Anything For an A
A classic story of a schoolgirl trying to seduce her teacher. With a few twists along the way.
(No high school students were harmed in the making of this story.)
The letter was clear.
My acceptance was dependent on just one thing. If I exceeded expectations in English I was welcome to join the class of 2015. If I didn’t? Let’s just say community college was my next best option.
Don’t get me wrong. I liked English. I just didn’t try. I was more interested in physics and transcendentalism than I was in Poe, and I was more curious about architecture and pragmatism than I was poetry. I liked reading, and Mr. McGrath was a good teacher. He cared about his job and he wanted all of us to be excited. Even the dumb ones. He wanted them to try and fail like good little angels and he made my heart hurt. Such good intentions in a fucked up world always make me sad. He was an idealist, and like history has proved over and over again, he was going to be disappointed.
None of this changed the fact that I needed an A in his class if I was going to Vassar, and I was going to Vassar. I was going to drink, study, and party, and I was going to do it in that order. I was going to work hard, drink hard, and fuck hard, and one stupid class wasn’t going to ruin it for me.
If you think I hadn’t tried wearing a short skirt, asking good questions, and fluttering my eyelashes then you don’t know me. Or Mr. McGrath. I sat in the front row with no panties on, crossed my legs and pouted my lips. I wore tight sweaters, low-rise jeans, and skirts so short you’d notice my pubes if I hadn’t shaved them all off.
So yeah. That wasn’t going to work. Sure, he smiled at me, and I swear I saw him get hard one day, but his expressions held more sympathy and understanding than they did lust. After two weeks of trying my hardest, I was starting to hate him. If eighteen-year-old pussy didn’t sway his mind then maybe nothing would.
For some dumb reason, I asked my boyfriend about it one night. We were parked in his car at the view because, as always, our parents were home and there was nowhere else to go.
“Do you think Mr. McGrath would give me an A if I fucked him?”
“I heard he fucked Talia,” Mark replied.
“She’s a fucking liar! She couldn’t even get the track coach to let her blow him. There’s no fucking way.”
“I don’t know. Why would she lie about it? And who said you could fuck someone else?”
I had his dick in my hand as we were talking and my bra was pushed up uncomfortably above my tits. We were so classy it was hard to know what to do with ourselves.
I reached behind me and unhooked the clip before sliding my bra off under my shirt and throwing it into the back seat. He had seen my tits so many times he hardly looked, but he did pout a little when I took my hand off his cock. I leaned down and took him into my mouth as I kept thinking about it.
“Would it really make you jealous?” I suddenly asked looking up at him.
“Dude, you can’t stop sucking my dick to ask me questions like that.”
I sat up and looked at him. He looked a bit silly with his hard-on sticking out of his jeans and the rest of his clothes still on. He was holding onto the wheel like he was still driving, and I tried not to laugh.
“Did you just call me dude?” I asked.
He zipped up his pants, stuffing his cock back in, and stared at me.
“I don’t think this is working.”
“What, making out in your car?”
“No, us. I mean, we’re both going to college, and you’re already talking about fucking other dudes.”
“I just wanted to know if you thought I could pass the stupid class. God, don’t be so fucking dramatic. You’re like a girl sometimes.”
“See? This is what I mean. Hanging out with you is like hanging out the guys. It’s fun, but it’s just not…”
“Sexy anymore? You’ve seen me naked a hundred times, you’ve come all over me, and now it’s time to move on because I’m just one of the guys? Well, you know what? I think you’re right.”
He looked at me, and I could tell he was trying to figure me out. It’s not like I was all that complicated, but he wasn’t the brightest fish in the barrel. Or the sharpest tack in the ocean. Or the deadest horse in a can of beans. You get the idea. He was as dumb as a mixed metaphor.
“Are you saying we should break up?” he finally asked.
“No, I’m fucking agreeing with you when YOU say we should break up. It’s totally different. I’m the one who gets to drink until I pass out and have my friends comfort me because you left me.”
“You’d do that anyway.”
“Yeah, but… Fuck you.”
I was smiling, he was laughing, and for a second he looked at me differently.
“Fuck, now I want that blow-job.”
“No, you don’t. You’d just get bored in the middle.”
“No seriously. Now that you’re my ex-girlfriend, it’s like different and shit.”
“Yeah, well, I hope you like wanting,” I said as I opened the car door and got out. It was a two-mile walk home, but fuck it. I could use the fresh air.
He didn’t even try to stop me, and I bet you anything he just jerked himself off in the car before driving over to Mike’s house to play x-box all night. Who needs him, I thought to myself.
The bright side was that I had an hour walk to come up with a plan. It was clearly going to take more than the regular amount of teasing to get something from Mr. McGrath, and the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to win. It wasn’t just the grade anymore. I wanted to be smart enough, and crazy enough to turn him on. I wanted him to go insane with how much he wanted me since clearly, no one else was anywhere close.
The next morning I had it all figured out. There were three careful steps and each once had to work perfectly.
This is an older story of mine, but it’s fun all the same. Obviously it’s totally inappropriate and immoral to sleep with a student, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. It wasn’t until I graduated that I learned just how often it was happening in my own high school. But this is fantasy so there you go.
