This is just for fun. We all wish we owned Edward and the gang; sadly, they belong to SM and we just borrow them to go to Smutiversity with.

Thanks to vasweetpea for your beta services, and a huge thank you to TaraSueMe, HunterHunting and tby789 for allowing us to mention them in this weird little fic.

Read it. Out loud. By SwedenSara

Here's the thing, I need to learn how to write smut. I suck at smut. My smut is rated PG-13 , that's how sucky I am. So, yeah, I need to learn some stuff, and that's why I enrolled to the course "Sex in fiction: how to write, and what to avoid". Thankfully, I was accepted, and now I go to university again. No, wait, I don't. I go to Smutiversity. Hah!

For our first class we are told to bring an excerpt of our own writing, the smutty parts. I'm kind of embarrassed about that, because as I said, my smut is so not smutty that you can probably read it with your kids around. After a few read-throughs, I decide on a part from chapter 11 of my story, the smuttiest part I can think of. And that part doesn't even contain actual sexual intercourse; it's basically just Edward watching porn and playing the skinflute in the middle of the night. Writing that was like giving birth to a lizard; it wasn't entirely pleasurable doing it, and I can't even bring myself to love the damn thing afterwards. I may feel some affection towards it because at least it is mine, but I don't think it's that great, and to be honest, my "smut-baby" is kind of ugly.

To say I'm nervous as I head to the first class is an understatement. I don't have butterflies in my belly, I have freaking dragonflies on acid in there. I peek inside the door and see a room full of ladies, of a wide variety of ages. Some of them look too young to even know what smut is, and some too old to even care. There is an empty seat between two ladies, a young girl around twenty years old, and a slightly older one - probably twice her age, which leaves me between them age-wise as well. Both have a file of printed papers in front of them, and I realize it's probably their stories. That's also when I realize my own mistake – I forgot the damned smut-excerpt, I left it at home in my haste and nervousness. Fuck it. Well, at least I don't have to embarrass myself by reading my ugly smut lizard out loud.

As I sit down I listen to women talking around me, I notice the subject of most of the conversations is the teacher on this course. Apparently the Smut Teacher is a he, and he is hot, judging by the ooohs and aaaahs from those who have seen his picture on the website. That would explain the predominance of women in this room. I didn't even bother to check who was lecturing on this course. To be honest, I assumed it would be a woman, since most fan fiction writers I know about are female. I guess I was wrong.

"Hi, I'm Jill. Have you heard about this teacher everyone seems to be talking about?"

The lady on my left leans in close to me. She has a huge pile of books and papers on her desk, the one on top being Pride and Prejudice. A Jane Austen fan, it seems. I probably shouldn't tell her that I've read nothing by Austen. Some people consider that an actual crime and I'm not sure about this lady's opinion on that yet. I've seen the movies, though, but I'm not sure that counts.

Jane Austen-lady looks like she is in her forties, with brown hair, a pretty face and a winning smile. She appears to be slightly taller than me, and has a curvy figure. Her eyes are unusual: one brown and one blue, which is awesomely cool. I have no special features like that – I used to have teeth like a vampire, but now I have braces. I don't think braces on a 30-year old woman qualify as cool, though, especially not since they are accompanied by a pair of glasses. Imagine that, glasses and braces, the nightmare of every teenager. Thank god I'm a grown-up, and don't have to worry about my looks all the time. As in "not all the time, but certainly sometimes", like when the teacher you imagined would be a middle-aged woman turns out to be a fairly young and hot male.

I turn to the lady, Jill, and answer.

"Nope, but I'm intrigued, to say the least. He seems to be quite popular. I'm Sara by the way."

"He's more than popular. Just wait and see, ladies. You're in for a treat."

The tall, dark-haired girl on my right chimes in, taking out the earphones of her iPod, and the music she was listening to is blaring through them. I recognize the sound of The Strokes. The black eyeliner around her dark blue eyes and the pack of cigarettes on her desk seems to fit in well with that kind of music. When she speaks I notice she has an Australian accent, which means I'm not the only non-American here. Oh, come to think of it, Jill sounded English. We are quite international, it seems.

"You know him? Um, sorry, I didn't catch your name?" She says.

I listen closely as my two new classmates introduce themselves. I generally suck at names, but I have a feeling these two have names worth remembering.

"I'm Netra," said the younger woman, "writer of angst, angst and more angst. I need a break. I want my writing to get more down and dirty."

She looks down and fiddles with her pack of cigarettes. It seems like she is in terrible need of a smoke, and she looks a bit tired, like she's been out partying the entire night. If that's the case, I'm actually jealous. I bet her smut-writing is good as fuck as well, pun totally intended. I shake off the feeling of having an extremely boring life, and turn to her.

"Well, I'm the only writer I know whose smut is practically smut-free. Apart from Stephanie Meyer, of course." I feel kind of embarrassed admitting it.

Jill smiles at me, and pats me on the hand with sympathy.

"Well, it could be worse. I've been doing beta work, and if I have to read about another dripping core, I think I might go mad! I need inspiration."

I like these girl already, I think we're going to have fun. Our conversations go from dripping cores to the various smuts out there, and we discover we share a lot of common favourites. The buzzing voices in the room make us talk louder to be able to hear each other. The topic changes, to things you've learned from reading smut, and I laugh loudly as I say:

"Well, if it weren't for smutty fan fiction I would never know the benefits of being properly tied up. Thank you for that education, TaraSueMe!"

In the middle of my sentence I notice that it is suddenly very quiet, and that the only voice being heard is – that's right – mine. As I turn around I realize the reason for the silence. The Smut Teacher just came. Correction: the Fuck-Hot Smut Teacher just arrived. I would love to be able to say that he came, but sadly I can't. The chances of me seeing him coming in that sense of the word are slim to none, and even that is an understatement. I'd say the chances are exactly none. Slim to none would mean that there actually is a chance, and thinking that is just ridiculous.

Fuck-Hot Smut Teacher is eyeing me, with his brow raised and a smirk on his lips, and I feel the burning blush spread over my face. My blush is not the cute kind with rosy cheeks. It is more like red blotches scattered over my face and neck. If I was naked you would see those blotches extending all the way down my chest as well. Thank god I didn't choose a top with a cleavage today, because showing off that flaming red bosom would have been too much humiliation in one day even for me.

"I'm sorry" I croak. "I didn't see you coming."

"Well, I did come, and if you are done discussing the pros and cons of being tied up during sex, I'd like to begin this class."

Holy shit, does he have to talk about coming? I can't concentrate when the only thing in my mind is his cum-face. I need to refocus on the issue here. I'm here to write smut. I wonder what he looks like… I bet he's glorious. Oh no, I didn't just think that. Wow, I really know how to make things worse than they already are. What is wrong with me!

Sexy Smut Teacher is talking to the class, explaining the curriculum, and answering questions. I don't hear one word of it, because I'm eye-fucking him from my seat in the back. He has this really sexy dishevelled hair going, like he just got out of bed, or better, like he was just being screwed on a bed. He is tall and lean, which I really enjoy because I don't like buff guys. The focus on getting that great body makes well-built men seem so self-absorbed. His eyes are blue with a hint of grey in them, his brows are marked but nicely formed, and his jaw – oh god, his jaw – has the most perfect angle hiding under a light stubble. In fact, he bears a striking resemblance to a certain young British actor, known from a movie franchise involving vampires. I shift in my chair, starting to feel a tiny bit uncomfortable with the growing throbbing in my crotch.

I lean towards Netra, because I've been so preoccupied with undressing Smut Teacher that I didn't even catch his name.

"Hey Netra, what's his name? I kind of lost focus for a while."

"You don't say? I think maybe you lost more than focus, like your chin maybe, or some brain cells?" She snickers at me.

"Oh, shut up. Did you already know he'd be this gorgeous?"

"Actually, a friend of mine took this course last year. Her smut improved, I guess she got inspired…"

I giggle. I can totally see how he could be an inspiration to smut writing. He's inspiring me right now, as a matter of fact… Oh fuck, not again. Back to subject.

"So, his name? Tell me!"

"Alright. This is actually hilarious, considering the type of fic we write. His name is…" She quiets, making a theatrical pause.

"Edward. Professor Edward Hawkins."

No shit! Fuck-Hot Smut Teacher is called Edward. This is just too good to be true. I raise my eyes to witness his holy hotness as he speaks again.

"Now, I gave you all instructions to bring an excerpt of your writing for our first class. This will be a good way for us to get to know each other, and it will also be the subject for our first seminar. I'd like to hear some of you read your excerpts, in order to give you a hint on what I'd like you all to discuss later. Let me see… Is anybody with the penname "SwedenSara" here?"

I freeze in my seat, unable to utter a word. He is going to make me read my ugly smut, out loud. Oh wait, he can't. I didn't bring my smut. He is going to find out that I forgot. This is a great way to introduce myself to Fuck-Hot Smut Teacher Edward. Not.

"She is not here? No SwedenSara?"

"She is right here!" Jill smiles and points at me. Gee, thanks, hon!

"Oh. It's you. Well, I know for a fact that you are able to speak, because I clearly heard you when I entered this room. So, can you please use that voice and read your excerpt?"

"Um… Actually, I don't have an excerpt. I mean I had one, but I kind of forgot it at home, and besides, it isn't smutty anyway. I don't know how to write smut, I mean, that's what I'm supposed to learn here, right? So, I can't read an excerpt. Sorry." Holy shit, is there a possibility that this rambling didn't just fall out of my mouth right now? Nope, the malicious faces in this room combined with Edwards raised eye brow pretty much proves that it did.

"Okay then, I'll have to talk to you about this after class. Is there anybody here who remembered to bring their story?"

The entire room is filled with raised hands, and I can't help but scoff at these ladies trying to impress Professor McSmutty. I snort in a very unladylike way at my newfound nickname for Fuck-Hot Smut Teacher, and of course he notices. The smirk on his face is not subtle at all.

Netra raises her hand, and is the next one to read her story. She introduces it briefly, it's a story called White Lies, in which a young and naive Bella meets somewhat older and secretly married Edward. She walks to the front of the class, and starts to read aloud.

"With another glance into my eyes, and an evil little smirk on her face, Bella pulled down my boxers, my cock less than two inches from her face. I could actually feel her breath on me, and I was about to start begging when she slowly opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around the head of my dick. I nearly fainted on the spot, the sight was absolutely fucking magnificent.

A low "fuck" escaped me as I watched her take my length in her mouth, and she wrapped her hand around the part that she couldn't fit. She had told me in the past that she didn't really like giving blow jobs, because she didn't really know what she was doing, but she was obviously a complete and utter fucking natural, because this was amazing. She broke eye contact as she slid her mouth back up, her hand following closely behind, and then back down. She set such a slow pace, that although I could feel it gradually increasing, it was completely agonising in the most delicious way.

I was grunting and groaning like a wild fucking animal, unable to contain myself against the feelings that she was giving me. One of my hands tangled into the hair at the back of my head, pulling and tugging on it as a means of keeping my head in the game, and the other rested at my side. I felt one of Bella's fingers brush it and so took her hand in mine, knotting our fingers together and hoping that I didn't squeeze it too hard or anything stupid like that because I wasn't capable of thought.

Her speed started increasing more noticeably now, and my hand tightened in my hair to an almost painful extent, which I barely noticed. At that point, I think Rosalie could have walked straight into the room and I wouldn't have even realized, I was that transfixed. I directed my gaze back to Bella, who was focused on her task, her eyes not on me. However, I could still see her mouth moving up and down, and I realized in that moment whoever said that men were visual creatures was completely accurate, because it was quite possibly the hottest thing I had ever seen, and was driving me absolutely mental.

"Princess, fuck… I'm gonna - fuck," was all that I was able to enunciate, so I forced myself to get my head together and tell her that I was going to come, because I was nowhere near enough of a douche bag to just spring that shit on someone, especially not Bella. As if she could read my mind, or understand my nonsensical ramblings, she moved even faster, her mouth tightening infinitesimally more and making my eyes roll back into my head.
A deep, almost sinister groan left my mouth as I felt the stirring in my stomach that preceded what I knew was going to be a huge orgasm. As if she knew, her hand moved to rest on the exact spot where the feeling was originating, the warmth of her little hand exacerbating the spreading of it through my body.

"Bella," I tried again, my voice a throaty rumble, "fuck princess, I'm gonna come, you have to-"

Although I couldn't finish the sentence, it was pretty damn obvious what I meant, and yet, she didn't move, she tightened her mouth even more and I felt her teeth graze my cock, sending me over the edge. With a ragged moan, I released into her mouth, only to feel her throat muscles move as she swallowed it down without a second's hesitation. She bobbed up and down a couple more times, letting me ride it out, and then sat back up, a cheeky grin on her face."

Holy shit, that was good. I find myself a bit hot and bothered by Netras reading, which is certainly not what I'm used to in a classroom. A few other women read their stories, although no one has the guts to stand in front of the class like she did. Some of the excerpts read aloud are insanely good. On the other hand, some are not that great, and I thank my lucky stars that I actually forgot mine. I would have died if I had to read it in front of him. Oh, the embarrassment…

After listening to the stories we get a small group assignment to be finished in half an hour. I quickly team up with Jill and Netra, and since we're not forced to stay in the classroom we head out in the sun. We slump down on the grass and form a tight circle, bowing our heads together. The task is word usage and different euphemisms for things that have to do with sex, and I make notes as we come up with various terms.

"Okay girls, you have to help me out here. I'm Swedish, I don't know any good words in English. If my English teacher in school would have taught us this kind if vocabulary he'd probably be fired."

"Right, we have, of course, the usual ones. Breast, penis, cock, dick, pussy, cunt, beaver, tits, ass, boobs, clit... what else? Shaft, we have to add that one, too."

"Sex, erection and arousal, inviting entrance, lady parts... moist slit... and quivering member, do you remember that one? It's from a movie, "Ten Things I hate about You." You know, with Heath Ledger?"

"Love Heath Ledger... so sad that he passed away! Oh, we have to use dripping cores and throbbing manhood."

"Don't forget molten mound. I've read that once, and I instantly thought of volcanoes, not sex. Oh, add erupted like a volcano, too"

"When we're at the seismic roll, we also have the lava hole."

"The what? I don't even know what that's supposed to be!"

"Here are some fun food related ones: incognito burrito, bearded taco, apple sacs, smut sausage, sausage meat."

"I love this one: one-eyed snake. It's hilarious!"

"Oh, I get to read all sorts... things like rampant rod and rock-hard shaft. I think one of the most memorable - for all the wrong reasons - was someone who talked about a guys' pulsating magnificence. I nearly gagged when I read that. Eww! And was it Oprah who talked about a vajayjay? How ridiculous is that?"

"Actually, vajayjay sounds kind of funny to me...It's like hooo-ha, I like that one too. But not in a lemon, I might add. I always giggle when a guy called Mike, calls his dick Little Mikey..."

"Or worse still, Big Mikey... or Monster Mikey. The pulsating magnificence is just... horrific."

We all collapse in fits of the giggles. The more we chatter, the more ridiculous some of these words sound.


"Or schlong..."

"Nooo... please, for the love of all that's holy, not schlong. Who makes these words up?"



"Willy! Little boys in the UK often call it their willy... or their tadger. Big boys, too."

"Oh. In Sweden, Willy's the name of a very low class supermarket. You know, the kind with really cheap groceries."

I splutter and choke as I giggle. I can't decide whether it is because I am amused or embarrassed. To have a store named as a penis, that is hilarious. I will never be able to shop there again without laughing.

As we head back to class, Netra taps Professor McSmutty on his shoulder. She says a few words, and he nods thoughtfully before motioning her to move on. He lifts his eyes and searches the classroom, before settling on me. Holy crap. I turn red again, and instantly wish I had long thick hair to hide behind. I don't, I have a short page, because when my hair is long my face gets really elongated and I end up looking like a horse.

After listening to our words and compiling a long list on the board, Edward introduces our assignment for next time. We are supposed to write a masturbation scene, preferably no more than 300 words. The rules are that we need to write in first person, and we need to use a character of our own sex. Jill wants to write a piece about Jasper, but isn't allowed. Apparently it has to do with drawing from your own experience and making it seem more real. It makes sense. This means I can't use the one I picked out for this class, since it is about a man. I need to write a new one. I sigh.

This has been a couple of really productive hours. I look at my notebook, colourful euphemisms for the human reproductive organs are scrabbled all over the pages. I so need to hide this from my mom next time she visits. I don't know if she'd find it hilarious or just plain weird, but I definitely don't want to explain the reason for all these words in my notebook. Smut class probably isn't the kind education she wished for me when I was a kid, and it sure isn't something to brag about at the annual family get-together.

When class is over I hurry to stash all my things into my backpack, eager to get out of there. The fact that Edward told me to stay after class hasn't slipped my mind, but I vigorously hope that he's forgotten it. I'm in terrible need of a cup of coffee, and Jill and Netra suggest a trip to Starbucks, to increase the caffeine level in our blood and discuss the smut excerpts we just heard in class. Other people might trashtalk them, but we don't trashtalk others. We discuss, because we're nice like that.

"Well, Miss SwedenSara, it seems like you have forgotten our little appointment already."

O god, I love how he says that, Miss SwedenSara… If you take away my actual name it would only be Miss Sweden left, and that's the closest I'll ever get to being a beauty queen. I exchange cell numbers with the girls and tell them to leave me behind. I'll catch up with them later. I take a deep breath and follow my insanely sexy teacher to his office.

He motions for me to sit down, and leans against the desk with his arms crossed. I gingerly take place in the chair, and take a look around. His walls are covered with art - erotic art, I might add. He is silently watching me as my eyes wander over the walls, and of course I blush again, like I've never seen a naked peen before.

"So, what was the reason you didn't bring your excerpt to class today?" He asks in a low voice. I can't quite grasp if it's an attempt to being nice, or if I should be intimidated by it. Considering he was sort of sour about this in class, it is probably the latter. I clear my throat, and use my most girly and innocent voice.

"Well, I had one picked out at home, but I forgot it. I'm a bit embarrassed by it though, because compared to some of the things we heard today, it's not very smutty at all!"

He scratches his nose and looks at me, for what seems to be forever. I shift uncomfortably, feeling more and more insecure by the minute.

"I sense that you're not very happy with your lemons?"

"Actually, no I'm not. I suck at it, that's why I'm here."

"How did the group assignment work out for you?"

"Good, I think. At least I learned what words not to use..." I smile at him, and continue. "The girls were really helpful. I don't have that kind of vocabulary, being Swedish and all."

"I gathered from your pen name that English isn't your mother tongue. One of your friends confirmed it when we gathered in the classroom again. She thought I should offer you some help."

I stare at him, dumbfounded. Exactly what is he implying?

"I tell you what, why don't you stop by my office tomorrow? Bring your story, and we'll take a look at it together. Maybe you need some tutoring, and I'd be happy to help."

Oh. Oh! So, that's what Netra was saying to him. I need to thank her for that later...

I thank him for his time, and make a new appointment for tomorrow. As I head to the stairs I bring out my phone and text Netra.

Netra, U just got me a tutor... Thnx 4 that! Are U at coffeplace? /S

Still here. R U coming? Tutor name's Edward? /N

Hell yes, I got McSmutty as a tutor! Go me! /S

We spend a few hours at Starbucks, talking smut in general and McSmutty in particular. I still can't believe he actually offered to tutor me, he must really think I need help with this. That is not too far from the truth, though, so I guess I'm grateful for it. I'm excited in more than one way about our next appointment, and I have to say that it turns out to be the subject of my wet dreams for the night. Well, dream on. As if it would ever happen in real life…

I fiddle nervously with my papers as I wait for him outside his office the next day. I read my ugly smut lizard again and again, cringing at the words. To think that I'm about to read this out loud in a few minutes makes me want to puke. Netra read her in front of the entire class, and I try to tell myself that if she did that and survived, I will probably be okay reading it to one person in a small office. In an office full of erotic art, and a hot smut teacher. Crap, this isn't going too well.

He opens the door and invites me in, and I gather my papers before I follow him. I sit down in the chair and wait for him to speak.

"So, did you sleep well?" He asks. That's an odd question.

"Not really, I've been nervous about this since yesterday."

"Oh, there's no need for that. I'm sure it can't be that bad, and even if it is, I'm here to help you. Why don't you tell me a little about the story, and what you find most difficult with writing lemons?"

"Right… My story is an all-human one, where Bella and Edward have been married for a few years. They have kids, and their marriage kind of sucks. They fight a lot, and Edward is an ass, being less than helpful at home, and he is angry all the time. Bella has some issues, that manifest themselves as a fear of being touched, and they haven't had sex in a long time. In the beginning she is considering divorce, and this story is about their journey back to a happy marriage. That's pretty much it."

"Right… No teenage vampire sex, in other words?" He smiles and raises his eyebrow.

"Nope, none." I smile back at him. He is a lot nicer now, than he was in class yesterday.

"The biggest concern about my lemons is that I feel insecure about which words to use, and how to make it sound good. I read a lot of really hot and graphic smut that I love, done by authors like HunterHunting or tby789, and I realize I can never write like that."

"Mostly authors just need to find their own voice. Not all people have to write graphic scenes, and not all people like reading those kinds of lemons. Some actually prefer the more subdued limey ones; they can be extremely erotic. A wise woman once told me that she'd rather read a fade-to-black that leaves her wanting more, than a badly written lemon that reads like a book."

"Thank you for telling me this, it's reassuring! Maybe I'm just not that kind of writer… Or maybe I am. I just haven't realized it yet."

"So, will you let me hear your excerpt?"

The sick feeling in my stomach is returning in full force. I'm actually going to have to read this now. Shit, shit, shit!

"Um… okay… Could you turn around, maybe to the window or something? I think it would be easier if you weren't, you know, watching me while I read. Oh, and it's about Edward... ahem... touching himself... to, um, porn." My voice is trembling slightly, but he obeys and turns his back to me as I start to read.

"I groan as I browse through the pictures. There, this one… A dark haired woman is on her back, bound to a bed, legs and arms spread wide. Here eyes are covered with a silky black blindfold, her mouth and pussy are open, inviting, wanting and waiting.

God, if I could watch Bella like this.

Waiting for me, trusting me with her body…

She would be so beautiful.

I feel my cock twitch in my hands and my balls tighten, and change to another picture, pumping my hand harder and faster. I look at a woman lying face down on a bed. A pillow beneath her hips is lifting her ass up. Her legs are spread, her knees are bent, and her feet are up in the air. Her hands are on the bed, close to her breasts, as if she is about to do a push-up. Her upper arms are tied together, keeping her elbows apart with a space exactly as broad as her back. Her feet are above her ass, and her ankles are tied to the wrists of her hands, making it impossible for her to lower her feet.

I close my eyes and envision Bella in front of me, lying like that, tied up with her pussy bare and open, waiting for me to touch her, caress her. I imagine myself sitting beside her, caressing her back, slowly massaging the cheeks of her small, perfect ass. I hear her moan in my head as I see myself dipping my fingers into her, pressing rhythmically on that sweet spot inside, making her come again and again and again…

So pretty…


I feel my balls tighten as I'm about to come, and I take the towel to catch the juices I spill while watching other women than my wife.

I don't even look at the screen as I rise and turn the computer off. I toss the towel in the laundry basket, making a mental note to do the laundry myself tomorrow, so she won't have to pick up my used, filthy piece of masturbatory evidence, which by then will be starchy due to the dried semen."

I clear my throat as I finish reading. My hands are trembling and my legs are weak. I'm thankful that I'm sitting down, or I would probably embarrass myself even more by falling to the ground.

He turns to me, and watches me.

"Well done. I think you tackled that pretty well. It sounds like you knew exactly what you were talking about. You used appropriate vocabulary, it had a nice flow to it."

"Thanks." I think.

"So, how was it? Was it hard?"

"Yes, of course it was hard! How else was he going to be able to jerk... Oooh. That's not what you meant... Yeah, I'm glad I'm done with it." My voice trails off as I realize I'll probably have to read smut aloud again, in class. He did give us an assignment…

"Are we going to read our writing out loud in class again? Is that what's going to happen with our homework?"

"Some of it, yes. Some of them I'll read to you, and some you will read on your own. It is a good way to feel more comfortable with the words, you know. If you read them aloud they don't seem so threatening or harsh anymore. You get used to them."

"Oh…" It makes sense, although I'm not happy with the prospect of doing this again, in front of everybody. I'll have to practice with the girls first.

"The assignment I gave you, do you have any questions about that?"

"Yes, how do I do it? I mean, I know how to do it, but not how to write it." Oh. My. God. How stupid did I just sound?

"You did an okay job writing from a male point of view, so I think you'll be fine. Just… When you touch yourself, focus on how it feels, and try to describe that. Describe what you feel with your fingers, what you do, and how it feels when your fingers touch you like that. What noises do you make, what does the fabric on your bed feels like, what do you think about? Do you get what I mean?"

I blush again. This is weird. My teacher just told me to go home and get myself off, and then write it down so I can show it to him. If this was in another context, he would be out for sexual harassment in no time.

"I think I do." I grin sheepishly at him.

"Listen, why don't you take my email address? I have my card here. If there is a problem, don't hesitate to tell me. Okay?"

I must look like a fool as he puts the card in my hand, and I stumble out the door.

"Bye!" He hollers behind me.

I can't believe this is actually happening. I got him to tutor me, no wait, Netra got him to tutor me, and now I'm going home to rub the nub for him.

And I totally know what to think about while I do that.

A/N Sooo... what kind of homework would YOU like professor McSmutty to give us? Let us know! We hope you enjoyed this, next chapter is written by JillM12, and it'll be awesome! Don't forget to check out the Twilighted thread created by the fabulous FangMom: http:/www(dot)twilighted(dot)?f=46&p=1072796#p1072795