It was a balmy afternoon. Another school year was coming to end with a lack of A/C to save us from the strengthening orb in the sky. I could feel the sweat trickling into every unwanted place on my body. Summer was just around the corner but, of course, we had to get to day one – eight – zero. All year long I had to deal with this one coworker that constantly flirted with me while knowing that I was trying to stay professional. Dating someone from the school, while not against the rules, was frowned upon as a conflict of interest. Sarah is this coworker’s name. It’s not that she isn’t attractive. She is just not really my ideal type. For one she has a larger ass than I usually enjoy watching even though some guys love that and her chest is the same way in being slightly larger than I prefer. She also is a brunette and I’ve been a guy who’s been mostly into blondes. That last part I am guessing is because my mother is blonde. Many psychology classes have tried to convince me of that last one. What I’ve said being true did not change the fact that sometimes a sweaty attractive woman looks that much better when sweat is making things look a bit more… festive, I guess is the way to put it mildly. She walked in just as the last students exited the room and I was like a deer stuck in the headlights. Literally! Her “upper body” was looking particularly fetching with, “points of her own staying way up high… way up firm and high,” as Bob Seger once put it in Against the Wind. “Hey Mr. E.,” she said to me cutely. “I’d do anything for an A,” she remarked jokingly but with that flirtatious way that we guys both hate and love at the same time when it comes from the sultry lips of someone whom with we are not currently sleeping. “Come on Sarah. It’s too hot for the flirting today. You do look good though. That’s a nice outfit.” The outfit was actually killing me. It boggles my mind why school districts think it should be okay for woman to wear skin tight clothes whether it be a teacher or a student. Yet, here she was, not only with the firm eraser tops starting me down, but also, lower down sitting between the beautifully sculpted legs, a toe of sorts resembling that of a camel. I will be honest. Even as a guy, it sometimes does not make sense why this is a turn on for me. It is not as if a woman is going to have sex with me, or let me go down on her, just because she is showing me the outline of her perfect flower through the tight fitting fabric of the lower part of her ensemble. It turns me on nonetheless. I remember it when I would deliver pizza while putting myself through university. Go up to the door and ring the bell. Door opens and there is a twenty something, ‘tight as a tiger,’ beautiful single woman with her labia majora saying, “Hello sir. I see you are happy to see me… or is that just a roll of quarters in your pocket.” “Thanks David,” she replied to me with a little smirk on her face. “You know I was thinking of you this morning when I put on this outfit,” she said as her legs slipped stride-for-stride across the tiled floor. Stepping behind me as she like to do she started to massage my shoulders. Now, it makes me uncomfortable when she does it but, let’s be honest, when the person doing it knows how to use their hands, you really do not want to say know to it. At least, you want to wait until your muscles are worked into a relaxed state. Today was different though. When the bare skin of her hands pressed up against my golf shirt it was electric. I am not speaking of static charge but the feeling inside of me was electric. It may have been the mixture of heat, exhaustion, and sexual tension but my body relaxed and I think she noticed a difference. “Do you remember that time you came back up the junior high to see me when you had moved up to the high school?” “Yes…,” I replied tentatively, as I wondered where she was going with this line of questioning. “I told you at one point to, ‘kiss my ass,’ as something you said irritated me.” “Oh. Lol,” I laughed nervously as the memories came flooding back, “I said to bare it and share it.” “I did bare it and share it. And you kissed my ass literally.” “Wow. That brings back some memories. I had forgotten about that.” “It was fun back then,” she said as she started to play with my hair. Have you ever had a school nurse do the lice check. Many times it feels good to have someone play with your hair in that way. This was one of those times. I started to feel a bit warmer and not because of the hot pre-summer weather. I started to feel uncomfortable in my slacks and I squirmed just a bit as my staff started to rise between my legs. “Feel good huh,” she asked delicately brushing a hand down my check to the side of my chin. Her lips were warm as they brushed against my neck and I felt her kiss lightly a few times. She raised her head a bit putting her at the level of my ear. Her warm tongue, colder than the air around us, made me shiver as it came into contact with my earlobe. Her lips closed around the cartilage and it was all over. She had me firmly within her clutches now. I was not really sure what to do. Sarah stopped titillating my ear long enough to pull my chair around a bit to give her room to sit herself on my desk. She seductively, at least her trying to be seductive, put her shoed foot against my shoulder with the other one resting on my knee. I snickered involuntarily. She got a bit mad, and in a huff spurted out, “What!?” “Um, is that wet spot between your legs new.” She went to question what I was talking about but before the mood could be broken completely my hand was massaging her overtly outlined features through the thin yoga fabric. Her response turned into sort of falling into me as she gasped from my pressure on her moist pants. Just then we heard the principal saying his goodbyes to the other teachers and were brought back to reality. She sat on the edge of my desk in a more appropriate area while keep her pants facing away from the door and we just talked as he passed by the room. He waved in unaware and we waved telling him to have a nice summer.