Staying After Class

I was always the outspoken one in class. Never could it be said that a teacher was safe from my scathing sarcasm, especially if that teacher happened to be male, and rather full of himself. From the first day that I walked into my biology class, I knew that we were like oil and water. He was Mr. Macho, and I was little Ms. Feminism. Unfortunately, he was also my teacher and held my perfect scholastic record in his beefy palm. This didn't stop me from calling him on his blatant sexism.

I'm getting ahead of myself. My name is Jessica Chancery. I am a five foot tall 18 year old that weighs around 98 pounds and has green eyes and long, thick red hair. The teacher I'm discussing is Mr. Thomas Pearl, 12th grade biology teacher and football coach. He also announced to us that he was a member of the National Guards. He is around six foot tall, probably around 200 pounds, bulky with brown eyes and hair.

As I said before, I was outspoken (read, smart ass) in class. I liked challenging my teachers as much as they liked challenging me. Mr. Pearl was a little different. He could really infuriate me. He was always playing up the whole men are the breadwinners and women are the bread makers thing. As a child of the 90s, I was hardly impressed and considering that my mother happened to be just as successful as my father, well I took it personally. So it became my mission to catch all of his machismo and call him on every nauseating instance. It kept me distracted from how his eyes felt like they burned into me every time he looked at me.

The day all of it changed, seemed like any other. I'd woken up that morning and prepared myself for another enlightening day at high school. I dressed in one of my favorite outfits; a tight gray pinstriped vest that buttoned up leaving only minor glimpse of cleavage, well worn boot leg jeans, lacy panties and push up bra, and a pair of short heeled "granny" boots. My hair was loosely piled up on top of my head and I wore only the lightest hint of makeup. I grabbed my book bag and headed to school.

It was a crisp October day, and I walked to school thinking of how much I loved fall. Classes moved swiftly, and I soon found myself in final period with Mr. Pearl. His eyes grazed me as I took my seat at the battered black topped table that served as a desk. Class moved along, we were preparing for the following week's dissection of a fetal pig. More or less uneventful, until we were idly chatting during the last 10 minutes of class. Mr. Pearl made an entirely revolting comment on how men were the natural choices for defenders of our great country. Before I could stop myself, I called him on it. Asking if he really felt that women shouldn't answer the call to work in the military? After making another rather sexist comment, I muttered, or so I thought, "Bullshit."

"Ms. Chancery, stay after class." Mr. Pearl commanded. So much for my muttering, I thought.

The bell rang and everyone filed out, a few of the girls dawdled, giggling goodbye to Mr. Pearl (Did I mention that the other young ladies in my class seemed enamored by the boor?). Soon it was just the two of us. He sat on a table in front of my own, and for a few silent moments we just stared at each other. One to never agree with silence, I stood up and started ranting that I shouldn't have said what I said, but I had felt provoked by his comments. I stood in front of him, wagging my finger as I listed the reasons that I shouldn't be punished for defending my opinions.

Out of nowhere, his arm reached out and pulled me to him. His arms wrapped around my waist, and my legs were situated in the V of his legs. I raised my face to his, about to ask him what he thought he was doing when he silenced me. His lips were gentle at first, sliding over mine. My heart beat faster as he started nibbling on my bottom lip, before taking my mouth fully with his own. I gasped, having never been kissed before, and his tongue invaded me. I pressed my chest against his, tilting my head to accommodate his ministrations. The room was silent aside from our breathing and an occasional moan or gasp.

One of these gasps came when I was sliding my hands up his legs to his thighs, my hand brushed against his hardness and he gasped against my lips. I liked having that effect on him, so I pressed into his erection with my palm. My efforts were rewarded with a moan.

There was a rapping on the door to the class. I pulled back, thankful that the door was down a small hallway and the only view from the door was of the lectern. Mr. Pearl, hopped from the desk and strode quickly to his desk as our principal Mr. Wallace walked in the room. Seeing a member of the National Honor Society in a classroom after school seemed to shock him at first.

"Ms. Chancery is helping me prepare some of the dissections for the other classes. I am going to be helping her with her science fair project as well, so she will be staying after school for a few weeks at least." Mr. Pearl answered, before Mr. Wallace could form the question.

"Actually, you said I might help you do some grading during lunch period too, Mr. Pearl," I offered, as though reminding him of some arrangement.

"Yes, yes, very good, Jessica." Mr. Wallace dismissed me with a wave of his hand. "I have something to discuss with Mr. Pearl, good-bye."

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Pearl," I said, licking my lips. I gathered my things and left the classroom. I wondered just what would happen tomorrow.