Chapter 2

She looked much the same as she did in class, wearing nice jeans and a conservative print blouse. She was wearing sandals instead of her usual loafers, and no more makeup than usual, which is to say, none that I would notice, although some girls really know how to use makeup so that you don't even know it's there. Her long medium-brown hair was held in the back as usual by a clip. She wore no jewelry except for a small right-hand ring. The only thing I noticed out of the ordinary, almost obscured by the books that she held to her chest like a schoolgirl, was that the top two buttons of her blouse were undone. I couldn't remember if that was Amy's usual style. I decided I was going to have to sneak a peek down there sometime during the evening.

"Hi", she said, and I thought her voice cracked a little. She cleared her throat and said, "I hope I'm not, you know, too early. I made better, um, time than I expected." Her face was expressionless. So was her voice, even more so than usual.

"No problem", I replied, "come on in and put your books on the table over there. Would you like something to drink, pop or some juice?"

"Sure, a Cokersumthin." I went to the kitchen and retrieved a can from the fridge. When I came into the dining room, she was standing by one of chairs at the table. "Nice place," she offered.

I moved next to her, preparing to move around her, and said, "go ahead and sit down, let's get started." As I motioned toward the chair my hand grazed her back. Gee whiz, here I was trying to maintain my cool, and right away I did something that could be misconstrued. I pulled my hand back but did not comment. This small faux pas, and the fact that she hadn't flinched, perversely gave me a brief bit of courage, and I considered what kind of leading remarks I could make, ones that would seem innocent unless she already had ideas, but would still require her to make the first real move. Something like "what hard things would you like to work on first?" No, too obvious. "I'm glad you're here." "What do you need?" "What can I do for you?" No, I was afraid those would seem too personal or suggestive if she was here with pure intentions. I was unable to realize that if her intentions were indeed pure, that she would think nothing of such innocuous remarks. Paralyzed with paranoia, my courage evaporated and I wound up saying nothing as I sat down at her right. I thought I detected a scent, some sort of light cologne. Nice, and not too much. Maybe she wore it for me, or maybe she wears some all the time, though I couldn't recall smelling it in my office. Can't throw a woman in jail for wearing perfume when she studies.

I opened her book to the chapter we had been covering in class, and began going over the material with her. As usual, she seemed to be only going through the motions of studying. After a bit, I gave her a problem to work, and I turned my gaze toward her neck, peering as far down the front of her blouse as I could and still be undiscovered. The light wasn't really coming in at the proper angle for me to see very far, and I was able to glimpse only just above the top of her cleavage. No sign of a bra, although it was possible that I just couldn't see far enough. I was intrigued.

I quickly looked back at her face; she was asking me if she was doing the sample problem correctly. Good thing she wasn't much for eye contact, or I'd be caught looking down her shirt. I gave her a little redirection in her work, and she resumed scribbling. I noticed that as she worked, the fingers of her left hand were idly playing with one of the lower buttons on her blouse. It was going to be a real challenge keeping my hands to myself.

"Here, would you like some M&M's? I just bought them from a girl for her school's fundraiser."

She smiled, for the first time that day I think, said "thanks", and took the package from my hand.

"You shouldn't take candy from strangers, you know, but in this case I think it's OK," I ventured. This was a little more provocative than I had planned to say, but it seemed sort of all right.

"I can trust you?" she said, and I wasn't sure whether it was a statement or a question.

She looked at me for a moment, then turned back to her problem, as I said "I'm safe." I feigned moving something on the floor with my shoe, to get a chance to look again at her feet. I was not surprised that they were as nice looking as her hands, with no nail polish, just clean and natural. I worried that she'd think I was a weirdo if I spent too long looking down there, so I returned my attention to the pages of the book. I wasn't sure if she consciously realized what I had been looking at, but she chose that moment to slip her left foot out of its sandal, and tucked that ankle under her right thigh, in a semi-Indian fashion, the sole of her foot facing me. I guess I am a weirdo, because I found that it stimulated me a surprising amount. I got up, and brought a floor lamp over next to the dining table, trying to guess what the proper angle was to get a maximum view down her blouse next chance I got.

"There, that's better, isn't it?" I said.

She was still getting the exercise answers wrong, and sighed, "I don't think I'll ever get this."

"Sure you will", I fibbed as I sat back down, "you're getting better."

"I don't know what I'll do if I can't stay in the pre-med program. My parents will kill me," she went on, looking at me steadily for once.

I asked her how she picked pre-med, and she said that both her parents were in the medical profession and that it was just expected. You have to feel sorry for anyone in that situation. If she fails, the weight of the world is on her shoulders, and even if she succeeds it's only what everyone expected her to do.

"Come on, you can do it, let's try these problems here", I encouraged her, and I fought the urge to pat her on the thigh for emphasis.

Amy looked at me, then down again at her papers, and asked, "I really need a B. Isn't, um, there something I could do for extra credit?" Her voice cracked ever so slightly again as she spoke.

I sneaked a quick look down her blouse, but really didn't see much more than before. Well, here we goagain. Was she, or wasn't she trying to start something? Surely she was. My curiosity was getting the better of me, yet I had to be sure before committing myself to saying something overt. I considered a thousand different things to say, without finding the magic combination of words that would be safe and still tell me what I wanted to know.

I finally told her, "well, the course covers the fundamentals of basic algebra, so there really isn't anything you can skip and make up for with other material." Not very sexy, I know, but I couldn't afford to make a mistake.

"Oh. I see." Her voice had a flat tone of dejection in it. After a moment, she tried again. "What about if I came over and graded some papers for you?" I struggled with my emotions. I wanted to hear her to offer a somewhat more personal favor than grading some boring papers. But if the offer was not to be freely given, the ramifications would be serious.

"Uh, no, outside work like grading papers can't have any bearing on the grade a student gets. It wouldn't be fair". As though what was going through my mind was fair.

"What can I do?" she asked, more to herself than to me. A tear worked its way out of the corner of her eye, and began a journey down her cheek.

"Keep trying, you'll get it," was all I could muster. I hoped this was not some sort of scam she was pulling; could that tear be genuine? It was awfully well timed. She wiped the tear from her cheek, and said,

"I'm sorry. Um, could I use your bathroom?" "Sure, down that hall, first door on the right," I said, glad I had taken the trouble to give it a second cleaning. She slipped her sandal back on and got up, and I watched as she walked out of the dining room. Her blouse was not the clingy kind, so it was hard to be sure, but it seemed that maybe her breasts were moving more freely than they would if she were wearing a bra. Or was that my imagination seeing what it wanted to see? I hadn't been able to tell for sure when I'd seen her walk before, because of the way she'd been holding her books. Well, I'd be sure to get a better look now, when she came back.

When the bathroom door closed, I got up and moved the floor lamp a few inches and turned it a few degrees, trying to have it be in just the right spot to shine down on her chest when she sat down again. I heard the toilet flush and the sink being used, and the sound of her blowing her nose. It occurred to me that maybe she was having her period, but I looked and saw that she had left her purse on the table, so that probably wasn't the case.

I'm not too hung up about menstrual blood, but it is one of those things you don't usually think about when you size up a girl as a bed partner, even though it's part of every girl's life. After another minute, I heard the bathroom door open and she returned.

I noticed immediately that the third button of her blouse was now undone. Yes, as she walked you could see from the way her blouse moved that there was nothing constraining her small breasts underneath. So. It was certain now that she wanted to earn her grade in exactly the way I had suspected.

Why couldn't she be more straightforward about it? Maybe nothing more complicated than nerves. I just said "everything all right?" but knew that I no longer had to be ultra careful with what I chose to say. I could say something now, or wait and she'd say something soon that would confirm her intentions, and I'd figure out how to tell her no. I'd give her that wise yet caring advice, you know, something like out of Father Knows Best.

Amy sat down, looked at me and nodded. Her face was a little paler than before. Nerves, I assumed. I wondered if I looked pale too, since I was feeling a touch of nervousness myself. I wanted to prolong the suspense, so I decided to ignore her signals a little longer, and said to her, "ok, let's try again," and gave her another problem to work. She looked like she was unsure what she wanted to do, and started to say something, but picked up her pencil and began to work.

As she leaned forward I once more gazed down her blouse. The view was much clearer now. Her breasts were indeed smallish, perhaps a B-cup, but she made up in quality whatever might be lacking in quantity. I could see practically down to her nipples.

As she wrote, she rested her left arm on the table, and after a few moments she did a most extraordinary thing. She casually hooked her free thumb loosely over the fourth button of her blouse, the topmost one that was still buttoned. After a few more seconds, and with the same studied casualness, she then leaned back just slightly, so that her thumb stretched the blouse fairly tight. I watched avidly. She was giving me a clear view of her breasts. With the lamp repositioned now, in fact, I couldn't have seen more if she had chosen to take her top entirely off. Her breasts were completely free from the fabric of the blouse, supported only by their own adequate muscle structure.

I kept silent, afraid to say anything that might break the spell and cause her to cover up again. I studied her nipples. They were generally in proportion to her breasts, although possibly a little smaller than average, and they were a nice medium brown, with a clear definition of where they started and where they stopped. She would turn heads in a crowd if she were to wear a see-through blouse.

I looked at her face. She was trying hard to look like she was focused on her work.

I wondered if she could possibly think I wasn't sizing her up. No way. Her purpose was clear. I could make whatever move I wanted. My breathing was noticeable now, at least to me. I hoped she didn't notice, because I wanted to appear in complete control of myself. The view of her breasts was even more exciting to me than I had expected, and I was no longer sure I wanted to tell her no.

I decided to correct a mistake she was making in her math, and to get her attention I lightly touched her right hand. "I can show you the right technique," I said, and as I took the pencil from her I made sure to touch her hand just an instant too long. It felt good to touch her soft skin, and I wanted more. She looked up at me, and I smiled at her to try to make her feel at ease. She dropped her gaze back down. I saw her sneak a quick glance down her blouse, and she took her thumb out and straightened slightly to let the blouse resume its normal shape. She tried to do it casually, but her cheeks flushed just a bit to give her away.

I guessed that she had miscalculated just how exposed she had been. She wanted to have me see her attributes, yes, but not really flaunt them. Well, she had flaunted them. I wondered what she would do next if I didn't make some sort of move.

I showed her the way to get the right answer to the problem, and gave her another to work on. She picked up her pencil, looked like she was going to try again, then put it down and looked at me. "What can I do to get a B in your class?" she asked.

"We've been through this already. What do you have in mind?" I responded. I thought we were finally getting to the heart of the matter.

She looked back down, and said quietly, "whatever it takes." She put her palms on the chair beside her upper legs, forcing her knees together, and held her arms stiff. Her blouse, its sides being pushed together by her upper arms, billowed a bit and exposed her upper chest, although I couldn't see as far down as before.

"Do you have something in mind?" I repeated. "I dunno," she mumbled. I waited, probably for only 15 seconds, but it seemed like longer. She said nothing more. Undoubtedly she felt that she had laid her cards on the table, and it was up to me to accept or reject her offer. But there was no actual offer to discuss yet, and even though her intentions were very clear, her implied offer was not nearly acceptable. It would still require some care to get her to admit what she was here for.

Apparently the next move was mine. I swallowed, and began. "Listen, let me, uh, ask you something. I hope I'm not jumping to any conclusions here, and I apologize in advance if I am. But your actions tonight have been very, uh, unclear. Someone watching you tonight might, you know, get the idea you are trying to interest me in a deal, where I give you a B in the course, in exchange for some, uh, personal favors tonight. Sex, that is." No answer. "Is that what you are trying to propose?"