As soon as you notice how quiet it is, you push back up off the table, and look around. Ms. Winkle is now smiling up at your from the desk, and the rest of the class, themselves mostly half-naked, are standing around you in a large semi-circle looking on.
“Go ahead, we heard her ask for it, give her the dick!” This came from someone in the crowd, but you were too distracted pulling your pants up to notice who.
Looking back to Francis, you can see that whatever spell had overtaken him, it was gone and he was looking down at you with a mixture of sheepishness and pride. You looked down at yourself. Glistening with sweat, butter and chocolate, you look hotter than anything you’ve ever seen before. You take a finger, wipe a little remaining chocolate from your muff and suck it proudly off your finger.
Is this how things are going to be now? This is insane.
The remaining five minutes of class are spent cleaning up. Ms. Winkle collected everyone’s butter and chocolate saturated shirts, and promised to get them laundered. In the meanwhile, she handed out “I baked chocolate chip cookies with Ms. Winkle” T-shirts which everyone wore out. You thanked yourself for having the foresight to set your button down well to the side, and you put it back on.
Time to head to lunch…
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