A Special Teacher p1

Sophie shifted her body slightly, scarcely aware of what she was doing. Her attention was focused on the sight in front of her. She watched the bounce, now slow, now quick. She watched the dangle and the recovering. It was as though she was hypnotized, or perhaps had become some little animal mesmerized by the
predator before her. The soft, soothing voice that reached her ears seemed to be in a foreign language she couldn't understand but yearned to know. All in all, she was completely hooked.

The young college student had recently taken the advice of her advisor to go ahead and get some of the core courses out of the way that she had originally skipped in her haste to study the biology that so fascinated her.

She had decided to get her foreign language requirement finished first. she could already speak some French and thought it would make for an easy time, allowing her more time for her serious studies.

She had been right, and wrong. She had no difficulties with the course. Her basic grounding in the language allowed her to easily keep ahead of the class. It was the TEACHER who was giving her sleepless nights.

Not that she was alone in that, she was quite sure. From the very first day of class, every male student who had demonstrated the slightest interest in the female sex had fallen all over themselves whenever it was even hinted Professor Isabelle was near.

For not only was the instructor both sexy and gorgeous, she had the left leg in a purple cast up to her knee and was using crutches while teaching.

The twenty-something woman was well aware of her appeal and made no attempt to stop it. Indeed, she wore skirts that, although not terribly short, were cut to allow her to show off those legs to their best advantage.

The first day of class had demonstrated that Mademoiselle Isabelle, as she preferred to be called, was able to gain everyone's attention, and to also divert it to the subject when she wanted.

She faced the class with her leg with the broken ankle bent at the knee to keep her cast off the floor.

She sat behind her desk resting her ankle on a chair, or she stood behind her podium. However, when she turned and wrote on the
blackboard, a barely suppressed groan went through the entire class, particularly when she stretched to reach the top of the board.

The smile on her face as she returned to her desk was almost demure, but the little bit of devilish mirth at the corners of her mouth gave her away. Wile hopping around the class on her good leg when not using her crutches her breast would bounce around driving the class crazy.

Part 2 to come