Hot for Teacher

We weren’t even halfway into the semester yet and already I was looking forward to my fiction writing class more than I probably should have been.

Way more.

Sure, it was a great class. It wasn’t a requirement for non-majors and so most students actually wanted to be there. It wasn’t a gigantic class, either, as some English classes tended to be at the university level. It was maybe thirty students, which was very manageable.

The professor was articulate and talented and, as a writer herself, she practiced what she preached.

But, frankly, the subject matter could have been chemistry or history or the civil rights of the kosher dill pickle for all I cared. The professor was hot. Too hot for me to be working in such close proximity with her for such a long time, so many times a week. I was starting to worry I wouldn’t be able to hide it from the students much longer.

Her name was Lisa Kushner and I was her Teacher’s Assistant. The first time we met was in her office a week before classes began. She handed me the syllabus and a cup of hot tea, and we talked about her teaching philosophy and the ways in which I could be of use to her. I managed to hear most of what she said while I was fantasizing about the many other ways in which I knew I could be of use.

“You’re a grad student?”

“Yes, I’m thinking of going into teaching myself.”

“It’s not a romantic profession,” Professor Kushner told me. “But I’ve never regretted it.”

“No regrets. That’s the way to live.”

“It certainly is, Alice.”

That was when I realized she’d caught me staring at her cleavage. I remember going right home that afternoon and calling up Rickie.

“Rickie, baby, I’m so fucked.”

“Hey, girl!” Rickie answered in her typical cheerful fashion. I’d known Rickie a long time. She had a bad day once in a while, but a bad day for Rickie was usually remedied by one of two things. Chocolate, or sex. And she never seemed to have any trouble finding a Milky Way or a mr.Goodbar.

“Rickie, the professor...”

“Oh, girlfriend, I can hear it in your voice,” Rickie said, sounding sympathetic. “You need some TLC.”

“I so do.”

Half an hour later Rickie was sitting on the end of my bed, painting my toenails a scary hooker red.

“I don’t know about that color,” I said uncertainly, but Rickie waved her hand at me.

“Red is classic. Red makes a woman feel hot.”

I snorted at Rickie. “Like you know anything about dating women.”

Rickie gave me a haughty look. “I aspire to be one, darling, I’ve done extensive research.”

Well I couldn’t argue with her. She was the one saving money for her transition after all, it was entirely possible she did know more about women than I did. The only research I had done was a careful and in depth examination of Professor Kushner’s ass. Mmm. And her--

“So does she have great boobs?”

“Funny you should ask, Rickie, I was just thinking about them.”

“Round, perky?”

“Firm, just a little too big.”

“My God, Alice, you’re such a chauvinist.”

“This should come as no surprise to you.” Any more than it ought to surprise me that Rickie asked about them. She had a book of boobs that she put together as part of her transition research that contained the cleavage of close to a hundred women, ranging from movie star tits to those of women she knew, including mine.

Which were too small for my own liking.

“Name?”

“Lisa.”

“Age?”

“What? Are you writing a book?”

“I can’t advise you accurately without all the details.” Rickie set my foot down and picked up the other one.

“Your advice is always the same, Rickie.” I raised my hand and tapped her on the shoulder. “If she’s hot and single,” I said, imitating Rickie’s sweet, light voice, “go for it, honey.”

“Honey, if you don’t trust my advice, why do you ask?”

I sighed. “Okay, okay. So she’s, I don’t know, maybe thirty-five? Forty tops.”

“Nice. In her prime.” Rickie nodded her approval.

“Will you stop? I have to work with her!”

“Oh, Alice, sweetheart. You’ve got it bad, don’t you? You’re really fighting this.”

“I do not have it bad. She’s hot, is all.”

“Is she single?”

“As far as I know... no ring or anything.”

“Then go for it, honey!” Rickie beamed at me.

“See? You’re no help.”

“Oh, hush now. Flash those baby blues at her, sweetheart, and she’ll be all yours.”

“Rickie, why do you assume the whole world is gay?”

“Because if they’re not, they ought to be.”

I laughed. “Someone has to breed up more men for you to chase after, you know.”

“That’s what test tubes are for.”

Rickie had an irresistible way about her. No matter what came out of her mouth, you simply had to agree.

The second time I saw Lisa -- Professor Kushner -- was at the very first class. I handed out the syllabi as she introduced me as her ‘lovely assistant’. I sat kind of off in a corner of the room, waiting for her to break the class up into groups or to ask me to do something, neither of which took place. Instead, she lectured for the full hour and twenty minutes and then assigned a writing project and sent the students on their way.

I packed up my bag and hiked it up on my shoulder. “See you Thursday,” I said as I headed for the door.

“Alice, could you wait a minute?”

“Sure!” I said, far too cheerfully. I was thinking, ‘would you like me over the desk?’

She didn’t. Instead, she pulled out her cell phone and asked me for my number. “And here’s mine,” she said, rattling numbers off to me to put into my phone as well. “I want to be able to get in touch with you over the weekend.”

“Sure, of course.”

“Or if I can’t make it in for some reason.”

“Right. No problem.”

“Do you like Italian?”

I raised an eyebrow. “I do.”

“Good,” she said. “See you Thursday.” Professor Kushner left the room, leaving me to stand there and watch her ass again. Woe is me.

That night I couldn’t take it. I finished my studying, I watched an hour of Jay Leno, and then I turned out the light, but despite the late hour I couldn’t get to sleep. I’d noticed that afternoon that Professor Kushner had brown eyes, a deep, rich, bottomless color. I dug my little pocket rocket out of my bedside table and let my fantasies win, just for the short time it took for me to come. The phallus vibrated against my body, its humming traveled through my hips and up my spine. I held it tight in my fist and drew it hard and fast across my clit as if I were jerking off.

“Fuck, yes,” I growled into the darkness. “Come on!”

The friction was driving me nuts, drawing heat into my cunt and making my legs tense and my knees draw up until it finally drove me mercifully past the point of no return. I know I cried out, I always do, but this time there was a name I shouldn’t be uttering in that manner on my lips, and brown eyes taunted me, laughed at me, flashed their inherent heat at me until I could breathe again.

They faded, along with consciousness.

Thursday came and went. Professor Kushner wore a conservative skirt, but the heels on her brown suede boots shouted “fuck me, Alice,” and it was all I could do to keep from rubbing my thighs together while she lectured. I practically ran from the classroom that afternoon, not waiting to discuss the lesson plan for the following week.

As it turned out, that defensive move worked in my favor -- if you consider what happened next favorable. Some would call it foolish, and they would probably be right.

My cell phone rang at ten Saturday morning. I answered it without looking at the caller ID as I was sure it was Rickie calling about our usual Saturday morning brunch and gossip session.

“You sound sleepy, I hope I didn’t wake you,” came a smooth voice over the line.

“Hm? No, no, I was... I’m awake,” I lied.

“This is Lisa.”

Lisa. Lisa... it took me far longer than it would take an actually awake person to find the meaning behind the name. “Good morning, Professor Kushner.”

“Hmm. I’d rather you use my name,” she said in a low tone.

“Okay. Good morning, Lisa,” I purred at her. It was right about then that I woke up enough to understand what was going on. “I... uh...” I started stammering like an idiot. “Can I help you? Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine, Alice. I was hoping you might be able to meet with me to discuss the lesson plan for next week.”

“Oh! Oh. Yes. Yes, of course I can do that.” Lesson plans, I reminded myself hastily. Meet up, discuss business, come home and cry to Rickie. Got it? No funny stuff.

“Great. How about seven o’clock at my place? I know you like Italian.”

I swallowed so hard she must have heard it on the other end of the line.

“Alice?”

“Uh... yes. Yes, okay. Seven o’clock.”

“Sixteen Brewster. White house with black shutters.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Wonderful. I’m looking forward to it.”

She hung up the phone. It was plainly obvious to me that neither of us was interested in discussing lesson plans tonight. It took me five tries to dial Rickie because my hands were shaking so hard.

“Date.”

“What?” Rickie had loud music going in the background and she sounded out of breath.

“Date, Rickie.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. No. My hands are shaking.”

“Oh, my God.” The music shut off abruptly. “I was just working out, sweetie. Let me shower and I’ll be right over. Don’t do anything drastic,” she told me and then hung up.

Her admonishment had more meaning behind it than you might think. The last time I had a date that made my hands shake I decided in my hormone-induced hysteria that I hated my hair so much I should cut it all off. Myself.

Needless to say, that had been a terrible, sobering disaster.

I opened my closet door and stood there staring into it. My heart was pounding in my chest. I had nothing to wear. Professor Kushner -- Lisa -- was always so well put together and I looked like... well, I looked like a struggling grad student. Which is exactly what I was.

Rickie saved me just as I’d decided to take everything out of the closet in desperation.

“Whoa! Whoa, girlfriend! Step away from the closet.”

I threw my hands in the air like I was being arrested.

“Now.”

I stepped backward.

“One more.”

I stepped back again and my knees hit the bed. They buckled and I sat heavily.

“I don’t want to know what you were thinking,” Rickie said, picking up the pile of clothing that was still on hangers on the floor and hanging them back up. “I told you not to do anything drastic.”

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“I suppose I should be glad that you didn’t get out the scissors again.”

“Rickie, I want her.”

“I know, baby. Tell me what happened.”

“She called me and woke me up. I thought it was you.”

“Oops. Did you call her ‘baby’ or ‘darling’?”

I sighed. “No, thank God.”

“Good. Now, what did she say?” Rickie was pawing at my clothing, comparing fabrics and colors and who knew what else. She seemed to be channeling some ethereal offspring of Carson Kressley and Magnum P.I.

“She said... she said she wanted me to call her Lisa, and invited me to her house tonight at seven to discuss lesson plans over Italian food.”

“Wow.”

I nodded.

“Well, sister Alice,” Rickie said, turning away from my closet with several outfits in her hands. “We have our work cut out for us.”

Rickie did my hair, my make up and dressed me. It was nothing dressy or fancy, but I was so nervous that if it hadn’t been for her, at seven o’clock I’d have probably been sitting on my bathroom floor in tears. As it was, I was still two blocks away.

“I’m late,” I said miserably into the phone.

“Alice, sweetheart, this is sex. The anticipation makes everything sweeter. You’re hot, I promise. Get off the phone.”

Rickie always knew just what to say. “Thanks, baby.”

“I love you. Now go get laid before you explode.”

“I love you, too,” I said, smiling as I hung up.

Lisa’s house was large, and by large I mean enormous. This was no white house with black shutters, it was a fucking Victorian mansion. It was set off from the street by a gate and a long white fence. The lawn was impeccably green and the walkway up to the front door was lined with colorful flowers. The front porch was wide and stately and led to double front doors, one of which was standing open and letting out warm light.

I knocked, feeling a little small.

Lisa appeared moments later, smiling as she held open the screen door. “Hello, Alice.”

I blinked, thinking maybe I was seeing things. The professor who was usually so professionally put together was dressed casually in khaki pants and a soft brown v-neck sweater that complimented her eyes. With her hair down and wavy around her shoulders, I could see that it was actually auburn, lighter and redder than I had thought. She was beautiful. I don’t know how long I might have stared if she hadn’t interrupted my thoughts.

“Coming in?”

“Oh. Sorry I’m late.”

Lisa waved a hand. “Pfft. You’re not late.” I felt her eyes on me as the door swung closed. “You look... stunning. I love that sundress.”

I blushed. I’d have been embarrassed, but something told me she liked it. “This old thing?” I winked.

“Thanks for coming.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

Lisa watched me for a moment and then nodded once, smiling. “Come on, dinner’s almost ready.”

I noticed with smug satisfaction as we moved through the house to the kitchen that there were no lesson plans anywhere in sight.

“This is a great house.”

Lisa smiled, leaning over the stove to stir something. “I love it. It’s really too big for just me, but I can’t give it up.”

“I can understand why. It must take a lot of work, though.”

“Well, gardening is a hobby I adore, fortunately, and I’m pretty handy with a hammer and a screwdriver. I manage okay.”

I peered out the kitchen window at the back yard. It was larger than the front yard: wider, and deeper, too. There was a big patio right behind the house and a vegetable garden off to the right.

Lisa appeared at my side. “The asparagus is from the garden, um... the tomatoes and the bib lettuce, too.” She touched the small of my back with a warm hand. “Sound good?”

I turned my head and met her eyes. “Sounds great.”

“Great.” She moved away again.

“Can I help with anything?”

“Nope, just have a seat,” she said. “Oh, actually, yes. Can you open the wine?”

“Yep.” I took the bottle opener she handed me and headed into the dining room. She’d set two places, one at the head of the table and one off to the right. I opened the wine and was setting it out to breathe when she came out, hands full of food.

“Hand me the--”

I reached for a hot plate before she finished her request.

“Thank you.”

“This all smells amazing.”

“Homemade spinach and feta ravioli, garlic marinara...”

“Amazing.”

“Sit down, please.”

I sat, eager to taste, pleased to discover that at some point I’d lost the nervousness I’d been feeling all day. Probably as soon as Lisa smiled at me at the front door.

Dinner was unbelievable. I must have told her so ten times as I savored the smooth flavor of the ravioli and dug into her garden fresh salad. We made small talk; Lisa asked about my folks and about my studies and I asked her about the house and how long she’d been teaching. But all of it was so clearly just to pass the time. Neither of us even skimmed the surface of what we both seemed to know was going to happen after dinner.

It occurred to me suddenly that Lisa might not be saying anything on purpose. I didn’t know anything about academic politics, but it was possible that she wasn’t free to make the first move without reproach. And frankly, even if she could have, I was tired of waiting.

“So I, uh... I forgot my lesson books.”

“I noticed that when you arrived.”

“I didn’t see any of your work out, either.”

Lisa swallowed. “No. No, I suppose not.”

“I watched your ass all through class on Thursday.”

“I know.”

We stood up at the same time. I don’t know who reached for whom first, but we were suddenly in an embrace, kissing at first and then tasting each other’s skin. “God, Lisa.”

“Alice.”

I pushed my hands up under her sweater and she tugged my dress up over my hips. The next thing I knew I was pressed up against the edge of her dining room table. My shoulder straps were down around my elbows and Lisa’s sweater was... somewhere. Probably on the floor.

“Want you, Alice.” She pulled my panties off and went to her knees.

“Oh, fuck.” I was already having trouble breathing before her tongue touched me. “Oh!” I spread my legs wide, wanting more. Wanting everything she wanted to give me. Right then. “Lisa!”

Her tongue circled my clit and then dove inside me over and over. I had terrible leverage and I couldn’t rock into her the way I wanted to and I whined in frustration.

“Can I fuck you?” Lisa whispered.

“Yeah. Yeah... anything you want.”

She took me by the hand and led me upstairs.

That was the first time anyone had worn a harness in bed with me. The dildo was thick but not too long, and she completely filled me with it, thrusting into me gently and slowly as she took first one and then the other of my nipples into her mouth. I was flying on sensation, ankles locked around her ass, hips arched up off the bed and rocking so the tip of the squat dildo hit just the right spot inside and the nubby ring around the base rubbed my clit with each practiced thrust.

“Oh, God. Oh, fuck, yes, Lisa!”

Jesus she was good with that thing. I was drenched before she was done with me. I’d had two smaller climaxes along the way, but the last one shook me hard. “Lisa! Please, please! Oh, God!” I was begging for it by the time it actually overcame me.

Turns out she had a little bullet vibe in the harness and she came hard, shortly after I did, cursing like a sailor.

We lay there afterwards, both of us sweat-soaked and panting heavily. Lisa deftly unhooked something and the harness fell away and with a twist of her wrist it fell over the side of the bed.

“I knew you had a good vocabulary, but I had no idea it was that colorful,” I joked softly.

“Are you okay?” she asked, kissing my cheeks.

“Great. Wonderful. That was amazing.”

She looked visibly relieved. “I wasn’t sure if... some women don’t like...”

“I loved it.”

“Jesus, maybe now I can concentrate in class finally.”

We laughed and held each other as we fell asleep.

I consulted Rickie again about how to handle class on Tuesday, but she was no help at all. She couldn’t get enough of it. I honestly thought she was jealous.

“Okay, so was it a realistic cock-like thing?”

“No, Rickie, it was just a smooth dildo. Keep your little boy fantasies to yourself.”

“You’re no fun.” She pouted and that was the end of the discussion.

So, while the pressure may have been released, the steam was building up again during class on Tuesday. I made a point of talking to different students at random during class and sitting down with each of the independent critique groups as well. Anything to keep my mind on the subject and off of the professor.

It wasn’t working. She was looking hot in her tweed skirt and her conservative cream-colored blouse, with her hair up in its usual studious bun. I could feel her eyes on me every time she walked past. I could smell her perfume. She even went so far as to touch my shoulders as class was ending.

“Time to wrap up, Alice.”

“Oh, uh. Sure. Yes.” I stood up, and went to pack up my things. I lingered as the students filed out, not exactly sure why but hoping for something from Lisa. Anything that would tide me over until the next time we’d meet. She approached me as the last student left and leaned close. I thought maybe she was going to kiss me but she pushed the lecture hall’s door closed and secured a chair under the handle.

My mouth went dry. “Here?” I croaked, and swallowed hard.

Lisa nodded at me.

I moved to her, pushing her up against the blackboard. Lisa reached up under her skirt and tugged off her panties, which she handed to me. My gut clenched and my pussy was suddenly on fire. I took them in one hand and pushed the other under the fabric of her skirt and between her thighs, making her gasp softly.

“Shhhh,” I said, touching her again. She was so ready for me, slick and wet, and her scent rose up between us, making my head swim with want.

It didn’t last long. I stroked her as she rocked into my fingers and in moments she was trembling against me, biting her lip until it was white to keep from making a sound. When it was over, I kissed her hard. She reached for her panties but I shook my head, no, and stuffed them into my pocket.

She looked like she might come again.

“You left me.”

“What? I did no such thing.”

“You never answer your phone anymore, you don’t return my calls...”

“I’ve been busy, baby.”

“Girlfriend, you better watch your step.” Rickie worked her neck at me as she spoke so I knew I was in trouble.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Rickie. The semester is more than half over.” I sipped my coffee, enjoying our usual brunch and gossip session.

“How many nights have you spent in your apartment since that first date two months ago?”

“Um...”

“Exactly. And you don’t call, you don’t write... you don’t love me anymore.” Rickie poked at her French toast.

“Uh-huh. And how many times did you call me after you met the body-builder?”

“That was different,” Rickie protested.

“How, exactly?”

“That was lust, not love.”

“This isn’t love.”

Rickie eyed me. I looked right back. She arched one finely tweezed eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

I blushed immediately and waved a hand in the air to cover it. “Probably should get the check, huh?”

“Is this why you haven’t called me?”

“No. I told you, I’ve been busy.”

“Busy schtupping your new lover with the PhD.”

“And course work,” I protested.

“What did you do last night?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Last night. What did you do? How did you spend your time?”

I didn’t see the trap coming. “Oh! Last night was nice. Lisa took me downtown to a sushi bar and then we went for a long walk in... the park... and...” I sighed, knowing I’d been sussed. “Oh, fine.”

Rickie looked smug. If she’d grinned any wider her face would have split in half.

“Shut up.”

“So what’s going to happen when the semester is over and you move in with her? I’ll never hear from you again.”

I stared at her. “How did you know I was--?”

“Ah ha! I knew it! You’re moving in with her.”

“Ah! That was no fair! You tricked me!” Again. One of the many reasons I loved Rickie. She could outfox a fox. And be prettier doing it.

“I hate to think how long you’ve known and haven’t told me,” Rickie pouted.

“Oh, baby. I’ve only known a few days. She just asked me Saturday night. Promise.”

Rickie just pouted more.

“I swear.”

More pouting.

“Um... maybe you’d like to come to dinner and meet her?”

Rickie lit up like a Christmas tree. Or, in her case, a Hanukkah bush. “Oh, sweetheart. I thought you’d never ask.”

It was overdue, really. Why I hadn’t thought to introduce Alice to my best friend before I don’t know, except maybe that I hadn’t thought of sharing Lisa with anyone up until then. I’d been sort of focused. Obsessed. And horny.

So dinner was planned and dinner was had. As I expected, Rickie completely out-dressed me, wearing her favorite silver Vera Wang blouse, chandelier earrings and fabulous heels. What I hadn’t expected was for Lisa to share Rickie’s inexplicable passion for the minimalist composers of the 1960s. They talked endlessly about Philip Glass, Steven Reich and La Monte Young, leaving me almost completely in the dust.

And I was positively giddy about it.

It was nearly midnight when Rickie finally made her exit, leaving each of us with red-lipped kiss imprints on our cheeks. I walked her out to her car.

“Keep that one, darling, she likes you.”

“I don’t know how you could tell, talking as much as you did,” I joked, opening her car door for her.

“She might have been talking with me, but her arms were around you. And might I also mention that if she wasn’t interested in you, she wouldn’t have made such an effort to get to know me.”

“Maybe.”

“No maybe, go back inside and put an exclamation point on the evening.” Rickie slipped into the driver’s seat, effectively putting a period on our conversation.

I laughed. “I will do that,” I said and gave Rickie a hug. “Thanks for coming. You look fabulous.”

“I always look fabulous,” Rickie said, winking at me to take vanity out of her words. “Good night, you. Thank you for inviting me.”

When I got back to the house, into Lisa’s house that had already started to feel like home to me, Lisa was cleaning up the kitchen. I stepped up behind her at the sink and slipped my hands under her blouse.

“Mmm.”

“You have a crush on Rickie.”

“I do. On her mind. She’s so interesting and well read and--”

“Smart, I know. I constantly feel inadequate.”

Lisa laughed. “I imagine it would be difficult not to. Don’t stop doing that, though.”

“Is that going to help improve my IQ?”

“No. Not likely.” She sighed as I released the clasp on her bra. “But it makes a very good impression on me.”

“Oh, and I definitely want to make an impression on you.” I slid my hands under her bra and cupped both of her breasts, pulling her back against me. “Done with those dishes?”

“Dishes?” Lisa turned around and took my jaw in her hands. They were still damp and warm from the dishwater.

“Your hands are wet.”

“Me, too.” She kissed me. “Alice.”

I felt lightheaded at the sound of my name. I was already hot and wanting out of my clothing. “God, what you do to me.”

I pushed her shirt up over her head and she let her bra fall to the floor. She undressed me as we kissed and fumbled our way up the stairs. By the time my back hit the bed, we were both naked.

Lisa looked into my eyes. “You’re beautiful,” she told me, punctuating her statement with a soft kiss.

“Rickie is prettier,” I teased.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make a joke out of my compliment. You’re beautiful. I mean that.”

“I’m sorry, Lisa.”

“You should be.”

“You’re beautiful, too. You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever known. Or ever want to know.”

Lisa smiled slightly, and then lowered her mouth to my breast, licking and sucking on my nipple. It sent bolts of electricity through my body. I slipped my fingers between her thighs and she gasped, then started to ride them, lowering her weight onto me and taking exactly what she needed.

“Alice... God, yes.”

I twitched and bent my fingertips slightly and she tossed her head back, arching harder into my hand. “Alice!”

“I love you, Lisa,” I whispered. The words just fell from my lips, true enough but without the uncertainty that had accompanied them when I’d offered them to others in the past. She didn’t answer immediately, but she didn’t stop either; she rounded her back and kissed me hard, grinding against my fingers for another brief moment and then tearing her mouth away to gasp. “I. Oh, God! Yes!” Her body convulsed against mine and her thighs went taut and tightened around my hand. “I love you, too. Fuck. Oh, God.”

I didn’t wait for her to catch her breath, wanting to share her panting, sweaty relief. I wrapped my legs around her and humped up against her, and she reacted instantly, shifting so her thigh was seated tightly between my thighs.

“Yeah,” I breathed, barely above a whisper, but she heard me well enough.

“Fly, Alice,” Lisa told me her voice warm and sated. She wrapped an arm around me and lowered her mouth to my ear. “Want to see you fly.”

“Oh, God.”

I wanted. Needed. It took little more than her whispered encouragement and the short-lived, fervid grinding of my hips and I was there. Beyond there, and then gone. Fireworks exploded in the darkness of my mind and waves of pleasure rolled through my body. I was falling. I was flying.

The last class of the semester went by so slowly I thought I was going to die of anticipation while I waited for it to be over. It was possible that Lisa... Professor Kushner said something worth remembering, but I simply wasn’t able to pay attention.

Lisa was wearing a conservative skirt, but her blouse was unbuttoned just so and she’d worn heels that made her ass look great. Her hair was partly up, swept back and up off her face, but long and wavy in the back. She’d done that on purpose. She was teasing me.

“And lastly, I’d like to thank Alice, my assistant,” Lisa said. The mention of my name pulled me back to the task at hand and out of the fantasy of what I wanted to do to Lisa after class. “For making my semester far less stressful and a great deal more pleasurable.”

“Oh, no,” I said from my seat, smiling and crossing my legs demurely. “The pleasure was all mine.”