lewd Alyssa

Paul felt almost relieved to walk in on some kind of argument going on in English class, if only to take attention away from his tardiness. Once again the cause of it seemed to be Alyssa Lanzilotti, who was high-fiving guys seated near her. Her name resisted parody but Man She's Slutty seemed to catch on the most. Alyssa was a bit of a mystery to Paul, not only for staying in school when she kept threatening to drop out and become a stand-up comic, but for not being Bruno's babe instead of Jessica Simmons.

Miss Wilson seemed to regard Paul warily. he handed her the note, and she read it solemnly, waved him to a seat, then continued. "Now, class, the works of William Shakespeare come to us from a completely different time. People hundreds of years ago were very different from us today."

"Aw, come on," jeered Alyssa. "Look, we just read Iago going on about 'the black ram tupping the white ewe' -- and that's how it is today too, it's the big hulking black guy with his big hulking black dick and his cute little blonde white twinkie who only loves him because she's got to have that big hulking black dick! Am I right, girls?"

Paul noticed that it was mainly the guys who laughed, and only a few girls, and even those seemed to do so halfheartedly, almost politely.

Miss Wilson become unusually cross. "Miss Man She's -- Miss Lanzilotti! As a person of color myself I object to your racial stereotyping!"

"It's not stereotyping, it's more like investigative journalism." However, when Miss Wilson's eyes got fiery, she backed down. She knew how to gauge an audience. "All right, all right. There's something to be said for the white boys. I mean, it's true, I call my man Jabar Babar because he's hung like the king of the elephants -- but whoa, get a load of Elephant Boy over here and the impression he made on the principal!"

Paul sighed patiently, wondering how long he would have to live down the accidental public address transmission. Again he notice Miss Wilson looking at him, not angrily, just ... warily.

He was thankful as the remainder of the class went on quietly, but there were strange undercurrents. For one, Miss Wilson seemed vaguely irritated, even itchy in some way, and at last she removed her jacket. This was a bit of a shock, for she had always worn her complete ensemble and never removed the jacket before -- and Paul could see why. Underneath she had on a very low-cut blouse, within which she possessed two truly mountainous masses of a luscious chocolate boob-pudding which threatened to spill or ever burst right. He had always suspected she was built like that, but to actually see it quietly astounded him.

For another, he kept noticing Alyssa glancing at him with her signature crooked smile and occasionally even winking at him. It was odd, Alyssa had never really been on his radar before, but now he was consumed with the idea of fucking her. Out of attraction? No, not exactly, Spite, that was it. For the first time ever, Paul found himself turned on by the idea of screwing all hell out of a girl out of sheer spite.