It was late on a Friday night, about 11:00PM, and Tori was alone in her dorm drinking peach schnapps and angrily cursing aloud to herself about how upset she was with her freshman English class. "I speak English," Tori said to herself. "I should be acing that class," her poor use of logos and connecting a writing class with her so-called native language gave ample indication of why she was doing so poorly in Mr. Avery's class; she didn't pay attention in class, nor did she successfully complete her assignments to the best of her ability—instead, she focused on the party lifestyle associated with being in college. But in all honesty, Tori knew that her poor attention skills in class weren't solely caused by her party lifestyle. While she didn't listen to the content Mr. Avery was spewing, she just loved to uncritically listen to the sound of his voice.
She'd begun wearing tight yoga pants, which hugged her ass tightly and gave not-so-subtle clues as to what was kept underneath, to class every day because she had begun noticing how his eyes lighted up once she'd started. To the normal human eye, Mr. Avery's observations of Tori would be hard to suspect; but for someone who was looking, someone who felt similar feelings, Tori was able to pick up on his lustful stares at her. She noticed the way he'd look at her ass, then look away, then steal another glance at it. She noticed, also, the bulge that would form in his pants, as he'd lecture. He hid behind the podium, but she couldn't help but licking her lips in approval.
That Friday night, she kept on thinking of how badly she wanted to seduce him. She knew he'd never initiate a naughty exchange between them; he was far too professional for that. But if she was given the opportunity, she thought she could convince him the mutual benefits of them hooking up. Besides their mutual attraction, she could also get a better grade out of it, and he'd get the chance to form a lasting relationship with someone she was sure he thought was out of his league. Maybe she could stop by his office hours, she thought. But then she shook her head. She just wanted an irrefutable sign that he was willing to bend the rules as she was.
The clock read 11:34PM, and she took a break from her nervous pacing to take a look out the dorm window; and it was then that she noticed a car pulling into the adjacent empty parking lot, the lot for the English department building. She was curious, watching patiently for the door to open. "Who could it be?" she muttered. The door opened, and to her delight, Mr. Avery stepped out. He dropped what seemed like the butt of a cigarette at his feet and stopped it out; it seemed like a cigarette, but it was far too imperfectly wrapped. It was a marijuana joint. She watched as Mr. Avery shut the car door, locking it, and headed toward the door of the English department building, briefcase in hand. This was her chance, she thought; she better hurry!
She put on some running shoes quickly and threw on her coat, and let herself out of the door of her dorm quickly. She ran down the stairs and out the front entryway just in time to catch Mr. Avery sifting through his keys, trying to find the right one. She was going to approach him, but then froze. "Wait... I shouldn't just approach him on the sidewalk, scare him off, and give him reason to shoe me off, even if he's here at an odd time. He is the professor and all. He doesn't have to account for himself to me. I should wait until he gets inside so we'll be alone and he has less reason to shoe me off!"
So she waited, watching him admiringly as finally he found the right key and unlocked the door. To her delight, he didn't lock the door from within and instead went straight for the stairs. She gave him a 10 seconds' head start and then headed for the door, letting herself in, first looking around to make sure no one saw her enter.
The building was nearly pitch black. She was happy to see that he was already up the stairs when she entered and couldn't hear her come in. She walked up the stairs after him, keeping a close distance. On the second floor, she watched him as he entered the TA offices and headed for his cubicle. The TA offices were a room filled with cubicles, each unique to the TA who owned it. She had always admired Mr. Avery's cubicle, a quaint dark shade of green on its walls, furnished with a small loveseat and an additional chair that overlooked Mr. Avery's desk. A diploma frame on the wall read "Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing" to indicate Mr. Avery was already deep into his doctoral studies, unlike many of the other TAs who were only MA or MFA students. This also meant that he taught multiple classes, while many of the master's students and TAs only taught one. He taught three, in addition to his doctoral work. She admired Mr. Avery's vast abilities to keep his studies in order while also committing to providing quality instruction to three classes of 25 each.
She let herself into the TA offices and made her way toward Mr. Avery's cubicle. It was at the far end of the room. Once there, she slowly crept her way around toward the opening that led into the cubicle. It appeared that Mr. Avery was deep in thought, his head over a manuscript, examining it closely. He had no idea she had followed him in.
"Hi," Tori mouthed quietly and cutely, a smile spreading across her face.
Mr. Avery looked startle, adjusting his concentration from the manuscript on his desk to the entryway of his cubicle. "Tori?" He asked. "What in the world are you doing here? It's so late."
"I followed you in," she told him. "My dorm is the one next door and I saw you come in. I was wondering the same thing about you, actually, why you were here so late. You looked lonely, so I decided I'd come and try to keep you company." She smiled at him as she walked confidently into his office, taking off her coat.
Mr. Avery could hardly resist her low-cut blouse and tight yoga pants inside the privacy of his cubicle within an empty and dark building. "This is highly inappropriate, Tori, what with the hour and all. If you need to talk about something, maybe we should schedule an appointment for Monday morning."
"I could say the same thing about the joint I saw you discard when you got out of your car." She smiled, innocently.
"Shit." He said, caught. "What is it that you want?"
"To talk about my grade."
"Okay, I think you've earned that opportunity. What is it that you want to talk about concerning your grade?"
"I have a D and I'd like an A."
"Tori, at this point in the semester, that's not even mathematically feasible. You should have worked harder on your papers like I told you, sought help, and visited the writing center. Hell, I even told you I'd offer you extra credit."
"Mhm," she began, decisively. "That's what I'm here about. I'm here to talk about extra credit." She smiled, cutely.
"It's too late."
