Goodbye, Miss Granger
Copyright© 2015 by Belinda LaPage
Prologue
Erotica Sex Story: Prologue - Since childhood, Jeannie Granger has been both haunted and enchanted in equal measures by her uncanny resemblance to Hermione Granger from the Harry Potter movies. Once beloved, those stories of witchcraft and magic became a misery when she was teased at school, but with the support of friends and the discovery of her true love, Jeannie finally learns to embrace her childhood fantasies. and at the same time awakens a fierce and risk-taking sexuality she could never have suspected.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction First Petting Cream Pie Exhibitionism Public Sex Slow
"Miss Granger, may I ask a question?"
Oh shit, here we go. Class smart-ass, Craig Wellman. It was the last week of school and the Year 12s were getting feisty; we'd spent the school year preparing them for life after high-school, treating them like adults, loosening the apron strings and encouraging them to engage us as peers, if not as equals. It worked for most of them; at eighteen they can legally drive a car or drink a beer; though preferably not at the same time. Heck, they could fight in a war; they're adults after all.
But there were always exceptions. Not every kid matured at the same rate; some of them were little more than overgrown twelve-year-olds with side-burns and hair on their chest. I know that sounds sexist and maybe it is; the girls for the most part were fine. But the boys? Oh my goodness, the boys! For a young teacher ... check that; for a young female teacher; 5'4" in sensible heels and 54 kilograms (118 pounds), some of these boys were double my size; it was challenging to give them a little adult responsibility and still maintain enough respect to keep control of the class.
And dick-heads like Craig Wellman did not help matters.
"Yes Craig," audible sigh from me.
"Miss Granger," he began in a refined British accent, snorting back a laugh before he could deliver the punch-line. "Can you give us the third unforgivable spell?"
Raucous guffaws from most of the boys; rolling eyes from the girls. Harry Potter jokes were nothing new to me; I'd shared a surname with J.K Rowling's famous girl-witch, Hermione Granger, for over half of my life and believe me, I had dealt with worse than Craig Wellman's dull wit over the years. A LOT worse.
"Well Craig," I chirped brightly, not wanting to let him see that he had hit a tender spot. "They're 'Unforgivable Curses', not spells," that deflated him a little bit. "I'll have to consult my 'Goblet of Fire' first-edition, but I believe the third Unforgivable Curse is Broomenema."
That stopped him dead. A look of confusion crossed his face, momentarily stifling the giggles.
"Broom-what?"
"Broomenema," I smiled. "That's when you turn the head of your broomstick into your ass. It's not so much unforgivable as ill-advised."
The class dissolved into screaming chaos. Bazinga! Gotcha, Craigie-waigie!
I'd taken a bit of a chance burning a student with a relatively ribald joke like that, but Craig was the class clown after all. It took him a few extra seconds to get it and then he was laughing out long and loud with the rest of them.
I walked through the rows of desks and used my physical presence to restore order; giving Craig a smile and an 'I'm watching you' two-fingered salute at my eyes as I passed him at the back of the class.
Just as the laughter was dying down, a voice chimed in from near the front. "If I was you, Craig, I'd give the bristle end a miss as well."
More laughter from everybody, although I was pleased to note it wasn't quite as raucous as for my joke. I did a quick scan to find the comedian: Josh Kerrigan. He's tall – well, they all are compared to me – and has a trim, manly body for an 18-year-old, sandy blonde hair and a ready smile with nice, straight teeth. He's not the captain of the football team, or a super athlete, or a nerdy genius; he's just a normal kid ... a normal, good-looking kid ... with a ripped chest ... okay, it's possible I have a little crush on him.
As I walked back to the front of class, Josh held out his fingers at hip-level and I couldn't help myself; I gave him a little low-five as I went past. It felt nice. Am I a bad teacher? I suppressed a pang of guilt as I thought about my fiancé for a moment. Am I a bad fiancée? I don't think so; it doesn't hurt to look, right?
Just a few more moments before the bell rang; I had planned to have a little fun with them and maybe give them an opportunity to learn something useful for a change. I still had time.
"Okay, one week of high school left, you lot," I called out to a muted series of cheers. "So, I'm giving you..." pause for effect. "Homework!" Groans and grand 'why me' gestures all round. "Wait for it, wait for it!" I quietened them, trying to hide my smile. "And I want it on my desk," another pause to build up tension, "next Friday morning in class."
