The Fox and the Wolf

*Author's note: all characters portrayed in this story are eighteen or older. Feedback is welcomed, desired and appreciated. Just don't hurt my feelings!*

*****

The classroom was a mess, people separated in loud companies, guys throwing paper airplanes, gals talking loudly about their nails or hair and others sitting quietly, waiting patiently by the seats they had chosen for the rest of the school year. It was raining heavily outside, so what little time the class had before the lessons started, they needed to spend inside. My girlfriends were over there by my desk, the desk in the front row and the closest one to the whiteboard; Marie and Suzie were grinning at me foolishly, giggling from time to time at what I was up to, chatting so privately with our new math professor. I was sitting on a chair next to the professor's desk, casually talking to him... maybe not so casually, as a matter of fact.

"I honestly hope you find the new environment... intriguing, sir," I said to him with my subtle, fox-like smile and that innocent voice. He'd just been transferred to the suburbs, and I thought I should be the first to make an impression. Before I'd approached him, I'd made sure my cleavage was open, showcasing all the goods that men loved about my top. If those weren't enough to win him over, my smile would do the trick.

"Oh, I find the new environment most welcoming, you can be sure of that," my professor was saying, almost defensively, refraining from looking directly at me as if, had he dared to, he would slip and take me right there. He pretended to be busy pulling out papers from his suitcase and readying himself for the lecture. I knew how to read men, and this one was all lust, though a carefully reserved one. His wife wouldn't have been satisfying him properly, I thought. I pulled my eyebrows together, slightly annoyed that he resisted me - he cleverly countered me, using welcoming instead of intriguing, which suggested other things. I decided to shift gears.

"I'll admit, math was never my strong suit," I cooed, sounding somewhat let-down on purpose. In fact, that was a lie. I was a star in school. "Last semester was a disaster. I'd like it if you'd show me some personal guidance." I leaned towards him, teasing the view of my tits that any guy in this school drooled thinking of. Mr. Phillips stopped sorting his papers and looked at me rather sternly. He was kind of cute, with his closely cropped beard, brown eyes, round face and straight nose; but he was too old, like fifty or something. Waaay too old. I could not even begin to imagine him ravishing a young flower like myself.

I released my long, blonde hair, letting it fly above the desk, something I knew added to my sex appeal. But he would have none of it.

"I will make sure you have no questions by the end of this class, Ms..." he looked through the list of students, "... Rousseau."

I couldn't believe he just said that! Ms. Rousseau. How dare he talk to me like that! I wasn't used to being called miss. I'd already told that bastard my name was Christina. I huffed and got up from the chair, straightening my chest; he'd already returned to his papers, missing the haughty look I threw at him before I hurried back to my girlfriends. They were covering her mouths with their hands, their shoulders rocking with laughter.

"Seduction don't work like in the movies sister, you know that," Marie screamed so she could be heard through the fuss. I sat sulking on my chair next to the black girl, ignoring her; I stared at our new professor with hostility. My girlfriends had challenged me to flirt with him earlier and I wasn't one to back out - if I lured freshmen to my net with guile, why not professors too?

Marie and Suzie didn't dare mention that I failed to woo our new professor. Risking a queen's wrath is something you should avoid altogether. "Damn, girl," Marie went on awkwardly, "he's a tough nut to crack, ain't he?"

"Maybe he doesn't like girls," fat Suzie suggested, giggling stupidly; I paid her little attention.

"Oh, you think he's gay?" Marie retorted.

"No, he isn't," I said with my usual confidence. "All men are the same. All they want is sex, you can see it in their eyes. He'll flip, I know it. They can't resist for long."

"Hey, umm, girls?" Marie said suddenly, and she and Suzie leaned close to me so we could talk privately. "Tray asked me for anal," she said without preamble. She had a wild look about her, as if she was excited and scared at the proposition at the same time. I'd heard guys saying Marie had a butt made for anal, but I honestly couldn't see it. It was too big, how could any guy like that kind of butt?

I laughed loudly at the thought of anal and Marie and Suzie joined me too. "Eww. Ugh, anal? That's so slutty, you aren't a whore, Marie." We were definitely a classy bunch, me and my girlfriends. At least I was. The thought of putting something near there was ridiculous. Only trashy girls did anal. Marie was about to say something, when the bell rang.

The new professor hurried everyone to their seats and introduced himself. His name was Gregory Phillips, math professor, and he was here to teach us a thing or two, blah blah. I leaned on my elbow on my desk, thinking that if he was fifteen years younger, he would be a hottie. As he spoke, his gaze did run past me a couple of times and I imagined his short beard brushing against my face as we kissed, but his face changed into a younger person in my fantasy that wasn't quite Mr. Phillips. I was desperately horny, having spent a summer with my uptight and old fashioned grandma who was on the lookout for cheeky boys I might bring home. Not that I'd do anything but make out with them or let them go down on me. I was still a virgin, truly, but no one would've guessed.

Mr. Phillips went on reading the list of the students in the class, to get acquainted with them. I'd forgotten that new people would be joining the class. I glanced at each of them as they stood up to introduce themselves with a semi-bored look on my face. There were a couple of cute new guys who I wouldn't mind teasing, few girls that didn't look pretty enough to be any dangerous to my game. When all of those were introduced, I began turning away, disinterested in the rest, but there one student in the far back of the class had yet to be introduced. He didn't stand up when his name was called.

"Alex Hunter," the professor said.

When my eyes first caught sight of him, my breath caught in my throat. He was tan and his muscles were showing through his shirt, wet and sticky from the rain. He was wearing glasses with tough-black skeleton, had a short beard and thick, dark and spiky hair that rose up just the way I loved it. His desk was right beside the window, so now that the rain was over, he was shrouded in a generous light. The sight of his dark-haired angel sent a bolt through my pussy. My panties were wetter than any other time in my life and my heart pounded in my chest.

"Hey," he said deeply to the class, waving one hand, then crossing his arms and staring back at the professor; I tried reading through his blank but powerful expression. I guess he was a serious person; he looked rather intense, as if he was the king of this new Kingdom he was brought in, or so I liked to imagine, which made me all the wetter. The glasses didn't do anything to make him look nerdy. They instead added to this sense of authority he projected. I bit my bottom lip, shifting my legs at the tingling between them. I hadn't seen a guy like him, ever.

Mr. Phillips turned to me. "Christine Rousseau," he said. The class was staring at me.

"What?" I muttered, still in a trance. "Oh. Right." I stood up and faced the class. "Hey guys," I said cheerfully, waving my hand excitedly, bouncing my tits and smiling broadly. That was how I became class president three years in a row. Some of the guys grinned back at me; but I didn't have a single care in the world for them. My eyes travelled to the far end of the class, to the stud with the glasses, curious to see his reaction. I didn't see it. He was just doodling on his notebook.

He was just new, he didn't know that I was this school's queen, nor that my flawless body frame was lusted after and admired and that all the boys would give anything for a chance with me. And here he was, doodling, ignoring my greeting, completely unaware of my existence. I was shocked. He must be gay, I thought, out of spite, or an asshole!

The lecture had started, but there was no way I could concentrate. I spent my time fixing my hair and glancing behind me every so often, to catch a glimpse of the stud in the glasses. One time he was leaning above his notebook, the other times he was staring at the ceiling or outside the window, but never towards me. This wasn't at all like me - usually, it would be me ignoring the guys, not the other way around. But he hadn't even remotely noticed me! I decided that that had to change immediately.

The wait for the next ringing of the bell was torture. I thought of several ways of approaching him, but I then convinced myself if he liked me he would approach me himself. His last name came to mind - Hunter. That had better be symbolic, I thought. I didn't want to wait long... my mind wandered to several outcomes of his approaches, keeping my panties in a constant state of slick wetness. I thought of pushing him to my bed and kissing him, licking his neck as my hands reached inside his boxers... god, I was so hot for him. At this point, I was trying to resist the urge to put my hand inside my soaked panties.

The bell brought me back to reality. Marie came over to my desk and said, "Christine, Tray said we should hang outside."

"Uh, sure," I muttered, glancing behind me one more time. My breath caught my in throat again when I saw him, standing up this time. He was pretty tall and muscular, obviously working out with weights. Also, now I could see he was wearing grey shorts and Vans black and white shoes with a chessboard pattern on them. I wondered momentarily if chess was his kind of game. I lost him in the crowd that was moving out and fat Suzie appeared before my face. "Come, Christine, or we'll get trampled."

Outside, there was that thick earthly smell after autumn's rains that I disliked. We sat on a bench under a tree with dried leaves. Marie and Suzie must've been talking about sex again. I wasn't paying attention. My mind was occupied with the making of a plan on how to get Alex to notice me.

Soon enough, Marie's boyfriend Tray and his friend, Matthew showed up, only they weren't just the two of them as per usual; my heart jumped in my chest when I saw Alex walking beside them. There was something godly about him, about his every feature, even the way he walked, proudly and regally, almost like a prince. My mind raced again, trying to understand why a newcomer was hanging out with the old guys. Tray and Matt seemed to know him, by the way they talked.

As they got closer, I could see more of his majesty. His spiky, jet black hair was shining as if it was wet in the sunlight. His eyebrows were well-lined, but not in a repulsive way, rather in a sexy one. The light hair above his chin and his smooth lips made me want to kiss him all the harder. God, I would pounce on him right here in the grass if it was somehow right. I quickly adjusted my coat so it was as much revealing of my breasts as possible. When the company reached us, I averted my eyes, pretending to only look at Matthew for some reason, who looked at my exposed, round breasts hungrily.

"Yo," Tray said by way of greeting, he too stealing a glance at my breasts before sitting on the bench and taking Marie to his knee, "that's Alex, girls, in case you didn't hear. Alex, this is Marie," he said and pinched her waist with a naughty smile, making her giggle and say:

"Hii Alex, pleased to meet ya."

My eyes were fixed on him. He did the sexiest thing; he nodded, giving her a sharp half smile that sparked a flare of jealousy in me for not being directed at me. I straightened my back, further exposing my breasts for him to look at when it was my turn.

"Likewise," the stud said politely in a suave manner that made me raise my eyebrows.

"And this is Suzan," Tray continued, gesturing towards the fatty, who seemed more than happy to be introduced to such a hot guy. She only waved; she must've been drooling in her mouth. Hands off, I thought nastily, he is way out of your league. I would make sure she understood that once this was over.

"Hey Suzan," Alex said, giving her the same, genuine half smile. To my surprise, he didn't seem to mind her unattractiveness, like most boys do.

That moment, I decided that having Tray introduce me would make less of an impression, so I said loudly, "I am Christine, three times president of the class." I'd beat myself over that later, as I was sure how awfully attention-seeking it sounded.

Alex looked at me above his glasses. His eyes were green mixed with gray and honey; I was struck by their spell immediately. There was no lust in them, nor did he ever steal a glance to my open chest. There was something disapproving in his eyes, instead, which I couldn't at the time fathom. He arched his eyebrows slightly. "Were you?" he asked with amusement. His accent was strange, foreign somehow; my first guess was that he was European.

It might've been my imagination, but I thought there was a drip of sarcasm in his voice.

"Sure she was," Matthew intervened, "all guys voted for her."

I almost trembled at what that comment implied. That fool was ruining my image! I swallowed, but I made sure to change the subject. "How do you know each other?"

And Tray was quick to answer. "Oh, y'know, he's an old bud... and such. We hung out in elementary, played football like real pros, right? People, you should know - Alex," he told us, pointing at him and grinning, "Alex's the best artist I've seen. He was painting dragons 'n shit, real as fuck! Made the football team logo, too, it was fuckin' A."

Artist, I thought, interesting. Artists were sensitive people, more able to relate to a girl like me - or so I believed. I looked at Alex, intrigued, wondering if he was anything like an artist should be.

Alex smiled humbly, waving his hand dismissively. "It wasn't anything difficult."

I loved the sight of him, his demeanor and his movements, everything. He wasn't the usual stuck up male that usually stood out; this guy stood out in his own way. I had to shift my legs to relieve the wetness between them. I knew by this point that I had to do everything to fuck this guy.

Matt was taking a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket; he offered one to Tray, Alex and me. I took it, even though I didn't smoke often; Matt lit it for me.

I thought Alex would be smoking too. He wasn't.

"Thanks, but no thanks," he said to Matt, who shrugged and put it back.

"Glad to have you back man, that's all," Matt said. "I heard you dealt with the pest problem over in Masterson Street?"

"Yeah, man..." Tray said, giving Alex a troubled eye, as if something was worrying him. "Heard 'bout that. Word on the street is—"

Alex laughed, stopping him. He was smiling calmly, modestly. "Nah, it wasn't me," he said.

"What're you three talkin' about?" Marie intervened.

"Nothing of major importance," Alex assured her.

Matt sprung up, changing the subject. "Say, Christine, the class is going to the club this Sunday. You're comin', right?"

"Of course," I said without hesitation, but I wondered if Alex would be there; I glanced to see his reaction. He wasn't even looking at me! I huffed in frustration.

"A'ight, cool," Tray said, "I hear it's gonna be the bomb. Can't go without sayin' goodbye to summer."

Suzie asked the question I was dying to ask: "what about Alex, are you coming too?" she was eyeing him almost naughtily, but he didn't seem to notice.

"I'll see what I can do," he only said. He didn't seem the least bit interested, nor excited for the fact that I was going too.

After that, the bell rang and we left for class. My blood was boiling.

Alex had still not spared a look towards me; I couldn't remember the last time I was this vexed. Never had I been more frustrated with a guy, except maybe my dad. All he did while on his desk was doodle, talk to Matt in front of him or look outside the window, as if in deep thought. I couldn't understand the guy. What was so important that rendered him so socially incapacitated? Okay, maybe I was being unfair about it. But I had to do something to get me to notice him. So, as I was glancing towards his desk for the billionth time that class, I noticed how he was talking with Matt, who had taken the desk in front of him. An idea that seemed brilliant at the time popped to my mind.

When it was time for the next, short break, I stood up and swayed through the desks, shaking my ass more than usual. Alex and Matt were talking with each other, but they stopped when they saw me approaching; Alex fixed his eyes on me and leaned back on his chair, as if he was expecting me to give a show. And I was. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if he knew what I was up to. But I didn't care, even if he did; I smiled down at Matt and swirled around, bending over next to his desk and wrapping my arms around his. "Hey Matt," I said while offering a nice view of my round bottom to Alex. I'd bet everything I had he would be staring.

"Hey yourself, cuttie," Matt said, glancing at the open view of my breasts. I could tell he wanted me just by looking in his eyes.

"I was thinking... would you come to my ballet show?" I asked a bit shyly on purpose, though loud enough so Alex would hear me. "You know, just like last year. I wanted to show you a good time."

By good time, I meant Matt and I would make out and that he would get a good fondle on my body and maybe go down on me. He was excited at the prospect, of course - who wouldn't be?

"Hell yea," Matt shouted, "you looked so sexy in that ballet outfit."

"I know, sweetie." I couldn't stand him much longer. I thought I would talk to him for a while longer, but I needed to get out of there. Plus, I needed to know what Alex was doing. I glanced over to him. My mouth tightened stubbornly and my eyes brimmed with anger. The guy had his notebook between his seat and his desk, drawing or some shit. He did eventually notice me staring, so he raised his green eyes and looked at me above his glasses, as if I had just disturbed him from his meditation. I wanted to scream, "what's your problem?!", but his serene, almost stagnant expression gave me reason to halt. What the hell was this guy thinking, after he'd seen my ass in my tight yoga pants in all its glory?

I guess his inaction spoke louder than any words he might've spoken. I simply did not appeal to him.

***

I spent the entire Sunday evening in front of the mirror, preparing myself. I put extra make up on my pretty face and straightened out my long blonde hair; I wore my great golden ring-earrings and a diamond necklace an earlier conquest of mine had made a gift for me, and smiled sexily in front of the mirror, admiring my nude body with the jewels. The view would make any true man hard. My naked, full, round, heavy breasts with the hardened from the cool air nipples were crowned with the diamond necklace and paired with my smile, my earrings and blue eyes. Down below, my shaven pussy was peeking proudly from the chair. I had to capture that moment with my phone; I was a model of femininity.

Later, dressed in a short black dress that did nothing to hide the top of my breasts or the bottom of my thick thighs, fishnet stockings and silver high heeled stilettos, we sat in the VIP corner of the club, much to my surprise. Alex had yet to arrive, but Tray was going on about how he'd secured that spot for the lot of them. I thought, okay, and sat with Matt, Suzie and Tray and Marie who were making out even before we had even entered the club. Other people from the class had arrived, but I didn't feel like talking to anyone there; one guy, a friend of Matt's, came to our table and asked Suzie to dance. It must've been the best day of Suzie's life; she slurred a yes in response and went off eagerly. I arched my eyebrows, wondering what the hell the guy who asked her to dance was thinking, but I quickly understood.