Extra Credit for Sybil

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“You know the phone’s ringing, right?”

“I can hear it, Earl.”

“Should I come over there and get it?”

“Let the machine pick up.”

“Could be important.”

“It’s been ringing like that all afternoon. It’ll be another instructor from over at the community college.”

“Why’d they be calling here?”

“To sign me up for one of their classes.”

“They think you want to go back to school?”

“Not hardly. Somebody thought they saw Mr. Maisloch, the calculus teacher, with his pecker down my throat. Now I guess it’s all over the school.”

“Did they?”

“Did they what?”

“See Mr. Maisloch with his pecker down your throat?”

“No, they most certainly did not.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“He’d already pulled it out.”

“How’d he manage to get it down your throat in the first place?”

“Don’t shout, I’m right here.”

“All right. I’m not shouting. How did he get his pecker down your throat?”

“It was not easy, let me tell you. Guy could use a few lessons in anatomy.”

“So, you just said to yourself, ‘it’s such a nice day, I think I’ll go over and let Mr. Maisloch stick his dick down my throat?’ “

“Of course not! Don’t be gross. I went over there to talk to somebody about Peggy Pratt’s grade. It just happened to be Mr. Maisloch.”

“Peggy Pratt? The kid down the street?”

“Hardly a kid anymore. She’s working at the property management company now. Almost a year. They told her she’d get a raise and more responsibility if she took some business classes. But, she’s got to maintain a B average. Right now she’s getting a D in calc. Brings her whole average down.”

“How’d she get you involved?”

“Would you stop getting so worked up? It wasn’t like she asked me. I asked her how classes were going and she told me she wasn’t doing so well in calculus. I went over—on my own—to see if I could nudge the teacher to fix her grade.”

“And he figured he might as well get a blow job for his trouble.”

“I didn’t plan it that way. Things got a little out of hand. My plan, if you’ll let me explain, was to let Mr. Maisloch know what an asshole Peggy’s boss is, and could he take that into consideration. Kind of ooonch up her grade. It was for a good cause.”

“She couldn’t tell him that herself?”

“And have it get back to her boss she called him an asshole?”

“Okay, let her mother do it.”

“You’re not using your head, Earl. She’d be one more mama bear protecting her cub. Mr. Maisloch wouldn’t take that seriously. It had to come from somebody neutral.”

“No, I get that. I’m not seeing how Mr. Maisloch’s dick ends up in your mouth because Peggy’s boss is an asshole.”

“I said I didn’t plan it that way. I went over this morning, to catch him before classes started. I did get myself dolled up a little bit, so I’d make a good impression.”

“You could’ve called him. Save the wear and tear on your tonsils.”

“It was for a good cause. He’d see me taking the trouble to come over in person. And because they can’t hang up on you if you’re sitting right there. Anyway, I had a speech all prepared how hard Peggy worked taking care of the properties around here while she was still in high school. How she went full time the summer she graduated. How her boss is a total asshole, which, like I said, sounds better coming from me than from her.”

“The phone’s ringing again.”

“Let the machine pick up. I’m tired of answering it.”

“We’re never answering our phone again?”

“It may take a while for them to get the message and quit calling.”

“Why?”

“I’m telling you, if you’ll stop interrupting. I go over and get the room number from the admin office. I find the classroom and peek in the little side window. I can see he’s at his desk, and there’s no one else in the classroom. I march in, sit myself down, and start right away saying there’s something about Peggy he should tekirdağ escort know, how hard she’s working, doing school and the job, but before I really get rolling, he says I’m so glad to hear that, because I was afraid you planned on trading sex for a grade.”

“He just came out with it like that?”

“Just like that, yes. I was, like, whoa. But I didn’t let him see that he’d shocked me. I did smile, and said it wasn’t my plan, and he says, my apologies, no offense. I said none taken, and he says I should’ve known Peggy wouldn’t send her mom.”

“Ouch.”

“Let me tell you, that frosted me, I have to admit, because I am not nearly as old as Peggy’s mom, thank you very much. Who, I might add, had a birthday just last month. That’s all I’m saying about that. But, still, I didn’t show it. I kept my cool, smiled, you know, and crossed my legs. I gave a little tug on my skirt, and let it ride up enough so he could see I was wearing real stockings with garters, not pantyhose. Let him know what he’d be missing if I had come in, serious about some last-minute extra credit for a better grade.”

“Starting to sound like the old days.”

“I’m still miffed at him, so I asked—just making conversation, but turning it around on him, you know—I asked if a cute guy like him gets a lot of students chasing him around his desk for an A. He says, no, because they all know when it comes to extra credit, I am not an easy grader. I make them show their work, put in the effort.”

“Which Peggy should be doing.”

“I told him I only came by to give him that background on why she’s taking the class, and what an asshole her boss is, and would any of that make a difference. Best you could get out of me, he says, is a C. But we both know that’s not enough to raise Peggy’s average. He’s thinking we’re done, and he comes out from behind the desk, resting against it, thanking me for coming by, how much he enjoys having Peggy in the class, how he appreciates my concern, yada yada yada.”

“Sounds like a nice enough fella.”

“You’re always seeing the glass half full, Earl. I could see what he was doing.”

“All right, I’m missing it. What’s he doing?”

“Throwing a challenge my way. So I start swinging my leg, my shoe slipping off my heel. The open-toed slingbacks? Just letting it dangle, you know, showing off my pedicure. Not to brag, I said to him, but back in the day, if there was an A in your pants, I’d be the one to get it out. I laugh so he knows I’m kidding, flirting with him, and he laughs, but I can see he’s hoping I’m not kidding. Probably wouldn’t stand a chance with you, he says, still laughing. I said thank you, that makes up for you thinking I was Peggy’s mom, which keeps him laughing. But he’s safe, I told him. I haven’t needed to use sex for grades since high school. I was kind of famous for my classroom participation, and we both laugh. That’s the secret, you know. Humor gets you around most people’s defenses.”

“Making me guard the door.”

“Years ago, Earl. You’ve got to let that go. Somebody had to do it, and I couldn’t be in two places at once.”

“I guess some things don’t change.”

“They don’t, I’m telling you. It all came back to me. Like riding a bike. So, I tied up my hair, and said to him, if I remember right, the most important thing about working for extra credit is showing up with—”

“—the right materials.”

“—the right materials, right.”

“I must’ve heard that line a thousand times.”

“Don’t exaggerate.”

“Okay. Nine hundred times.”

“It gets the job done. Because he scurries around behind his desk, thanking me again for coming in, saying how much he appreciated the visit. I’m guessing he’s hiding a boner, you know, and I’m not about to let it go to waste. His gradebook won’t change itself. So, I slip off my shoes, plant my bee-hind on the desk and swing around, stretching my tekirdağ escort bayan legs out, blocking him off with my feet on the wall to either side of him. Now I’ve got him trapped between the desk and the whiteboard. Sure enough, he’s got a boner. I slide my foot along his calf and drag my finger up the bulge, while I’m unbuttoning my blouse with my other hand.”

“Multi-tasking. Always a strong suit of yours.”

“Makes it hard for them to concentrate when so much is happening. I’m telling you, it comes back to you. He’s totally flustered, saying, I guess we could call this showing your work. He laughs, this nervous little rabbit laugh. You know, when guys laugh like that, it makes me feel like the fox.”

“In the henhouse.”

“I can’t waste time and let him get cold feet, so I go right at it, unzipping his fly, untucking his shirt, and pushing down his pants and boxers, taking hold of his pecker. Can you imagine Mrs Pratt doing this? I can’t imagine her doing this for Mr. Pratt, much less a young guy like Mr. Maisloch. Who is not too bad in the size department.”

“I’m surprised he let you do that. Since you’re not the one taking his class.”

“I’m guessing he decided along with me it was for a good cause. He didn’t seem to mind when I started stroking him. I’m telling you. I could feel his heartbeat pulsing along it, little rabbit thump-thump-thumps. I rolled it between my fingers like a cigar, thumbing that sweet spot under the head, and rattling his balls around in my other hand.”

“You know I can do without all the gory details.”

“You wanted to know why they keep calling, right? I’m telling you. Anyway, the whole time I’m working on him, he keeps talking. He’s going on like he’s narrating a documentary. You never do that.”

“I don’t usually have that much to say. I leave it to you.”

“Well, he wouldn’t shut up. He keeps going on about how the air conditioning feels on his naked thighs. How soft my hands are. How this isn’t something he usually permits, honest. How he appreciates the freckles on my bosom. How the dean will have a shit fit. How he’s so sorry he thought I was Mrs Pratt. I wanted to pinch his balls to shut him up, but that would kill the mood. He’s breathing hard like he’s trying to hold out, which I realize is probably a good thing, because we haven’t gotten to the grade yet. So I ask him if this is the kind of extra credit that’ll raise a grade, and he says, this, probably, when I think about it, is definitely worth a C plus, and he breathes out real hard then says, maybe, oh boy, maybe a B minus.”

“Used to be, one of your hand jobs by itself was worth a B plus.”

“Don’t remind me, Earl. Anyway, I know that grade is not going to do her any good. So I slip off the desk and crouch down in front of him, working up more spit, making sure my mouth’s wet enough. I fit my lips down over him and he starts making these little oh-oh-oh sounds, and I can’t tell if he’s trying to stop himself, or if he’s getting close, and I know I can’t let him off with anything less than an A at best. So, before he lets fly, I clamp my thumb and finger around his pecker and hold tight.”

“You do have quite a grip.”

“Something momma taught me, to slow you down. He’s still going on, with the oh jeez, oh jeez, oh jeez, it’s warm, he says, like standing by a campfire, he says, and it’s buzzing like little bees all up and down my legs. I’m trying to concentrate on his pecker, and thinking, can’t he shut up and focus on Peggy’s grade. But no, he keeps going on, saying, it’s true, it’s true, your toes really do curl up like everyone says. Does everyone really say that?”

“It’s been known to happen.”

“Momma said clamping off a guy’s pecker like that seems to wake up the nerves. It must have done it for him, because now he’s saying he can feel the bumps on my tongue, and asking if he tastes sweet escort tekirdağ or sour to me, and I’m thinking he’s hallucinating.”

“Most guys don’t think straight when they find themselves in that situation.”

“I was going to make use of that, and slide him further down my throat, but he gets ahead of me, and thrusts himself hard, stabbing me in the back of the throat. Ohmigod, he says, I must be all the way down to your lungs.”

“Your lungs?”

“I told you he didn’t have a good grasp of anatomy.”

“Guys like to think they’re longer than they really are.”

“He’s thrusting now, not letting me work, but he says, oh yes, this is an A, this is a solid A. Doesn’t matter, though. I realize I’ll have to give him the full treatment.”

“Why? You got the A.”

“I couldn’t be sure it was enough to put Peggy’s average over the top. It’s not like I’m the math genius in the family, Earl. I had to go for it and use the kind of extra credit that got me honors in Algebra.”

“Algebra. I can still see the look on Mr. Nudley’s face.”

“Like it was yesterday. I push Mr. Maisloch’s pants and boxers all the way off, tapping his legs so he’ll spread them. I raise up, getting my behind on the desk edge, but still bent over, him still in my mouth, my strangle hold on his pecker. Then I whip around on my back, never letting go of his pecker. Another trick momma showed me. Momma said, usually you have to bite down, keep the tip between your teeth, so you don’t lose him. But he had my head between his hands, he wasn’t going to let me go. Once I was on my back on the desk, I get a hand behind his knee and get him to put one foot up on the desk. I’m pushing back on him, so I’ve got room to do The Anaconda.”

“The Anaconda? You gave it a name?”

“Momma called it that. Said it looked like an anaconda swallowing its dinner, an inch at a time, working it down the gullet. He’s still talking, saying oh, shit, this is beyond amazing, which makes me wonder if there’s a Mrs Maisloch. But he’s slowing down, taking longer strokes. Now he decides to take his time. I’m thinking I can’t hold my breath much longer, I have to get him to an A plus before I start choking. I manage to snake my hand up and get a finger into his bum, wiggling it around, and that does the trick. I’ve got him shouting out, oh, fuck, A plus, oh, fuck, A plus, and then I relax my grip on his pecker and he shoots, all the time saying he can see himself in my trachea, watching himself come.”

“Yep. Anatomy is not his strong suit.”

“I’d tell him to be quiet, but he still got his pecker down my throat. He’s starting to go soft, and not a moment too soon. I gasp this big old gasp, and I’m drooling juice down the sides of my cheeks, getting it in my hair. There goes my ‘do’ I say to myself, but, like I said, it’s for a good cause. I have to remember to hit the ladies’ room to comb it out before I leave.”

“Just like the old days.”

“I told you. It comes back to you. Anyway, I’m still on my back and he’s holding my head admiring his handiwork, and the door opens. I really missed having you there like the old days. I can’t see who it was, but somebody, some guy, says oh shit, sorry, and pops back out. Suddenly, Mr Maisloch is pulling on his pants, dancing around, trying to zip up, and get his belt buckled, and all the time he’s saying this never happens to me, this never happens to me, this is why this never happens to me. Meantime, I’m doing up my blouse, grabbing up my shoes and racing to get out of there. I get back here and—I should have known—the phone’s already ringing off the hook.”

“I get that it’s been a while, back before we were married, and all of it for a good cause. I understand that. But Sybil—I have to ask.”

“What, Earl?”

“Did you at least make sure Maisloch changed the grade?”

“Oh.”

“You didn’t, did you.”

“Oh. No. I was in such a hurry to get out of there, I completely forgot. Well, now I feel silly. See that’s why I needed you there.”

“There’s the telephone again. I still don’t understand why they keep calling.”

“To get me signed up for their classes.”

“Why?”

“For the extra credit, Earl. They’re all hoping to get a little of that extra credit.”

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