I’ve been strategizing lately to get Mr. Collins naked. So far, he’s rebuked my assets at every turn . . . I can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong! I know he’s not gay; the way he salivates at my flawlessly exposed skin makes that clear enough. Then there’s my mid-morning glee when I realize that his eyes are scanning me, starting at the bottoms of my stilettos. His green eyes travel to my delicate ankles, over seamlessly porcelain skin, and up to the hem of the micro-mini skirt adoring my slender thighs. Of course, I can’t necessarily claim that I’ve been an angel myself. Oh no. I’ve been raising my eyebrows suggestively, bending over my desk to expose my cleavage, and uncrossing my legs in a very unladylike manner–all within Mr. Collins’s direct line of vision. After all, I sit front-row-center in his class. Mr. Collins’s desk is right across from mine. While my friends and I are taking tests, I find all sorts of naughty ways to get his attention. Yeah, I’m pretty good at Algebra now, but that’s not what I want Mr. Collins to teach me….
~~HotTeenieHillary
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