Oh-Hello

Paul was thankful for the few minutes of near-normality afforded by the remainder of his English class, but then Miss Wilson walked by his desk and said softly "Stay a minute, we need to talk" while everyone else was filing out. When they were alone she said "Paul, come up here and read this."

It was the note that Mrs. Loewenhaupt had handed him. It read "My dear Tallulah, Paul here is the ultimate stud! As a woman you will kick yourself for the rest of your life if you don't fuck him! Enjoy! Phyllis." He was surprised, for Phyllis had murmured something about such a note but he had never imagined she would actually write it. It was also always a little odd to be reminded that Miss Wilson's name was Tallulah.

Miss Wilson stood before him with her hands on her hips. "Paul, I'm very concerned about the future of this institution. Some mingling of teachers and administrators with students may be expected, but at the very least it needs to be kept under some sort of control. Are you really so keen on trying to make the whole school believe that you're some sort of big stud?"

"No ma'am!" Paul was happy to reply. "No, I -- I don't even want to have anything to do with sex until I'm married!"

Paul rather conveniently left out his most recent thoughts about Jessica "Bruno's Babe" Simmons and Alyssa Lanzilotti, but he felt relieved to give Miss Wilson a quick run-through of his day so far. She looked vexed, yet impressed in spite of herself.

"That is quite a story, Paul. Perhaps not one for the ages, but -- Paul? Paul ... Paul, my eyes are up here."

Give me a break! Paul wanted to complain. She was just standing there, hands on hips -- and with her jacket off, she was openly advertising a pair of giant knockers that any one of a hundred men's magazines would pay top dollar to photograph naked. It was a strange split, her cool measured reasonable voice speaking from her lovely face above her neck, and all the sexual heat blazing away below. Paul tried to look back up, but their gravitational power over his eyes was too much.

"Really, Paul, I think we should end this charade here and now. Pull it out of you pants. Right now. Whatever prop you have stuffed down there, put it on the desk now."

Prop? The Paul realized it was full recovered, straining down his pants leg more than halfway to his knee. "But, Miss Wilson, it's -- it's -- "

"Now, Paul." She definitely wanted all this nonsense over with.

Paul sighed but obeyed.

"Oh, hello!" Miss Wilson said softly in her charming lilting voice, her words faster than her own thoughts. Her jaw hung down as her eyes locked in on the towering erection before her and she daintily rested her hand just below her neck. "Oh, hello!" she repeated quite mindlessly.

Paul got the odd thought that she was naming it, as if it were a person in its own right, and he was struck by the change of subject. Forget Othello -- meet Oh-Hello.