1. Vector: Chapter One


    Date: 10/21/2017, Categories: Fiction, Blowjob, School, Teen, Teen Male/Teen Female, Author: zxnoregretsxz69, Rating: 88.9, Source: sexstories.com

    wanted us to know a lot of background information. "So," she continued, "take out a piece of paper and number it from one to twenty." A quiz. She was giving a quiz on the first day. The rumors were true: she was a bitch. The room echoed with the groans of about thirty students (Myers's classes were always packed for some reason that no one had been able to explain to me) and backpacks being unzipped. I slammed a piece of paper on my desk and dropped a pencil on top of it. I wasn't actually worried about the quiz, as I remembered all the material, but I was still incensed that she would put all the other students through this. "Question one: what is the oldest continuously inhabited settlement in the U.S.?" I scrawled "St. Augustine" on my paper and waited for the next question. While I waited, I looked around the room. As I had suspected, my fellow students were in varying states of distress, particularly Sara, who was sitting two seats to my right and twisting her hair tensely. I met Eric's eyes as he looked forward from the back of the room and he raised his eyebrows, mouthing "Help me!" and clutching at his heart. I grinned and looked back at my paper before Ms. Myers noticed me. The remaining questions weren't much harder and we were done before too long. Foolishly, I thought that that might be the end of serious work for the day, but Ms. Myers made us take out our notebooks before launching into a lecture about early Americans. My pencil was a blur for the next thirty ...
    minutes as I furiously took notes. I ordinarily wouldn't bother, but I'd heard that Ms. Myers checked notebooks to make sure students were keeping up with work. Eventually, the bell rang --well, I say rang: it was an electronic bell that sounded like the "fasten your seat belts" alert on an airplane-- and everyone eagerly left. Mutters of indignance and frustration about the quiz filled the air, growing louder as people distanced themselves from the classroom. "Hey, see you guys at lunch." I said as Marty and I split off from the group to begin our short walk to Spanish. "How was that hunting trip, Marty?" I asked. "Pretty good," he answered, "It was offseason, so we were going for feral pigs. I got a six-foot male." "Six feet!?" I exclaimed. "Jesus Christ, that's huge!" "It's about average," he dismissed modestly. "Hey, isn't there a new Spanish teacher?" "That's what I heard," I confirmed, "Ms. Soto. She's from Colombia." "Is that her?" Marty asked incredulously, stopping in the doorway of the classroom. "I hope so." I said fervently. The woman in question was a gorgeous twenty-something Latina in an above-the-knee pencil skirt, sitting on her desk with her long legs crossed and talking quietly to some students in the front row. "Bienvenidos!" She greeted us with a slight accent. "Come, sit." She waved a hand at some empty seats. We scanned the room for people we knew and found no one; like some of our friends, Marty and I had started Spanish a year earlier than most students ...
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