Note: All characters are 18 or older. This story is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real people or events is coincidence.
My company has a lot of contracts with the federal government, so they value bilingual employees. As part of my "professional development" I signed up for a part-time French language course last summer. I'd forgotten most of the French I learned in school, so I opted for the "beginner" level course. The class was held in an older building on a local university campus, and there was no air conditioning in the classroom. It was a hot, humid summer, and in the heat my attention tended to wander. The classroom had posters in French and English to help with vocabulary, and at first I tried to focus on those - but more and more I found my eyes wandering to the teacher.
Shannon was 30 or 31, 5'5" and maybe 130 lbs. She had curly blonde hair that darkened at the roots, and her smooth, pale skin began to tan as the summer went on. To cope with the heat, she nearly always wore a light sundress or a skirt and blouse - anything that would allow some airflow while still looking professional. Whenever she bent over her desk to look at something, I got an eyeful of her cleavage. Her breasts were nice and perky - I'd guess she wore a 34C - they jiggled enticingly when she got particularly emphatic with her gestures (being french, she was a hand-talker). The lighter fabrics also displayed the outline of her panties clinging to her smallish, round butt. She had a round face round, and the shape of her mouth showed her teeth a little too much. Being a little toothy was just about the only flaw in her appearance, and for the first time I could remember, I started to really enjoy learning french.
After weeks of stealing furtive glances as often as I could, and fantasizing about her whenever my mind wandered, there came a particularly humid day. She wore a blue sundress, and I could see the faint sheen of sweat across the top of her chest. I'd been pretty distracted all afternoon, and when the class ended I needed a few minutes to catch up on my notes. I had my head down as a I wrote, and so I didn't see Shannon quietly close and lock the door after the last student left. I finished writing, closed my book and started to pack up my things.
"Jimmy," said Shannon as she walked over to my desk, "I need to talk to you about something."
"Oh?"
"I've noticed you... looking at me during class in a way that I don't believe is very appropriate." Shit! I'd thought she might have caught me, but I was hoping that I'd gotten away with it. I stood and started to stammer out an apology, but she kept speaking: