Excellent//afternoon

A F T E R N O O N

I pulled up in front of Mrs. MacGregor's house five minutes early and was relieved. The last thing I needed now was to be late. Her house was easy enough to find. 327 Parkway Drive was just where she said it would be, where the road bent to the left after turning from the major road. I checked myself in my rearview mirror. I had to rush over from the homeless shelter on the other side of town just to make it here on time and I hadn't had a chance to check myself before I left. I didn't look that bad for a Saturday spent with the homeless. My makeup still looked great and it framed the professional smile that I had been working on well. I had what people called an apple shaped face with a little dimple on my chin that gets me quite a bit of attention. I had been working on a tan all summer and it looked like it was starting to pay off. My boyfriend Tommy was right about the way it really brought out the gray in my eyes. I looked pretty, but for Mrs. MacGregor, I also hoped to look professional and scholarly and I thought my blouse and khakis along with my smart looking jacket would fit the bill.

I got out of my car and stepped up to Mrs. MacGregor's door. The house was nice, but not showy. It looked like an older place, two stories and made of brick. Along both sides of the house were rows of beautiful flowers and the whole home looked well-maintained and healthy. Something out of a Better Homes and Gardens magazines. I felt better just standing on the porch. The door had one of those wooden signs that feature a flock of birds in flight holding a banner that read

Hello There!

I knocked on the door and Mrs. MacGregor appeared to greet me. "Good afternoon, Mrs. MacGregor, how are you?" I said as I waved at her from the other side of the screen door.

"I'm doing well Penny Peasley, you're right on time. Excellent! Come in and let's get started." She opened the screen door to let me in, but I was distracted by how good she looked. She was like a pin-up with straight blond hair framing an apple shaped-face like mine. Instead of grey eyes like mine, Mrs. MacGregor's were and electric blue cat eyes that always seemed to penetrate me. She had a long, slender elegant looking nose on which sat her customary black rimmed glasses. All of that sat on top of an athletic, ridiculously hourglass figure featuring round full breasts (my guess was 36-C at a glance) and curvy, luscious thighs.

I swallowed hard and tried to get my brain to work. I was afraid of this. I would have been fine had she worn something else maybe. Jeans or sweatpants. I expected maybe a t-shirt and some stretch pants. Most teachers dress like slobs away from school. Not Mrs. MacGregor though. She was wearing a smart white sleeveless dress with wide straps that was so sheer that I could almost see through it, tied around her waist was a large black leather belt. To top it all off, she wore a black pair of low pumps. She looked as if she was going somewhere and I suddenly felt that my outfit wasn't as wonderful as I thought.

"Were you going somewhere?" I asked cheerfully. "I hope I'm not keeping you from anything ." I was half hoping that she would say yes so that I could go home and chill out. I started feeling apprehensive and I couldn't take my eyes off of her breasts, the outline of which I could see through the fabric of the dress. The half of me that couldn't look away didn't want to go anywhere.

"Not at all, Penny Peasley," she said as I stepped in. "We have the whole afternoon." She went to take my coat when she made a scrunchy face and started sniffing the air. "I'm sorry, is that you?"

I was confused. "Is what me, Mrs. MacGregor?" I asked hesitantly. She continued sniffing and she looked offended.

"That smell! Oh, it smells like you just came from a trash dump." she said, waving her hand in front of her nose. "You're going to have to change those clothes before we get started. Do you have a change of clothes in your car?"

I was caught between mortification and annoyance. I didn't think I smelled that bad and I always notice B.O. But then again, I hated to smell bad around people. I felt myself growing smaller and smaller by the minute. "Um, I, ah, no I don't Mrs. MacGregor, I could go home and change if you want, it would only take a minute-"

She sighed that exasperated sigh that I've been hearing a lot lately. There hadn't seemed to be anything I could do right for her since this year started. "No, no, we'll waste too much time doing it that way. I've just cleaned in here and now I'll just have to go back and do it again later. Go upstairs to the second bedroom on the right. It's my daughter's old room. She left some things in her closet that should fit you. Now Penny Peasley, I want you to take off everything you've got on, get into the shower and at least rinse off that stink and change into one of my daughter's outfits. Do you understand?"

I was totally caught off guard. Take a shower? Her daughter's clothes? "I think I can just put on some perfume, Mrs.-"

"Penny Peasley, we don't have time to argue. Do you want my help or not?" Her steel blue eyes were business-like and commanding and her golden blonde hair framed them gently as they fell to her shoulders. I still was hesitant, so she said, "Either we do it this way, or call the whole thing off and just deal with this matter in class. It's your choice, Penny Peasley."

Crap. I didn't want to waste her time at home, that wouldn't make a good impression at all. With a B and C on the first two papers, I was in deep enough already. That along with all of the other stuff, the incident in the bathroom, the leg thing, and the hair thing, all put together, had probably dropped me way down in her estimation. My favorite teacher now saw me as lazy, stupid, pervert. Geez. I thought this college seminar class was going to be a cherry on top of my senior year and now it looked like I wouldn't even get her college recommendation. Great job, Penny.

I figured it couldn't get any worse. "I'll go change. I'm sorry about this Mrs. MacGregor." I replied sheepishly as I started quickly up the staircase in front of the door.

"Don't be sorry, Penny Peasley, be quick." Mrs. MacGregor replied as she walked into the living room, barely troubled to look my way. "20 minutes and meet me back in the living room so that we can get started. You've wasted enough time already."

I made my way up her staircase and noticed how fresh and well maintained everything looked. Pictures of her husband and two children perfectly lined the wall behind the staircase and they had an amazing pale blue carpet that my parents would kill for, but never keep as clean as Mrs. MacGregor had. The rooms all smelled like fresh linen mixed subtly with the cigarette smoke that I knew came from her habit. She even smoked in class, but I didn't know how she got away with it. Upstairs, vases with silk flowers sat in every room and though her daughter's room was fairly bare, Mrs. MacGregor had added some nice touches. It almost made me forget how awkward the situation was. I stepped into the bathroom and found the guest towel set. I stripped off my clothes and quickly got into the shower because I wanted to be clothed again as soon as possible.

The warm water felt good on my skin and a I took a moment to enjoy it. The shower head was newer and sprayed out a light, soft spray that felt good on my naked body. I tried my best to relax as I rubbed soap all over my skin. I rubbed my arms, back, shoulders and down my chest and over my breast, which were perky and the size of large apples. The tanning that summer had really worked, which was much more than I could say for my best friend, Katie. We were both slender, (although I actually had a butt while Katie didn't fair quite as well) not model quality or anything, but we both still looked good in those bikini pictures. I had wanted to tone up for next year so that I didn't want to look like a slouch in college. I'm a bit short at 5'3, but with my brunette hair up and the right clothing, I could pass for 22. Without that, though, I look like a 10th grader, so I made sure to keep my hair and face dry. The last thing I wanted was to look scraggly for Mrs. MacGregor. She always looks so together and sophisticated, much more than the other teachers at school. As soon as I thought of her, I felt my nipples get hard and realized that my other hand had drifted down between my thighs. I stopped and gasped. What has gotten into me? I thought. The incident in the gym, getting caught masturbating in the bathroom? I wasn't into girls at all, never had been, but ever since I started the college seminar class, I've been getting turned on by the thought of Mrs. MacGregor. Ever since that pep rally. I kept telling myself that it was because I was excited to be in her class, but it was getting kind of scary now and it had to stop. But when I got near her, my pussy started to ache just like it did when I was jonesing for Tommy. It would have to stay on the back burner until I got this grade thing straightened out, though. One thing at a time.

I reluctantly got out of the shower once my body calmed down and I dried off with the towel. I went across the hallway to Mrs. MacGregor's daughter's room and I noticed that there wasn't a sound coming from downstairs. No TV, no radio, no sounds of anyone moving. It felt like I was in the house alone. It was just as I was thinking that that I realized that there wasn't a drawer in the room. It still had a bed, but no drawer to speak of. I opened the door with the mirror that I suspected of being the closet and it was bare, except for two items of clothing hanging forlornly in the corner. One was a blue spaghetti strap tank top, nothing special, something you might get at Wal-Mart. The other was an old pair of white cutoff jeans. Both looked like they'd been worn quite a bit. Not in bad shape, but not new. Wasn't there anything else to wear? I looked around the room for something else, but didn't see anything. I thought about going across the hall to what I figured was the master bedroom, but Mrs. MacGregor had specifically told me to come into this room and I didn't want any more trouble. I was thinking about asking her if there was anything else to wear, when all the sudden "2 minutes, Penny Peasley! Don't dawdle!" Her voice was sharp and cut the air like a knife, I almost fell over and had to steady myself on the closet door. "Okay Mrs. MacGregor." I pulled on the cutoffs and tank top, which were both maybe a smidge to big for me and without any underclothes, I pretty much felt naked. I looked around on the floor for some shoes or socks but there weren't any. I closed the door and looked in the mirror. I look like a 14 year-old hillbilly girl, I thought. All I needed was a straw hat.

This wasn't the impression that I wanted to make, but there really wasn't time to think about it. I made my way tentatively downstairs to find Mrs. MacGregor sitting comfortably on her coach in the living room beyond the dining room table. I can't stress how wonderful her house looked. The dining room was closer to the front door and dominated by a large antique walnut dining table that looked as if it had been babied within an inch of its life. There were white lace table settings set for three places. To the right, I could see the kitchen and what looked to be a den tucked away in the corner by the stairs. There were paintings and artwork scattered just so and the place looked immaculate, but also pretty comfy. A nice place to come home to, I thought.

Mrs. MacGregor was sitting on the couch in the finest looking living room that I had ever seen in person. Two large bay windows focused natural light into the space which consisted merely of a cream colored couch and chair facing each other and on the far side, a large bookshelf stocked with old tomes. There was a stereo and speaker set, too, but you wouldn't notice them unless you were looking. Mrs. MacGregor, though, put everything else in the room to shame and embarrassed or not, I was started to feel a throbbing in my pussy and my nipples were getting stiff. She sat with an easy poise on the couch reading a magazine, an ice tea on one of the end tables and the magazine spread across her lap. Her shapely legs were crossed so that the dress came up a bit past her knees and I got another glimpse at those creamy, sultry thighs as I approached tentatively. I was so anxious! I thought she might look up as I got closer, but she just kept flipping pages and reading, her legs crossed casually, her calves beautiful and curvy. She sat on her desk at school in much the same way and it drove me up the wall with lust.

"Mrs. MacGregor, I changed into the only things I could find up there," I ventured as I entered the living room in my horrible outfit. "I was wondering if there was anything else-"

"Shh!" She said, not even looking up from her magazine. "I'm trying to read this article, Penny Peasley. Sit down and I'll talk to you when I'm finished." With that, she turned the page and took a sip from a glass of iced tea. When she reached over for the glass, I was able to get a view of her nipples through the dress. Her slinky, toned arms, her beautiful neck. It was getting a bit hard to breathe. Was this just a nervous reaction? What was going on with me?

"Sorry, Mrs. MacGregor," I stammered as I sort of tripped over to the chair opposite her.

"Not there!" She said, still not looking up from behind her magazine. "I've just cleaned that chair." I looked around for somewhere else to sit down. Where does she want me to sit? I thought nervously, feeling all of my poise slipping for the second time in a half hour. I thought I might sit on the bookshelf, but as I approached it and started to settle, Mrs. MacGregor snapped again. "Not there, Penny Peasley, bookshelves are not for sitting." With that she flipped another page without looking my way.

Damn! I had never felt so uncomfortable in my life. I felt like I was intruding on her, like an imposition that she had to put up with. I had heard teachers complain about students like this for years. Students who thought that their teachers had a 24/7 schedule open just for them. Students who wanted their teachers to spend all kinds of time grading extra credit, but couldn't be bothered to even take the time to do the homework. I had worked hard at not being one of those students and now I felt the sinking feeling that I was becoming one of them. I looked at the spot next to her on the couch, but didn't take the option seriously. I thought about asking her what I should do, but it was obvious that she didn't want to talk. I was desperate then, which was the only reason that I thought about one of the fine wooden chairs that lined the dining room table. It was crazy, but every house had different rules for dining room chairs, maybe she just wanted me to sit on one of those.

Mrs. MacGregor looked up from her magazine in a huff as I started towards the dining room table. "Penny Peasley," she sounded upset, but not really angry, it was the sort of tone you'd take with a hyperactive kid who wouldn't stay off the furniture. "If you can't sit down on any of the furniture, where's the next logical place to sit?" She caught me totally off guard and I thought I was going to lose it. This was ridiculous. How could anyone treat a student this way, especially a good student like me? I groped for an answer, thinking too hard. Did she want me to make up my own seat? Stand in a corner? Sit on her lap? What? "Well?" Mrs. MacGregor pressed. "Do you know where to sit?" I shrugged helplessly and she pointed to a spot on the floor in front of the chair. "On the floor Penny Peasley, Christ."

"Oh, yes, okay, Mrs. MacGregor, sorry." I sat on the floor with my knees up to my chest and leaned on the chair, totally flustered. I was hoping that was at least ok. Mrs. MacGregor went back to reading her magazine and taking sips of her tea for awhile longer. I tried to collect my bearings, remember my talking points, and regain some composure, but I was totally unnerved by this point. I felt humiliated and bothersome. Worse than that I felt stupid and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was doing everything wrong. That, however, was nothing compared to the distraction provided by the view I got of Mrs. MacGregor from the angle that I was sitting. Her dress had hiked up a bit more and I could almost see where her thighs met, sitting temptingly on top of each other. I wondered what was underneath that dress, what her breasts looked like underneath the white sheer fabric, how they would feel in my hands. I could almost taste them, they looked so temptingly full and round, it was easy to see why she was so popular with the guys at school. My nipples were getting harder underneath the tank top and I was getting Goosebumps. This was really the wrong time to be horny. I managed to look away long enough to bring myself back to Earth.

Just in time, too. Mrs. MacGregor closed her magazine with a satisfying sigh and set it aside. She took another drink of her iced tea and finally looked at me with those steely blue eyes. She seemed amused and surprised, as if she had just remembered that I was in the room. "A wonderful article, extremely interesting. Are you interested in travel, Penny Peasley?"

An easy question, finally. "Yes, Mrs. MacGregor. My family and I went to-"

Mrs. MacGregor waved her hand dismissively. "Later, we have business to attend to," which ended what I thought might have been an interesting bit about a trip to Niagara Falls my family and I took in August. Damn! I settled back as she leaned forward to collect my paper and I steeled myself for just about anything. I could try to describe everything about the following conversation, but I think it may be easier to understand everything that happens later if I tell this part in dialogue. It went roughly as follows:

M: (Picks up Penny's paper from the end table and starts to flip through it) Now, we're here to discuss some difficulties that you had with last week's assignment. Is that right, Penny Peasley?

P: Yes, Mrs. MacGregor. I was thinking some more about what you said and I think there's just a disconnect between what you want on these assignments and how they're-

M: (Forging ahead, not paying attention to Penny's comments ) Well, looking through this paper again, I have to say that I think my comments about the content haven't changed, and I believe they were pretty clear cut on Thursday in class. I also think that my instructions were fairly simple as well, Penny Peasley. I asked the classl to write a well-informed opinion piece about volunteerism, at least 4 pages, double-spaced.

P: Mrs. MacGregor, I think the assignment might have been a bit vague. I mean, none of us did very good.

M: (Studying the paper) Very well, Penny Peasley, not very good. And the fact that none of you did well on the paper tells me nothing other than that the necessary effort was lacking on all of your parts. I've given this class for 10 years and vague instructions never seem to be a problem for students who do their best. (Recrosses legs) However, since you are here, I will try to go over the instructions of the assignment again so that you might better understand them. (Derisively)Though I don't believe that you couldn't understand my instructions from the start, (Penny starts to protest, but Mrs. MacGregor continues) I will indulge you, Penny Peasley.

P: (Looks down in disappointment) Thank you, Mrs. MacGregor.

M: You're welcome. Now, regarding this assignment, the task was to create a well-informed opinion piece on volunteerism that was no shorter than 4 pages double-spaced. The main problem that I had with your piece was the opinion part. You did understand that these were supposed to be your opinions, didn't you, Penny Peasley? Not just the random opinions of others.