Grading on a Curve

[Lucifers Tongue]

(closed for mirandavillere)

http://i252.photobucket.com/albums/hh38/luciferstongue/Man-Wearing-Glasses.jpg
Name: Brant Heller
Age: 34
Height: 6'1
Weight: 195
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Light Brown​

The first day of the new school year. The first class of the day. Brant was already feeling burnt out as he watched the students begin to file into the room and take seats. It felt like the previous year had just ended the day before. I guess that's what I get for agreeing to work the summer school classes, he thought to himself.

He glanced at his watch, seeing that he still had ten minutes before the bell would ring to signal the start of the period. Opening the top drawer of his desk, he pulled a stack of papers out and set them on the desk. The syllabus he had created for the class was ambitious, but this was his first year teaching the senior year Advanced Literature class and he was determined to make the most of it.

He'd spent six years teaching middle school English, and then two more teaching Freshman Composition, and even though the summer had flown by too quickly, he was looking forward to his first opportunity to work with the seventeen and eighteen year old students. I can already tell a difference, he said to himself, noticing that for the first time in his teaching career, he actually had students taller than he was. And the girls...did the girls look like this when I was in high school?

As the bell rang, Brant grabbed the syllabi from his desk and walked to the entrance to shut the door. Just as he started to pull the door closed, a young woman rushed in, brushing against him lightly.

 

[mirandavillere]

Miranda heard the bell and shoved her locker closed, hurrying down the hall with the wrong books, the wrong everything. The first day of school was always bad, but moving to a new town and a new school her senior year was beyond horrible. She finally got to the room, just as the teacher was pulling the door closed. She slipped on her heels, a bad choice on these floors, but didn't quite manage to actually fall down as she burst through the door. Brushing against the teacher as she straightened out her tight white dress, she paused at the front of the room, feeling disdain radiating from her peers and absentmindedly tucking her blonde hair behind an ear.

She looked down at her schedule, biting her lip as she caught her breath. She knew wearing her white dress had been a mistake, but this morning it had seemed like a good way to make a clean start. As if this school would be any different than any other, and already she was realizing it was way too tight, too short and too lowcut. Especially for the kids in the honors program, who were either dressed like lawyers playing golf or left-over revolutionaries from the 20th century.

"Mister Heller, right?" she said, taking a deep breath. She knew every kid in there would think she was sticking her tits out at the teacher, but what was she supposed to do? hold her breath til she fainted? She heard the whispers "Advanced literature? I'm Miranda."

She looked around and saw she had her pick of seats in the front row. It figured. She decided to at least make it seem like her choice. Picking the one in the center, she sat down, and slid her books into the shelf under her desk, keeping just a pad out to take notes in.

 

[Lucifers Tongue]

As Brant turned to face the late arrival, several of the papers he was carrying slipped to the ground. He bent down quickly to retrieve them, only to find himself looking at a beautiful set of long, shapely legs. The dress that the girl was wearing was extremely short and he found himself staring longer than he should. Quickly gathering the papers from the floor, the teacher stood up straight, adjusting his glasses.

"Mister Heller, right?" he heard the girl say. It was at this point that she took a deep breath, immediately drawing his attention to her chest, prompting him to swallow nervously. Again he found himself staring longer than he should.

Brant handed the girl a copy of the syllabus, and motioned for her to take a seat, as he did his best to focus on anything except the sight of her nearly perfect body in that tight, white dress. That very small, tight white dress. Making his way around the room, he passed out the rest of the papers as he introduced himself to the class.

By the time he made it back to his desk, Miranda had taken a seat in the front row, directly in front of him. Laying the extra syllabi on the desktop, the teacher stood just behind the desk and began to address the class. Brant went over a short list of "class rules and expectations" with the kids; your basic list of do's and don'ts. Once that was done, he began to go over the syllabus that he'd passed out, discussing what materials they would be covering during the year.

As he spoke, Brant found his attention returning again and again to the blond in the front row. Miranda. The shortness of her dress was a fantastic distraction, especially anytime she crossed or uncrossed her legs. And then there was her chest. Everytime she breathed deeply or sighed, her breasts would rise, drawing his gaze. Luckily for Brant, most of the students were staring at the syllabus as he spoke, rather than at him.

By the time they were nearing the end of the period, Brant had decided that this might not be such a bad year afterall. Somehow, despite the distractions of the beautiful blond, he had managed to cover the basic literary themes that they would be focusing on for their first few readings and answer several questions.

With only a couple of minutes left in the hour, Brant started passing out copies of their first book. He started at the back of the class, working his way forward. As he reached Miranda's desk, standing over her, unable or unwilling to keep his eyes from straying to her cleavage, he smiled and handed her the book.

The bell rang.

"Enjoy the rest of your day, Miranda," he said with a smile, adjusting his glasses again.

 

[mirandavillere]

She couldn't be sure, but it seemed like Mr. Heller was looking at her more than the others. At first she worried that there was something wrong, but she couldn't see anything to worry about, so she settled down to take notes and try to pay attention to what he was saying, but she was already feeling burned out and it was the first class of the day. If only summer could have been a little longer, she would have been more ready, or at least gone to bed earlier.

She didn't quite fall asleep, but she was pretty close when he handed her the text book. She took it, and tried to say something sensible, like "thanks," but she just looked up at him and blinked. He smiled, but he was looking down, and she glanced down and realized just how much cleavage was showing in her dress and she felt her cheeks begin blazing with embarrassment. Then the bell rang, and he was standing right by her desk.

She started to lean forward to get her other books out from under the desk, but she would have had to lean her face pretty much against his lap, so she just looked up at him, blushing and feeling stupid. And then she glanced down at the front of his pants. Was he checking her out, she wondered.


"Enjoy the rest of your day, Miranda," he said, and she looked up, eyes wide, mortified that she had just been staring at him and thinking that, even if it had just been a couple of very fast heartbeats.

She stood up, which pretty much mean pressing against him, as close as he stood to her desk, and for a moment, she thought she felt him tense, but she could hardly tell, she was so worried about what he must think of her. She should have worn a sweater, she thought. Now he was going to think of her as the bimbo in his first period.

"Thank you, Mr. Heller. You too," she mumbled as she turned. Other students were starting to fill the room, and she had to figure out where the math department was. Se couldn't just walk out without her stuff, so she did the only thing that she could, she bent over the desk and reached down to grab the books. She glanced at him as she straightened, and then mumbled "See you tomorrow."

She rushed out of the room, wondering if the day could possibly get any worse.

 

[Lucifers Tongue]

Brant didn't realize how close he was standing to Miranda's desk until she attempted to stand up to leave, her body brushing firmly against his own. He could see a look of embarassment on the girl's face as her chest pressed against his. For that brief moment, before he took a half step back, his whole body tensed, his mind filling with a wealth of totally inappropriate thoughts.

"Thank you, Mr. Heller. You too," he heard Miranda say softly. He started to say something else, but the words died on his lips as he saw the beautiful blond bend over the desk to retreive her books.

Two things happened as he stood there watching her bend over the desk, the back of her dress riding dangerously high. First, he stopped breathing, his chest tightening. Second, he felt his cock stiffen, pressing slightly against the front of his pants. He was completely oblivious to the other students shuffling in and out of the room, his attention focused completely on the sight of Miranda's body in that dress.

"See you tomorrow," Miranda said as she finally straightened and headed for the door.

Brant finally managed to pull himself out of the mini-trance he'd been in and make his way back to his desk, struggling to focus his thoughts on his next class. He was of course, completely unsuccessful, thought he did manage to make it through the next two classes. His mind continued to wander back to the images of the young blond, the feel of her body against his, the smell of her hair...

When he finally got a break during fourth period, Brant was grateful for the chance to get out of the room for a few minutes. He stopped in the teacher's lounge and had a granola bar and a coke, chatting with a couple of his colleagues.

On the way back to his room, he stopped in the office to speak with the registrar. He picked up a copy of the rosters for his final two classes of the day, then paused for a moment to add his name to the list of teachers requesting student aids. The student aids were seniors who were assigned to assist teachers with grading papers, and other administrative tasks during their off period.

As Brant made his way down the hallway toward his classroom, the bell rang and students begin to file out into the hallway. As he weaved through the sudden throng of chattering students, he caught sight of Lauren Grant, the history teacher. As he tried to get her attention with a wave, Brant felt himself collide with someone, stumbling to the side and catching himself against a row of lockers, his unintended victim caught between his body and the locker door.

 

[mirandavillere]

As if the day couldn't get any worse, it seemed like all of her classes, were going to be made up of mostly the same group of honors students, with a few differences in each class. They obviously all knew each other, and she was reminded how gossip seemed to travel in ways that defied all known science. By fourth period, they weren't even bothering to whisper.

"... said she was totally bent over..."
"... the way he looked at her..."
".... guess how she made the honor roll..."

Whenever she looked to see who was saying it, she just met a wall of smirking faces, and so she just say and tried to ignore it and stay focused on taking notes. It was hard to think about AP Physics when she realized she had gotten tagged with the worst reputation she could think of. Then she had to stay to get a permission slip from the Physics teacher that the other students had all signed last year, and by the time she left, she knew she was running late. She hurried as fast as she could, trying to ignore the mirthful sneers the other students gave her. The first bell rang just as she reached her locker, and she crammed her stuff in, hoping that at least on the first day there would be a little slack on tardiness. She pulled out her book for her next class and slammed the locker door, turning and taking a step and half before someone plowed into her.

She would have fallen on her ass except the person who had hit her caught her around the waist. They both stumbled back against the lockers, and she felt herself pinned by a heavy, male body in a sweater, just like one she had seen earlier. She looked up to see who it was.

"Oh God," she whispered, staring up at Mr. Heller. She felt her face blazing red, thinking of what people would say when they heard about this. Her chin trembled and she felt herself breathing faster, almost hyperventilating as she had a sudden vision of spending her senior year as the laughingstock of the school. The worst part was that she liked the way his arm had felt around his waist. She blinked and realized she had been staring up at him, and then the second bell rang. She was officially late, and halfway across the building from where she needed to be. The hall seemed to drain as the other students filed into classrooms, and she shivered against him.

"I have to go." Her voice was breathy, barely a whisper. "Please.... I'm already late."

 

[Lucifers Tongue]

"Sorry, I guess it wouldn't be the first day of school if I didn't run over at least one student in the hallway," Brant apologized as he pushed against the wall of lockers, forcing himself off of the unfortunate victim of his clumsiness. As he stepped back slightly to regain his balance, he looked down, seeing the blond hair, the white dress, the breasts...Miranda. Seriously, what are the chances, he thought to himself.

"Oh God," she whispered.

"Are you okay?" he asked, seeing the almost pained expression on her face. "You aren't hurt are you?" she didn't look hurt, just embarassed, her cheeks red, her eyes downcast as if afraid to look at him. Her breathing was fast and shallow, causing her chest to heave up and down rapidly, which made it nearly impossible for Brant to focus on anything else. They were so close, it almost felt...intimate.

"I have to go." Her voice was breathy, barely a whisper. "Please.... I'm already late." Brant took another step back, glancing around at the nearby students. Suddenly he felt embarassed too, embarassed by his own clumsiness, not to mention the fact that he had let himself linger a moment too long against her body.

"Of course," he said, backing away to allow her to continue on her way. "I...sorry," his voice grew quiet, unsure what he could say in the awkwardness of the moment.

"Tomorrow will be a better day," he finally said, trying to sound encouraging.

 

[mirandavillere]

"Tomorrow will be a better day," he said. Something in his tone made her pause
She stared at him a moment. There was a strange look on his face, his brow creased just a little, lips turned just barely down, his eyes intent. On a different face it could have looked disapproving, but he looked almost vulnerable. For a moment, she forgot he was a teacher, and just saw a man looking troubled. Her eyes softened.

Then she remembered that he was a teacher. It didn't make him less human, but it made his humanity sort of irrelevant. She scurried away to her next class, trying not to think about Mr. Heller, and his sweetly handsome face.

The day dragged on and by the last period of the day, Miranda was exhausted. Trying to keep her chin up took a toll, and she already had homework for two classes, on the first day! She was sure there were laws against that kind of thing, but other than joining the general chorus of groans, she knew she couldn't do much about it.

Then minutes before the bell rang to set her free, she was called to the office. The principal was out of the building, and the vice-principal was dealing with two boys who had gotten into a fight in the locker room. The receptionist scowled at her as though she was trying to get away with something, and after a few minutes suggested that maybe she was supposed to go to the guidance office.

At the guidance office she sat down to wait opposite a pimply, overweight freshman who stared at her like she was some kind of alien. She rolled her eyes and looked away, and tried to ignore the endless sniffing. He was called in, eventually, and then she waited alone. With nothing else to do, she looked at the list of extra curriculars. She signed up for the school newspaper, and the AP study group, and for the student teacher's aid program, and just as a joke, for the School Spirit Squad.

Finally she went into the guidance counsellor's office, and learned that she had to switch her 2nd and 6th period classes for reasons that seemed very important, but not to her. She just nodded and took the new schedule as the bell rang, and hurried out, passing Mr Heller walking in. They did a little dance, trying to get out of each other's way, and some dangerous impulse made her smile.

"If this keeps up, we're going to have to practice walking by each other," she said, and squeezed past him, headed for the buses, thinking tomorrow would have to be better.

 

[Lucifers Tongue]

As Miranda rushed away from their encounter, Brant found himself watching her, appreciating the way her dress clung tightly to her body, moving with her every step. When she finally passed out of sight, he turned to head to his own classroom, only to see Lauren still standing in the hall.

He started to smile, but then he saw her raised eyebrow and her hands on her hips, elbows cocked to the side. She had clearly seen the entire incident, including the way Brant had let his eyes linger too long on the attractive senior. Making eye contact with him, Lauren shook her head disapprovingly and gave him a small smile before turning and entering her classroom.

Brant made his way back to his class, doing his best to forget the awkward encounter with Miranda, and the look on Ms. Grant's face. He felt like a fool for being so entranced by the young blond, and even more so for getting caught. Murmuring a quick apology to the students in his tenth grade composition class, Brant made his way to his desk.

The last two classes of the day went smoothly, and by the time the bell rang signaling the end of the school day, Brant was feeling much better about the beginning of the school year, despite the rough start. He smiled at several of the students filing past his desk, as he began to gather his things and slip them into his leather shoulder bag.

With one last look at the room to make sure everything was in order, Brant grabbed his bag and headed to the office. He had to turn in a list of the students that had actually showed up for each class, and pick up any mail or memos he might have in his mailbox.

As he entered the office, he came face to face with Miranda who was on her way out. To his credit, Brant kept his eyes where they belonged as he and the blond attempted unsuccessfully to manuver around one another. The last thing he needed was for one of the shrews in the principals office to see him checking out a student.

"If this keeps up, we're going to have to practice walking by each other," Miranda said with a smile.

"I knew I should have taken those free Tango lessons at the Y," he responded as they finally managed to slip past one another. "Cya tomorrow."

Again, to his credit, Brant resisted the temptation to turn his head and steal another glance at the beautiful girl. Maybe I've turned over a new leaf, he thought to himself. Of course, the real test will be tomorrow morning when she's sitting right in front of me for an hour. If I can survive that, I'll be okay.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Heller," he heard the secretary, Mrs. Pratt, say. She had the rare, and finely honed ability to sound judgemental regardless of what she was saying. She could be reading you a phone number and it would sound like an accusation.

"Mrs. Pratt, it's wonderful to see you," he said, not pausing to chat. "I hope you had a great summer." Passing her desk, Brant made his way to the bank of mailboxes along the wall. He pulled several items from the mailbox, then dropped his class lists into the basket labeled 'rosters'.

As he started back out of the office, Mrs. Pratt stopped him with a wave of her hand. "We've already had seven students sign up for the school newspaper, Mr. Heller. Do you know when you will be scheduling your first meeting?"

"Next week," he responded, seeing the look on her face that seemed to say, oh, you're waiting that long? "Just want to give all the interested students a chance to sign up," he explained before turning and heading toward the door, "I'll get back to you with an exact day and time later this week."

Escaping into the hallway, Brant sighed. Okay, I've got about fourteen hours, he thought, and then...day two.

 

[mirandavillere]

The next day, Miranda chose to try to be invisible. She wore jeans and a hoodie like every other girl who wanted to disappear. She had plenty of time to get to her locker and grab the homework she had left at school yesterday afternoon. It was simple enough, and with any luck, she'd be able to get it done before the bell rang in Mr. Heller's class. Maybe that would be better today, she thought. She had always loved English, but this year, it was threatening to be nothing but a source of humiliation.

Today, though, she didn't have to go as far as her first class before her day was ruined. She was just walking in the front door when the sour-faced woman from the front office came stalking after her, clucking impatiently until Miranda realized that it was her that was being singled out.

"You know the dress code," the witch snapped. "You can't wear that."
"I can't wear what?" Miranda said, not sure what she could be wearing that was against the rules.
"No hoodies. Take it off."
"Are you kidding?" Even as she said it, she knew it was a mistake. When the bell rang for the beginning of class, she was sitting in the office, waiting for the vice-principal. Her hoodie had been confiscated and she felt naked in the tight little tanktop she had worn under it. Mrs Pratt sat behind her desk, managing to scowl and look triumphant at the same time.

The vice-principal explained that hoodies allowed students to conceal drugs, weapons and cell phones, and that no exceptions could be made. The way his eyes cut towards Mrs. Pratt when he said the last made Miranda think that he was bullied by his own receptionist. He showed his magnanimity be telling her that her parents would not be called, this time; she would be allowed to collect her hoodie at the end of the day. It would have been funny, almost, except that she now had to go through the day with her black bra showing through the sheer pink tank, and that wasn't going to help matters.

Fifteen minutes after class started, she walked into Mr. Heller's room. Trying to ignore the looks her classmates gave her, and the snickers she heard from some choice remark, she handed him her late pass. She mumbled "Sorry I'm late." and slouched down in her seat, doing her best to disappear.

 

[Lucifers Tongue]

As the students began to make their way into the classroom for first period, Brant found himself keeping an eye out for Miranda. He felt like he needed to prove to himself that he could look at her as just another student, and that the day before had just been an aberration. It wasn't as if she was the first attractive girl he'd seen in school, or in his class. High school was full of temptations, but until yesterday, he'd never had a problem accepting the look but don't stare policy.

He greeted several of the students as they entered and took their seats, but still saw no sign of Miranda. When the bell rang signaling the beginning of class, Brant actually found himself disappointed at the sight of the empty chair in the front row. Had she noticed the way I looked at her? Maybe that was why she was in office, so that she could request a transfer to a different class?

Pushing thoughts of the sexy blond out of his mind, Brant stood and began to take role. When he called Miranda's name he paused a moment, scanning the classroom to make sure she hadn't chosen another seat. With no answer, he completed role and launched into a series of general school announcements. Once he'd finished the announcements, he spent about five minutes discussing how the first day of school went, doing his best to try to engage the students and get them in the habit of talking during class instead of just listening.

As they talked, Brant walked around to the front of his desk and sat on the edge of the desk. He slowly transitioned the conversation into a discussion on what authors and books the students had read before, slowly drawing them into a discussion of the various literary themes present in some of the books mentioned.

The class was beginning to loosen up, when the door opened and Miranda walked in, her eyes downcast. Brant's first thought as she approached him, a slip of paper in her hand, was that she hadn't transferred out of his class. He felt relieved at the thought. His second thought was that her tank top was extremely tight, and low cut, the edges of her black bra visible. He forced himself to look her in the face as she handed him the late slip and apologized.

Brant turned slightly to lay the slip of paper on his desk, while Miranda took her seat just in front of him. As he turned back around, Brant realized that sitting on the front edge of his desk meant that he was practically towering over the blond girl's desk. He once again had to force his eyes elsewhere to keep from staring down at her breasts. I know I said I wanted to prove to myself that I could deal with the temptation, but I was hoping she would be wearing something a bit less provacative...like a poncho.

He knew he should move from his position at the front of his desk, but he didn't want to be so obvious about it that he drew attention to himself. I'll go write something on the board in a minute, he told himself, that will give me an excuse. Now he just had to hope that between then and now, Miranda didn't lean forward. Not only would her breasts be on display, but she would be eye to eye with his crotch.

Brant struggled with the intense desire to look down at the blond in front of him. He knew he shouldn't, especially after the hallway encounter that had been witnessed by Ms. Grant. The last thing he needed was for the entire class to catch him checking her out. It was even more difficult because the pink of her tank top kept catching his eye as he would look around the room. Finally, he gave up, turning his eyes down to look at her, "Miranda, do you have a favorite author, or book?"

Asking her a question gave him an acceptable reason to look down at her, and to his credit, as he waited for an answer, Brant managed to keep his eyes on hers...well, mostly.

 

[mirandavillere]

Miranda sat down for another day in what surely was some little known hell for teenagers, forced front and center and exposed to the derision of her peers and Mister Heller, who barely seemed to notice her arrival except to frown. She tried her best to disappear into her chair, and he seemed determined to ignore her. She had probably gone too far yesterday, joking about walking past him, and now he would just think she was some kid with a crush.

She looked up at him. Did she have a crush on him? He was cute, in a way.

As if he could read her thoughts, at that moment he looked down at her. There was an odd look in his eye, as if he had caught her, and she realized she was slouched down in her seat like the worst kind of slacker. "Miranda, do you have a favorite author, or book?"

She sat up the way she had learned at her last school, back straight and shoulders back. She felt the pull of her bra straps on her shoulders and realized just how much her breasts lifted up when she did that. When she looked back up at him, his face had changed. She wasn't quite sure exactly what was different or what it meant. Was he paler? Were his lips a little tighter? Did he think she was some sort of bimbo?

Suddenly, she felt like one. She knew it had only been a fraction of a second since he asked her his question, but the silence seemed to stretch, and every instant of silence made her seem a little bit dumber. Every nanosecond that she sat there with her boobs stuck out and no answer made her seem like a fake, and her mind was suddenly blank. She couldn't for the life of her think of any authors' names. Her mouth got dry, and she tried to picture her bookshelf at home, with the exotic scarves and strings of beads draped over it to try to make the utilitarian ornate. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to envision the spines of the books.

"Um," she said. She seized on the first name that came to mind, never mind that she had no idea how to pronounce it. "Anais Nin?"

As soon as she had said it, she could think again, and the only thing she could think of was that she had just said her favorite author was a writer of porn. She could feel her cheeks blaze, even her ears, and she leaned forward to hide her face. Straight in front of her was his crotch, again, and she tried to turn away, but for just a second, she had to look.

 

[Lucifers Tongue]

Brant could tell by the expression on her face, that the question had taken the young girl by surprise. He noticed the way Miranda's posture immediately changed when he called on her. She sat up, her back straightening, her chest pushing forward. The teacher once again found his eyes drawn down to the tops of her breasts as they threatened to spill out of the top of her tank top.

"Anais Nin?" the sound of her voice finally broke the semi-trance Brant had been in, and he forced his eyes back to hers, wondering if she'd noticed where his gaze had been lingering. Had the rest of the class noticed.

As he forced himself to look up at the other students in the room, Brant's mind finally processed her response. Her favorite author was Anais Nin? Seriously? Is she just fucking with me? Am I sweating?

"Anais Nin...,"he finally said, speaking to the entire class. "Her most famous work of course was Henry and June, which revolved very much around the themes of transformation and self-creation." And erotic experimentation, homosexuality and incest, he added to himself.

Brant finally looked down at the young blond just as she leaned forward. His attention moved quickly to the sight of her prominent cleavage, then just as quickly was drawn to the sight of her head moving toward his lap, which of course conjured up an entirely new, and enticing set of image into his mind. Feeling himself actually becoming aroused, Brant pulled himself off of his desk, slipping past Miranda. He circled around behind his desk and began to write on the chalkboard, listing several of the literary themes they had dsicussed, as he tried to force his thoughts away from the young girl in the front row.

Mercifully, the bell rang a few minutes later, allowing Brant to sink down into his chair as the students began to stand and gather their things.

 

[mirandavillere]

For a moment after she said it, he just stared at her. Suddenly she wondered if he even knew who that was, and she hoped he wouldn't ask her to say anything about why she was her favorite. She wished she could take it back and say something else. Something like Dr. Seuss. She felt her face beginning to flush, and then she heard him beginning to talk.

He obviously knew exactly who Anais Nin was. For a moment, she thought he was about to talk about the dark sexuality that made her writing speak to Miranda. She knew that would end her in this school, but he spared her. A quick glance at the disinterested faces of the other students reassured her that at least they didn't know what he wasn't saying.

Mr. Heller spent the rest of the class writing on the board, and seemed to be doing his best to ignore her. She was grateful to him, but at the same time, oddly stung by it. As awfully as the first days of school had been, he was still the only person in the whole school who seemed to not hate her already. She treid not to look at him during class, but somehow she couldn't help it. She wondered what he must think of her, knowing that she was a fan of Anais Nin, and for a moment, she imagined him as a mysterious, charismatic libertines, leading women into decadent pleasures.

When the bell rang, she had her books ready and was out the door in a flash. The last thing she wanted was for him to ask her about her taste in reading material. Or maybe she was just afraid of how much she did want it.

Everything went fine until she had study hall. As soon as she walked in the room, Coach Bryant barked at her to come to his desk. His eyes opened a bit wider as he looked at her chest, and then he sneered and handed an envelope to her.

"Teacher's Aid. You're out of here."

She hadn't expected to be assigned so quickly, but she opened the envelope and skimmed the letter, "Dear Miss Villere, Due to your outstanding record of academic blah blah blah. . . . "

"Mister Heller?" she whispered, when she saw the name of the teacher she had been assigned to. "Oh shit."

She made it back to his classroom a minute after the bell rang. She opened the door and stepped in, eyes down, afraid of what he must think. Two perios a day she was going to spend with him. Somehow, the idea was terrifying and exhilarating. She stepped forward, setting the letter on his desk.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "I'm supposed to be your aid for this period."

 

[Lucifers Tongue]

At the sound of the door opening, Brant looked up and was surprised to see Miranda walking toward his desk, her breasts jiggling slightly as walked, her eyes downcast. He realized, that for the first time since he'd met the beautiful, young blond, Brant was alone with her; no class full of students watching his every move, no fellow teachers giving him disapproving looks. His mind immediately filled with a million porn movie cliches even as he sat up straight, trying to look professional.

"Sorry, I'm supposed to be your aid for this period," she explained, laying a piece of paper on his desk.

"Oh," he said, surprised that he hadn't received any notification from the secretary. The thought of having Miranda as his assistant was both exciting and scary at the same time.

"Well, why don't you have a seat," he said, standing up from his desk and motioning toward the same desk that she sat in during first period. "We can take a few minutes and get to know each other before we get down to business."

Out of habit, Brant circled around to the front of the desk and sat down just in front of Miranda's desk. "So tell me a little about yourself," he said smiling, "Other than the fact that you like reading erotic literature and dancing with handsome english teachers."

 

[mirandavillere]

There was something different about him now, the way he lounged in his seat, the way he directed her and the way he strolled around to stand in front of her. She realized it was probably that he didn't have a class, he was himself now, and not the English teacher. Now she was going to be the reason he didn't have his free period free anymore. She felt a little tightening inside at the thought that she would be alone with him for forty-five minutes every day.

Miranda sat in her seat, watching him as he came around and leaned against his desk, still standing over her so she had to look up to meet his eye.

"So tell me a little about yourself," he said smiling, "Other than the fact that you like reading erotic literature and dancing with handsome english teachers."

It took a moment for what he said to sink in. Then she flushed, she could feel her cheeks burning, and even her ears. Every part of her wanted to deny what he had just said, but she couldn't. She lowered her eyes, straight to the crotch of his pants. All his stuff was right there, she thought, his cock and balls. She could reach out and touch them, but since he was wearing pants, it all might as well have been a mile away.

She glanced up at him, realizing she had been staring at his crotch and tried to remember the question. The way he was looking at her was too much for her, and she looked to the side, at the poster on the wall behind him. Prepositions: She looked down the list and certain words jumped out, behind, above, below, into, between, up, down, under, within, onto The whole list seemed almost obscene.

"I don't just like erotic literature," she mumbled. Though as she looked at the pictures of famous authors on the wall, she couldn't help but see leering, lecherous old men. Was everything about sex? Was she really the slut that the whole school seemed to think she was? How could they know when she didn't even know. She took a deep breath and tried to stop thinking about it.

She started telling him about herself. It seemed like hours had gone by since he had asked the question, but it was really just a few seconds. This period was going to last forever. "My dad got transferred here this year. We just moved last week. English was always my best subject before this year. I'm not really a slut."

The last thing fell out of her mouth before she even knew what she was saying. Her eyes cut immediately to his crotch again, as though they wanted to make sure it seemed like a lie, and she felt herself clenching. Maybe it was a lie, she thought. Maybe it was something about this room, or Mr. Heller than forced her to think about sex all the time.

 

[Lucifers Tongue]

Brant regretted his little joke about erotic literature almost before it even left his mouth, realizing too late that it was probably going to make the girl self conscious. He could see the flush of her cheeks as she processed what he'd said, and wasn't surprised that she quickly looked down, avoiding his gaze. As she began to speak, still not looking up at him, Mr. Heller found himself indulging his desires by letting his eyes move down to her full, round breasts, no longer fearful that anyone would notice. After all, they were alone now.

"...I'm not really a slut," the last few words finally pulled Brant's attention away from Miranda's breasts. Why had she said that? Had she noticed him staring?

Brant looked to her face, but she was once again looking down. "I...of course not...why..." He didn't really know what to say to that. "You are very beautiful." holy shit! Why did he just say that? Why not just come right out and tell her you want to fuck her?

Just the thought of fucking Miranda, coupled with the sight of her ample cleavage just below him, was enough to arouse Brant, his cock beginning to stiffen slightly in his pants. Instinctively, he glanced down and realized that she was looking right at his crotch. Could she tell that he was getting hard? In his mind, he pictured her leaning forward and unzipping his pants to free his cock. The image caused him to stiffen even more.

Damnit! Why can't you think about baseball or something, Brant asked himself. It was no good, all he could think about was Miranda...her breasts...her lips...how close she was to his cock...

 

[mirandavillere]

Mr Heller seemed as shocked as she was by the words she had said. For a long moment, he just stared at her, and it looked like he was thinking the exact same thing she was. What was wrong with her? She shouldn't have said anything like that to anyone, but especially not to her teacher. Especially a teacher she would need a recommendation from. In the middle of her freefall into complete humiliation and despair, Mr. Heller said something that stopped her, saved her and gave her just a little hope.

"You are very beautiful."

She looked up at him, and he had the strangest look in his eye. For a moment it seemed like he was feeling the same way she was, but he hadn't said anything stupid. He had said something so simple and sweet.

"You mean it?" she whispered, and then she blushed, and her eyes dropped again.

She found herself looking at his crotch again, but it was not the same. She tilted her head, trying to see what had changed, and then suddenly it was perfectly clear. Her eyes opened wide and she pressed her thighs together, trying to fight the excitement that surged through her. Was she turning him on?

That thought made her bite her lip. She knew she had been staring too long, but she couldn't help it. It was right in front of her and she couldn't help wondering what it looked like. She glanced up at him, and saw him looking down at her with a look that was almost pained.

"Mister Heller," she whispered softly.

 

[Lucifers Tongue]

Miranda's whisper had been so soft, Brant almost believed he'd imagined it at first, but when he saw her looking up at him, he realized it wasn't his mind playing tricks on him. He didn't know what to say. Had she noticed the growing bulge in his pants and said his name in surprise and revulsion at the thought of her teacher becoming aroused in front of her? Had she been about to say something else when she noticed the embarassing bulge and was now left speechless with confusion?

"Miranda...I...I think..." Brant stammered, trying to think of something to say. "I should..." his voice trailed off, unable to find the right words. He paused for a long moment before finally taking a deep breath.

"Yes, I mean it," he said in response to her early question. "You are very beautiful."

 

[mirandavillere]

She looked up with her big blue eyes, trying to read his face as he started to say something to her. He started but stopped, twice. She sat up a little straighter in her chair, a reflex from some long ago teacher who had insisted on good posture. Only now she saw the way his eyes darted down to her chest. She realized she was pushing her breasts out towards him, and that in her tight little tanktop, they were perfectly outlined.

"They made me take my hoodie off," she said, and then winced. Could she possibly sound more inane? She looked down, at the way his thing was outlined so clearly through his pants. She licked her lips, and said. "Everyone thinks we did it."

She slowly slid her hand across her desk towards and let her fingers curl over the edge. She lifted her index finger, pointing towards the bulge in his pants. She looked up at him and leaned forwards, giving him even more of a show of her cleavage.

 

[Lucifers Tongue]

"They made me take my hoodie off," he heard Miranda say. The comment seemed to come out of nowhere, unless of course, she had noticed him staring at her breasts and was trying to offer an explanation for the fact that she was wearing the tight, little tank top. "Everyone thinks we did it."

"Unfortunately, it is a school policy, though they should probably so a better job...wait...what?" Brant had started to comment on the no hoodie policy when his brain finally processed her last comment. Who was everyone? Why would they think that he and Miranda...

He was about to ask why she would think that, when he saw the young, blond lean forward, her hands moving to the front of her desk. His eyes immediately moved to her breasts which seemed on the verge of spilling out of her top at any moment. Did she not realize that he could see down her shirt? Did she not realize what she was doing to him? Then he saw her finger pointing at the stiffening outline of his cock in the front of his pants and Brant realized that Miranda knew exactly what effect she was having on him.

"That's ridiculous...you're a student and I-I'm a...I'm your teacher..." he said as if trying unsuccessfully to convince himself. A million thoughts raced through his mind, some involving him indulging his fantasies, others involving him being fired from his job, too many for him to focus on.

"It's not like a beautiful young woman like you would be interested in a boring, old English teacher like me," he said, standing up as he spoke. Unfortunately, when he stood up, his body leaned forward, closing the distance between Miranda and himself, or more specifically, between Miranda's finger and his crotch.

 

[mirandavillere]

It hit her like a bucket of ice. Ever since people had started talking about it, a little part of her had wondered what it would be like. She wasn't quite a virgin, though her experiences with boys her age had been so disappointing that she had more or less given up on sex. Except for the past day and a half, she had had this strange little fantasy of being with an older man, who knew what he was doing. Specifically, Mr. Heller.

Who thought the idea was ridiculous.

She sat back in her seat, blinking quickly as the excitement she had been feeling a moment ago soured in her stomach. She hugged herself, hands on her shoulders, arms crossed over her breasts and looked up at the cieling, the white foam panels the same as it every school she had ever been in. Taking a deep breath, telling herself she wasn't upset, she made a little wall of ice around herself and looked him dead in the eye.

"If you think I'm too young or whatever," she said, her throat so tight she could barely hear herself, "that's fine. But I don't think it's ridiculous, and neither do you." She tried to shoot a cold glance at his crotch to make her point, but the glance lingered.

 

[Lucifers Tongue]

The change in Miranda's posture and body language was enough to tell Brant that he'd said the wrong thing...or the right thing, depending on what he wanted to happen. The truth was he did want something to happen, right then, right there, he just didn't know what. More and more, he was beginning to suspect that Miranda wanted something to happen, too.

"If you think I'm too young or whatever, that's fine. But I don't think it's ridiculous, and neither do you," she said, her voice, which was probably intended to sound apathetic, betrayed the fact that he had hurt her feelings.

"I'm sorry, Miranda," he said, his voice more sure now, more confident. "When I said it was ridiculous, I just meant that a girl as attractive as you probably wouldn't be interested in an older man like myself."

"Obviously, I'm attracted to you," he said, glancing down at the erection in his pants, where she seemed to once again be focused. "The truth is I haven't stopped thinking about you since you walked into my class yesterday."

 

[mirandavillere]

Since she walked into his class yesterday. It seemed like such a long time ago, and it had been. It had been a rough landing in a new school, and it seemed like everything possible had gone wrong for her. She sighed, letting her arms relax and her hands rest in her lap. She raised her eyes to look up into his face, and smiled to herself. How could he think she wouldn't be interested in a man as handsome and mature and intelligent as him?

She sat up again, leaning towards him again, giving him an eyeful. She felt her cheeks get hot, blushing. She wasn't used to teasing like this. Most of the time she tried not to think about her body as a sexual thing, but this was different. Mr. Heller might be the only good thing to happen to her this whole year, and she didn't want to put him off by being too moody.

She turned and glanced over her shoulder at the clock, wondering how much longer the period was. She felt another surge of hot blood rush to her cheeks. She could hardly believe she was thinking about a teacher this way, and in the middle of the day. She pressed her thighs together, trying to seal in the heat she felt flooding between them, trying to stop herself from squirming.

Mr. Heller was watching her, waiting. Just like when he had asked her who her favorite author was. She smiled to herself. She hadn't known it at the time, but she had given just the right answer.

"What have you been thinking about me?" she whispered, looking up at him, lips trembling.

 

[Lucifers Tongue]

Brant hesitated to answer Miranda's question, still considering whether he should simply deflect to avoid putting either of them in a potentially uncomfortable situation. Then again, wasn't the situation already uncomfortable. The alternative was that he take a chance, and everything about Miranda's words and her body language was telling him to do just that.

"Things that a teacher shouldn't think about one of his students," he finally answered, as he sat back down on the edge of the desk. "Very, very naughty things," he admitted, unable to keep from smiling at her.