intriguess
sexual catalyst
- Joined
- Sep 3, 2000
- Posts
- 11,683
"Come on pretty boy, I dare you."
It was the sound of doom, as any frat guy will take any dare at that point. What a dare it was, to attend classes as a girl until he made friends with Ms. Brainiac Jones. Or at least that's what everyone called her, he didn't even know her first name. He attended one of those formal Universities where instructors called you by your last name. So here he was freshly shaved and made up, wearing an itchy wig. At least he looked good in the dress, and if he was lucky he'd make it to class on time.
Monica Jones, better known as Ms. Brainiac Jones always felt left out, perhaps because she attended the prestigious University on a scholarship and not because her family donated a building or whatever. The dress code called for 'proffesional' attire, basically no jeans, no t-shirts, not that it kept the other girls from wearing tube tops and super short skirts. Ms. Jones was wearing a long pale blue skirt, long sleeved shirt, and a navy jacket. It was reasonable cold today and even if it weren't her computer classes were always air conditioned to the max. She allowed her long chocalate colored hair to hide her face and her glasses. It seemed that every other student was a blonde bombshell who would be seen dead before they wore glasses. She was glad her jacket concealed her curvy figure as she slipped into a front row seat for Psych class. She tried to enjoy all her classes but there were so many Barbie wannabes and frat boys in Psych that it was tough to focus on the material at times. The only good thing was that they would never be caught in the front row and so she could spread out her backpack, book, and notebook.
It was the sound of doom, as any frat guy will take any dare at that point. What a dare it was, to attend classes as a girl until he made friends with Ms. Brainiac Jones. Or at least that's what everyone called her, he didn't even know her first name. He attended one of those formal Universities where instructors called you by your last name. So here he was freshly shaved and made up, wearing an itchy wig. At least he looked good in the dress, and if he was lucky he'd make it to class on time.
Monica Jones, better known as Ms. Brainiac Jones always felt left out, perhaps because she attended the prestigious University on a scholarship and not because her family donated a building or whatever. The dress code called for 'proffesional' attire, basically no jeans, no t-shirts, not that it kept the other girls from wearing tube tops and super short skirts. Ms. Jones was wearing a long pale blue skirt, long sleeved shirt, and a navy jacket. It was reasonable cold today and even if it weren't her computer classes were always air conditioned to the max. She allowed her long chocalate colored hair to hide her face and her glasses. It seemed that every other student was a blonde bombshell who would be seen dead before they wore glasses. She was glad her jacket concealed her curvy figure as she slipped into a front row seat for Psych class. She tried to enjoy all her classes but there were so many Barbie wannabes and frat boys in Psych that it was tough to focus on the material at times. The only good thing was that they would never be caught in the front row and so she could spread out her backpack, book, and notebook.