Profe *will update soon*

Chp 2

First Day of School There goes my fucking life



Uriel

It’s intimidating to stand before the students, they are only sophomores, yet some of them look older than me. It is a relief that it was decided I wasn’t ready to teach seniors.

I did the typical thing; I waited for the bell to ring and then asked the students to take their seats. I waited two minutes before I began to introduce myself just in case there were any tardies. I wrote my name across the chalkboard, then I announced this was algebra and if anyone thought they were in the wrong class, now would be a good time to let me know.

I scanned my eyes over the classroom, it seemed empty and boring, I decided I’d have Marsha help me chose some posters and maybe even a plant. On my way in I noticed other classrooms had small homey touches, no reason for mine to lack it.

The desks were organized in 5 columns going back 6 rows. Most seats were occupied; the ones by the window were the first to go.

“I’m new at this school and I would like to get to know you guys for the first half hour of class, then we will go over a bit of what you should have learned last year and tomorrow I will take an assessment test to see where we are all standing.” I hear a chorus of groans, “Don’t worry the test won’t be graded." I looked at their faces some of them analyzing me as much as I was them; I just hoped I could hide my intimidation. I search for a friendly face.

“You,” I point at a brown haired girl sitting in the front row by the window, she looks sweet and actually 15, the blond girl sitting to rows behind her looks at least 18. The way, the blond looks at me makes me nervous, I advert my eyes back to brown haired girl, “Why don’t you start the introductions? Tell us your name and something about yourself.”

Brown hair girl blushes and before she can answer, a manicured hair belonging to blond girl comes up. “If can we ask you something about yourself?”

I think about it, and decide that it’s ok. “As long as the question is apropiate.” She gives me a smile that sends chills down my back. I look back at the brown haired girl and nod for her to start.

“My name is Andrea, I’m fifteen.” As soon as she is done talking she drops her eyes.

“Thank you Andrea. Would you like to ask me something?” She shakes her head.

I continue randomly calling out on students. Most kids would stand up and tell me they hated math. The ones who were brave enough to ask me a question kept them revolving around my age and experience in teaching.

About 20 minutes after the class has started the door suddenly opens. My words get stuck in my throat trying to choke me, I feel my life slowly flowing out of me to mingle with the owner of beautiful green eyes, teasing flirting green eyes that at first are hidden by dark over sized sunglasses.

My life was lost the minute he took those glasses off, his unruly hair falling onto his forehead and his t-shirt inside out, baggy jeans hanging of his hips I was sure that a light tug on them would bring them down. My eyes unwillingly traveled to his exposed abdomen his golden firm skin peaking out from the gap left between his jeans and t-shirt.

It feels like an eternity has passed and though I know I will never gain my life back I compose myself by the time the sunglasses are in his hands hanging by his legs. He cocks an eyebrow at me and then looks towards the class.

“You,” I have to clear my throat so that my voice doesn’t give away my clear discomfort, “are late. Your name?”

“Luciano,” he smiles at me and then looks over at the class winking at Andrea, he slowly approaches me. He has a slight accent that I can’t quite place but that I would love to steal in a kiss…What is wrong with me? Not only is this a student I am think that about, he is an underage boy, a boy and I am a married man!

His warm minty breath ghosts over my face as he softly whispers “Badu”. He walks to Andrea’s row and goes towards Monica, the blond. He gives her a kiss and walks back towards Andrea, completely ignoring the fact that I’m standing right here and he is interrupting my class. He asks the boy behind Andrea to move and once he does he takes a seat. I’m too numb to do anything.

Luciano

Can you say hot teacher? Wow, where did they get this hottie from? He looks young too about time we got a young teacher I’m tired of watching the wrinkle ridden saggy figures of the other teachers. Puaj, just thinking about it makes me shudder, there should be a rule against forcing us to stare at ugly people.

I have always wanted to shag a teacher, but really they are so old and ugly I thought it would be something I would have to leave for college; a teacher’s aid or something.

Oh I can see he is checking me out, I sit behind Andrea and she immediately knows what is on my mind. Andrea and me had a thing going on a few years ago but she just couldn’t keep up with me, that is my polite way of say she wouldn’t sleep with me so I broke up with her, not only that she doesn’t drink or stay out passed 9 on school days. A total bore.

We still somehow have managed to maintain something resembling a friendship. I mean I would not be caught dead hanging out with her outside of school. Oh don’t look at me like that ok, it’s not my fault that she is sort of nerdish. Anyway we still talk a bit during the classes we have together and we some times talk on the phone, let me tell you it is frightening how well she knows me.

“He is married Luciano,” she warns me as I’m putting my book bag down. I was trying to undress him with my mind, but alas I seem to not posses that power so I have to settle with imagining him naked. I can’t believe he is wearing a sweater vest, yuck.

“I’m sure that even if he is married he is not wearing chastity belt.” She shakes her head and turns her attention back to el Profe.

“Uh, Lu…Lu…Lucy ano” Oh lord its not that difficult to pronounce, mhmmm he sounds so cute trying to pronounce it.

“Lu ci ah no,” I tell him. I can tell that I make him nervous he gets all fidgety.

“Lu ci ah no” he repeats

“You got it profe.” He most definitely looks like a profe. Oh yes well profe is short for professor which is profesor in Spanish or teacher, pretty obvious. My cousins from Argentina are always calling their teacher profes and well I always imagined them sexy little things like the one I have in front of me. Yes I’m half Argentinean, half American well really Italian but my mother was borne in the States and she doesn’t even speak Italian.

He quirks an eyebrow at me and straightens that tacky little tie he is wearing, he is trying so hard to compose himself. “Mr. Whaever will do. Please tell us something about yourself”

“Sure thing profe, I’m a bi-sexual teenager whose hormones make him incredibly horny” I give him my most seductive smile and half the class laughs as the other gasps. Andrea she gasps and stares.
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