Professorial Privilege

Professorial Privilege    
      
    Poised at the chalkboard she writes formulas wearing a mini-skirt. Her derriere is barely concealed and she dips daintily down at the waist.  She is a scholar and a seductress with a figure more beautiful than any algebraic equation. My mind is mesmerized by her curves. My eyes are led astray from Pythagorean Theorem. Perhaps she is a feminist saboteur playing on vulnerable male libidos.        
     A man protests that her dress drives him to distraction. Her non-compliance is expressed by silence as she obdurately prances. Clad as provocative temptress, her catwalk slips teacher taboo into my schoolboy fantasy. While the proselytes of math leave, she says, “Hey John, stay here for a few moments.”        
     Soon the classroom is empty except for her and me. She says, “Pardon me, my expertise is in math but I am a klutz with keeping my shoes tied.” I stand behind her while she dips like a bittern with her tail raised. The lure of her blue jean skirted bottom entices me into Xanadu. Her hips are cocked in a derriere dare.      
     She stands again and says, “Listen, John, there is no reason you can’t be an A student in algebra.” She grabs a ruler, holds it horizontally and raises it up into verticality. “You just need coaxing to raise your GPA. Do you get my meaning?      
     She says, “Listen to me closely, I know my form tickles your testicles until you can’t help yourself, but this is a college classroom and we need to solve the ultimate equation of girl professor meets undergrad boy. Your eyes are fixed on my legs for the entire class. I’m a woman. I know when a man is ogling me. Listen, I know I’m wearing a mini skirt which is rather revealing. But can’t you control yourself? I mean get a grip. I’m not going to fuck you, so why all this attention on a hopeless prospect? You realize all your classmates are witnessing this.”      
     “Do you want me to drop out of your class?” I say.      
     “Can you simply keep your eyes somewhere else? Jeez. Do you think because you’re among over a hundred other students you can get away with lechery on little ole me? Why can’t you just own up to this? All I’m asking is that you stop peeping at my legs. It is a simple request. Just do it. No need for all your pomposity. I won’t tell the dean if you quit it” she says.      
     “I may have gazed at your legs too long at times. But you have exaggerated this all out of proportion” I reply.      
     “Maybe you need a spanking? I mean that’s what we do with naughty boys” she replies.      
     “Well then put me in my place. But before you paddle my bottom please give me one more chance to get my act together.”      
     “Methinks you had such schemes in mind from the start. You have used trickery as an artifice toward your desired outcome. The plot thickens. But I bet something else is thickening. Now my dainty fingers will be employed to unzip you and divest you of those jeans. Now it is my turn to gaze upon your sugar plums. If you do this I won’t tell anyone else. It will be our little secret. I want you over my lap.”      
     “Yes, mistress.”        
     “Your pose is one of a trained man. You must have experience. I wasn’t expecting that” she says.        
     “My education on this subject comes from reading. I’ve never had the privilege of a real-life study” I say.  
     “The way you demurred to the girls in class discussion told me you were a submissive. That’s how you turned me on in class. But your voyeurism is outrageous. You need discipline. So just lie across my lap and take your licks. Young man here comes your first real lesson in this class.” Slap!      
     “Ooh! Ah! This is a real education. I’m going to scream if you keep this up. Wowza! Oh my God! There I go into wonderland! Keep them coming, my queen. I’ve been a very bad boy. Oh, la la! The heat! The Heat! I’m melting.”      
     “Now I don’t mind you staring at my legs but just think of those young women who are viable mates. Of course, if you are determined to let me vie for your attention with this class full of hotties well then I would be remiss in not engaging you in hanky-panky.”      
     “Professor Judy, my loyalty is to your professional standing and your future. I would never taint your reputation in this fine institution of higher learning. But I must confess that despite the other women here, you are the apple of my eye. And all I have to offer you as your student is the sacrifice of my virginity on the altar of your academic prowess.”        
     With a closing swat, she says, “My acolyte once defrocked there is no telling what your reward might be.”
     She pats me on my bottom. “Now I’ll give you a glut massage as a dessert to help you ascend into an A. Just hold that position.” She massages both cheeks of my posterior with the symmetry of a perfectly conceived formula.        
     “Ambient music creates an atmosphere conducive to learning. And I have a collection of sensory enhancing soundscapes to melt your mind into pure corporeality. Let’s take this conversation to my place.” How could I refuse?