“A very tempting offer,” she murmured. She wiped her fingers across my belly, teasing me with the evidence. She picked up her cup and sat down again. I stood and fidgeted.
“Can I get dressed now?”
She thought about it, tapping her desk blotter with a ball point while she studied me.
“No,” she said finally.
She shuffled papers on her desk, scribbled something in the margin of one page, and tossed another in the trash basket. I was starting to think that she had forgotten about me when she spoke again.
“I’ll make a deal with you,” she said. “If you score eighty percent or better on your exams; I’ll give you an “A”. If you don’t; I’ll give you an incomplete and you can attend a special summer session at my vacation home up North. The course of study there will be rather, shall I say—inte
