Foreword: This story written by request. Thanks for the idea, "Dominique", and I hope it's to your liking.
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I don't think I could've been more uncomfortable.
Here I was, thirty years old and back in high school. Well, not as a student, but as something of a guest speaker-slash-substitute teacher. A combination of a teacher's shortage in the local catholic school district, a couple of regular teachers being a little under the weather, and a "Career Day" theme for this particular Friday equaled me "teaching" a class. So I stood in a classroom with the school's vice principal as he walked me through what I'd be doing.
"All right, Mister Leigh, all you have to do here is let the students know what it is you do. Give them a little assignment based on your lecture, collect everything at the end of the class, and give it a grade. That's it. I'll see you after class." With that, the vice-principal handed me a copy of the class list and seating arrangement, and left just as the students were filing in.
Once everyone was seated, I introduced myself as Mister Leigh, (not Brock Leigh, I get enough grief about that from people my own age) and started into my lecture. I looked over the room as I talked about my work as in graphic design, gave an overview on what was required to get into it, the good parts, the bad parts, the whole ten yards. The students seemed to be interested, most of them did anyways. This was a senior class, and most of them were looking forward to college, deciding on their careers and what to do with the rest of their lives. I looked back at the eyes starting at me and gave them a forthright assessment on what my job was all about.
Some students asked questions, and the inevitable questions came out about money. I told the truth: you could do well, but you weren't going to get rich. One kid, who I guess was trying to impress everyone with his vocabulary, asked questions about 'conceptual process' and 'envisioning paradigms', to which I responded, "Dude, who talks like that?" That got a laugh from the class and loosened things up for both the students, and for me.
As my eyes went around the class and looked over the kids, there were a few who seemed distracted, or downright disinterested. I tried tuning them out, except for one kid in the front row. He was kind of geeky looking, at least what I could see of him from his profile. His head was always turned to his left, never looking at me. I made a point of checking out what had his attention, and turned my eyes along the front row about four seats over.
I couldn't believe I hadn't seen her earlier. The object of the kid's attention was a stunning Asian girl, shoulder-length black hair, dark almond shaped eyes, a beautiful thin figure, and the obligatory catholic schoolgirl's outfit. The hem of the kilt, however, seemed to be riding a lot higher than the knee-length I knew it was supposed to be, and she had a couple of top buttons undone on her short-sleeved white dress shirt, which exposed a little cleavage. She kept glancing over at the geeky kid, and I could tell right away that she was putting on a tease, tormenting the poor kid. She crossed and uncrossed her long legs and fiddled with the topmost button that she had done up. The kid on my left was nervously fidgeting, it was obvious the girl had him quite worked up, and when she put a pencil to her lips, her tongue darting out just a little to lick the pink eraser tip, before placing the end of the pencil in her mouth and sucking lightly, I heard the kid groan a little. The display had me distracted from a question someone was asking, and I just shook myself back to reality in time to repeat the question back to kid that asked it. Nice save, I thought to myself.
I looked at the clock and decided this was as good a time as any to hand out the assignment. I handed out some paper to the pupils at the front of each row, asked them to hand the paper backwards, and asked that everyone come up with how they would draw a few things. I gave a couple of advertising ideas, and a couple of abstract ideas and asked the kids to draw something about them. When I got to the row where the asian girl was sitting, and handed the paper to her to pass back, she looked up at me with a flirting, appraising eye, and then a smile. I looked at her for an instant longer than I should have, and headed back to my desk, reminding myself that I was in a high school, and that I was thirty-fucking-years-old. There could be very serious consequences for even staring at this girl for too long.
I sat behind my desk and worked a little on the exercise I had given to the kids as practice for myself. I drew a few things, and looked up to see how the class was doing. After ensuring that everyone was concentrating on his or her assignment, I looked over at the Asian girl, whose name was Dominique according to the seating chart. She was hardly diligent, still glancing over at the geek to my left. She rubbed her neck lightly, then smoothed her hand over her blouse, down to her breasts and touched one of them a little, then ran her hand down her tummy and over her kilt. She parted her thighs just a bit, and I looked over at the geek again, pitying him as he stood no chance with her, or against her. She was almost hypnotic in her tease, and I was getting caught up in it myself. She looked back down at her page and letting her fingers move slowly along the inside of her thighs, and when she did so, she opened her thighs even further, letting me see all the way up to what looked to be lacy white panties. I lost my composure for a moment and snapped the lead of the pencil I was working with.