Just a minute Miss Johnson

<font face="Menlo,Monaco,Consolas,"Courier New",monospace">"Just a minute Miss Johnson." a rich baritone called out.

You immediately came to a complete stop.  Your name was Patricia Johnson.  At 5' 6" you've grown up to be a fairly average woman in height.  Aside from a thick mane of fire engine red hair, your features were rather unremarkable.  However, your figure filled out nicely to 36-28-35 and the D cups adorning you chest has ensured you were never wanting for companionship on a Saturday night.

Slowly you turned around.  Professor Wilson Meredith was standing by the desk staring at you.  You felt your heart skip a beat.  The professor stood over six feet tall.  The 200 pounds he carried gave him a solid appearance.  He had strong features, accentuated by piercing brown eyes.  The graying of his closely cropped dark brown hair did more to give him a distinguished appearance than emphasize the fact he was three times your age.  Well dressed, he was considered to the dreamboat of the staff.  More than once you fantasized about him in class.

?Your test was two minutes late.? He said matter-of-factly.  You felt your chest tighten.  As appealing as his good looks were, his reputation was downright ugly.  He was known as tough grader, a stickler for details and rules.  Rumor had it that he flunked one student because he tripped bringing his test up to the front and ended up turning it in 30 seconds late. ?I?m going to have to penalize you for that.?

?Please don?t flunk me,? you pleaded as you hurry to where he stood, ?I?ll do anything to pass.?  Professor Meredith?s right eyebrow shot up.

?Anything?? he asked.  You hesitated only a moment before nodding.  While no dummy, you aren?t a genius either.  Given the scores you got throughout the semester, you needed to do well on the final.  You couldn?t afford to lose any points for being late.</font>