After Class

Part 1

You spent 6 days studying, lost countless hours of sleep, of texting, of a life. He hates you, you think. I'll never pass, what's the point.

The bell rings and you walk into class ready to accept your failed test. That's what you get; a 69 and a note to see him after class.

"Shit, my parents are going to find out AGAIN! I am going to get killed!" You mumble under your breath. This can't be happening to you.

Everyone passed as far as you can see. The smart blonde infront of you passed, she got a 93. Nerdy next to you got a 100. Computer geek across the room can't keep his mouth shut, so now you know he got a 84.

Maybe he meant 96. Maybe he flipped the numbers accidentally. Maybe it was all a just silly mistake. Just this once.

Mr. Harris goes over the test with the class and with each question you got wrong, you fill in the corrections.You try to understand what you didn't before. You try to justify your mistakes.

Before you know it, class ends.

As everyone shuffles out, you slow your movements and linger behind. Mr. Harris can see what you are doing and closes the door.

And locks it.

And draws the shades.

And clears his desk.

"Sit," he says.

You move towards the chair infront of his dest.

"On the desk," he tells you.

Nervously, you scootch onto his cleared desk and look up at him. "Is there a way I can get extra credit or something? I tried really hard! I studied forever! I just can't do it!" You try to explain to him your grade but he doesn't listen.

"Complaining won't help you." he says sternly.

You shut up.

He circles around the desk and when he gets back to you, he places a hand on your shoulder. You shiver.

"Now. You will do as I say and never repeat this. If you do this well, you will receive a high curve on your grade." He continues circling around and I listen hard. "I think an 80 sounds good. If you succeed, I will change your semester grade to an 80."

I am so excited. I can do this. I WILL do this. I need this grade more than I ever needed anything. This grade will determine my GPA. This grade will deeper mine which collage I get into. This grade can potentially change my future.

"What do I have to do?"

He responds by taking off his belt.

I gulp.

His belt is off and he inches closer to me. He places a hand on my hand and pulls it towards his zipper.

I understand.

Silently, without looking him in the face, I slowly unzip his pants. I stick my hand into his boxers and pull out a dick.

His dick.

My fucking teacher's dick.