I was terrified. Sitting alone in the hallway outside my classroom was creepy by itself; with half of the lights dimmed and the other classrooms closed and dark, I was beginning to feel like I was in a horror movie. One of those slasher ones where the dumb schoolgirl trips over nothing and gets cut to ribbons.
On top of that I had to stay behind so I could get told I was failing, a fact I was very much aware of. Even though I was twenty-one, I was in a lot of clubs. Usually they were for the younger students but they were my favorite part of the day. Many of them had after school activities so it wasn't unnatural for me to get home after seven o'clock. This often left me tired and unwilling to do schoolwork, so more often than not I skipped it.
It's not like I hated school. The classes were stimulating and I liked them. I hated the people, the other students, the staff.
Well...
Not all the staff. I loved Ms. Matthews. She was smart and had a sharp tongue for anyone who interrupted her in class. And she was physically attractive with her broad shoulders, hazel eyes, and long brown hair that she usually kept in two long plaits down her back. Her voice was a little deeper than the average woman's but it was far from baritone and it always made me kinda hot. I sat with my legs crossed in her class.
"Come on in, Alice," somebody called out, startling me to my feet. I realized after I stood up that it was only my teacher calling me into the classroom and my ears burned with embarrassment. I fixed my skirt around my hips as I went, pulling it down to cover my butt. I had large hips and a pretty noticeable rear-end. Coupled with my long red hair and pale freckled skin, I was constantly made the target of crude sexual jokes. Boys would sneak up to me and smack me on the ass before running off laughing at each other.
One year somebody had even started the rumor that I had slept with Ms. Matthews. I had made the mistake of doodling in class while I daydreamed. Somebody, probably that obnoxious bitch Macy, whooped with laughter and when I came to I saw that I had written my first name and my professor's last name together with hearts. I ripped the paper out as fast as I could but that was all it took. It took a whole year before other students stopped mentioning it.
They still giggled when they looked at me.
"Alice?" I snapped back to the present and realized I was just standing in the doorway, not moving. My professor Ms. Matthews was standing at the board, chalk in hand, writing out the lesson for tomorrow. She was looking at me curiously, probably wondering why I hadn't just come in and sat down. "Close the door," she said quietly. I grabbed the doorknob and pulled it closed behind me. I heard the lock click into place and I clutched my books close to my chest, approaching her large mahogany desk slowly. "I wanted to talk to you about your grades," she told me, cutting right to the chase, "Honestly I'm more than a little disappointed in you. You're so smart and your potential is overwhelming."
Her voice was smoother than melted chocolate and I heard a touch of Irish in it that made me press my thighs together tightly. Professor Matthews gestured for me to sit down. Tucking my skirt under me carefully, I bit my lip and sat down in the armchair across from her. She looked at me with concern and frowned. "Your grades are suffering, Alice," she said, glancing from me to her laptop and back, "You've been failing assignments, failing tests, and not bringing in your homework." I clutched my books tighter and nodded wordlessly.
Professor Matthews sighed. "Look, I can't help you if you don't want to help yourself. You're going to fail my class."
"Isn't there some extra credit I can do to make up for my missing work?" I asked timidly, lowering my books.
"I gave extra credit assignments," my professor replied sternly, "Nobody did any of them. Nobody. Honestly, I don't know why I bother if you guys won't even do the original assignment." She rubbed her temple with her fingertips and sat back in her seat with her eyes closed. I felt a pang of guilt; she was counting on me to set an example and I was being just as bad as everybody else. I set my books down on the floor silently.
"P-Professor?" Ms. Matthews opened her eyes. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise when I loosened the last button on my blouse and I let it slip from my shoulders. I left my tie on, letting it rest on my breasts as I stood up. "I really,
really
need a passing grade," I said, leaning over her desk so my cleavage was taking up most of her view.
"A passing grade?"
"A
good
passing grade," I corrected.
"In exchange for what?" she inquired, folding her arms across her chest, "I've seen breasts before, sweetheart."
I faltered for a moment and bit my lip again. My professor looked at me expectantly without unfolding her arms. Rounding the desk slowly, I was relieved to see her chair didn't have arms. I lifted my skirt a little higher than necessary, revealing my blue lace panties, and straddled her lap. Her gaze softened.
"You really want to pass, huh?," she murmured as my arms wrapped around her neck. I nodded. Professor Matthews put her hands on my waist to steady me and kissed me just above my breasts. Instead of going down like I thought she would, she moved up and nibbled my shoulder. Her fingertips wove themselves through my hair. It felt nice, like a massage, and I let out a throaty moan.
My heart was pounding in my chest. What if we got caught? Would she get fired? I felt guilty again despite the heat between my legs and pulled away. Matthews looked at me curiously. Then she smiled, a dimpled mischievous smile, and my guilt was replaced with need. I reached behind me and unclasped my bra, letting it slip off my body to reveal my round pink breasts.
