Teaching Dat Ass

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Lights off, projector on, time to teach these kids some Calculus. Mr. G projected the first graph from last night’s homework on the smart board. “Who would like to draw the derivative of that function on the board?” No one immediately raised their hand, that was normal. Mr. G walked around the room giving them time to build the courage and debating on who to call on should no one volunteer. Megan was the safe bet if he wanted a student to immediately get it right so they could cruise though the homework review, but if he wanted that then he’d just do it himself. Cassidy needs the practice, but she’ll likely be in after school today to get one-on-one help. Maddie needs the practice and isn’t likely to practice on her own.

The minute of wait time was just about up, but right before Mr. G could call on Maddie, Alaina’s hand shot up. Had it been another student, Mr. G likely would not have seen the hand in the darkened room before calling on Maddie, but not Alaina’s hand. The six foot tall star volleyball and tennis player, with her long arm raised straight up into the air in the center of the room, there was no missing her.

Mr. G slid into an empty seat in the back of the room as Alaina walked up to the board. He liked seeing the room from the student’s perspective and giving the student the teacher’s feel while explaining the problem. A different style might be more encouraging for students like Maddie who hated the lime light, but Mr. G tried to make students reluctantly accept that making a mistake was no big deal rather than fostering this fear of being caught in a mistake. Mistakes were just a part of learning, a part of being human and students needed to learn that.

With her back to the class, Alaina picked up the electronic pen to write on the smart board and that’s when Mr. G realized his mistake. With the lights off and projector on, it was like there was a spotlight on her and center stage, was dat ass.

Alaina was wearing black yoga pants so tight they might as well have been painted on. He and everyone else in the class could see every curve below the waist. With him seated and her six feet tall, dat ass was directly eye level and how could you do anything but look at it. You could the horizontal crease where her thigh stopped and her butt bubbled out. From there you could follow the curves as they hugged each individual ass cheek and could see the clear vertical line that separated the two cheeks.

It may have actually only been a second but Mr. G felt guilty for staring at a student’s ass for what felt like an eternity. Mental images logged, he had to look elsewhere, his eyes should have moved up to the problem she was working on, but instead they followed the curves of her legs down. Past her thigh gap, following the curves of her legs as they went in and out around her strong thighs, slender knees and developed calves.

The snicker as one male student whispered to another snapped Mr. G back into the moment. In situations like this, it was best to deal with it quickly and without the students realizing he was dealing with it. There was a code among students, you don’t rat each other out. If they knew he knew, then they’d feel free to comment, but they’d keep it to their loose lipped gossip if they believed it would just stay amongst the students. Not that they were ever actually careful about what they said in front of a teacher, but once they were emboldened with publically addressing the issue, that’s when he could lose them.

Mr. G hoped that she’d just finish the problem quickly, but she stalled halfway through, unsure of how to proceed past the vertical tangent line. Normally, Mr. G would ask a leading question here, point of the slope of the line, ask her to assign a value to it and then draw her derivative to that value, instead he jumped up and said “Yea that’s a trick I threw in. Joey, what’s happening to the slope of the line at x = 2?”

Put on the spot, Joey couldn’t think about dat ass anymore but was redirected to calculus. And the rest of the students, now aware that the spotlight was shifting and that any of them could be called on at any moment, where now averting glances, looking away from the Mr. G’s glare and more importantly looking away from dat ass. Mr. G thanked Alaina for her participation and then continued to draw the rest of the derivative. Class resumed and most of the class was blissfully unaware that Mr. G suffered a crisis of conscious.

After notes, as Mr. G circled the room helping various students with individual questions and getting started on the homework, he discretely placed the dress code violation on Alaina’s desk. He tapped the desk twice as he placed it, distracting her from her conversation with her neighbor. She looked at the paper and then made eye contact with Mr. G and then he moved on to the next desk before a word was said.

* * * * * * * * * *

“How come you gave me a dress code violation?” Alaina asked in a hostile tone as she returned to Mr. G’s room after school.

“I believe I wrote why ataşehir escort on the slip, but basically because of your dress not following the code.”

“This isn’t fair, Maddy had tight pants on too and you didn’t write her up.”

“You don’t know who I gave dress code violations to. I feel I was pretty discrete about the whole affair.”

“No you didn’t. I talked with her about it at lunch and she agreed you’re being totally unfair.”

“She agreed that she should get a dress code violation?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Right now you should be making arguments for your innocence not other’s guilt because believe me I don’t have a problem writing more dress code violations.”

“It’s not like I’m purposely buying tight pants. That’s what they sell in the store and I shouldn’t be punished for a lack of options.”

“Better, but I’m not buying it. You buy and wear those clothes because you like the style.”

“Oh so now I’m being persecuted based on my personal choices.”

Mr. G huffed and took a moment to think. “Let’s just cut to the chase. I’m normally pretty lenient when it comes to dress code violations but you are just so over the line. Your pants are way tighter than Maddy’s or anyone else you want to compare yourself to.”

“They’re not that tight.”

Mr. G started laughing. “Have you seen those on you in the mirror?”

His laughter completely disarmed her. She mumbled a soft why but it was barely audible. He had laughed at how ridiculous her claim of ignorance was, but to a teenager girl laughter in the context of her looks just brings insecurities to the surface. She knew they were tight but what if he thought that she personally shouldn’t be wearing clothes that tight. She’s heard female teachers make comments like that about some of her other classmates. She’s made comments like that about some of her other classmates. But Alaina wasn’t one of those girls, she didn’t have a fat ass, or did she? She finally broke eye contact to look back, trying unsuccessfully to see her own backside. Was it too large and her tight clothes were just making her a laughing stock?

With eye contact broken, Mr. G’s eyes also finally felt permission to look. Her ass now in profile, it was like a round peach waiting to be plucked. His eyes only had half a second to soak it in before they snapped back, he couldn’t risk get caught staring; that would be bad. His biggest fear as a new teacher was being exposed as a pervert. Fortunately his eyes were back to looking at her face when she returned her eyes to meet his gaze.

“I’m not fat,” she finally said to break the long silence.

“Of course not,” Mr. G said with grin. He couldn’t help it. Smiling, grinning, laughing, that was his mechanism for dealing with awkward situations, but it was the last thing a sensitive teenager girl wanted to hear. “Do you have your phone on you?”

“No, I left my purse in my locker.”

Mr. G reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Do you want to see what I’m talking about?”

“Yes,” she said shyly. It felt surreal as she turned around for Mr. G to photograph her ass. Her blue T-shirt barely came down to her waste, but she lifted it slightly all the same so now about an inch of her bare back was exposed.

The phone made no sound as he snapped the picture since he kept it on silent during school hours. The reality of the situation struck him as the saved image appeared on his phone. All he wanted to lean in and stick his face in-between those two perfect round cheeks. What he did instead was snap a second picture.

He showed her the first photo of dat ass. “Now I’m going to try my best to move past to the awkwardness of this situation and get to the point. If you want to wear this on the weekends to drive the boys wild, then all the power to you because you look great.” She giggled slightly and her eyes filled with relief. “But that’s not the point. This is inappropriate for school and I wouldn’t wear something like this to work either.”

“Well not with your legs.” Mr. G laughed, taken off guard he nearly dropped his phone. “That’s not a fair comparison,” she continued. “You wouldn’t dress like that on the weekends either. Why is your personal style acceptable but mine isn’t?”

“See these lines here and here” Mr. G said as he pointed to the screen showing how the fabric of the pants followed the lines at the bottom of her ass and the crack between her two cheeks. “It’s tough to define how tight is too tight, but at a bare minimum, your ass crack shouldn’t be visible if your pants are on.” Alaina blushed. “Sitting through this is probably punishment enough so how about you clean my white boards and I won’t hand the dress code violation in to the assistant principal. No formal detention, no disciplinary points on your record.”

Mr. G took out some papers and tried to grade while Alaina cleaned the boards, but he only got 1 quiz question graded on 1 paper when he looked up and saw dat ass. He watched it move with her body kadıköy escort bayan as she wiped the board clean. This morning they were like a nervous performer, shrinking in the spotlight with all eyes on her, frozen with fright. Now she was ready to perform performer, the muscles twitching and moving, dat ass dancing in circles as her arm made concurrent movements on the board. This time Mr. G didn’t have the sense to look away before she was done so she caught him staring.

It’s possible that she didn’t know he was staring directly at dat ass. He was sufficiently far away such that there was only a slight difference in angle between looking at dat ass, or her head, or the board. Maybe she’d believe he was checking the quality of her cleaning job. He tried to quickly look away and make it look like he was scanning the room, but it probably made it all the more obvious. If she did notice, she gave no hint of it. She smiled at him, picked up her books and turned to leave.

And then she paused before reaching the door. “Before I go, I should delete that photo off your phone.”

“Huh? Oh yea sure, of course” stammered Mr. G. Now it was his turn to blush. He fumbled with the phone and dropped it while trying to hand it to her.

She picked it up, did some swipes with her finger, and then paused for a moment. It was only a moment, less than a full second that she stared at the screen but in that moment Mr. G’s worried mind filled with a day’s worth of thoughts and concerns. Did she see the second picture? Why does it mean that he took two? Does she think he’s a perv? Maybe he just accidentally hit the button twice. Maybe he thought the first one was blurry. Maybe he really is a perv. He should have emailed them away while she cleaned the board. No, he should have deleted them himself.

When the moment was over, she just handed Mr. G the phone back with a smile. “See you tomorrow.”

Once she was gone Mr. G quickly checked his phone. The phone was back on the main screen. He opened the image folder with dread. He knew it was gone, that all he had left was his memories, but he had to check to make sure. He wanted to keep it so badly, but he knew it was wrong. Its removal was for the best, but how often is the right thing the thing you really want to do?

And that’s when he saw that only one of the photos was deleted. His heart and the man downstairs both leapt with joy but his head filled with dread. What does that mean? Did she knowingly leave it?

* * * * * * * * * *

The next morning Mr. G was on edge. He knew he should have deleted the remaining photo, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He wanted it too badly. He pulled out his phone to look at the picture once more. At least she was 18. He checked her records three times last night just to make sure he didn’t misread anything.

“Excuse me Mr. G,” Cassidy had come into his room looking for homework help. She was still by the doorway, far away from her desk, no way she could have seen his screen, but it was another worry added on to his mind though as he put his phone away.

It was while helping her with the homework that Alaina popped in. He was deep in an explanation in the middle of a problem when she walked in. She left before he could finish his thought and thus didn’t get a chance to speak to her. What could she have wanted? These questions nagged him down, kept him less focused throughout the day, especially during period 4.

Alaina wore khakis and a white T. The shirt was loose while the pants a little tight but nothing worth writing a dress code over. Mr. G was so nervous about getting caught looking at her that he overcorrected and made it a point to not look directly at her. Only through the corners of his eyes was he able to obtain any images of her. They were partial pictures but he used his memory to fill in the blanks. She sat there with her legs crossed. Bouncing her right knee over the other, chewing on her pencil with those pearly white teeth. Her lips, a soft shade of pink from her lipstick. Make-up applied to make her look older and more adult. Her eyes a warming shade of hazel. Her hair, brown with blonde highlights, perfectly straight it came down several inches past her shoulders. He saw her sit there all day, long past period 4 when her physical body had left the room.

Finally when the last period of the day ended, he laid out on a student desk and let the image consume him. The desks fit 2 students, large enough to for his ass and head to be supported while his legs dangled off the end. His hands he moved under his head so they wouldn’t be tempted to move to perform inappropriate acts while he day dreamed about her at work. And it’s a good thing he did because he didn’t lay there long before she walked in.

“Long day?” Alaina asked as she walked into the room carrying her books with two arms, held closed to her chest.

“You could say that.” Mr. G grunted as he sat up in the desk.

“I meant to talk to you this morning but you were busy.”

“Yea escort maltepe Cassidy had some questions, but you could have joined our review.”

“Oh I didn’t have any calculus questions. I just wanted to know if I was safe.” Alaina turned around so her back faced Mr. G. Then she turned her head to look back at him over her shoulder. “What do you think?”

Her pants were tight, much tighter than you’d ever see a stereotypical guy in. The tanned kaki fabric around her legs was clearly stretched so that there were horizontal racing stripes running down the back of her leg, but dat ass was effectively covered. You could still clearly see exactly where she was, but the thicker material covered the defining lines that made the dress code violation so blatant yesterday. As he studied dat ass he realized that he could see subtle lines that marked the outline of her panties. And at the center, ever so slightly, there were horizontal folds in the fabric as the material stretched the gap between her butt cheeks. Much less pronounced than the wrinkles in the fabric running down her leg, but they were there.

“Tough call?” she asked he had a solid minute of staring at her ass.

Mr. G blushed again and looked up at her face. “I think you’re fine.”

“Are you coming to our game tonight?” Alaina asked with a bounce as she turned around to face him.

“Um, I wasn’t planning on it. I have a lot of grading to do.”

“Oh please, Mr. G. You should come. It’ll be a lot of fun.”

“Ok I’ll consider it after I get something to eat.”

“Good,” she paused for a moment and then added, “but just to warn you, our volleyball uniforms are pretty scandalous.” Mr. G let out a fake awkward laugh but didn’t say anything. “Why is it that our sports uniforms aren’t made to fit the dress code? If the code is really about modesty, then shouldn’t it still be important then?”

“Well, um I think it’s a heat removal thing. You have to be more practical about clothing when you’re active.”

“The boys don’t wear tiny short shorts and they perform just fine.”

“I don’t know, I ran track in high school and those shorts were pretty tiny.”

“I bet that was a sight,” she said with a smile. “But the rest of the guys sports are significantly more modest. They run around just as much in basketball and do fine with the longer shorts. If those tiny tight shorts actually gave a significant advantage then every guy would be wearing them for every sport.”

“Yea that’s true. I guess it’s just society of what became the norm for each sport.”

“Hey if that’s all I can find in the store isn’t an excuse for me than that’s not one for the school. The school buys a lot of uniforms, they have much more power than I do to demand change, and yet here they go promoting that girls wear tiny clothes at sporting events but not in class. I don’t get this double standard.”

Mr. G was unsure how to respond. “You make some good points.”

“So you’ll talk to the assistant principal then about how the dress code is hypocritical and unjust?”

“Um… how about I just see you tonight at the game?”

“Deal.” She said with a smile. She spun around and left so that Mr. G could watch dat ass go.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Mr. G, you came to the game! I saw you in the stands”

Mr. G looked up from the papers he was grading to find Alaina cheerfully standing next to his desk. “Yea it was fun. You did well out there.”

“We did OK. It would have been nice if we won.”

“Eh, you can’t win them all.”

“I’d settle for more than half at this point. You need to come to our rival game next week. We need that added cheer to keep us motivated.”

“Yea that’d be fun.”

“Make sure to bring your camera again.”

Mr. G blushed slightly and looked down, only for a moment, but it was enough for him to get his first good look at her outfit. She was wearing a cotton gray skirt that hugged her hips and then got narrower as he followed it down to where it ended just past her knees. She looked so adult in it, like something a professional woman would wear when she wanted to be taken serious but still look gorgeous.

“Yea,” he said once his eyes rejoined hers. “I figured I could submit a few to the yearbook if I get any good pics.”

“Yea, I mean it’s not like every student and parent wasn’t already taking videos with their phone.”

“Those camera phone pictures are going to be too blurry for the yearbook.”

“Oh well if that’s the case why don’t you show me these professional photos you took.”

“Um, yea sure. I can print you off a set later.”

“Later? Just show them to me now on your computer.”

“Um, yea I guess.” She put her hand on his shoulder and leaned in close so she could see his laptop screen. He minimized the quiz he had open and brought up the pictures folder on his computer. Frantically his mind’s eye searched his memory of the folder before he slowly dragged the mouse over to actually open it. Anything provocative was stored away safely on his external hard drive at home. Then to the volleyball folder he had just created last night. He had already gone through the photos and nothing was directly perverted or anything different from what a parent would take, and yet still something about this felt very wrong.

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