Extra Credit Assignment

This is a new story. I hope you find it enjoyable. We'll see whether or not there's anything to continue, based on your thoughts.

Thanks for your time.

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"I'm so happy you're here with me!" Pamela smiled, holding my hand tight as we walked down the hall. It was dead quiet, as you'd expect at this time of night.

Classes in this high school had ended hours ago, and the thousand or more students that usually filled these halls were now at home doing algebra homework, or out socializing with each other. That left the classrooms empty, and available for use.

Night school. I never thought I'd be going to night school, but here I was, and it wasn't even my idea. It was Pam's.

Well, sort of. Truthfully, she had signed up for this course herself. She hadn't even tried to get me to come with her, but it seemed like a good way to get closer to her, so I offered to join her. We had only been on a few dates so far, and I had been taking it slow in an effort to make it seem like I wasn't just interested in her body, which was pretty spectacular, I might add.

Pam was originally a friend of a friend of a friend. I first saw her at a party, over a year ago, and she caught my eye. Unfortunately, her boyfriend caught me eyeing her, and made a scene. I backed off, and she put him on a leash.

I had mentally put Pam in the file marked 'Women I wish I had met under different circumstances', when fate stepped in.

We bumped into each other just a few weeks ago in a mall.

"Am I safe to be this close to you? Or is the gorilla lurking nearby?" I asked, looking around for large shapes.

"You're safe," she giggled, touching my arm. "The gorilla is history. He was too controlling, so I released him back into the jungle."

"Has he been replaced?" I smiled, suddenly feeling like I had a chance. My eyes struggled to stay on her eyes, those pretty, blue orbs that were sparkling at me as she spoke.

"He has not," she shook her head, clearly hoping I'd take the next step. I took it.

"Then perhaps we could have dinner some night?" I ventured.

"That depends," she giggled. "Does tonight count?"

That response surprised me a little. I was expecting a phone number at best, but she beat me to it by suggesting that we start immediately.

"Um, yes, I believe it does," I laughed. "How does 7 sound?"

"Perfect. Where should I meet you?" she asked, exerting her control.

A few minutes of discussion led us to settle on a little Italian place in the vicinity, and she gave me a peck on the cheek before she left. I watched her butt as she walked away, until I lost her in the crowd, then smiled at the prospect of a date with the lovely Pamela.

***

Seven o'clock found me sitting at a table, looking out the window of the restaurant. A car went past, and the flash of blonde behind the wheel that caught my eye led me to believe she was here. A moment later, it was confirmed, and she breezed in through the door.

"Hi, André," she smiled, as I stood to hug her.

If pressed to describe her attire, I suppose the phrase that would come to mind would be 'casual chic'. The casual came from a pair of snug-fitting jeans that hugged her shapely legs and ass, while the chic was provided by a satin blouse, royal blue in colour. All that blue made her eyes pop, and the lustre of her hair was complemented by the shiny nature of her top, which was open a few buttons down, showing the beginnings of her cleavage. Pam wasn't that big up top, but she also wasn't small, and it all formed a nice, sexy package that was quite attractive.

So, we sat and talked, after placing our orders for dinner. The first point of any importance was made by Pam.

"André, I need to tell you something, just to avoid any misunderstanding between us. Is that okay?" She phrased it as a question, but I had a feeling it was more of a prerequisite.

"Of course," I nodded, having little choice.

"I just don't want any preconceptions to get in the way. I mean, I really like you.... That's why I asked you out tonight, but that doesn't mean I'm going to be easy," she smiled. "I've done that in the past, and it hasn't always worked out the way I wanted. So, let's just get to know each other, and take it slow, okay? I'm tired of one-night-stands."

I masked my disappointment with an understanding nod, and a smile.

"I've been looking for more, too," I replied. "Slow is fine with me. We'll just let nature take its course."

Inside, I was resigning myself to an evening that wouldn't end with her legs over my shoulders while I thrashed her pussy to orgasm. Still, she didn't say 'no', just not tonight. I could be patient.

Relatively.

***

All of which led to us walking down this empty hallway. We approached a classroom, where quiet conversation wafted out into the silence, and read the paper sign on the door.

"Creative writing. This is it," Pam said, and led me in.

There were about ten other adults in the room, all of them here, like Pamela, because they were interested in the subject.

I was here because I was interested in Pam.

More specifically, I was interested in getting her naked, and into my bed, and this supposedly shared interest was a means to that end.

Don't give me that look. I'm not a total scumbag. I was interested in her for more than just her body. I would welcome a long-term relationship with her, but I had more immediate needs, and was just trying to expedite them being met. So, when she told me she couldn't go out on Wednesday nights because she was starting this course, I suggested that we could take it together. I figured it couldn't hurt my chances.

Pam had been thrilled, and immediately signed me up to join her, using her phone. For the rest of that night, it was all she could talk about. After that date, we had made out like two hormonally supercharged teenagers, necking and pawing at each other like there was no tomorrow. I even got a good handful of her perky breasts, but that's where the fun ended. She pushed away from me, and brought the festivities to a close.

"Oh, um, I think I should call it a night," she panted, smoothing her clothes in place. "Sorry I let things get out of hand. I'll see you on Wednesday." She gave me a final peck on the lips, and left the car, disappearing into her apartment building.

I was left with blue balls, an uncomfortable erection, and no one to ease my pain.

So, before I picked her up tonight, and we headed for the school, I took preemptive action, rubbing one out to relax myself. Now, sitting in the classroom, I looked around at our fellow students.

Pam and I were the youngest, with both of us in our late twenties. Everyone else here appeared to be in their forties or fifties at least. No teacher yet, though.

"So, is this a self-study course, or is there a teacher coming tonight?" I asked Pam, who grinned back at me.

"Yes, there's a teacher," she giggled. "I'm sure she'll be here any moment."

As if on cue, I heard high heels echoing in the empty hallway, getting closer by the second. I suppose it was natural that a woman be teaching this course, and that all but two of the students.... me included, with my questionable motivation.... were women.

Probably some old battle axe

, I thought,

but it doesn't really matter. I'm here to soften Pamela's defenses, so the course and teacher are of secondary importance.

Having said that, however, the suspense was killing me. The hallway seemed to grow longer, slowing her arrival, until at last, the teacher whisked in.

"I might have to give myself detention!" she laughed, gliding to a stop behind her desk. "I'm terribly sorry for being late. My name is Ms. Brody, but since we're all adults here, please call me Virginia." She finished introducing herself, and dropped the load of books from her arms onto the desk with a thud.

I tried to keep from gawking at her. It wasn't the first impression I was going for, but it was really difficult to keep my jaw from hitting the desktop.

Okay, I was wrong

, I thought.

No battle axe here. Yes, she's older.... Probably in her late thirties, at least.... but hardly the wrinkled, old bag my imagination had conjured up. No, this woman would have been conjured by another part of me, altogether.

Tall.

Red hair.

Green eyes.

Curves.

Curves.

Curves.

Having made her entrance, Virginia Brody was slipping out of her blazer, a navy blue and pinstripe model that matched the knee length skirt she wore. Under the blazer, a crisp, white blouse strained to contain her breasts, which were full, and round, and very hard to ignore.

I did my best to be subtle. The first reason was that leering at a strange woman's breasts was very bad manners.

The second reason was sitting next to me. Pam would probably not approve of my overt gaze any more than Virginia would.

We did the rounds of the classroom, introducing ourselves, but I really wasn't paying that much attention. I was too busy casting surreptitious glances at Virginia. She had captured my fascination.

With everyone acquainted, Virginia gave us a brief idea of what we could hope to learn here. She paced the front of the room as she spoke, drawing my eyes to her legs, which appeared to be every bit as delicious as her chest. Sexy, black heels adorned her feet, and her calves were quite muscular and firm. As my gaze wandered back upward, I met her own sparkling green eyes, watching me, watching her.

"Okay, so this isn't going to be an English class," she smiled, gesturing with pointed fingers. "By that, I mean we won't be concentrating on grammar or spelling, although those will be part of it. Grades don't really mean anything, here, since this is a general interest course. You can't really fail here, so just relax and have fun with it. I'll be reading your assignments, and using a star system to track your results and progress. The main focus here is CREATIVE writing, so we'll be focusing on storytelling and painting a picture through language."

"I think we have an advantage in today's day and age," she continued. "If you go back to the era of Bronte and her contemporaries, you can understand why their work sometimes seems so heavy and the language so cumbersome. They had to be. Their readers couldn't see what they saw, so they were forced to craft their stories that way."

"Now, however, we live in the age of video and massive entertainment. Every reader can picture what the author is describing, because they've probably seen something similar in a movie or on TV. In fact, the pendulum has swung in the other direction. Today, it's up to the author to weed out the distracting elements, and focus the reader on the important ones."

I was watching her stride back and forth, formulating her words and casting occasional glances at us. I'm sure you can guess what was going through my mind. Every step caused a tiny, almost imperceptible jiggle in her breasts, but it was big enough for me to notice.

Focus on the important bits, indeed,

I smiled to myself.

"So, since I don't know any of you, or how you write, I'd like to spend the rest of today's class with you writing me a little sample of your work," Virginia finished, turning to face the blackboard. She picked up a piece of chalk, and put a few words on the board. "The story itself is up to you, but you must include the following elements in it. I'd like them between 500 and 1000 words, which you should be able to manage before the end of today's time, but I'll give you another two days to get it ready. You can email it to me."

Okay. Perhaps I hadn't thought this one all the way through.

Sure, Pam, why don't I take the course with you? It'll be fun

. I somehow didn't even consider that I'd have to actually participate in the class, and now I stared at the words she had written in clean cursive on the black surface.

Dog, or other pet.

Sunset.

Friendship.

Family.

Oh sure, I can just come up with something. No problem.

Glancing at Pam, I could see that she was having no such trouble, and was busy madly typing on her laptop. My tablet sat, power off, on my desk, mocking me with its empty black screen.

You'd better be an incredible fuck

, I thought, casting another peek at Pam.

I didn't sign up for this shit only for the homework.

***

Week two of the course arrived, and I was no closer to scoring with Pam. We had been out a couple of times in the last week, but things never progressed beyond the make-out stage, and I was getting frustrated with trying not to get frustrated.

I had done my homework, and sent my story to Virginia on time, but I wasn't anticipating much success. I hadn't even thought about writing since high school, and even though it had been one of my favourite aspects of that time in school, I had plenty of rust to shake off.

Virginia was waiting for us when we arrived, saving herself from detention. She was looking every bit as good this week as last, sitting with her legs crossed. Her hair had a very sexy wave to it, causing the light to play across the varied angles and curls, producing a flaming effect of light and dark tones with brilliant highlights. She gave me a look and a wry smile when she saw us.

I was a little nervous when she gave us our grades, which were really more of opinions. The second part of our homework had been to read a particular story online, and observe how the author described the scene. That part had given me an idea of just how badly I had failed to do the same in my story.

"Okay class, I've had a look at all your stories," she smiled, scanning the room. "As first efforts go, they weren't too bad. Some had better plots than others, and some were much better at 'painting the picture', as I said last week. Now, for you two men," she laughed, "I kind of set you up to fail. All the four points I gave you are difficult to work with if you don't use your emotions, which is easier for us women. Still, you did okay."

"André," she smiled, turning to me, "you had a very interesting plot twist, but you didn't 'paint' as well as, say, Pamela. Actually, I think a better description for yours would be 'scribbling with crayons, and colouring outside the lines'."

The class giggled, and Pam ruffled my hair, as I hung my head in mock shame.

"It's okay. Everyone has to start somewhere," Virginia laughed. "We'll work on it."

My attitude was not improved by the fact that Pam got the best marks and the most praise from Virginia. She was positively smug with satisfaction.

"Teacher's pet!" I teased her. She responded by sticking out her tongue at me, and smiling happily.

***

"I have a present for you," Pam smiled, handing me a nicely wrapped box. "Don't open it right now. Let's go to dinner first, then you can open it."

Minutes later, we were parked, and walking into the restaurant, with the package tucked under my arm. Pam let me pull out her chair for her, and I got a little peek down her top as she sat. No bra tonight. Perhaps things were looking up, sex wise.

We placed our orders for dinner, and Pam bounced in her chair excitedly, eager for me to open the gift.

"Open it! Open it!" she giggled, just in case I was unfamiliar with the timeless process of gift receiving.

"It's not going to explode, is it?" I asked, pulling my hands away.

"No, silly. It's just something I saw, and immediately thought of you. Something you might be able to use," she smiled. "Trust me. Just open it."

Her enthusiasm was infectious, and a little unnerving. I suppose there was no way to know, except to open it, so I tore at the paper. A flash of brilliant orange and contrasting green seemed somehow very familiar, and when I pulled the tear wider, I saw the all too well known name on the box.

A childhood memory.

Crayola.

Pam's laughter echoed through the restaurant, and she put her hand to her mouth to muffle it slightly, but failed. She found her own joke very funny.

I chuckled politely, taking the shot with as much good humour as I could manage, at the moment. I didn't find it quite as funny as she did, but I had to admit, it was inventive.

"See?" she giggled, pointing at the box. "64 colours! It will help with your writing!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I nodded. "You're still the teacher's pet."

"Oh, poor baby," she cooed, reaching across to stroke my cheek. "I'm just kidding. Let me make it up to you?"

"Not necessary," I smiled. "It was a good joke."

"Really? You're sure?" she whispered. "I was really looking forward to apologizing. Tonight." A wink confirmed the conclusion my libido had leapt to.

"Um, well, uh.... If you have your heart set on it, it would be rude for me to stop you," I answered. "Would you like to start now?"

"I think you should eat first," she smiled. "You're going to need your energy."

***

"Ok-ay," I panted. "You.... are....for-giv-en." I flopped on my back, and wiped away the drops of sweat that had trickled into my eyes. When I turned to look at Pam, I saw her lovely, naked body, glistening with a similar sheen of perspiration. Her chest was heaving as she caught her breath, and she smiled.

"Well, I'd hate to think I apologized for nothing," she giggled, rolling on her side. She rubbed one foot along the other leg playfully. Her nipples were pointy, and quite excited.

"I gotta admit," I laughed, "the crayons were funny. If the joke hadn't been on me, I would have pissed myself."

"Well, after Virginia used those words to describe your writing, then I just stumbled across the crayons.... I just had to get them," Pam smiled. "Thanks for being a good sport."

"Thanks for finally sleeping with me," I replied.

I think if I had left it at that, everything might have been okay, but the blood that had left my brain for my cock hadn't yet returned. My mouth runneth over.

"I mean, that's the only reason I signed up for the course, anyway."

I was looking at the ceiling, still breathing heavily, and it took a few seconds for me to realize that she wasn't laughing. In fact, the room was deathly silent. I could feel her glare before I even turned my head.

"WHAT?!" she snapped.

Oh, shit. Is it too late to take that back?

I did finally turn to face her. Her fury was obvious, and I cringed, closing my eyes.

"You pig! You unbelievable, fucking pig! Here I thought you might be different, and actually, be someone I liked," she spat, "but you? You're despicable! You joined the class, just to get me into bed?! GET OUT! RIGHT NOW! GET OUT OF MY BED, AND OUT OF MY LIFE! AND GIMME MY FUCKING CRAYONS BACK! YOU DON'T DESERVE THEM, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"

All things considered, I think she let me off light.

***

The following Wednesday, I had a brainstorm of sorts. I would show Pam that I was worthy of a second chance. I would dispel the notion that I was solely interested in her for sex, by showing up at class even after we had already slept together.

Not my best plan, but it was all I had right now. I didn't even think she might not be happy to see me.

She wasn't.

I walked in, and she looked up from her desk. At first startled, then confused, she finally settled on angry as her emotion of choice. She stood, shooting daggers at me with her eyes, before speaking.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" she snarled. "We both know you got what you really wanted. You don't need to be here. Get lost."

I hadn't replied yet, when I heard a voice behind me. It was Virginia.

"Is there a problem?" she asked.

"Um, no," I said softly. "I'll just sit over here." Pam sat down, in her spot to the far side of the classroom, and I took an empty desk on the entrance side.

"Okay. How appropriate that we should have a little drama to start, as that's today's topic," Virginia laughed. Everyone else did too, except for Pam and myself.