"Miss Waites, err, Sophia. I am sorry to bring such a delicate matter up but, errr.... Not to put too fine a point on it... erm. Ok I'll come right out with it. The campus is alive with rumours about a sexual liaison between you and some of your male students. Something of a scandal seems to be in the offing. I felt the need to consult you about it."
Professor Donald Manzarek is my boss. He's a boring, old, low paid fart, fighting alcoholism and terminal bachelorhood. He probably hasn't been able to get it up in the last ten years. He's coming across like a Victorian clergyman. I want to slap him. But I can't. He's head of faculty.
"Donald, the rumours are that I got drunk at a house party being held for one of my PE student's nineteenth birthday, and then had group sex with three boys, from the course. The allegations are, needless to say, untrue. In fact they are quite ridiculous. I haven't found the right moment to tell you before since I started In September Donald, but I'm a lesbian. I was at the party for about ten minutes. Of course none of the lurid goings on you may have heard about took place. It is just another simple case of silly young men making up stories."
I seriously doubt that the professor has ever been so shocked, embarrassed and uncomfortable before in his whole life. I could throw in my alibi, that I was getting fisted by a cuddly little third-year called Debbie when those pathetic little bastards were supposedly sodomizing me, but he might keel over and die.
"I see.... You're completely innocent of course...well I must say, I'm a little taken aback. The whole faculty will be behind you of course Sophia. I'm relieved. Not surprised, but relieved. I'm most glad the stories are groundless. The university cannot have scandals undermining our position in the community-"
I want to get the fuck out of here, "Well thank you for coming to me with this Donald. It's nice to know I can rely on the trust and support of my friends and colleagues in this sort of situation." Professor Manzarek is not my friend.
"Oh think nothing of it Sophia. You are, after all, a most valued member of the Physical Science team. There was one more little matter I wanted to talk to you about...its your appearance"
"My appearance Donald?" He's gone all red again. He's agitated. I really want to get the fuck out of here.
"Well Sophia please, I implore you, do not take this the wrong way... you really are an exceptionally attractive young women-"
"Why thank you Donald!" Don't piss yourself. Do not urinate in your knickers. Hold it together.
"Yes.... well. It's just that, with you being younger than the rest of the faculty, you are bound to get some unwelcome attention from some of our more boisterous young male students. We were wondering, that is, I was wondering, if you could perhaps tone down your dress. Just a tad. I wouldn't want to sympathise with any of the young rascals of course, but on occasion Sophia, with all possible respect, one wonders how the young gentlemen are expected to concentrate on their studies, hahaha"
"Of course Donald. You're absolutely right. I should have realised myself that I wasn't helping the situation. I'll put things right forthwith. Thank you for being so open with me. I truly appreciate it." IF I DON'T GET OUT OF THIS OLD BASTARD'S OFFICE NOW I'M GOING TO KILL SOMEBODY SO HELP ME GOD...
My cringe-worthy pep talk has made me rather angry. Those lying little gobshites from that party deserve to have their tiny little penises cut off and fed to them. I'm thinking of this delightful revenge as I step out of the elevator on the third floor. Two guys are looking straight at my tits. Do they think we don't notice? Or is it my fault for trying to look the best I can in clothes I like? Fuckers...
At 11.57am on Thursday morning I should be standing outside room 17 waiting for the room to be free so I can teach vacant young people about optimum nutrition for intense sports. Well, what I really would be doing is eyeing up the impossibly sexy little rock chick as she goes into 18 next door for photography. If I miss a sight of that hot little bitch I'm going to let my class go fifteen minutes early so I can go and masturbate in the ladies. My vagina will have its revenge on Professor Donald Manzarek...
But there she is. God. No wonder I'm getting obsessed. Everyone in the whole busy corridor is checking her out, even the women. She is stunning. She's got every reason for being super confident. Some people like tits. Some people like ass. I like legs. This little bitch has the perfect legs. Legs to die for. She has on a short, frighteningly short, reddish tartan skirt on, but the real highlight here is her stockings. She has black woollen stockings midway up her thighs. There has to be four inches of thigh on show between the tops of the stockings and her skirt. I'm getting wet just looking at that exposed flesh. The Lord knows she always looks breath taking, but I swear she's never looked this good before. Never.
She's got a black t-shirt with the Rolling Stones lips logo on it. The shirt is so tight it could have been painted on. She is probably a B-cup, but they suit her figure perfectly. Her hair is down to her shoulders, a deep chemical red. A black, snakeskin Prada bag hanging off her left shoulder says, I know I look like a cheap slut, but I have more money and more class and more fun than you will ever have.
