I was no longer stupefied, I was now flabbergasted. How could Clay—a twenty year old—possibly teen anal movie remain so calm and obviously in control of himself in the face of a stressful situation, such as we… or rather, I now found myself embarrassingly embroiled in?
Just then, the doorbell rang. “Saved by the bell!” Chantel yelped and raced for the door.
“Not yet, you’re not!” I snapped at her back and turned my wrath on her co-conspirator. “Darnell, if you let her pay for the pizzas, you might as well pick up your bag and march your ungentlemanly black ass right on out of here.”
“Author! Author!” Clay rose to his feet and teen anal movie applauded. “Well spoken, Mrs. Chapel; you cut him off right at the knees and you did it with both class and style. I say, Bravo!” He teen anal movie sat back down and resumed reading. “D’bone, go pay the man.”
I was beginning to see some very definite possibilities developing between Clay and I, and they didn’t have a damn thing to do with scholastic achievement. I was willing to wait and see what might develop, at least until I found out what was really going on here. Then, we’d all see… all four of us.
We actually did discuss Macbeth while the four of us gobbled down piping hot wedges of pizza. Darnell and Clay each had a cold beer; Chantel and I
teen anal movie had frosted mugs of Pepsi. “If I had been Macbeth, and had a mother like he did,” Clay commented, “I would have hot-footed it out of that cave and run like hell.”
“But he didn’t,” I pointed out. “And where would be the tragedy if he had? If he had sensibly cut and run, the play would have ended right then and there.”
“Good point, Mrs. Chapel.” A look I had seen
teen anal movie all too often in class came to Clay’s eyes; irreverent mischievousness might a
teen anal movie good way to describe it. “And just think of the drama the world would have missed out on. There would be no “To be
teen anal movie, or not to be”, no skull held aloft in Macbeth’s hand, no ‘Alas, poor Iago! I knew him’.”
“That’s entirely from Hamlet, young man,” I snootily corrected. “And the skull was Yorick’s,” At least Clay hadn’t misquoted by saying, “I knew him
teen anal movie well.” That always infuriates me. “Iago was Othello’s nemesis.”
“Just making sure
teen anal movie you were paying attention, Mrs. Chapel,” Clay replied with an indecipherable wink. “To the discussion at hand, naturally.”
I can quote any work of Shakespeare’s you care to pull off the shelf from memory, so—in all honesty—I hadn’t been paying complete attention. My eyes had kept straying in Clay’s direction, taking in the way his tight polo shirt seemed like a second skin on his upper torso, leaning back as if stretching in the hopes of possibly catching a glimpse at his lap to see whether or not there was a telltale bulge in his slacks. I hadn’t detected any noticeable bulge, but the evening was still young.
“Any other thoughts about Macbeth?” Clay asked.
“I’m with you,” Darnell responded. “I’d ‘ve cut and run.”
“And I side with Mrs. Chapel,” Chantel asserted.
“An even-Steven split.” Clay nodded with satisfaction. “Since no one likes losing, I hereby declare this debate to be a successful draw. Viewpoints were exchanged; no one lost, yet no one won.” He looked over at me. “However, you are the teacher, and this is your home, so, by all rights, you should have the final say-so
teen anal movie on that, Mrs. Chapel.”
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