Mr. Dinger, a high school teacher

riing-riing

"Jennifer, hold on."

"Yes, Mr. Dinger?"

The teacher looked at the voluptuous, brunette soccer (aka football) player, and her tight knee-high shorts and green long-sleeved shirt. Her body was a surefire knockout. A duffel bag hung over her shoulder as they looked at each other and the rest of the students filed out of the classroom without a single turn of the head back, eager to get the weekend on its way.

Finally, the man asked, "Can you stay after class for a while?"

"Yes, I can, but I'd rather not be late to practice," the student said part-apologetically. The balding teacher nodded in understanding, feeling the golden band around his right ring finger contemplatively.

"Mrs. Frankfurt is no slouch in the discipline department, that is certain," he said carefully. "Nevertheless, in spite of this, you must feel slightly rebellious at the moment and still want to stay after class with me anyway, don't you? Am I right in assuming you don't really mind if you get into trouble this one time for skipping? It's but a little price to pay, after all."

"Oh, yes, Mr. Dinger, of course I'd love to stay after class, and you're right, I don't really have that much devotion to the team." She placed her duffel bag down and took a seat at the front. She rolled her eyes. "Mrs. Frankfurt can be pretty uptight sometimes. She might go extra hard on me the next practice but it's no biggie." She smiled, and placed her hands in front of her, looking around the now empty classroom, her fingers tapping the top of her desk. "So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

The teacher leaned against his own wide wood desk and pointed down. Realizing he was referring to her duffel bag, Jennifer looked back up questioningly.

"My duffel bag?"

Mr. Dinger walked off. After closing the door and quickly looking around the hallway, he returned to Jennifer and asked casually, "Well... yes." He looked around, though it was clear there was no one around at which to look. "I was just curious... did you bring the dildo, like you promised you would?"

"Oh," clarity washed over Jennifer's face, "that. You bet," the leggy girl smiled and reached down to unzip the bag. "I never break my promises, Mr. Dinger, you know that."

The girl proceeded to stick her hand inside the bag and, sure enough, took out a decent-sized, pink dildo to place before her on the desk a few seconds later. The gleam in her bespectacled teacher's smile went unnoticed.

"It's just," she started thoughtfully, "I know I promised I'd bring this to you, Mr. Dinger, but..."

"You forgot what for, didn't you?"

She looked away shyly. "Um, yes. Sorry." Head shake. "I don't know why I can't seem to remember. I, um, can be pretty forgetful sometimes, I guess..."

"Don't be. After all," the teacher reassured his very pretty student with a hand. "I still remember it clearly."

Relief settled across her. "Well, at least you're not upset." Then the high school girl looked up at him expectantly. "Anyways, sorry for forgetting. What was it again?"