Goodbye, Miss Granger - Part 6 - Sex Stories

Goodbye, Miss Granger - Part 6

... cryptanalysis,” Josh explained. “He kind of reminded me of the Waterhouse guy in Cryptonomicon. You know, eccentric. Geeky, but in a good way.” “And you thought he was influential for his mathematics?” I prompted. “It’s all in my essay,” he grinned proudly. “You’ll have to read it.” Touché. “I will,” I told him. And I meant it. “Will you be at the fair this afternoon?” He started to get up, sensing that I was dismissing him. “Sure,” he said. “What about you?” “Wouldn’t miss it,” I smiled. “Bye Josh. Stay out of trouble for muck-up day.” “I will,” he said, disappearing out the door. I was disappointed that his Harry Potter cape made it impossible for me to check out his backside as he walked away. My phone began to ring. It felt kind of weird. Naughty. It had never rung in class before because I always have it on silent when students are around. “Hey Miss Granger,” Josh had poked his head back around the open doorway. “Huh?” I looked up from the ringing phone, conflicted. God knows why. Let the bloody thing ring a few more times. “That dress is really tight .” I looked down, getting the million dollar view down my own modest cleavage. “Tight means good, right?” I asked, a blush stealing up my cheeks. “It’s really good, Miss Granger,” he smiled winningly. The phone was on its fourth ring. Voicemail would kick in in a moment. “Thank you, Mr Potter,” I said a ‘you’re dismissed’ tone, acknowledging his Harry Potter costume at the same time. “Bye, Miss Granger,” he waved, and then ...

... he really was gone. He’d left me in a playful mood. I answered what had to be the final ring with speaker phone. “You’re on speaker phone,” I sang happily. “Say hello to the Year 12 Maths Methods class.” “Be nice to her, Year 12,” it was Kevin, which of course I knew from the caller ID. “I want her in a flirty mood when she gets home.” I giggled. He knew the class would be empty. “Sounds pretty quiet there, Jeannie,” he teased. “Have you got them all tied up with furry handcuffs?” “Yeah, right!” I laughed. “We were all just getting naked when you called.” We don’t do much dirty talk – neither of us is very good at it – but we do “flirty talk”. And it felt so deliciously naughty to be doing it in a school classroom. And on speaker phone no less! “Did you call for anything, sweetie? Because I’ve got a room full of nearly naked senior students who need to be taught a lesson.” “No, nothing special,” he dropped the flirty-talk, much to my disappointment. “I just thought you’d be lonely all morning with an empty classroom.” “Actually it’s okay,” I replied. “One of my students handed in a writing assignment I gave them as a joke. It’s on Whit Diffie, so I’m going to read it.” “Homework? On the last day of school?” he laughed. “Was it a male student?” “Uh huh,” I giggled. “Crush?” he asked playfully. “Maybe a little one,” I conceded, forgetting to tell him it was a two-way street. “Well you have my permission to lead him on,” he laughed. “I had a hot teacher too in Year 12. I would ...