Part 3 Country Western FUN in Vegas Friday mor
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1984Chapter 8 free porn video
"Okay. Is everyone ready?" I said to my last Family Life class of the day. It was a warm July morning.
"Yes," most of the students said.
"What about my sperm?" I called out.
"Yes!" the boys responded.
"And my fertilizing sperm?"
"I'm ready," Joey said.
"What about my hardened skin around the egg?"
"Yes," all the girls but one replied.
"And my egg?"
"You're a guy. You don't have eggs," Angela joked. She played the egg that would be fertilized.
The couple of weeks Angela was in my class I discovered she liked to crack sexual jokes. I admit she even got me laughing a few times. She had a knack for unexpectedly turning topics and words into a double entendre. She had a keener mind than I expected in a comedic way, but it also made her a frequent disruption. I hated to say it, but I sort of liked the girl and had to remind myself that she was a frequent terror to Chris. I needed to keep her in perspective. She was the enemy.
"I'm not asking if you're ready to be penetrated," I dared tease back at a student. "Everyone knows that." The "oooohs" from other students gave me a smug satisfaction. I'm sure you're always ready for sperm. The boys were telling me that today, but I thought it was right to ask if you're ready anyway."
For a moment I thought she blushed from embarrassment but then thought it was pride. It didn't really matter.
"Let's begin," I said.
"Don't you mean finish?" Angela said. "The guy just finished."
I ignored her and said, "Okay, sperm. Move forward. You have made it through the cervix and are in the womb."
The boys moved in an aimless fashion as instructed.
"Wiggle those butts!" I said. "You're sperm. It's how you move and what girl can resist a cute butt?"
Some boys cooperated. Some girls shouted encouragement.
"Okay, Joey. Go fertilize the egg."
He headed straight for Angela. When he reached her, they hugged tightly.
"Go girls!" I said. "You're the hardened skin of the egg. You prevent the other sperm from penetrating."
The girls formed a shield with interlocked arms around Angela and Joey. The boys bounced against the girls.
"Easy," I said to the boys. Boys could be such butt heads.
I continued, "The fertilized egg begins to multiply." I pointed at a boy and a girl and said, "Group hug!" They put their arms around Angela and Joey. "This happens rapidly."
In boy / girl pairs I had them simulate a growing egg until all the students where pressed together.
"You still breathing in the middle?" I called out.
"Yes!" said Angela.
I chuckled. She probably loved it.
"Back to your seats everyone."
Of course, it took longer than it should have.
"So what did we learn?" I asked.
I received the proper answers, occasionally phrased oddly.
Someone cracked, "Joey got to fertilize Angela!"
After the laughter died down I said, 'We've already established the fact that her primary goal in high school is to be inseminated by every boy."
"Slam!" a boy said.
It felt good. I did it for Chris. Angela didn't hide that she liked boys and perhaps could be considered easy. I didn't mind tearing her down in front of her classmates so that she looked like a complete slut. I enjoyed it, but I felt guilty too because like I said, she was likeable. She was likeable but she had a mean streak.
"Just joking," I said to protect my job in case the put down was taken seriously.
I moved on to discussing the development of the baby in each trimester. Every topic had to be covered at a faster rate during the summer session.
When the ending bell rang I said, "Tomorrow we'll act out birth. The girls will be in one corner screaming while the boys will be in the other corner watching sports on TV."
I ended class with a quip almost every day, but I still received a few looks from students who thought I might be serious.
I was never in a hurry to push the students out of the classroom since it was only noon. I took my time getting my stuff together even if it wasn't much and let the kids socialize before they left.
"Mr. Coleman?" Angela said.
I looked up from my desk. She was the only one left.
"I'm sorry for teasing you so hard," I instantly said, thinking that was the reason she was still here. I had to watch my mouth or one day I'd get fired. I liked my job and life. I didn't want a second John Coleman life.
"It's okay. You're really funny."
"Thanks," I said smiling. "What can I do for you?"
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Shoot."
"It's about boys."
I shrugged and said, "That's what this class is about."
"Why don't boys like me?" she asked.
I smiled thinking it was a joke, but she seemed serious so I dropped the expression.
"Why do you think that?" I replied.
"I'm never asked out or anything."
I struggled to believe that was true. I thought I'd seen her flirting with different boys. Was I mistaken? Had I completely misread Angela?
"Really?" I said but immediately knew it was the wrong response. "Oh ... you'll find the right guy. You're young. All you have to do is be yourself. You're pretty so some guys are intimidated by you and think you're already dating other guys."
"I guess. Is there something I could do?"
"Just be the best Angela you can be."
"Would it be okay if I asked boys out?"
"Sure!" I said. "The year is two thousand and ... it's the eighties. Girls can ask boys out." I thought a second. "It might be the best way for you to get dates since you're more aggressive and some guys are scared of that."
"I'm aggressive?"
"Confident in yourself ... in what you want. Aggressive is too strong a word."
"What kind of girl do you like?"
"Me?"
"A confident girl or a mousy girl?"
I was curious about her choice of "mousy".
"A relationship should be balanced," I answered. "Sometimes the boy leads and sometimes the girl leads."
It was more a textbook example than my real life. My relationship with Amy was mostly balanced, but Caroline Barlow was an aggressor. Debbie came on to me but we were fairly balanced now.
Angela continued to ask questions, sometimes repeating what she said in various ways.
Something about my conversation with Angela didn't ring true, but I couldn't put my finger on it.
"We should get out of here," I finally said. The custodial staff would be here any moment. I didn't want to keep them from doing their job and delaying when they could get home.
I gathered my stuff and walked outside with her. It was raining. It was a sudden summer storm.
"Oh, man!" she bemoaned.
Somewhere deep in my conscious Sting likely was singing, "Don't Stand So Close To Me", but it wasn't strong enough to hear. All I could think about was how it was wrong to let her get all wet walking home.
"Do you want a ride?" I asked.
"Sure!" she said excitedly.
"Nice car!" she said when she got in.
"Thanks," I said perfunctorily. I don't think I could ever get over the fact I owned a Datsun. I'd buy another car if I wasn't still making payments on this one.
I drove off.
"You like The Police?" she asked as my stereo played 'Wrapped Around Your Finger'.
"I sure do," I said. "This is their best album."
"Until their next one!" she said.
"Yeah," I said. I was better at not revealing glimpses of what I knew about the future. The solo projects the band members were doing would eventually mean they wouldn't get back together for 25 years.
"You're cool for a teacher," she said.
"You mean for an old guy?"
"You're not that old. How old are you?"
"Forty."
"That's not that old."
"That's very kind of you. Can I ask you a question, Angela?"
"Okay."
"Why do you tease Chris Walker?"
"What do you mean?" The tone of her voice told me she knew what I meant.
"You are always giving him a hard time about not having any experience with girls."
"It's fun," she said with a shrug.
"It's mean. Chris is a nice guy. You should leave him alone."
"Alright." I could tell she just wanted to get off the topic.
"I'm trying to help Chris be more confident," I explained.
"That's nice of you." I could also tell she didn't care.
I pulled into my apartment. When Angela got out, I realized I hadn't dropped her off at home. Of course, she never said where she lived.
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