Charles, a fairly average boy at your 'extraordinarily sophisticated school'; you have your tv in your room — like some of the other boys that lived at the same dormitry as you — and like every boy, you have your secret stash of porn and magazines; being a boys only school meant that you all needed some sort of way to release your adolescent desires, especially since you don't have the resources you normally would during the holidays when you get to go home. Everyone jokes about some of the hot teachers in the school and how someone should make the first move on some of them — whether Miss Jackson knows it or not, the boys are learning more about how to flirt with her (for when they get the guts to do it) more than about Ancient Greece or the Roman Empire.
You give a sigh: if only the news station showed footage of the crazy feminists or the crazy activists or whatever they were meant to be: being told about something really hot without stimulus was a bad kind of tease. It was currently the early morning and your roommate was off doing his usual morning routine; you figured that you could do yours. You go through your stash and look for your usual material: you plan to take it slow since you have the time. Just as you were about to settle in though, your roommate opens the door; luckily, you are still dressed.
"Dude, have you seen the news?" he blurts out of his mouth.
"I just turned the tv off after seeing it. They casually went from the end of the world to the weather; that is where the line is drawn, not after the 'gender changing virus', not after 'the doom of humanity by sex' not even after 'are stupid but can still manipulate people' — it is after the casual change of topics." You give a sigh after your little rant. Your roommate simply rolls his eyes.
"You are such a buzzkill, Charles,"
"You are most certainly welcome." you smile. "Anyway, what did you want?"
"Did you know that the virus has reached the area — just a few cities away?" He brushed his brown locks from his green eyes — he needed to get a haircut at some point.
"No, John, I did not know that,"
"Don't your folks live nearby?" He sounded genuinely worried. It was rare for such a loudmouth fun-for-all guy to sound anxious. You get up from your bed.
"Look, I'll give them a call and everything will be fine," you grab your phone from your desk, "chances are, it's just misinterpretation and someone is spreading misinformation like you do on media during the twenty-first century." You dial your parents' phone number.
"You never know, Charles, you never know." You roll your eyes as you wait for the other end to pick up the phone; it was ringing and your parents don't normally take this long. It went to voicemail. You are still sceptical.
"To be fair, the sun has only been up for what? Three, four hours?" John puts his hand on your shoulder.
"Dude, I'm sorry." He is dead serious. You raise an eyebrow.
"John, seriously? They give me a call back then they give me a call back, if they don't then that will remain a mystery." You put your phone down and wave it all away dismissively.
"Well, Miss Jackson might be willing you make you feel better." You frown at the remark.
"I knew this was a joke, but I'll see you in history for third period." You spread across your bed with an annoy sigh.
"I would never skip a class with such a hot teacher."
"Change your physique first: you need to add more muscle mass to your body before you even have a shot with her,"
"Ouch, Charles, ouch." With that he leaves again. John had a slim body, like you, but you both would be regarded as skinny. He was just a bit taller than the average person but his mischievous smile shone like a beacon with his height. He had a jawline, but his hair hid it from most people. As for you, you would regard yourself as mediocre, but there was plenty of room for improvement. The mood was completely killed; there was no point in trying again.
You go through your school day with your classes, lunch with your friendship circle, the occasional run in with the few bullies — at this sort of school, shocker — and you almost completely shrug off the morning before. That was until history. You sat close to the front row of the classroom — which some boys have attempted to swap seats with — but you could swear that her blouse looks like it's about to burst; clearly, the usual crowd didn't notice that it looked odd. Her attire seemed tighter in some areas as well, and her focus seemed off from time to time. She even swore in class which made some people glance at each other. She dropped her pen across her desk and you could have sworn that what she did next was completely intentional: she went to around the desk and bent over in front of the class; she was smiling and giggling as she pretended to find pen from the floor. You caught a glimpse of her panties, of course, completely red and laced; it looked tight around her ass though, as if it they were a size smaller, showing more of her flesh to her audience. She straighten herself up, but not before winking at the class. This was weird for Miss Jackson; she was always oblivious to the reaction the class made about her movements: sitting cross-legged on her desk, leaning forward to see better, adjusting her blouse and skirt after shifting around too much — she had no idea that she was everyone's favourite teacher because of these little things. But as you sat at your desk, pen in hand, boner half in the other hand, you only watch it all.
The bell finally rang and all of the boys left — disappointed.
"With the state she is in, someone should ask her out already." you hear Zac say, the more confident of your class.
"Well, we have been trying to get someone to, but I think that know is the best time — after that and while it's still lunch." Todd adds. His thinking process was always hard to disagree with.
"Well, does anyone want to volunteer or do we have nominations?" Aaron usually came in when he needed to, whether it was a conversation like this or in situations that seemed safe to benefit from.
"I nominate Charles." You look at John with his mischievous smile. Everyone else looks are you.
"Pick your best pickup line, Charles, you're going in." Zac slaps your back.
"Charles the charmer has a ring to it." you hear John note.
"Excuse me?" You are still a bit lost: where was your say in the situation?
"Miss Jackson?" Todd calls into the classroom, "Charles has a question about the material we talked about today."
"I—"
"I hope it makes you feel better, dude." John cuts you off as he pats your back while you are pushed into the classroom; the others pretend to leave you but you know them well enough — they'll be by the window, watching, chances are. Miss Jackson sat on her desk with her legs crossed; she had a similar look that the boys in the classroom had when she bent over.
"So, Charles, what was your question?" She looks at you with intent. Needless to say, you are nervous.
"Why did the Roman Empire use Sparthas if the Gladius was such and effective weapon?" You just pulled this question out of thin air. You gulp as she looks at you.
"Well, the Gladius was used with a shield and was used as an offensive asset to the army; however, as the Roman Empire was attacked, they needed something that had better reach, that was longer — they needed a different type of sword." She stood up from her desk and struts up towards you. You simply stay still as she does. She grabs your viewable erection and whispers into your ear, "why don't you conquer me with yours?"
Oh shit!