Another hapless girl

Tamara was texting on her phone in one of the school wing's foyers when a shadow stretched over her.

"Hello."

The teen looked up. A middle-aged balding man with glasses was looking back at her. He was probably a teacher. Sure looked like one.

A fidget took to Tamara's legs. He seemed harmless, but something about his demeanor made her eyes flit about a scrunch.

"What's wrong?" he smiled. "Looks like you got somewhere to be."

Shaking her head of dark brown hair, Tamara cleared her throat tentatively. "No, I just--"

"It couldn't be," a snap of a pair of fingers skipped across the air. "Do you think I'm ridiculously, insanely sexy? Is that the issue?"

Tamara gulped. Oh god, she squirmed, subconsciously toying with a strand of hair while anxiously scanning the top of the (super hot) teacher's plain beige loafers. Was I that obvious!? Crap, crap, crap, um....

However, the dashing man just laughed. The sound of it -- particularly its sexy, booming baritone -- settled Tamara's shoulders a bit as her legs straightened together. Meanwhile, almost as if expecting nothing less, Mr. Babe dismissively continued on and voiced his understanding.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Tamara."

"Nice to meet you, Tamara." He stretched out a hand. "I'm Mr. Dinger."

Tamara couldn't keep from biting her lip a bit even after slipping her petite hand inside the man's chiseled grip. He was just so sexy. Just touching him was a turn-on. Grinning down at her, Tamara swallowed air at the older man's attentive stare. "Well, Tamara," Mr. Dinger continued with a metaphorical scratch of the chin. "I was wondering if I could ask you something."

After another clearing of her throat, Tamara shook her head up and down, blinking away and then back, trying in futility to hide her burning cheeks. "Y-yeah, sure."