"Okay," Scott Anderson murmured as he confirmed the address on the mailbox against the handwritten note he held in his left hand. In his right was the English term paper, the deadline for which was just about an hour earlier. Twenty-eight minutes had passed since he asked—actually, he begged—Professor Wright's assistant to divulge the anal-retentive pompous ass's home address. And now here he was standing in front of Wright's beautiful home, prepared to grovel or do almost anything to avoid getting a zero on this assignment, which was a full fifty percent of his grade. Wright never accepted any late work, but Scott's college future depended on the professor making an exception.
He rushed up the walk to the front door, carrying the eight-page paper, which he had freshly printed just forty minutes before. Sure, he was given plenty of time to complete the assignment, and yes, he had procrastinated as he always did, and no, he probably didn't deserve an extension, even a thirty minute one. But he needed it. His parents would kill him, or even worse, stop sending him money. He took a deep breath and practiced his plea in his head.
'Professor Wright, I know you have a policy against accepting work after the deadline, but I really have a good excuse. Last night I got a call telling me that my father was in an accident...'
Fuck that sucks. He'll never buy that.
'...
um, I was rushed to the hospital because I had this case of... flesh eating bacteria and...'
That's just stupid. Stick with the truth and beg. Okay...
He took a deep breath and knocked quietly. He waited for thirty seconds and then knocked louder. There was no answer, no sound coming from inside the house. After another few seconds, Scott spotted the doorbell and pressed it once, then waited and pressed it twice and waited again. He closed his eyes while running his hands over his face, sweaty due in part to his worry, but mostly from the searing ninety-degree Florida heat. But still there was no answer. He rang the bell once more, stared down at the flagstone porch, and sighed in defeat.
Scott moved along the front of the house to a window and cupped his hand over the glass to peer inside. He looked around the living room and found it empty. He continued to the side of the house, being careful to avoid crumpling his work as his stress level continued to climb. As he rounded the corner, he heard the soft sounds of music coming from the backyard.
When he reached the fence, he saw a woman sunbathing near the pool in a large cushioned lounge chair. She appeared to be in her early forties, and her eyes were closed. She wore a bright white bikini, which appeared to not nearly be up to the task of covering her full breasts. Her long, dark brown hair accented her attractive face. She was breathtaking, and for a moment Scott forgot all about the paper or Professor Wright or college or his parents or any of it.
As he stood there staring, his young hormones burst into action. He was quickly and painfully reminded of how long it had been since he'd last had sex. That one-night stand romp after a night of drinking was amazing—well, at least what he could remember of it seemed like a good memory. And now, here he was with a month left before the end of the spring semester. He preferred not to do the math and figure out how many weeks—or even worse,
days
—it had been since someone else had participated in one of his orgasms.
Scott's eyes traveled from the woman's cleavage to her shapely hips and followed her toned legs down to her perfect ankles and, finally, to her tiny feet. He liked women's feet. Maybe not to the point of being a fetishist, but he was a big fan.
He stood there with his eyes wide open as the sweat pooled on his forehead. He was too preoccupied to notice when the perspiration slid down his face toward his chin. He finally felt it as it dangled there, threatening to jump. Almost in slow motion, he tilted his head down and watched the droplet as it careened toward his cover page. He reflexively tried to move the paper out of the way, but he was too late. The large drop splashed on the cover page, smudging the title and most of his last name.
"Fuck," he said as he proceeded to shake the paper dry.
The woman's eyes shot open as she discovered the source of the expletive.
Scott looked up to her with an apologetic smile. "I... I'm sorry to bother you, but I was, uh..." His gaze once again became lost in her cleavage, and he tore his eyes away.
She sat up in her chair and gave him a curious smile. "Are you looking for Ted?"
He looked back to her. "Yes, I'm looking for Professor Wright. I'm a student in his English class."
"Sorry, I'm afraid you just missed him."
Scott closed his eyes and sighed.
She stood and approached the fence with a cheery smile. Scott wore a frown even though now, with the woman standing, her breasts looked even more impressive. His eyes floated to them and then quickly returned to her face.
"I'm Ted's wife, Rebecca. He won't be back until later this evening."
"Nice to meet you. My name is Scott—Scott Anderson—and I was hoping to drop off this paper that's due today."
Rebecca gave him a disapproving stare. "Now, didn't you miss the deadline?"
He grimaced and then stammered, "My printer ran out of ink and I had to run to the library to print it. I... I... had to wait for a computer. That's why I was late. I'm so sorry, I—"
She continued on with her stone-like glare. "My husband doesn't allow any excuses. If you're late, you get no credit, if I'm not mistaken."
He sighed. "I know... I know that's his policy, but I was going to beg him. If I get an F on this paper, I'm going to fail the class... and if I fail this class, my parents are going to stop paying for college, and I—"
Rebecca shook her head with a frown as he stared up to her with sad, desperate eyes. Her expression shifted into a smile. "I'm kidding with you."
"Thank God." He took a deep breath and gave her a hopeful look.
"It'll be our little secret. I can slip the paper right in with his stack. He'll never know."
"You're saving my life. I don't know what to—"
"Just give it to me, and I'll take care of it."
Scott handed over the paper, and she took a quick glance. "Oh, the cover is smudged. That's going to cost you a letter grade. Ted can be sort of anal retentive about these kinds of things."
"I can deal with loosing a letter grade."
"Why should you, when we can easily print you a new page? You want to come in and use the computer?"
"I'd really appreciate it."
Rebecca smiled as she opened the gate for Scott. "Follow me."
She turned and his eyes instantly locked onto her shapely ass. He had seen firsthand Professor Wright flirting with some of the female students in class, and he shook his head in disbelief. He thought,
If I had a wife at home like this, I wouldn't be looking at any other women. I'd be running home during lunch to do all kinds of things to her.
She grabbed the sheer cover-up from the lounge chair, slipped it over her shoulders, and then led him into the house.
Inside, Scott was impressed with the décor of the upscale residence. Rebecca stopped in the gourmet kitchen and turned to him with a smile. "Can I get you something to drink?"
"No, thank you."
Rebecca headed toward the refrigerator, and Scott stared mesmerized at her legs as she walked gracefully away.
"Are you sure? I'm going to have some lemonade." She opened the refrigerator door and bent down to pull open the fruit drawer. His mouth shot open when her cover-up lifted up, exposing a gorgeous view of her perfect heart-shaped ass.
"Um, well..." Scott stammered as blood began heading to his groin. "It
is
hot. I could use a drink."
She pulled a lemon from the drawer, turned to him and smiled.
"Why don't you use the computer while I get the drinks?" She pointed to a doorway. "It's through there, in the den. You know what to do, right?"
"Thank you."
Scott headed toward the computer as Rebecca placed the lemon on the cutting board and pulled a knife from the drawer.
He sat down in the large leather chair and adjusted the uncomfortable bulge in his shorts. He gazed impressed at the mahogany desk and shelves lined with hundreds of books. Scott glanced at a picture on the desk of Ted and Rebecca in formalwear. Ted had a goofy look on his face, but she looked gorgeous.
He muttered to himself, "Wow."
Tearing his eyes from the photo, he fired up the computer. He typed and formatted his cover page in the word processor and clicked the print button. As the page slipped into the tray, Rebecca walked through the doorway carrying two glasses. She handed Scott his glass.
"Thank you," He took a quick sip and placed the glass on the desk. He turned and picked up his freshly-printed cover page. He glanced back to her shyly. "Do you have one of those staple remover things?"
"Here, I'll do it for you. I used to be an office manager, but I'm working on my real estate license now."
He smiled. "There's a lot of money to be made there."
"I hope so," she said as she took the pages from him.
He watched as she reassembled his document, catching a quick glance of her cleavage as her cover-up spread open near her neck.
When she was finished, she glanced around the cluttered desk until she located the professor's briefcase. Rebecca pulled it up to the desk, opened it, and looked inside to find a folder full of student papers.
"Here's the stack." She smiled. "I'll just slip it in the middle. He'll never even know."
They shared a grin. She moved to sit in the chair across from him and took a sip of her lemonade.
He took another drink and smiled. "This is delicious. Thank you. Oh, and I really appreciate you letting me use the computer and—"
"Don't mention it. Any student of Ted's is..." Her face contorted, and she qualified that thought with an angry edge to her voice. "Well not
any
student."
Scott gave her a curious stare.
She took a sip. "He's been known to get a little too close to some of his female students. The pretty ones mostly."
"Huh," Scott muttered while wearing a guilty look. She eyed him curiously as he took another big sip of lemonade.
"Is he tough on you in class?"
"Well, not really. I mean he seems to single me out and ridicule me for no real reason, but maybe he's just trying to get me to do my best work."
"No, he's an ass," she said, casually.
He looked at her, shocked.
Rebecca asked, "Have you noticed anyone in particular that he's been giving any extra special attention to in your class?" She moved to the edge of her seat.
"Well, um, no, not that... uh..."
"Scott, come on. You can tell me. You do kind of owe me one. You should tell me the truth."
"No, I mean there's nothing to tell, really. Sure he's a little nicer to the attractive girls, but I wouldn't say that, uh, anyone..." He began to stammer as Rebecca gave him a tired look. "Okay, maybe Brittany or, possibly, there's this girl named Ashley. He seems to treat them both a little differently...sort of."
