Math

This was your least favorite class, not due to the environment or teacher who tried her best to engage with each student individually and as a whole.

No, the reason you hate math is because you suck at it and the fact is that you’ll probably not be doing serious math like this when your an adult.

You step into the class with your bag over your shoulder and you catch several people looking at you.

Even Ms Baxter follows you with her eyes from her desk as you head to your usual spot and take a seat.

After a few moments the class begins in earnest and Ms Baxter starts talking about the wonderful world of math and calls on class members to try to help solve an equation shes written on the white board.

Her words become drowned out with only her tone of voice present as your eyes slowly roams your teacher.

Ms Baxter was on the chubbier side but it fit her shorter frame well, her black hair was a permanently pulled back in a bun with a black pair of hornrimmed glasses that frame her sky blue eyes.

Today she wore a long black and white dress that went down to her knees, a pair of black high heels and you could only assume she wore a cock strap underneath (as was standard for teachers).

During your evaluation of her clothes you notice all eyes had turned to you including the teacher.

Oh fuck….. that was a question….

You blush softly and ask the teacher to repeat her question, eliciting giggles from several classmates.

“I asked if you could tell me the square root of 49….” She says her eye brows slightly furrowed.

“Um…… 24 and a half…..?”

“Ooooo Doug was thinking about Ms Baxter’s cock!” You hear a voice from the back call.

Both you and Ms Baxter’s face go red as the rest of the class laughs, that student is sent to the principals office.

Your not called on again for the rest of class which is relatively uneventful outside of occasionally catching a horny futa staring at you in your new clothes.

It then strikes you as funny as before today you were somewhat invisible at school, no friends, no real rivals and you didn’t really have a hand in any cliques or clubs.

Maybe you should take this chance as a new beginning and try to make use of some of the opportunities life’s thrown your way.

At the end of class you get ready to leave with a new found pep in your step when Ms Baxter holds you back.

“I think we need to have a talk about your behavior….” She says resting at her desk.

“Um….. have I done something wrong…?” You ask your brow furrowing in confusion.

“Not necessarily but I am becoming concerned” she says her voice soft to indicate worry over anger.

“Today for example, you come to school dressed radically different and I couldn’t help but notice you seemed distracted……. By me……..” she says folding her fingers together on the desk.

“Well for one thing my clothing is irrelevant, this school doesn’t have a dress code and my focus was on things other then you….”

She lifts her hands as if to concede and says “alright… I’ll drop it…. but if you want to talk about it you can find either me or your guidance counselor during lunch..”

And with that you stand and leave the class.