, he was SURE her lips weren't moving. "He's back. Did you get the picture? Cute huh? L-O-L." Now Gregg knew for sure he was reading her mind. I mean who would say "LOL?" He had learned that abbreviation a year ago when a colleague had sent him a joke that he didn't get and had tagged it with LOL. That had to be explained to him too. Gregg couldn't believe it. He could actually hear her thoughts! He had been hearing her mind speaking what she had been typing! He focused in again to hear what she was writing to her friend, but quickly pulled back when he heard her descriptions of what she'd like to do to him alone in that bathroom! For someone so young, she had clearly seen too many steamy movies.

Gregg quickly packed up his things. He went up to the counter to pay for his computer time. While Omar rang him up, he took a mental stab, literally, at the man to the girl's left. He was also chatting online. Concentrating as hard as he could — much as if he were trying to hear someone whisper from ten feet away, Gregg found he could hear what the man was thinking. "Yeah babe, I'd fuck you until you scream! Oh yeah, you like big cocks? We'll I got a huge one. Eleven inches ... No I'm not married. Build? Let's just say I'm often mistaken for Keith Ledger." Gregg pulled his thoughts back and suppressed a laugh. The man in front of him couldn't be more than five and a half feet tall and easily over two hundred pounds, judging by the size of his gut.

Gregg settled up with Omar, and hitched his backpack over his shoulder. He tried once more to probe someone across the room, but he could barely make out the faintest of whispers in his head. He tried harder and his head started throbbing, like the beginning of a migrane.

"Mr. Gregg? Okay?" Omar asked in his broken English.

Gregg found that given a moment's rest, his head had stopped hurting. It was more like straining a muscle than anything else. Giving up, he turned back to Omar and replied, "Yeah. Thanks. Excellent as always, Omar." The man beamed at the compliment as Gregg headed out the door.

So much was happening so fast. Things were changing around him and about him and he couldn't keep up. Like any of the texts he'd translated over the years, this puzzle would work itself out. Right now he just needed some distance from it and some sleep. On his way out he tried reading one more patron, but it was useless — like trying to do one more pull-up when your arms are dead. Hitching his backpack higher on his shoulder, he headed back to the campsite.

Gregg arrived at the campsite to find all five of his students sitting around one of the pits, their feet dangling inside. They were apparently just shooting the breeze until he arrived. Nobody seemed all that concerned that they weren't working. Chad was laughing at one of his own jokes and everyone was smiling except for David, who seemed upset for some reason.

"Why isn't everybody working?" Gregg said with mock seriousness. Everyone tensed up for a moment until they saw the big smile on his face. It had everyone a little off balance. They weren't used to seeing their professor smiling, making jokes, or even having casual conversation for that matter.

"I don't know what Heather has told you yet, but I've decided we need a party." Everyone looked around at each other, except Heather who already knew that much. "You've all worked hard this semester and I haven't acknowledged that. So, tonight we're going to have a cookout ... someplace with a little less sand that this. Okay, go do what ever you need to do for the next couple of hours. We'll be heading out around 8pm. Oh, don't forget to pack your swimsuits."

He looked around and saw grins on his students' faces. Even David managed to cheer up a little. Nodding, he turned and headed to his camper. As quickly as he entered the campsite, he left, not even giving them a chance to ask how he was feeling. His students turned back to each other to discuss whether aliens had replaced their professor's brain with one that was more fun!

At 8pm the group gathered in front of the campers. They each had a backpack with bathing suits, towels, etc. Heather had divided up the supplied so that everyone had some share to carry. When Gregg entered the campsite, Brian was pretending to drink out of the unopened bottle of tequila Heather had purchased.

Gregg flagged down a pair of taxis and gave them directions to the best of his abilities. Once everyone was loaded up, they zoomed away toward the foreign quarter, where many of the western businessmen and diplomats tended to live. They arrived at their destination faster than they would have expected, all tense from their white-knuckle dash through traffic. It seemed that for the local taxi drivers, traffic signals, speed limits, road stripes, and even pedestrians were simply a nuisance that could be ignored.

"Where are we?" Heather asked, exiting the taxi and looking around at the posh houses.

"You'll see. This came as a last-minutes surprise, but it's better than hanging around the campsite."

Gregg paid the taxi drivers, giving them a nice tip for their speed and for not killing them in any one of a dozen nearly avoided crashes. Gregg pressed the call button on the squawk box next to the closed gate. "Yes?" a heavily distorted female voice said.

"It's Gregg. We're here."

The box made an unintelligible sound and then the heavy gate creaked open on rollers. They started up the drive way and it shut behind them. It was an expensive looking piece of property, even by American standards.

Arriving at the front door, Gregg rang the bell. He had barely taken his finger away when the door opened and a lithe young woman with a brown pony-tail opened it up. She ran out, throwing her arms around Gregg's neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "You're here!!"

Everyone looked questioningly at their professor except Heather, who looked a little worried. "Everyone, this is Emily. She took care of me at the hospital and generously volunteered her house for our party." Clearly the guys liked what they saw: an attractive girl who looked about their age wearing jean-shorts cut off just below her well-formed and shapely ass and a low-cut tank-top that showed plenty of skin.

Chad looked at her questioningly, "Aren't you a little young to be a brain surgeon? I mean, how can you afford something like this?"

Emily smiled and replied, "No silly. It's not MY house — it's my father's. He works for an American import and export company that you've probably never heard of. Anyway, besides his salary, they own this house so that their agents can live comfortably while here. Besides, it impresses those guys he does business with. He's in Morocco now, so the house is ours! Come on in. I'll show you around and we can get this party started!" Everyone was impressed with the house, and the boys were glad there was another pretty female to look at.

"This is the living room, that's the kitchen, and out there is the pool. You can set up at the table next to the BBQ." She pointed things out, like the various pieces of art on the walls. Clearly, money was no object for this firm. "After I graduated high school last year, I decided to live here with Dad while I figured out what I wanted to do. I thought it'd be exciting living in a foreign and exotic land, but I quickly got bored. So, I started working at the hospital. I'd volunteered at my hometown hospital during my junior and senior years and the hospital here thought that was good enough to give me a job doing some basic work nursing. They're so short-handed that they'll take anybody with any medical experience!!"

With that, she ushered everyone to the patio. The weather was nice, so they didn't expect to be spending too much time inside. Out back, they were greeted with a view of what money could buy. In the middle of the patio was an in-ground pool that went from three-feet deep to five-feet deep. Clearly it was meant for lounging, and not swimming laps. On the far side were patio and deck chairs and tables. Closer to the patio door was the BBQ. Everyone set out their food and bottles while Emily went back inside to grab cooking utensils, place settings, glasses, and ice.

Gregg wasted no time at putting his students at ease. He opened the bottle of tequila and sniffed it wrinkling his nose. "You people actually drink this stuff?" Everyone laughed, still not used to seeing their professor acting like an actual human being. The guys were even more excited that they were about to be served alcohol.

Emily returned to the patio, her arms loaded with supplies. Seeing the bottle of Tequila, she ran back inside and returned with a shot glass for everyone - emblazoned with her father's company's logo. Gregg filled everyone's glass and picked up a knife. Pulling a lime out from one of the bags, he sliced it into wedges, and gave one to everyone. He licked the side of his hand and sprinkled some salt on it. Passing it around, he was glad to see everyone copy him. With a bright "Cheers!" everyone licked the salt on their hand, sucked down the shot, and shoved the lime into their mouths. Everyone grimaced at the taste except Heather who did her shot with a smile. Gregg barely managed to swallowed his shot and broke down coughing, almost on the verge of tossing the liquor back up. Without thinking, he put his hand on Heather's shoulder to keep from falling over while he was doubled over in a coughing fit. When he finally caught his breath, he was beet-red and his eyes were watering. "Oh God, that was terrible!" Everyone laughed. Gregg laughed too, once he caught his breath. Realizing he had his hand on his student's shoulder, he quickly pulled it off, embarrassed.

"You've never done this before? You looked like a pro for a minute ... until you actually did the shot, that is" Heather asked, cleaning the inside of the glass with her finger and licking it off, giving him a sly, sexy grin.

"I ... I ... cough ... I only read about it this afternoon. It seemed so simple on the website." This caused everybody to double-over in laughter. Apparently their professor hadn't grown super-cool overnight. Now that the ice was broken, the party was able to start in earnest. More shots were downed, but Gregg begged off. The boys cheered every time one of the girls did a shot, but while Emily looked to be getting a little tipsy, Heather was able to do shot after shot seemingly without being fazed.

Gregg started the BBQ and cooked the shishkabobs. He felt like he was in a Norman Rockwell painting. His "family" so to speak around the pool, he, the father at the grill. While he cooked, everyone else milled around talking, laughing, and drinking.

Heather felt more and more at ease being in Emily's house. Ever since that quick peck on the cheek when they arrived, Dr. Walters and Emily barely even spoke to each other. Emily was content to talk and flirt with the boys while Gregg conversed with his older student while they stood at the grill, fixing the food and putting the snacks into bowls. 'Maybe I was wrong about the two of them, ' she thought to herself. 'That or maybe my tolerance for Tequila isn't what it used to be!'

Everyone was having a good time. Even the sneer David had when arriving seemed to have vanished after he got a couple drinks into him. David was explaining in over-exaggerated detail to Emily and the rest how the Professor had shot him with a bolt of lightning and blew up the camera in his hand — gesturing wildly with his bandaged hand. The way he was talking, you'd think he was describing a battle between two superheroes. When the grilling was done, they all sat around the big table at the far end of the pool and enjoyed their feast.

After everyone had eaten their fill, Gregg stood and tapped his wine glass with a knife. He had switched to red wine after his first and only experience with hard liquor. "Can I have your attention everybody?" Everyone became quiet and shifted their seats to face him.

"First, let's say thank you to our generous and lovely host." Everyone clapped and raised their drinks, and there was even a wolf-whistle from Adam.

Heather was intrigued by Dr. Walter's apparent comfort speaking to the group. He wasn't stuttering or turning red. 'Maybe we should have gotten him drunk much sooner?'

When the clapping subsided he continued, "I'll keep this short so you can make use of her pool and swim and dance, and do whatever you crazy kids do these days!" Everyone laughed at his attempt to sound old. "So, a little business first. Part of my job here is to be a teacher and teachers are supposed to give grades. You'll be happy to know that this afternoon I submitted my final reviews and you all got A's. I also submitted detailed letters of all the work you did." The table erupted in wild applause with everyone clinking glasses or beer bottles.

"That brings me to my second point. Like I said earlier, you've all worked hard. I realize that I haven't given you the recognition you deserve, nor have I really given you a break. So..." With a dramatic pause, he pulled five envelopes out from his backpack by his feet and passed them out. "I'm letting you off early. Here's the pay you'd all have received if we had stayed the next two weeks. Plus an extra bonus. You're all free to do what you want — travel, go home, stay and dig up shards of clay ... whatever. I'm declaring the term over and I couldn't be prouder. What you have in those envelopes is what cash I could scrounge up — the rest is being direct-deposited in your bank accounts."

Everyone sat in stunned silence. Each student had $500 in cash and a receipt for $1,500 in direct deposit. It was easily a $1,000 more than they expected to have. There was also an additional $1,000 voucher to use at the airlines to fly them anywhere they wanted. Again everyone stood and cheered. Chad even came around and gave him a big hug, lifting him slightly off his feet. Even Heather hugged him in the excitement and kissed him on the lips. The guys whistled and Heather broke the kiss, turning very red. Brian, Chad and Adam were making kissy-faces. David sat expressionless, and Emily had a wry smile on her face, as if she knew something they didn't.

Gregg cleared his throat, settling everyone back down again. "Normally, that would be a breach of the teacher-student relationship, but as of now, none of you are my students! So, you're forgiven." He gave Heather a small wink. "Come on, let's have some fun!" Emily got up from the table and turned on the music. Everyone around the table raised a toast to each other again. Gregg sat down again and watched as the four guys all gathered around Emily and danced to the music that was playing.

"Thanks for covering. I guess I got caught up in the excitement," Heather said shyly after he took his seat.

"It was nothing. I meant every word."

Heather sat back in the corner of her chair and eyed him intently for a few long seconds. "Every word Professor?" she asked, with a deeply pondering gaze.

"Every word ... and it's not 'professor' anymore. Call me Gregg." Gregg responded, patting her on the hand that lay on the chair's armrest. On the second pat, she captured his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze, running her thumb over his fingers, keeping that same level stare into his eyes.

"Okay, I'll hold you to that — every word," she said somewhat mysteriously before standing up to refill her glass. Gregg could see she was considering something, but by the time he had thought to try his new mind-reading trick, her brain was back to other more mundane things — like her empty glass. She walked to the table with the drinks and her ass seemed to take on an even more seductive sway ... if that were possible.

And so for the next half hour or so, the party continued. Emily was like a perpetual motion machine, dancing with one boy, then the next, or all of them at once. Adam and Brian were a little too much hands-on, but she deftly deflected their advances. Despite their state of intoxication, they were sober enough not to upset their host in front of their teacher.

Chad unsuccessfully tried getting first the professor then Heather to join them. Gregg begged off saying he didn't dance and Heather simply and levelly responded, "Chad darling, if I got up there to dance with you, you'd melt into a puddle of your own desire." She punctuated this by seductively licking her lips. Chad had no quick comeback, but turned very red at the beginnings of a swelling in his Bermudas. He made a tactical retreat back to the other guys. When he was half-way back, she called to her vanquished foe, "Chad! Later. I promise you one dance later tonight." Chad beamed happily, and perhaps a bit nervously.

Gregg had a similar reaction to Heather's display and tried to nonchalantly cross his legs at his growing desire. Heather giggled at his uncomfortable situation, and thought to herself, 'Oh honey, it'd be a waste to let that disappear!' She was surprised that Gregg turned another deeper shade of pink.

At that point, Gregg looked up hoping to find an escape and was surprised that everyone was gone. He looked toward the door to see Emily coming back out. "I showed them to the basement where they are changing into their swimsuits. Heather, if you want I'll show you to my room? Gregg, are you going to change?"

"No ... I don't own a swimsuit," he said sheepishly.

Heather stood up and gave Gregg a kiss on the cheek, causing him to blush even more, if that were possible.

"What was that for?"

"For what you said."

"What did I say?"

"Oh, now it's a poor professor who doesn't even remember his own lectures," she said with a wink before following Emily inside and up the stairs. Gregg was left speechless. 'If I had known that women were such fascinating creatures, maybe I would have paid more attention all these years... '

Gregg looked down at the empty glass he'd been nursing all night. Shrugging, he decided that maybe it wouldn't hurt to have another. As he got up to refill his glass, he heard Emily telling Heather loud enough for him to hear, "I guess he'll just have to swim naked!" Their giggling faded as they went up the stairs.

Emily led Heather into her father's bedroom after a quick stop in the living room to gather Heather's backpack. She liked to sleep there when he was traveling because of the king-size bed and the TV. While Heather was pulling her bathing suit out of her bag, she noticed that Emily hadn't left yet. She was still there, watching her, sitting on the edge of the bed, chewing her bottom lip. The giggling girl that led her upstairs seemed to have been replaced by a more worried, pensive one. She looked past Emily and saw that the bedroom door was closed.

Heather was no stranger to being naked around other women, so didn't really think anything of it. 'Maybe she wants some girl-talk, or something. I don't imagine she has many friends her own age here. If she's uncomfortable, she'll leave.' Standing between the foot of the bed and the triple dresser, so she was facing herself in the large mirror, she began removing her clothing, one eye on herself, the other on Emily. Emily was watching the mirror, but her gaze was directed lower than eye-level. She appeared to be caught between watching the woman undress and wanting to say something.

Heather unbuttoned her blouse and threw it on the bed, then kicked off her sandals, unbuckled her belt and dropped her khaki shorts. Emily stared, her expression difficult to read — part lust, part awe, part jealousy. Heather was no stranger to those looks — often given by other women when she was at the gym. She pulled down her panties and kicked them to the side, now wearing only a bra. Emily's eyes didn't know whether to focus on the perfect pair of asscheeks facing her or the reflection of the near hairless pussymound in the mirror. The motion of Heather craning her arms behind her to unclasp her bra shifted Emily's attention up to witness the freeing of her large, perfectly formed mounds.

When the bra fell free of her arms, Emily gasped, "I slept with Gregg!" She seemed as surprised by the fact that she did it as by her saying it. Her hands clasped over her mouth as if to pull the words back and her eyes immediately welled up in tears. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I didn't know he was yours. There was just this ... I don't know ... I ... wasn't in control ... it just ... happened!"

Heather looked at the frightened young girl on the bed. Emily was holding her stomach as if her admission had caused her physical pain. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because he's yours ... I mean because you two ... I ... I can't explain it."

Heather was at a loss for words. She had considered the possibility that Emily and Gregg had had sex when she found the girl's panties under his pillow, but she had talked herself out of it this evening. Now she was faced with the reality that it actually had happened. She was mad, but didn't fully understand why. She and Gregg weren't dating or anything like that. As of an hour ago, he was still her professor.

Heather sat down next to the crying girl, and put her arm around her. Emily broke down in tears as she hugged the older woman tightly. "It's okay. Shhh, shhh. It's alright." It wasn't really, but she also knew it wasn't the girl's fault. It wasn't anybody's fault. Heather had no claim on him.

"I ... I really am sorry ... sniff" she whimpered, the worst of her crying over.

Still gently rocking the girl, Heather asked, "Why. Why are you sorry? You and I never even spoke until after today ... Besides, I had a feeling you two did something last night."

Emily still held her close, but she seemed suddenly tense. "How did you know?"

"I ... I found your panties under his pillow."

Emily buried her face deeper into the woman's shoulder and giggled. "So that's what he meant when he said he almost got caught..."

"I hadn't even realized that I liked him until ... until..." She paused. Until that moment, she hadn't said the words out loud. She liked him. Part of her wanted to say love, but that was too strong a word for someone she felt like she had really only met this morning ... even though they'd worked together for three months now.

Emily looked up, realizing that Heather's comforting words and rocking had stopped. Heather sat there in a daze, forgetting for the moment that her arms were entwined around the young girl. Emily looked at her eyes — her very green eyes, and pulled back, looking down over her body — her perfect body. Turning slightly to the left to better face her, Emily placed her left hand in the small of Heather's back. Her right wiped a tear from her cheek and then returned to palm the breast that was pressing into her tank-top. It felt firm and heavy and the nipple stood out straight and erect.

Heather seemed distantly aware of the girl and slightly turned her head. Impulsively, Emily leaned up and kissed her, right on the lips. Heather became fully aware in the middle of the awkward kiss and pulled her head back slowly. She had a look of shock on her face as she realized what had just happened.

Emily opened her eyes and saw the look on Heather's face. Thinking the woman was disgusted by what had just happened, she immediately stood up and started apologizing. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I don't know what's wrong with me!" she sobbed, turning her back on Heather, facing the mirror, her eyes darting back and forth between her own reflection and the naked woman sitting on the bed.

"No, honey, no. Don't be sorry. It was nice ... you just ... took me by surprise."

"I'm not a lesbian. I ... I've never kissed another girl like that!"

Heather felt immediate empathy for the girl. She remembered the first time she had kissed another woman. She had been working at the strip club for a few months by then and had grown confident in both her beauty and her comfort around the other women. She had grown close enough to a few of her fellow strippers that they would often slap each other's asses on stage or fondle each other's breasts to excite the men and get more money thrown at them.

It was just after a lap dance gone bad that she found herself being comforted by one of those women. The man had gotten overly grabby and she needed security's help getting him off her all while he yelled obscenities like "whore" and "bitch." She ran back to the dressing room where she broke down in tears on the shoulder of her friend Cathy. Cathy had been in the business for a number of years and was used to this sort of thing. As they stood naked breast to naked breast, Cathy whispered soothing words to her while she gently rubbed the head of the girl crying on her shoulder. When Heather was all cried out, she felt Cathy grab her face gently in both hands, brushing away her tears with her thumbs. She then lifted Heather's head so they were looking eye-to-eye. Their eyes closed and they kissed. At first demurely, but with increasing passion.