"Not so great. I got another D on a test and my dad has been talking about a tutor."
"Is that so bad?"
"With my dad setting it up, I know it would be a drag. When he goes at anything, it's always whole hog or none. I'd be locked into after school sessions with some creep who dreams calculations and takes a shit by the numbers." Cammy let out a breath. "But I asked Ralph if he had any ideas, and it turns out he has an uncle who teaches math. I figure he'd be easier to get along with than any tutor my dad would get. And maybe I wouldn't have to go every afternoon."
"Hope it works out." Janet patted Cammy's hand.
"Boy, this beer makes me feel like I don't care one way or the other."
"Let's have another one."
"You really think I've got good legs?"
"What made you think of that?" Janet laughed, handing Cammy another can of malt liquor.
"Ralph told me the same thing. I just always thought I was skinny."
"You're slender." Janet slugged from her can, and grinned at Cammy. "The kind of slender that makes a fool of any man!"
"Any man?"
Janet gave her a loose grin. "I'd bet on it."
The next morning, Camilla was too hung over to bet on anything. And to make matters worse, her mother started in on her again as soon as she sat down for breakfast.
"I called your teacher about that D you made on your last test. He said for you to come in early this morning and he'd show you where you made your mistakes. Don't you think that's nice of him, Cammy?"
"It sure is," she said.
She forced down a mouthful of scrambled eggs, chased it with orange juice, and thought of the one can of malt liquor that was left out of the six-pack. She knew that she wasn't going to be able to make it through the day without some kind of help. Her mother was talking again. She took her hands away from her ears just enough to get the gist of it.
"… and Mr. Anderson will be in his office at seven, just for you. Don't be late."
"It's quarter of already," Camilla whined.
"You'd better hurry then," her mother added.
"Better hurry," Cammy mumbled as she hurried back upstairs. She stuffed the can of malt liquor into her purse, gathered her books and ran down the stairs. Her head pounded and her mouth tasted all wrong. The thought of having to see her math teacher with a hangover was enough to make her puke.
There wore only a few cars in the lot in front of the high school when Camilla hurried up the walk. She recognized the principal's red Buick, Mr. Anderson's Volkswagen, and the pickup that belonged to the janitor.
She pulled the heavy door open and ducked inside. The echoing hall was empty so she went quickly past Mr. Anderson's classroom to the girl's restroom, unzipped her purse, and popped the top on the can of malt liquor. Cammy felt better almost immediately. She drained the last of it and tossed the empty into the trash container. Then she found a breath mint in the clutter of her purse. She still wasn't ready for Mr. Anderson, but she was as ready as she'd ever be.
"Good morning Camilla," Mr. Anderson said, looking at her over his horn-rimmed glasses.
"Morning," Cammy mumbled, suddenly knowing she was more loaded than she wanted to be. The beer was pumping through her blood, making her tongue thick and her head dizzy.
As Mr. Anderson pulled up a chair for her and adjusted his gasses, she tried to pull herself together. Instead, she almost knocked the chair over falling into it.
"You okay?"
"Yes sir, I'm just feeling a little dizzy. Must be the flu or something."
"You do look a bit flushed." Her teacher put his hand on her forehead and the sudden touch gave her an unexpected thrill. She remembered what Janet had told her about her legs at that moment. It really surprised her when she caught Mr. Anderson staring down at her crotch. Falling into the chair, she'd let her skirt hike up so far that her panties were showing, and her teacher was getting an eyeful.
"Well, you seem to be all right to me," he mumbled and opened the folder with her test in it. "Let's run down these questions and I'll show you where you went wrong."
While Mr. Anderson talked, Camilla leaned forward to and tried to focus on the pages that he held. Now she knew she was drunk, or nearly drunk. She was having a hard time following his reasoning, and once when he asked her a question, she had to mumble that she didn't know what he was talking about.
"Sure you do, Cammy," he said, snatching another quick look at her thighs. Her skirt had ridden up again and she was afraid of standing up to tug it down. The malt liquor was really getting to her. She felt suddenly very brave. She felt as if the fix she was in was a silly illusion, a play she was reciting.
"You keep looking at my legs," she said to her teacher. "Would you like to touch them?"
"I beg your pardon?" Mr. Anderson stammered. His face was red but Cammy also noticed there was a lump in his pants.
"They're nice legs, don't you think?" She couldn't believe she was saying these things, but the malt liquor kept her from losing her nerve. "Aren't they nice?"
"They're magnificent legs," Mr. Anderson said unexpectedly. He stared again. Camilla took his wrist and put his hand against her thigh.
"Feel how firm I am. Go on, squeeze me!" Mr. Anderson squeezed. "Jesus!" he murmured, "what am I doing?"
"You're feeling my leg!" Cammy giggled. She was drunk. "Try the other one if you want!"
It felt good when Mr. Anderson slipped his finger higher, petting the satin smooth skin of her inner thigh. Then his finger touched the crotch of her panties and it felt even better.
Cammy tried to remember all the things Janet had been telling her about sex being good and healthy and all. She closed her eyes and leaned against Mr. Anderson's shoulder. He wasn't a bad looking guy. When he took his glasses off, he was even kinda handsome.
"You're nice," Cammy sighed. "You touch me nice!"
"Camilla, I don't quite know what to say."
"Ohhhhhh," Camilla moaned, moving her hips as her teacher pushed his finger against the taut, damp band of silk that stretched across her young pussy. He rubbed her and she turned her mouth up to be kissed. Mr. Anderson's tongue went between her teeth and he pulled her body hard against him. Suddenly, his fingers were stretching the elastic of her panties as he forced her crotchband aside. His finger danced over her clit, and she arched her back.
"Uhh, uhhh, uhhh!" she gasped, pumping her hips, rubbing her hot cunt hard against his touching. Camilla was drunk, but not too drunk to realize that what was happening might help her out of her academic predicament. Surely her teacher wasn't going to flunk a girl who was making him feel so good!
"Ohhh, Mr. Anderson, you make me feel so funny!" Cammy found the zipper of his slacks and jerked it down. Her long, white fingers snaked into the tangle of his skivvies and pulled his cock free. She had him in her hand now, all seven or eight inches. He felt huge, and his cock as thick as an ax handle. She jacked the skin of his prick, remembering how Ralph had liked it. Mr. Anderson did too.
"Camilla! You'd better stop that… ohhhhhhhhh!"
Cammy remembered how Ralph's cock had started throbbing just before his cum had spurted out. Mr. Anderson's prick was doing that right now! She looked down at his swollen cock-head. It was a purplish blue and the veins of his cock-shaft stuck out. Cammy jerked his cock-skin up and down.
"Stop that!" Mr. Anderson said.
"Don't you like it?" Cammy pouted.
"Yes… no! Damn it, girl, get your hands off me."
"But you're gonna come!" Cammy said, watching the droplet of hot cream drip onto Mr. Anderson's pants. "You don't want to stop now, or it might kill you!"
"You've got to stop!" Mr. Anderson still grasped her wrist, but he wasn't pulling her hand away. Camilla squeezed her fingers around his bulging cock-tip and let the pressure off. Squeezing and releasing, she watched another drop of cum make a long string as it fell to the floor between Mr. Anderson's shoes.