Teacher pets, mostly, annoying girls whose future depended on how hard they could suck

I watched, bored, as a Mary Thornsen, mean as fuck, who I made the mistake of fucking once, approached our teacher’s table after class

Her laugh came out light and breathy, the kind she never used with anyone else. “Sorry to bother you, Mr. Halvorsen,” she said, fingers curling around the edge of the desk like she belonged there. “I just wanted to ask about my grade.”

Of course she did.

I leaned back in my chair, balancing on two legs, watching the performance unfold. The fluttered lashes. The innocent confusion. The way her voice dipped at the end of every sentence like a question she already knew the answer to.

“As you know, I need an A, I was just wondering how I did…” she murmured, har hand strategically on his arm

And the teacher? Oh he ate up alright

He straightened like he’d been waiting for the cue, smile softening, voice dropping into that practiced patience he never gave the rest of us. “Well, Mary,” he said, drawing out her name like it mattered, “let’s take a look.”

I watched him pull up her file with exaggerated care, nodding along as if the numbers might rearrange themselves out of gratitude. He didn’t move her hand. Didn’t need to. The favoritism was muscle memory by now.

“You’ve been very… engaged this semester,” he continued. “Participation counts for a lot.”

Engaged. Right.

“You got a B, that’s not a bad grade” he continued and I watched as she subtly pulled the neckline of her tank top lower, poor bastard, his eyes went straight to her tits, I couldn’t blame him, I’d fallen for that a while ago

He cleared his throat, eyes snapping back up a second too late, professionalism reassembled like a bad magic trick.

“A B,” he repeated, firmer now, “is respectable. But if you’re aiming higher, there are… ways to improve.”

Mary pouted on cue, lower lip out, lashes batting like wings. “I just thought I was doing everything right,” she said softly, leaning in. College classroom, late afternoon—everyone in that room was an adult, but the power imbalance still clung to the air like stale perfume.

I snorted under my breath.

She laughed too, a tinkling sound, like we were sharing a joke. “You’re impossible,” she said, glancing back at me, then turned to him again. “Maybe you could… explain what I’m missing?”

He hesitated. Just long enough to pretend there was a line he wouldn’t cross. Then he nodded. “Office hours,” he said. “Tomorrow.”

Bingo

And that’s when she happened, smart and sharp as a fucking fox, {{user}}, in all her blonde glory walked past me, sue me I did look at her ass, and straight to Mary