Saturday was not a happy day. Despite sleeping in until almost ten, Michaels came to groggy, drained, and bitter. She drank a couple of cups of black coffee while stirring up a big plate of scrambled eggs (one of the only things she knew how to cook). She ate while watching some inane program about teen entrepreneurs that had, for some awful reason, replaced the block of cartoons she used to watch as a kid on the local station. Michaels hadn't even finished her eggs before she became too annoyed by pretentious kids declaring how they were going to fix the world to watch another second. She turned off the TV as hard as a thumb on a rubber button allowed before dressing in her cleanest work suit and driving a few slow laps around the city in her old Volkswagen, chain smoking out the window until her mind felt numb enough to get on with the day.
Michaels pulled back into the Jacksonian, and cursed herself once for noticing first and foremost that Jason's hideous yellow bike was missing, then cursed herself again when she wondered if he was off visiting Lindsay Gregs.
This was the evening of Jason and Lindsday's precious photo show, the night that they practically had a date. The exhibit was probably nothing but nudes, and with free wine to boot! Despite what Jason thought, Michaels had been to such functions before, and the servers never carded anyone for refreshments. Both he and Lindsay would get sloppy on cheap red, stumble back to his little nerd hole on the 2nd floor, and...
Dr. Michaels gulped several deep breaths as she slipped back into into her apartment.
Well, that was Jason's business. Hadn't she herself stumbled towards private places to do private things after too much cheap red when she was his age? Of course she had, and more often than she cared to remember. He was a dumb little kid and it was allowed. Expected. Jason was nineteen, for Chrissakes, just what could really be expected of him?
Yet Dr. Michaels still spent most of Saturday night struggling not to summon him. The mental image of Jason pawing around with Lindsay only to hear those three thumps on his ceiling and have to leave Lindsay to come running to her was just too priceless.
But Michaels' better self managed to win out, and she left Jason alone to his private affairs, just as she expected him to leave her be. It was a wise decision, and the right one, and was only reached after drinking five cans of beer and passing out in bed wearing her work blouse, socks, and nothing else.
Whatever Jason and Lindsay did or didn't do Saturday night, Jason belonged to Dr. Michaels all Sunday afternoon. She began with a spanking for making her drink so much the night before, then laid atop him for while, nipping his face and tonguing his throat while he massaged her ass through her robe. A long foot rub soon ensued, during which Michaels bravely endured Jason's blathering about the photography show without smacking him. Though she was bored practically to tears by his talk of aperture and color saturation, she made a point of not discouraging his love for photography. She may refuse to go to any shows, but she still let Jason show her his work from time to time and put up with spiels like this even though she knew he knew she didn't care. It wasn't just a hobby, after all, but an academic endeavor (albeit one that paled in importance to her own writing and rhetoric instruction). The kid wanted to be a journalist, and had already succeeded in getting a couple of short articles published in the campus newspaper. He was passionate about photojournalism factoring into his future career, and if this was his goal as a student then, as a teacher, the least she could was humor him.
Still, Dr. Michaels had her limits, and eventually cut her foot rub short just to shut him up.
Monday classes were just around the corner, and Michaels hadn't gotten anything done on Saturday. Yet she wasn't willing to send the pet away yet, so Michaels soon found herself lying on her stomach in the middle of the living room with a couple of pillows tucked under her tummy, grading quizzes and answering emails on her laptop, all the while slipping at a plus-size can of beer and occasionally mewling with pleasure as the pet crouched behind her, tonguing her asshole with the belt cinched around his neck.
"Ma'am?" Jason asked, coming up for air after almost an hour. "I was wondering, why-"
Dr. Michaels reached backwards and smacked the boy's ear. "Shut up! Deeper! Stop being so timid! And when did I say you shouldn't be fingering me, too?"
Jason obeyed, burring his face between Michaels' cheeks and twisting his tongue hard into the sensitive orifice as two thick fingers slipped inside her sopping pussy and began a slow, deep pumping. Michaels groaned long and loud with satisfaction as she sank her face towards the carpet, yanking on the belt to smash Jason's face harder against her body. She emerged a couple of minutes later to find that her nose had pressed approximately 400 V's onto the end of a letter of recommendation she had been composing for Jason to a local magazine in hopes of securing him an internship. Michaels chuckled and began a slow deletion, reveling in the irony of just how highly all those V's spoke to Jason's loyalty and work ethic. As such, she felt a bit more generous towards him.
"What were you saying?" Michaels asked, reaching back to hook her fingers in Jason's hair and press him even deeper into her ass for a few seconds. "Go on, kiddo."
Michaels let go of Jason's head, and he emerged from behind her with a controlled but definite gasp. The good boy gained some composure, took a few gulps from the bottle of water she had bought for him, and gave her asshole a few solid licks before asking, "Why did you decide to become a teacher?"
Michaels sighed, and her hand tensed in anticipation of hitting him once more. Here he was again, probing at her when he thought her guard was down.
And yet...it was a perfectly fair question, the sort that any average student she wasn't fucking might ask, and which, as a teacher, she felt deserved an honest response.
Yet Michaels still surprised herself by just how honest she was ready to be almost the moment she opened her mouth.
"Well...I can't honestly say I ever wanted to teach. At all. Believe it or not, I wanted to be a translator, of all things. A French translator." Michales paused, waiting for some sign of judgment or derision from Jason. But the pet said nothing, using his tongue only to continue massaging her ass. And so, slowly, Michaels continued. "I was a Francophile as a teenager. The annoying kind, who mocked friends and family for not watching French movies, then mocked them further for watching Amelie with dubbing instead of subtitles."
"Delicatessen is better anyway," Jason offered between slurps.
Michaels reached back and gave him a hard knuckle to the scalp. "Don't you start with me!" She took a deep breath. "Anyway! Here's the real ironic part," she said, rolling her eyes at herself. "To this day, I can't speak French. I tried. I tried long and hard, putting in extra time with my professors, using CD and computer programs...And despite it all, I probably couldn't successfully order escargot in Paris. So, halfway through my bachelors, I dropped out of French courses. I started taking on a lot of English lit and writing. And, well, what can I say? It was a good fit. Chaucer and Shakespeare and Austen just naturally slid right into my comfort zone. It felt like the next best thing."
"The problem was," Michaels continued, "I had no idea what I was going to do with all this training in a language I already spoke. Being a successful literary translator right out the gate had always been the plan. So instead, when I got my degree I just followed my friends into grad school, hoping to figure it out along the way. Most of my classmates planned to go into teaching, and would wax poetic about how idealistic their lives as teachers were going to be...nothing but intellectual conversations over coffee and wine in mood-lit parlors and coffee shops. Modern day salons where they would mold young minds by day and hone the understanding of literature by evening."