Teaching Intent Ch. 02: Marge

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Marge’s phone received a text message. She placed a bookmark in her paperback book and then rolled over to read the message. She did a double take when she read the name, Mr. G.

Marge had gone to a math competition with him and a dozen other students a couple weeks ago. He had collected their cell phone numbers in case they got separated or there was an emergency. She didn’t understand why he would be texting her now and the message wasn’t much clearer, “Hey, you up?”

It was 10:30 PM. Marge was already brushed and in bed. “Yea, something wrong Mr. G?” she texted back.

“I miss being called Greg.” Marge wasn’t sure what to make of that text but a second later a second one came through. “No, sorry 2 bother you. Just up late n wanted someone 2 talk 2.”

“No it’s good. I was just lying in bed trying to catch up on my reading for English.”

“What u reading?”

“Most boys would have jumped on the bed part of that sentence instead of the reading.” Marge typed it without thinking, and immediately regretted it after sending.

“Well I am more mature then ur classmates.”

“Well you are older.”

“Ouch.”

“Sorry.”

“I’m jk. I’m aware of my age unfortunately. So what r u reading?”

“Animal Farm, you read it?”

“Years ago. Don’t think I’d be much help, but u knew that.”

She liked his text and sent him a laughing emoji.

“I’m surprised ur reading that now. I’d though the curriculum would be different.”

“Idk I guess they never update.”

“lol, yeah.” 3 dots appeared as if he had more to say, but then they disappeared. Marge tried to go back to her book, but she kept glancing back at her phone.

Five minutes later she finally received another text from him, “What u doin 4 Halloween?”

Halloween was Friday next week. “Just hanging with friends. You?”

“Just passin out candy. Joys of homeownership. It’s fun to see the kids in their costumes though. U dressing up?”

Marge sent him an angel emoji

“Will there be a devil at the party too?”

“lol, yea. Sandy.”

“U should wear ur costume to school so I can see it.”

“I can’t. The skirt they got me wearing is sooooo short.”

“Now I def wanna c it.”

“Sorry, you have to be there to see it.”

“I’m sure I’ll find it on Instagram.”

“My account is private.”

“Is Sandy’s?”

“That’s diabolical.”

“Not like when I was young. Nothin is hidden now.”

“So what’s your costume?”

“Wasnt planin on 1.”

She replied with a thumbs down emoji.

“I can be a pretty convincing Indiana Jones if I don’t shave the week of.”

“Do it. Send me a pic and I’ll return the favor.”

“Ur on.”

“OK, I should get back to reading.”

“Night.”

“Good night.”

* * * * *

The next day Marge arrived early to school and swung by his room. “Hey,” she exclaimed, but then she stumbled on the second word, unsure if she should call him Mr. G or Greg.

He was writing the day’s objectives on the front white board. He glanced her way and said, “Hi Marge, what’s up?” Then he went back to writing as he awaited her response.

“Oh nothing, just thought I’d swing by and say hi.”

“Yea sure.”

“So when’s our next competition?”

“Um, let me check. He walked over to his computer and pulled up the calendar. “Looks like the week before Thanksgiving.” He switched tabs and opened an email from the principal while he continued talking to her. “We’ll keep practices Thursday after school to get ready for that. You coming?”

“Yea, I am.”

“Great I’ll see you there,” he said as he started thumbing through papers in his backpack.

Marge started to bring up Halloween, but caught herself. He seemed very busy so she took a step back towards the door. He didn’t say anything so she turned and walked to the doorway. Once there she stopped and looked back, but he still wasn’t paying any attention to her.

* * * * *

“Busy day?” she texted him that evening.

“Not particularly. There’s the rush to get the show ready in the morning, but that’s the norm. How bout u?”

“My day was fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Yea, kind of felt ignored today.”

“Sorry 2 hear that. I’m here 2 talk now.”

Marge rolled her eyes. “It’s fine.” She saw the 3 dots appear. It seemed like he was writing a longer response, so she decided to change the topic and cut him off. “I’m tutoring one of your students,” she quickly fired off.

The 3 dots lasted 5 seconds longer and then they disappeared for a couple seconds. Then they reemerged briefly before “Oh yea, who?” came through.

“Naomi Berper.”

“I didn’t realize you 2 were friends.”

“Yea we’re a bit of an odd couple.”

“She is struggling. She doesn’t ask questions. You should convince her 2 come by my room for extra help.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Alright, I have to go write a lab report.”

“What’s ur major again?”

“I’m still undecided,” she replied with an emoji that looked like the screaming face painting. “Alright bye.”

“Bye.”

* * * * *

The next day at school illegal bahis she didn’t see him until the very end of the day. She was walking to her car when she spotted him outside on parking lot duty. She stopped to talk to him and ask about practice tomorrow.

“Yep, practice tomorrow,” he said. “I think this is going to be a really good year. We did better than last year at our first competition, but also just the size of the club. There are some years were I struggle to put together a team of four, but this year I think we have a full dozen that are committed to coming regularly.”

He kept breaking eye contact and glancing all around as he spoke to her: watching the cars drive out the parking lot, looking back at the building, so Marge ended the conversation. He waved good bye and shot her a smile.

* * * * *

“Naomi stopped by my room today after school…” he texted her that night.

“How’d it go?”

“Amazing. We raised her grade a lot today.”

“That’s a relief. She’s been stressing about math.”

“Yea I could tell.”

“I’ve been trying to help her but knowing math and teaching math are very different. Props to what you do.”

“Plus ur mostly doing it over the phone 2 which is hard.”

“No, we’ve been able to meet in-person.”

“We should try and schedule a joint session, u n me tutor her together.”

Marge sent him a thumbs up emoji.

“BTW, I dug my leather jacket out o the closet for Indy.” He sent her a picture of an old beat up leather jacket. It was on a hanger with just his hand in the frame.

Marge went over to her closet and dug out the silver skirt she was going to use for Halloween. At first she laid it out on the bed but the photo really didn’t capture how short it was, so Amy laid on the bed and then laid the skirt on top of her. She held her phone out over her waist and snapped a picture. She inspected it before sending it. You could see from her stomach to her knees, but no skin showed. Her torso was covered by a loose fitting dark blue T and her legs in a regular pair of khakis. That skirt though, she had lined the top with the top of her pants, but that skirt just barely covered her crotch. It was so freaking short. She sent the photo and awaited his response.

“Damn that is short,” he replied. “Ull look great in it.”

“Idk, I’m having second thoughts.”

“Its not showing less than the beach. Don’t worry bout it. Ull be the hottest 1 there.”

“Thanks,” she replied with a blushing emoji.

* * * * *

The following day Marge swung by his room after school for practice. He was sitting at his desk grading papers when she arrived. Of course two other students beat her there and that number soon grew to eleven other students. Once everyone was there he passed out a practice competition and went back to grading while they worked in pairs.

After 30 minutes he displayed the answers and asked if there were any questions. There were many. Brendan and him talked at length about the last problem. Seth had lots of questions on the early problems.

Marge tried to linger when they finished the review and half the students left, but four guys and two girls lingered just to chat with each other. Mr. G sometimes participated but mostly ignored them and graded. Then near 5PM he grabbed his bag and walked them all to the door. Marge said good bye to him and his response was a general shout to the whole group.

* * * * *

Marge thought about texting him that night, but decided against it. She didn’t want to seem clingy immediately after he ignored her in person. He didn’t text her either.

He wasn’t one of her teachers so avoiding him on Friday was easy, but then he texted her at 4:30 PM. “Im finally leaving work. Wish I was headin home to u.”

Marge didn’t immediately respond so five minutes later he texted again, “What u up 2 tonight?”

“Nothing, probably just watch a movie.”

“I thought ud be headin out to the club.”

“Me?” she texted back with a laughing emoji.

“Got plans tomm?”

“Not currently.”

“Wanna meet up? I no its last min but Id love to see that angel costume b4 some sweaty college boy talks u up at the party.”

“You and I have very different ideas of what this party will be like.”

“Either way I want u 2 have fun at the party. Just suggestin u could get 2 weekends of fun out of that costume.”

“Maybe.”

“If nothin else I can help u get used to wearing the costume b4 u wear it 4 a wider audience.”

“You’re persuasive.”

“U no me. I’ll cook if ull drive all the way out here.”

“You wearing your costume?”

“If u want me 2.”

“Eh, I’m not a fan of Indiana Jones. Wear a suit.”

“A suit? I’ll look like I’m at work.”

“You better look nicer than how you show up to work.”

“Done.”

* * * * *

The next day he was wearing a pinstripe suit with a dark yet sharp purple button up. He had the top two buttons undone with no undershirt. His shoes, not the beat up brown loafers he normally wore to work but the shiny black shoes he wore once to a friend’s wedding.

He jumped when illegal bahis siteleri the doorbell finally rang. He quickly checked his hair in the mirror before heading to the door to let her in.

He opened the door with a big wide smile on his face but that faded into an open mouth confusion when he saw Marge standing there in a pair of skinny jeans and a T-shirt. “Marge, hi” he said after a noticeable pause.

“Hi Mr. G, sorry, I mean Greg.”

“Here why won’t you come in.” He was slow to move out the way to actually let her in. He was leaning against the door frame with his arm outstretched and holding the edge of the door. After that moment of hesitation, he gave the door a shove so it would swing all the way open and she’d have room to walk in.

“You look really sharp in that suit,” she said as she walked past him.

“Thanks, but I feel a bit overdressed.”

“I know, I’m sorry but I couldn’t leave my house in that outfit without questions from my parents. In fact, I think I’ll change into it after I leave the house on Halloween too. Where’s your bathroom, and I’ll go change.”

“Um, down the hall on the right.”

He pulled out his phone as she walked away from him down that hallway. He typed out, “Did you invite anyone else?” but he didn’t send. His eyes looked to the top of the screen. There was an M in a gray circle and below that it said “Mage.” He went to his contact lists and scrolled to the M’s. The first name was “Mage” and the second was “Maggie.”

“Shit,” he said under his breath. “I misspelled her name and then I misread it,” he said in shock. Maggie was the college student he was kind of dating. It was an open relationship and to be honest they didn’t do much more than meet to fuck when she was home on break.

He reopened the messenger app and reread through their conversation in light of knowing the actual recipient. He was still standing in the same spot by the front door when she finally emerged from the bathroom 8 minutes later.

Looking up from his phone he saw her pale bare feet first. Scanning up her legs they were thin and pale. The shiny gray skirt she wore was very short. She had one arm hanging at her side and the hem of the skirt was near her wrist. Tucked into the skirt was a white strapless shirt. Her small budding breasts were wrapped tightly in this shirt. Her shoulders were darker than her legs, clearly seeing the sun more often. Her nose was larger and some what pointed, but also cute in it’s own way. She had curly brown hair that dropped just a tad beyond her shoulders. On her head was a head band with a small wire holding up a halo made out of what looked like white tinsel.

“Wow,” he said and then he stumbled forward as he tried to catch the phone that flipped out of his hand when his thumb released its grip. She giggled. He caught it. “Skills!” he announced.

He smiled and looked her in the eye. She smiled back and blushed, looking down. His eyes took the break in eye contact as an opportunity to quickly look her up and down again. “So what’s for dinner?” she asked to break the silence.

“Ziti with homemade meatballs.”

“Oh. I have to warn you I am Italian, so I have high expectations.”

“I think you’ll be impressed with my meatballs,” he said as he led her to the kitchen. He took off his sports coat and rolled up the sleeves on his purple button down. She took a seat at the counter while he gathered his cooking materials.

“Do you make your own sauce?”

“No, sorry.”

“Oh, that’s a mark against you,” she teased.

“I’ll cook the meatballs in the sauce though, so it’ll have some extra flavoring.”

“We’ll see.”

They talked shop for a bit, about the next math competition and how ready he felt the team was. She gossiped about what she thought of the other teachers in the building. During that conversation he slipped in verification that she was a senior and in fact already turned 18.

Once he had the meatballs boiling in the sauce he pulled out his camera. It was an expensive looking digital camera. He turned on the camera and she smiled for a picture. He took the shot centered on her face. “You look so good. Would you be willing to do a photo shoot while the meatballs cook? I’m almost good enough to not call myself an amateur.”

She smiled and agreed, so he led her outside to his deck. He went out in his dress socks, her barefoot. It was nice day. “Stand over by the railing,” he instructed. She went over there and smiled for a full body pic.

“Turn around so I can see you wings.” Her wings were silver, foam wrapped in fabric held onto her back with two Velcro straps.. “Look back at me over your shoulder so I can see your face.” She complied. “Beautiful,” he complimented as he took another shot.

“Can you stand up on your tip-e-toes.” She complied and it made her ass look great as her skirt hung off it. He snapped another shot. He got down on one knee to stabilize the camera and at this angle he could almost see up her tiny skirt. The photo post felt more forced with her standing on her toes barefooted instead of in heels so he angled up so that canlı bahis siteleri the bottom of the picture frame was at her angles. That was the shot he admired on the camera’s small screen as she stumbled forward coming off her toes.

“I’d like to get an angelic shot considering your costume.”

“What do you mean?”

“You willing to climb up on the railing? I want the shot to look like you’re flying.” The top of the railing was a flat 6-inch wide piece of wood. He moved a deck chair to the corner and held her hand as she stepped onto it and then onto the balcony. She stood in the corner and looked down at him as he snapped a photo. In the photo you could just see from her torso up with the deep blue sky behind her.

“Don’t look at me. Look out to the horizon.” He took another picture from that angle and it came out better. The he got down on his knee right below her and angled the camera up at her. “Your legs look so long from this angle, their gorgeous. Her feet and the railing were outside the frame of the shot but starting at her calf his eyes just followed them until they disappeared into darkness under her skirt. It was bright out so the glimpses under her skirt just looked like a black void in the photo.

“Ok I’m going to adjust your position a bit, but don’t fall.”

“Oh, thanks for the advice.”

She was standing with her feet together on the corner of the deck. “Spread your feet apart so you have one foot on the beam going towards the house and the other on this other beam parallel to the house. She did, slowly moving one foot at a time. She was a little wobbly but at no point did it look like she’d fall.

While she adjusted, he looked down at his camera and turned on the flash. Sticking the camera between her legs he got an upskirt shot. “Did you just…”

“It’s important for the portfolio,” he said as he turned the flash back to auto.

He stood up on the chair so he could once again hold her hand. “OK so I need you to turn sideways so I can get a shot that looks like you’re flying.” She moved her feet back to the corner and turned so she was looking down the railing parallel to the house. “Now lock your elbows, lean forward and put your arms out like Superman. Don’t look at me, look straight ahead. Now lift your front leg, the one closer to me, back and as high as you can while keeping your knee mostly straight. I’ll photoshop out your back leg later.”

Then he climbed down from the chair and adjusted his distance and angle until he could see her full body in the frame and so that there was blue sky above and below her. The leg holding her up disappeared out of the frame at her knee. “Perfect,” he said when took the picture. “I think that’s going to be my favorite one.”

“I thought your favorite picture would be two shots ago,” she said as she wobbled a bit. “Can I get down now?”

“Yes, yes. I want to get a couple more with the sun in the background, see if I can get it to look like an angelic glow.” When she was back on the deck, he kneeled beside her and took one shot looking up with the sun directly behind her head as she was looing down at the camera. Then another with her looking out and the sun centered in her halo.

He moved the chair to the middle of the deck and had her sit down. She sat on the very edge of the chair so as to not crush her wings. He had her cross her legs and prop up the bottom leg as much as possible so that just her big toe was on the deck. He had her swivel so her legs were almost sideways leaving the chair with her upper leg pressing against the underside of the end of the chair arm rest. He stood so that her face was in a perfect profile and then he had her twist her torso to face towards him but no so much so that her wings were hidden from view. She turned her head all the way to face him and smile. “You look like a professional model,” he said as he took the next shot.

“OK uncross your legs.” She complied and moved them so her knees were beside each other. “OK and now spread your legs.” She had followed all of his other directions without hesitation. This one did have a moment of hesitation, but she had gotten used to taking directions on where to position her body from him. She complied so that there was an 8 inch gap between her knees.

“As wide as you can push them,” he said as he stepped towards her so that he was standing between her knees. Her face was in his chest, staring at his purple shirt. She felt him mess with her hair for a moment and then he stepped back holding her halo. It was just a ring of white tinsel attached with a thin metal wire to a head band.

He knelt down in front of her and bent forward so that his head was directly between her knees. “Scooch back just an inch,” he instructed. He placed the halo between her legs so that all you could see through the center was her white panties and a bit of skin. The headband hung between her legs off the chair. He wanted it out of frame; the thin wire leading to it wouldn’t be noticeable. That is not what people are going to look at when they see this photo. But the head band kept dragging the whole thing down and making it fall before he could lift the camera and take the shot. He adjusted it for a long time before he realized he would half to hold the headband out of frame with his left while he took the picture with just one hand on the camera.

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