He trembled within and sat down. He knew he was about to take a very big gamble, but he thought the idea worth any retribution he might suffer if it went wrong.

"Well, are you going to write me a real good paper, Angela?" he said.

"Well, I'll try, but we have a football game this weekend and stuff…" she said, her words slow, measured, trailing off.

"You could be excused from writing the paper and get an A on it if you wish," he said.

"I could?" she exclaimed.

"Yes, indeed."

"Well, oh yeah, that'd be great."

"Yes, you need not write it if you'll do something for me, Angela."

"What, sir?"

He hesitated. "I want you to know I think you're a very pretty young lady."

Angie of course knew this but had never had a man tell her so before.

"Gee, thanks, sir," she said, blushingly. "Yes, yes indeed, you are very beautiful, attractive," he said, looking into her blue eyes. "And if you would pull your skirt up for me for awhile you could have an A for the paper and not do it."

Angie was flabbergasted. Certainly, she liked to show how off and the thought of it gave her a buzz of excitement. "Jeez, I… pull my skirt up?"

"Yes."

"That's all I have to do?"

Angie thought to herself for a moment. What could it hurt? Why not? And get an A for doing it? She also loved the thought of not doing the stupid paper.

"Well, I guess so," she said finally. Mr. Martin breathed a sigh of relief and pushed back from his desk. Angie saw in the crotch of his gray slacks a spiked bulge. "Then go ahead, my dear."

"Like this?" Angie said, and reached down to lift the hem of her tiny, gray school skirt. She pulled it up over her tanned, smooth thighs, up over a pair of sweet, snug pink panties.