Extra Credit Assignment

With that, she started today's lesson, and wrote several points on the blackboard. I noticed that her skirt today was a tan colour, and just a few inches shorter than the knee-length ones she had worn so far. I also noticed that from my new, angled perspective, her boobs swung considerably as she wrote.

She gave us some assigned reading, and began to do her rounds of the class, sitting with each student individually to discuss their assignments from last week. It took a few minutes for her to make her way to me.

"André?" she smiled, touching me on the shoulder. She glanced over to Pam, who was reading, and sat down next to me. "Trouble between you two?"

"Apparently. We are no longer one," I replied softly.

"Too bad," she smiled, reassuringly. "Now, about your assignment. You're really doing much better. Your descriptions are more vibrant, and it's easier to see what you're trying to write. One thing, though. We have a saying among writers.... Eiffel tower clear.... to describe the level of specificity we want. It means, if I describe something as a tower, I'm leaving a lot of latitude in the reader's mind. He or she might get a mental picture of the Leaning Tower of Piza, or the CN tower, or any number of different, tower like structures."

"But, if I say tower, and describe the steel, so many pieces, held together with rivets.... I describe the elegant curve, arcing skyward, the stark blackness against a bright summer day...." she paused, holding her fingers aloft, and a hopeful look on her face.

That face was quite pretty. Her eyes most certainly were, with their dark green colour, framed by the flaming red of her hair. She looked like Christmas. I won't even get into the gifts I'd like to unwrap, which were stretching the fabric of her blouse taut, as they always did.

"Right. Eiffel tower clarity. Got it," I nodded. She smiled, and I watched her slide silently out of the desk, and walk to the next student. Her ass was divine, from this range, and I was free to check her out all I wanted to, now that Pam was no longer as issue.

Speaking of Pam, I looked in her direction, and found her glaring back at me. It was unclear whether the glare was disapproving of my wandering eyes, my presence, or my general existence. Perhaps all three.

***

With class ending for the night, Pam was the first to leave, gathering her books and bolting out the door with a passing sneer for me. The others followed, one by one, until I was the last yet to leave. Virginia looked at me quizzically.

"Is there a question, André?" she asked, pausing her own packing of books.

"No. Just thought I'd give her a good head start, so I don't get yelled at again," I said.

"Ah, yes. The drama," she smiled, taking a seat on the edge of her desk. She crossed her legs, and leaned back on her hand casually. "What happened, anyway? You were a cute couple. If you don't mind me asking, of course?"

I felt compelled to tell her. Maybe not the whole sordid story, but there was something about her that was very.... Relaxing.

"Oh, um, let's just call it a question of motives," I replied.

"Repairable?" she asked.

"Probably not," I shook my head. My eyes wandered up those legs, cursing the darkness that blocked my view past mid-thigh.

"Oh well," she shrugged, sliding forward off the desk. Her skirt bunched up a bit, and just for an instant, I could see the creamy goodness of her smooth inner thigh, mere inches from nirvana. "Plenty of fish, as they say, and you're an attractive young man. I'm sure you'll find someone."

"Thanks, Virginia," I laughed, and scooped up my gear. "See you next Wednesday."

***

A week later, I was anxious to get to class.

There were multiple reasons for my attitude, and Pam was not among them.

First, and most surprisingly, I was, actually, enjoying the class. Who knew? I had done reasonably well in high school English class, and was learning to write better than I ever thought I could. And, no, the reason I was enjoying the class had nothing to do with the instructor.

She was, however, one of the reasons that I was anxious to be there. Especially with Pam out of the picture, if not the class. As I finally found out during our one and only sexual experience together, Pam's body was indeed very lovely, and she was a spirited and energetic partner. From what I could see, Virginia had her beat, hands down, in the curves department.

Perhaps, I might even get to do the same evaluation in the bedroom. One can only hope.

Pam barely acknowledged my existence when she entered the classroom. I wasn't sure if she would be here or not, but I suppose she was making a point. My presence wouldn't change her life. She wouldn't give me that much power.

I was reading, when the flash of red hair caught my eye as Virginia breezed in. I glanced up, and swallowed hard.

I don't know if you've noticed, but some women can show a lot of skin, yet not really catch your eye. Others can be covered, and attract a wistful gaze like a magnet draws steel. Virginia was in the latter category. She was stunning.

Her hair, usually up in some sort of arrangement, was down and loose, floating in gentle waves around her shoulders. She was dressed in her usual impeccable style, although tonight was much more flattering, in my opinion. A snug, pencil-style skirt, black with a textured front panel, hugged her hips and thighs. It was cut a couple of inches below the knee, necessitating a lengthy slit that let her legs play peek-a-boo as she walked. It was very sexy.

Up top, she completed the monochrome look with a black satin blouse, unbuttoned just far enough to let her cleavage play the same game her legs were, hiding most of the time, but available for a subtle glimpse, should you be lucky enough to be paying attention. The overhead fluorescent lights cast interesting streaks across the shiny curves of her chest. She glanced at me, gawking at her, and suppressed a smug smile.

There was a class to teach, of course, and she did so, although I really couldn't tell you what we covered. I was distracted, completely, by Virginia, and she seemed to be enjoying that fact. I say that, because she knew I was watching her, and did nothing to discourage me.

Sitting at her desk, legs crossed, the slit in her skirt gave me a good look at several inches of smooth thigh. She caught me eyeing her legs, and merely turned her chair slightly, letting me see them better, dangling her shoe off her foot with a playful bounce.

A few minutes later, she was writing something on the board, and turned back to the book open on her desk. Placing a hand either side of the book, she bent over slightly, giving me a clean view of her cleavage. She even gave her upper arms a little squeeze as she stood up, squishing those round globes together a bit more.

If she wasn't flirting with me, she was doing a remarkable impression of it. Still, I wasn't sure until I caught her looking my direction. She tapped her pen against her lips, and smiled slightly.

The clock told us that class was over, and Pam once again led the way out of the room, causing the rest to follow suit. This time, Virginia and I were already looking at each other by the time the last student filed out.

"So, Andre?" she smiled, crossing her arms below her impressive bust-line, and causing her breasts to bulge upward even more. "In the last week, have you been doing any fishing?"

"Hmmmm? Oh! Right. Not really," I laughed, enjoying the word play.

"Hmmm, so, if I were to invite you to...." she sat forward, making direct eye contact, ".... fish.... with me, would you be interested? Purely catch and release, you understand."

"Of course. Yes, I'd like to fish with you. Catch and release is just what I had in mind, right now," I nodded.

"Well then, I suggest we go get some bait," she purred. "I know just the place."

The walk out, down the dimly lit, empty hallways, was slow and silent. When we arrived at the parking lot, she turned to me.

"I'll lead. You follow?" she asked, putting her key in the car door. I stepped closer, and pinned her between the door and my chest. She looked into my eyes, and let me kiss her gently.

Her lips were every bit as soft as they looked, and tasted of strawberries. Her hand touched my cheek.

"I'm hungry, and I like to fish in comfort," she giggled, looking down sheepishly. "No need to rush, honey. We're going to bed tonight. Let's get to know each other a bit first."

I nodded, and headed for my car. She was waiting at the exit, and led me to a quiet little restaurant nearby. As we stood, waiting to be seated, she leaned back against me, rubbing her backside across my semi-erect bulge.

"Hmmmm," she giggled. "That's what I'm talking about!"

I had my hand on her hip as we were led through the restaurant, into a dark corner. It was the perfect place for two people discover each other. We settled into the booth, and cast hungry glances across the table.

"I feel like I should make something clear, before we proceed too much further," Virginia said directly. "I'm not normally this foreword. I don't just fall into bed with random strangers every night. Occasionally, but not every night. But you've been looking at me with those dark, sensuous eyes for a month now, even when you were sitting beside your girlfriend. I've been around enough to know what those looks mean. I was flattered, and intrigued."

"Virginia, I would think everyone would look at you that way," I replied. "You're a very beautiful, sexy, curvaceous woman. Have you seen yourself lately?"

"Yes, I have," she smiled. "I've even seen me naked, thank you, and maybe I'm too critical, I'll admit, but...."

I touched her hand, causing her to stop abruptly and look down.

"No excuses. I don't care what others may have put in your head. I'm here with you, tonight, so let's just enjoy ourselves," I said, in a low tone.

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. Finally, she nodded, and smiled.

"Tell me more about André," she asked, putting her elbows on the table, and resting her chin on her hands. I didn't for a second believe that she didn't know what this position did to her tits, putting them on display in the open neckline of her blouse.

I gave her the quick version.... Single, grew up nearby, went to college, got a job with an engineering company, blah, blah, blah.

"So, I'm curious as to what exactly happened between you and Pamela," she smiled when I finished my bio. "I'd love to hear it, if you want to share."

"Oh, it's the same old story," I laughed. "Boy meets girl, girl asks boy out, girl tells boy she wants to go slow...."

"Now there's an overrated strategy," she giggled. "My ex-husband and I dated for two months before we slept together. Two years before we got married. And he still cheated on me, several times. Sorry.... Please continue."

"Okay. Boy wants to see girl more often, to speed up the process. Offers to take a class with her, to spend more time together," I recapped.

"Very sweet, if his motivation was pure," she nodded.

"Not so much. He was still looking to score. When he finally did, afterward, they were talking, and it kind of slipped out about him taking the course, just to spend more time with her."

"And she interpreted that the wrong way?" she asked.

"Depends on your point of view. He wasn't looking for a one night stand, but the waiting for his ultimate goal, was killing him," I finished.

"Kicked you out of bed, did she?" Virginia laughed.

"Yup, and it was partly your fault," I replied, pointing at her accusingly.

"My fault?" she asked, sitting back suddenly. She put her hand to her ample chest in surprise.

"In a way. You made that crayon comment about my writing. It was funny, but she took it to the next level. Got me a box crayons. Crayola. 64 of them. That's what we were talking about in bed when she found out why I took your course," I told her.

Virginia was trying desperately to stifle a laugh, hiding behind both hands. Her chest was quivering as she did so, until she couldn't hold it back any longer.

"Oh, my god!" she howled. "I'm so sorry, but that's the funniest thing I've heard in a long time!" She gradually brought herself back under control, and took a deep breath. I couldn't help but watch her breasts swell with the inhale.

"Your turn," I said. "What are you doing teaching creative writing in night school? What's your day job? I assume you're a teacher?"

"Nope. Not even close," she smiled, looking at me with hooded eyes. "I'm trying to decide if I should tell you my deep, dark secret. Hmmmm," she sighed, tapping her lips with her fingertip in thought. "Oh, what the hell. Now, this is just between us, okay?"

"It's that juicy?" I laughed.

"Mmmmm, yes. Just remember that particular turn of phrase," she nodded.

"Okay, I promise, under penalty of a kick in the balls, to keep my mouth shut," I said, raising my right hand for the oath.

Virginia reached into her bag, rummaged for a few seconds until she found what she was looking for, then paused for a final decision. Finally, she pulled her hand out, and tossed something on the table.

It was a book. More specifically, a romance novel.

"Oh, I just love that book," the waitress said, arriving just as I was picking it up. She was a very pretty blonde, and proceeded to gush about how she's read all of the author's books, and how she loves the characters, the love, the sex, blah, blah.

Since we had been talking and hadn't opened the menu, the waitress, Kim, waited for us to make our choices. She picked up the book, and leafed through the pages, finding a particular section.

"My favourite part," she said, handing the book to Virginia.

"Mmmmm, yes, mine too," Virginia smiled. "Doesn't it just make you...?

"Oh, yeah," Kim giggled. "My boyfriend laughs at me for reading these stories, but he doesn't complain when I jump on him."

The two women cackled happily, discussing the story, and how it made them horny. Finally, with our orders taken, Kim left us alone.

"That's your deep dark secret? You read trashy romance novels?" I asked, plucking the book out of her fingers, and scanning the open pages. I did a double take, as certain words drew my attention. It was a pretty graphic description of a man taking a woman, and I do mean 'taking'. The woman was definitely enjoying it.

Virginia was just looking at me, grinning, when I glanced up.

"Pretty hot, huh?" she asked.

"Well, um, yes," I admitted. "I've never read one of these before. Maybe I'll have to start. So, as I was saying, that's your secret?"

"Yes," she smiled.

"That's not so deep and dark," I replied, sliding the book back toward her. "The waitress reads them. No big deal."

"André," she said softly, leaning forward slightly. Her boobs rested on the table, and I noticed that another button was undone, showing me more of her delicious cleft. "My secret isn't that I read those books. It's that I write them."

Say what? I took the book back, flipping it over. On the cover, under the illustration of the buxom blonde being held by the handsome stud, was a name, but it didn't say Virginia Brody. It said 'Angel Silver'.

"You're Angel Silver?" I asked, a little louder than I meant to, and louder than she wanted to hear it. She crossed her arms angrily.

"Yes, dumb ass. What part of 'secret' don't you understand?" she hissed.

"Sorry," I nodded, glancing around. It didn't appear that anyone had heard, least of all Kim, who was nowhere in sight. "You're her?" I whispered.

"That's right. That's my day job," she giggled, relaxing again. "That's also why I teach creative writing. It's just fun to help others express their imagination."

I had opened the book again, to the part Kim had pointed out, and was reading it more closely. The male character was fucking the woman senseless, in several positions, and more than one room.

"You write this all day?" I asked, picturing her at her computer, tapping the keyboard.

"Well, it's not all sex scenes," she explained, taking the book back, and tossing it in her bag. "There's more to the story than just getting the characters laid."

"Does writing it make you, um.... Sticky?" I chuckled.

"Sticky?" she laughed. "It gets me downright soaked! That's one of my benchmarks. If it makes me wet, and makes me masturbate, then it will probably do the same to other women. Men too, I suppose, although I know my target audience is mostly female. So, if I'm wet, it'll sell."

"The Virginia Brody seal of approval, huh?" I smiled. "Do you ever, um, fictionalize, your real life? Write about real partners?"

"Maybe," she blushed. "Are you offering to give me something to write about?"

"Absolutely!" I grinned.

"Well, then.... We'd better eat, because we're both going to need our energy tonight," she growled, shifting in her seat anxiously.

***

There was really no doubt that we were feeling the excitement of our first time together. You know the feeling I mean, when all the maneuvering and pretense is over with, and you both just accept that it's going to happen, because you want it to.

I'm not talking about the 'thank god, at last' emotion of your first 'first time'. That was wonderful, to be sure, but it was too new to evaluate honestly.

What I'm describing is something you've felt before. It's familiar, and profound. It's permission to act on your desires, with someone who feels them too.

So, when we arrived at her apartment building, I was right behind her every step of the way. It was late, so there was no one else around, but she reminded me to behave until we were safely into her space.

"Ever done it in an elevator?" I asked as we stepped in.

"No, and I'm not going to, tonight, either," she smiled, pressing the appropriate button for her floor, and pressing closer to me. "You can kiss me though."

As alternate choices go, I could have done a lot worse. Her lips were very expressive this time, our second kiss. This one was much more than an introductory peck. She had me backed into the corner, and she was in control, starting the kiss, and determining its speed of escalation. I looked into her eyes, those deep green wells of soulful sexiness, as her lips parted, and her tongue came out to play. All too quickly, the ride was over.

"Now, I really need you to mind your manners until we're inside. I've got a neighbour who just lives for gossip. She's also an old stick in the mud, and if she sees us fooling around, it will be all over the building in minutes," Virginia whispered.

"So, I take it she doesn't know your secret, Ms. Silver?" I whispered back, keeping my hands to myself.

"Ha! No! I'm sure she'd be leading a lynch mob if she did, " she smiled.

The lock on her door succumbed to her key, allowing us inside. It was a nice, if basic apartment. Virginia put her purse and keys down, and leaned against the wall.

"Well, we're safe," I said softly. "No lynch mob in here, after your neck. Just me."

Virginia grinned, and turned her head, pulling her hair aside as she did. It was a clear invitation, and I RSVP'd with my lips.

"Mmmmm hmmm," she moaned, her hands on my shoulders as I nibbled her neck softly, up and down, and around her ear. "That's nice. I've always had a soft spot for having my neck nuzzled."

"Any other.... soft spots?" I asked, kissing her cheek.

"Mmmmm," she giggled, "several, including the two I'm sure you're interested in." Her fingertips played lightly across the open neck of her blouse. She reached down, and flicked another button open, revealing another two or three inches of incredible feminine flesh to my gaze. "Now, do we just rip each other's clothes off, right here, or.....?"