Only if she gets to teach

How should I play my cards with Joan today? Watson thought to himself. Thanks to Bonnie, he knew he won the battle yesterday, but the war has just begun, this war is long and hard, and hopefully will end with the sweet-salty taste of black pussy in his mouth, and (hopefully) some large leathery brown areolas for him to swirl his tongue around.

Watson sat down, unraveled his math books, and settled into class. He began devising his strategy to lure and splay the sweet Joan wide open with equations and trickery. He wondered if she was still furious from yesterday, it would help if she was, a good place for him to start from. Just then she walked in: a modest dress today, Ms. Smith, with jeans, sneakers, and a white blouse. Her face is stern, but no more than usual. She gave Watson no gaze at first, but as she walked closer to him he caught her eye dart from the ground to look at him, meet his eyes, and then quickly look away. He had caught her already, you're very bad at this game my dear, quite bad indeed. She sat down in the desk next to him and crossed her legs, and then suddenly a blaring alarm and flashing lights emerged from every classroom and hallway in the school. A fire drill, first of the year. Instinctually, Watson and Joan both look at each other before standing up, as if to ask "are you okay? What do you think? Shall we walk together?"

The professor marches them in line out the class and into their assigned spots in the parking lot. Watson lines up behind Joan in this order, a blessing to view her slim waist and very full ass as they walked through the hall. Once he had her in walking view, he began todays bout:

"So, this was your plan, huh?" He asked, whispering in her ear from behind.

She hesitated and then turned her head slightly, "You think if I wanted to burn down the school I would do it during school hours?" She asked, "With all the students inside?"

"Well, I guess it depends on your motives."

"My motives being what exactly?" she retorted.

"Mass slaughter of students you believe to be beneath your fabled intelligence. Or maybe just out of spite, who's to say?" He saw a small smile rise on her cheek before she turned away. Ah, Watson thought to himself, she likes that I think she's intelligent. But she can only receive it through an insult. My Joan, you are damaged aren't you. They walked a bit further to their assigned parking spot, Joan and Watson found a secluded spot separated from the rest of their class.

"Who's to say this wasn't your doing?" She confronted him playfully, now that they were alone.

"My motives being?"

She paused, not quick enough on your feet Joan. "Just wanting to get out of class, no good reason."

"Because mass slaughter is a good reason?"

"I mean at least I've got some conviction."

"No-no that's true, I won't take that from you. Can I tell you something?"

"Yeah?" she asked softly and curiously.

"Bonnie kind of ragged on me yesterday."

"Sh-she what?"

"She like stopped me and called me out wanting to know what I did to you."

"Did to...me?" she rubbed her hands together nervously.

"Yeah, do you know what that's about? I just told her you helped me with some homework because I suck at math and you're really good at it."

She hid a blush, "I... have no idea what that's about... I'm, I'm sorry she talked to you that way."

"I mean it's not big deal, just was very confused, made me think I did something very wrong, which in that case, I won't be needing your math skills anymore, thankyouverymuch." Watson turned quickly to turn away in protest.

Failing to hide her fear, Joan grabbed his arm and turned him back around towards her, "No! I--I can help you... but only because I need the tutoring hours."

"Tutoring hours?" He asked.

"I'm...I'm trying to fulfill this extra credit requirement for a program I'm applying to."

"Oh really? How many hours do you have?"

"Currently? Zero."

Watson burst into laughter, "Hah!"

"Stop it!" She playfully hit him.

"So what? I'm to be your guinea pig?" Him saying the word ‘your’ made Joan's ovaries roll over.

"It seems like it would be beneficial for both of us, don’t you think? Just until I have enough for credit."

"Oh, you're proposing a regular thing?"

"You need the help don’t you?" Watson had to make her think this was her idea all along.

"I mean... Yes, yes I definitely do, I'm just not sure you're the right girl for the job." Time to apply some pressure to that frail little heart of hers.

Offended and taken back, "Excuse me?"

"Well, I'm just saying, for the sake of my education, perhaps I should interview some tutors before I decide on one."

"Decide??" She said embarrassed, offended, and fully turned on all at the same time. No one had ever rejected her advances like this with such confidence before, she craved his approval.

"I think you need to prove yourself to me..."

She stopped, stunned, now--quietly, "How... how do I do that?"

"I think a private lesson would be good, just to see if we're a good fit you know...for math."

"At my house?" she asked, pleading inside to be dominated.

"Yes, at your house."

"Okay... um... how about Fridays after school? My parents are usually on date night, and that'll give us a good few hours to get some work done."

"Yeah, that should work. Thanks, I appreciate it. I'll need to line up some other candidates as well..."

Joan tensed her shoulders, she was mushy on the inside, fully within his grasp, in dire need of his approval and attention.

Soon they were walking back to class, giggling and chatting about their murdered classmates.