Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Read Online Books/Novels: | My Dirty Professor | |
|---|---|---|
Author/Writer of Book/Novel: | Cassandra Dee | Kendall Blake |
| Language: | English | |
| Book Information: | ||
Evie needs some discipline and Mr. Phillips is just the man to teach her a lesson. When Mr. Phillips asked me to stay after class one day, I thought nothing of it. After all, he was my biology professor – smart, handsome, and with a great body to boot. But after everyone else left, things started getting interesting. Because Mr. Phillips drew all the shades … Locked the classroom door … Ordered me to kneel … And when he pulled out a big green cucumber, I gasped because the only thing I could say was, “Teacher, YES!” | ||
| Books by Author: | Cassandra Dee Books | Kendall Blake Books |
CHAPTER ONE
Evie
Clutching my books to my chest, I walk down the hallway self-consciously. My girls are so huge that sometimes I’m embarrassed if I don’t cover them somehow. So I often hug my books to me tightly, like a shield against … what, I’m not sure.
Because I’m a curvy brunette with a couple of extra pounds. Okay, you caught me -- it’s more than a couple of extra pounds. I’m generously proportioned, with big boobs; wide, swaying hips; and an ass that you could serve a meal on. I can’t help it. Just last year, I was normal -- skinny even -- but overnight, my new figure popped out, and I’m still not used to the Jessica Rabbit proportions.
Take last week, for example. I’d wandered down the hall past some meathead jocks. They were guys from the football team, and usually, it’s no big deal when I pass by them in the hallway. I’m used to being an invisible girl; probably half of the kids at my school wouldn’t be able to pick me out from a crowd. Except it was different this time. As I skulked by, chin down, the guys began nudging each other and whispering before one finally spoke.
“Nice rack,” Chip McCreighton had grunted. “Hubba hubba.”
I’d colored and picked up the pace so that I was practically speed walking before I rounded the corner and skidded to a stop. Once out of view of the jocks, I had taken a deep breath. The attention had felt so strange. I could still feel their male eyes on my ass, my back, my thighs, and my boobs. I’d thought it would feel demoralizing to be catcalled, but instead, it just felt … different. Like a tingly, shivery, and shaky kind of different. Sort of exciting, if I were to be honest about it. It was nice to have guys appreciate my assets, especially after years where I was nothing but a shadow. So I had flushed, bitten my lip, and floated down the hall with my head in the clouds, savoring the experience and storing the memory for long nights alone in my bed.
But even my new-found figure couldn’t get me a date for Homecoming. Oh no, I’m going stag because there’s no one waiting at the door with a corsage and a cheesy smile. I’ve resigned myself to getting ready with my friend Mindy as she waits for her boyfriend Homer to pick her up.
Homer is okay. He and Mindy have been “dating” since fifth grade. Homer is a gamer type. His latest fascination is Candy Crush Wild, which I think is a little juvenile for high school, but I guess Mindy doesn’t mind.
“Oh my god! I’m so excited! Homer said he’s going to get me a corsage!” Mindy babbles. “I told him purple since my dress is purple.”
I laugh a little because Mindy is so ridiculous. It isn’t just her dress that’s purple. She has purple eyeshadow, purple shoes, and a purple necklace, too. If you ask me, her attire might well earn her the nickname the Incredible Purple Walking Girl for the remainder of high school. But I bite down on my laugh and smile encouragingly.
“You look great,” I gush. “Homer’s going to love it.”
A little white lie has never killed anyone; besides, Mindy eats it up.
“I know. Look,” she giggles before pulling her dress up and flashing her undies – which, of course, are an eye-searing shade of violet.
“Oh my god,” I exclaim, stifling my laugh. “Those look really fancy. Where’d you get them?”
“Coeur de L’Amour,” she replies smugly, referring to a fancy French boutique in our neighborhood which sells all sorts of racy and lacy underthings. “I went there after school and picked up some stuff. Hope I’ll be able to use it tonight,” she murmurs wickedly.
Internally, I’m grossed out because Homer has a raging case of teen acne. It’s the kind that seeps fluid, and I wouldn’t be able to get up close and personal with the gangly boy myself, even if you paid me. But more power to Mindy if that’s what she wants. Different strokes for different folks, after all.
“I’m sure he’ll love it,” I say reassuringly. “What guy wouldn’t? You look amazing.”
“Really? Thanks, Eves. You’re a doll,” she adds, staring at herself in the mirror critically before deciding to apply another coat of blush. “What about you?” she asks, never taking her eyes off of her reflection. “What are your plans?” My best friend sucks in her cheeks so that she looks like a fish before carefully applying the additional make-up.
I blush. “Well, after you leave with Homer, I’m going to drive myself to the dance,” I mumble.
“What?” Mindy murmurs absentmindedly. Now she is reapplying lip gloss, in the color purple of course.
“I said I’m going to go by myself,” I say loudly this time. “It’s no big deal; I can handle it.”