Prompt: Write a story of a negotiation and have your characters use at least two tactics
Word Count: 1000 words
Deadline: Thursday, May 19th, 2011, 4:30 pm EST
THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE
By Veronica Marie Lewis-Shaw
“Tap… tap…tap…” The sharp knocking on the classroom door brought a frown to Professor Bouchard’s face, breaking her train of thought. She looked up from grading papers. “Tap… tap…” Sighing in resignation… “Enter!”
The door opened and Sasha stuck her head in. “Professor Bouchard? I’m sorry… I really need to talk to you about my grade… please!” The girl’s voice held a note of desperation. Professor Bouchard made a show of looking at her watch, sliding the sleeve of her white silk blouse up and studying the watch for several seconds. She glanced over at Sasha, then back down to the watch, and over again to the girl.
None of this was lost on Sasha, who noted the large clock hanging on the wall opposite the professor’s desk. She stepped in the room, closing and surreptitiously locking the door behind her. The professor sighed again. “Very well, Ms. Vinson… five minutes!” “Oh, thank you, Professor… Thank you! Sasha effused, walking over to Professor Bouchard’s desk.
Sasha dropped her books down on the desk, drawing another frown from the professor. She picked up a blue folder off the top of the stack and walked around the desk. Handing her instructor the folder, Sasha leaned back, resting her bum against the edge of the desk… scant inches from Professor Bouchard’s chair… and stretched out her long, tanned legs… the short skirt hinting at the promise of nubile flesh underneath.
A barely perceptible moan escaped from Professor Bouchard’s lips and her hand trembled a little when she took the proffered folder, her gaze never leaving those soft thighs. Ah-ha! I knew it! Sasha thought to herself, pretending not to notice her professor’s reaction to the sudden proximity to bare teen flesh. Sasha cleared her throat. With an effort, Professor Bouchard raised her eyes to meet Sasha’s.
“It’s this “C” that you gave me on my essay. I worked really hard on this, Professor, and I just…” Professor Bouchard raised her hand, stopping Sasha. “Ms. Vinson… you’re in college now. Did you honestly think that you could turn in a paper on French Romanticism that gives no mention whatsoever, to Stendahl?” She looked up at her student, waiting for a reply.
Sasha looked down at her instructor’s face, catching her eyes as they flickered between Sasha’s face and a spot a little south of her waist. Sasha opened her legs a little and looked Professor Bouchard directly in the eye. “Yeah… well… is there anything I can do to bring my grade up, Professor? At least to a “B”? She pauses… “Anything…?” Sasha parted her lips… the tip of her pink tongue sliding across her perfect, white teeth.
Professor Bouchard, her face coloring in obvious arousal, leaned back in her chair… her own legs parting involuntarily… respirations quickening… never breaking eye contact… tongue tracing over her red-painted lips. Hesitating… “I suppose that I… that is to say… we could…” her gaze dropped down to Sasha’s toned thighs. A sharp gasp fell from her lips as Sasha spread her left leg further still, revealing that she was not wearing any panties… her smooth, pink sex was completely exposed.
The professor started to reach her hand out to Sasha’s thigh, and then stopped. She looked over to the classroom door…
“The door’s locked.” Sasha said, scooting her butt up on the desk and sliding over so that she was directly in front of Professor Bouchard. The professor reached again for Sasha, but this time, it was Sasha who stopped her. “I want to see your titties first, Miriam… I can call you Miriam, can’t I? I mean, seeing as how you’re about to, you know… She gave the professor a naughty wink.
Miriam unbuttoned her blouse, slipping her arms out of the sleeves, then reaching behind, unhooked her brassiere. She slid the straps off her shoulders, revealing surprisingly firm breasts for a 52 year old woman… quite large, too. “Play with them!” Sasha commanded. Obeying, Miriam began massaging her breasts, pinching and tugging the dark nipples. As she became more aroused, her pulse quickened… her breathing grew ragged. After several minutes, Sasha stopped her.
“Okay… now, you do me.” She raised her legs, resting the heels of her slingback pumps on the wide arms of Professor Bouchard’s chair. Miriam leaned in… hands caressing Sasha’s thighs… she lowered her head… the girl’s scent rising up to her nostrils…
Some time later… both sated… Miriam withdrew and fell back in her chair, chest heaving from her exertions. Sasha slid off the desk and picked up the blouse, wiping herself and adjusting her red plaid skirt. Then, she sat on the corner of the desk while Professor Bouchard dressed.
Rocking her legs back and forth, Sasha spoke. “That was very good, Professor. In fact, I think that was an “A”… yes, definitely an “A””. Professor Bouchard looked over at Sasha. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t possibly raise the grade on your essay to more than a “B”. Even then, the committee is going to question it.”
“You misunderstand me, Professor.” Sasha replied, her voice casual… calm. “I meant an “A” for the class!” Professor Bouchard shook her head emphatically. “Out of the question… no… that is simply out of the question!” Her voice rose, as she stood to her feet.
Sasha moved in front of the professor, her voice now cold and hard. “Oh, but that is where you are wrong, Professor! Uh…uh!” she said, putting her fingers to Miriam’s lips. “And, I will tell you why.”
Sasha unfastened a small, glass button from her blouse pocket, except… it wasn’t a button, Professor Bouchard realized with dismay, when she saw the wire attached. The color drained from her face and she fell back into her chair. “Camera…?” she whispered.
“That’s right, honey!” Sasha nodded. “So… here’s what’s going to happen…”
“Either you give me an “A” for the class… or your little pearl-diving exhibition here goes straight to YouTube, and your “dark little secret” is out… Professor “Lezzie”!”