He entered through the single door on the right in the front of the building and into a cloakroom. From there he passed through another door into the classroom. His desk was on a raised platform to his left as he exited the cloakroom and to the left of it was another door.The classroom was set up with an open space across the full width of the room in front of his desk and then three rows of old-fashioned double desks, enough he calculated for thirty students. The center row extended only partway back however to leave room for a wood burning stove that would heat the room in cold weather. There was a single door in the back wall, which Bob opened to find a well-stocked woodshed. How cold was winter going to be, he thought?Bob then returned to the front of the room and checked behind the door to the left of his desk (or to the right if you were facing it.) He was surprised. What had been originally a cloakroom for the girls had been modified into a cozy office and restroom. There was. It all started with innocent friendship and conversations. I knew he was an interesting, intelligent guy. I figured, being the star that he was, he would be a fun guy to fool around with—someone to finally relieve my pent-up sexual tensions.What I thought would be a short fling was becoming more, that was obvious to me after our first “encounter”. It actually scared me a bit. It was almost too good. Now I had readily agreed to let him spend the night.I had previously come to the conclusion that Greg and I were headed for eventual divorce, but I was in no rush. We were still good friends and cared about each other. Now, I found myself thinking maybe it needed to be speeded up. Maybe there was more for me “out there”. I never thought a college senior, probably seven years younger than me, would affect me so deeply. I had to tread lightly. I did not want to frighten him off. I wanted him, but in what capacity, and for how long, was yet to be determined; not only in my mind, but, I.
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