Chapter 5- Meeting the Parents

A/N: Hey everyone. We know, it's been forever and a day, but we PROMISED we'd update this, and we have. Thank you all for the millions of reviews kicking us in the ass for not updating along the way! Rest assured, this WILL get finished.

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Ever since the fight, things have toned down a bit in the classroom. I can't say that I'm too surprised, seeing as Stan is now labeled the undisputed badass of the sixth grade. If I was one of his classmates, I'd want his autograph.

I stare lazily out at the sea of students of my first period class once again. Three weeks in, we always have the parent conference. It's a given. It's required.

It's tonight.

To be honest, I always thought the conferences were a waste of time. If your kid's a fuckup, you should already know that, and if you don't well then you're goddamned stupid. Plus they always took one of my evenings from me, which means no unlimited sex. And a sexually pent up Kenny is an unhappy Kenny. I'm just a bundle of joy, aren't I?

I let out a deep breath and roll my hand further down on my cheek. This room looks like shit, and it's gotta be ready to impress the pants off of any single mother from these kids. I'm gonna have to enlist help.

Every year I always get the happy-go-lucky prep girls asking to help me, only cause they want to show me how much they like me. This year I don't see any of them in the class (thank god)...but I'm kinda hopin' my two faves volunteer.

I glance at the clock. Five minutes till the end of class and no hot minors in skimpy outfits around. Guess I'll have to settle for these guys.

"Okay, listen up everyone," I announce, clapping my hands together to snap everyone out of their reverie. "Who wants to stay after school and cause mayhem?" I try to reel them in.

I watch, pleased, as half of the class starts to raise their hand.

"I believe I am correct in the assumption this 'mayhem', as you put it, consists of us lemmings slaving away in your room to bring it to respectable standards for tonight's showing, yes?" the nerd kid with the thick black glasses asks without me even calling on him. Dammit, the hands immediately fall down.

I sigh. "Okay ENUS," I state, trying to think of the gayest and nerdiest name I can come up with on the spot, "I can tell you sound really into the idea. Thanks for volunteering, it means a lot to me. Be here at four."

"My name is William."

"Okay, and for the rest of you, yes, but if we set up the classroom quickly, THEN we can cause mayhem... in an empty school. Come on, I know you guys want to."

"Mr M?" I hear a familiar voice call. I turn to look at Him--the boy who has turned this class around, the very staple for my reasoning that Style is everywhere.

"You can count on us," King informs me, nodding to his equally important best friend.

"Sweet," I respond, and scan the room for anyone else. I see Simon smile brightly, and I know that he, too, is in on the fun.

Fun. That's what we'll call it.

"Anyone else?" I venture out.

Curls sits up, smiling brightly. "Charlie and I will!" She smiles, tossing a curl over her shoulder as tubby blushes ever so slightly.

"What?" emo exclaims, glaring at her friend almost the exact same moment Tubby declares he wants to help as well.

Majesty elbows his fat friend in the what-should-be-ribs, and glares at him. But he says nothing. I think I instilled the living fear of death into that boy--he hasn't mumbled a single word other than the correct answers in two fucking weeks.

I smile lopsided-ly at the students who've volunteered. Great, I've got an emo, a fatass, and a nerdstrom. Thank God my favorite student will be there.

The bell's about to ring. "Okay, get the hell out of my class," I say, grinning, dismissing them with a wave of my hand. "Those who didn't want to help, have fun tonight before your parents kill you after I tell them how horrible you've been here."

The class doesn't even so much as move from their chairs. I need to work on my joking skills.

"I'm joking," I spell out to them plainly.

I see King look around and chuckle at the lifeless faces of his classmates. He's completely at ease. Seems the only reason he hadn't gotten up was due to Stan holding onto his sleeve. He shrugs the kid off and gathers his books, twisting his fingers in a casual "goodbye" before he exits the classroom.

Perfect. Only 6 more classes of this shit.

The rest of them pass equally uneventfully. Would you believe it? We actually talk about sex in the other ones. Every time the classes snigger, I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing with them and glare instead. I mean, come on! I'm in my twenties, and it's still hilarious! What kind of kids take the words PENIS and VAGINA and TESTICLES snicker seriously?

As the last bell rings, I breathe a sigh of relief. Hardly anyone in my other classes so much as lifted a finger to volunteer for decorating my room. Good thing too. You know how you have your favorite child and stuff? No? Well, my parents did...

ANYWAY, I've got my favorite class. Yeah I'll admit it. And they're the ones that'll be in my room in about 15 minutes, so I better find Porschea for a quickie.

Luckily for me, Porschea can smell sex. Or my desire for it. I grin as familiar hands cover my eyes and a seductive 'guess who' is whispered into my ear.

"Am I allowed to feel who instead?" I respond, grabbing her waist from behind me. She giggles.

"I'm gonna lock the door, kay baby?" She says, taking my hands off of her.

After a little this and a little that (mostly THAT--what, you think I, the God of Sex am going to divulge any information on what makes us in a class of our own?), I pull my boxers back up and lean over her, sucking sweetly at her neck.

She giggles excitedly and points down to my still raging boner. It takes more than one time for that thing to go down. Do we have time? Do we?

Sure, we've got time.

"Ready for round two?" I smirk at her overenthusiastic nod. I really AM a sex god.

And she's my goddess.

Just as I start in on her again I hear a knock at the door.

I look at the time. 4:05. Shit.

The knocks increase. The doorknob begins to rattle too.

"Mr. M, we're here!" I hear King call out, and for once, I wish that little bastard wasn't so damn perfect and timely.

"Go away," I mutter, and it comes out more like a moan/grunt than anything. Anyone with a half a brain knows exactly whats going on behind THESE closed doors.

I hear a muffled 'What's going on?' from Stan outside the door.

"I think he's in there with someone," King hisses back.

"Oh. Doing what?" I smirk at Stan's innocence.

"Why are you being so quiet Kennyyyy?" Porschea whines.

I hear King take this in. "Fucking, probably," he decides, forgetting to lower his voice. "Hey Mr. M, we'll be back in a few minutes, kay?" He states, buying me some time.

"Who was that Kenny?" Porschea asks, and I'm unsure of why she wants to make small talk. We've got a destination, and we're going to make it if it's the last...

...thing...I...DOOOOOoooo...

"Fuck," I breathe, wiping my matted hair off my forehead and take in the sights of my absolutely gorgeous wife. She smiles back at me coyly. "You're hot when you're all sweaty," I tell her.

Her expression changes to confusion. "Well, that's WHY I sweat, Kenny."

I smile at my incredibly dimwitted but sexy as hell wife. I slap my forehead, playing along. "Oh, that's RIGHT! Stupid me." Porschea giggles at me and I take the opportunity to leave a series of kisses (some resulting in hickeys, not that that's any of your business) just under the collar of her shirt. We already got a warning about doing this in the schoolrooms from the principal once before, so we play it a little safer now. A little.

I button my fly and tuck in my shirt in the knick of time.

"McCormick! Open up!" I hear someone call, and I can't put a voice with a face. It sounds like authority. Shit! This time we might not be so lucky.

"Coming!" I yell to the door and urge Porschea to dress faster.

"Again? Damn Mr. M!" The authoritative voice has melted away to an innocent yet conniving child's voice, and I feel the relief immediately flood my body. As soon as my very satisfied wife adjusts her blouse, I swing open the door to reveal two snickering boys with wide smiles.

"You think you're so clever," I growl half-seriously. "Get the hell in here, King."

King strides in, looking on top of the world with Stanley grabbing his hand and drag-skipping him right up to the blackboard. Soon to follow are the other volunteers - I guess they had been waiting in the hallway? At any rate they seemed totally clued out on King's little joke - thank God.

"I gotta go baby; I'll see you laterrrr," Porschea drawls, rolling her tongue and slapping my ass while giving me a kiss on the cheek simultaneously before skipping out of the room like a schoolgirl.

I close my eyes for three seconds and take a deep breath, clearing my head (haha) of any thoughts.

Oh, who am I kidding? If I had any thoughts before, they were all shot out of me when I-

"What do you want us to do, Mr. M?"

What? "What? Oh! Uh...we gotta set up for your parents and stuff." I try my best to get back into authoritative mode. I watch King as he grins, nods, and looks around for something to do. That kid knows me. I don't know how, but he does. He knows I don't have any supplies to decorate with.

I look around the room, and decide to dig through my desk, to see if there's anything useful in there, or even something that the previous teacher left. In the meantime, I inform the minions to arrange the desks nicely. Out of my bottom drawer I find a half used glue stick, a package of string, a pair of slightly rusty scissors and some old glitter glue. Half of it looks dried up.

Thinking quickly as usual, I remember the papers that I had the students write at the beginning of the class. Maybe if some of these kids would be willing to show their papers... I doubted King would, of course, despite the fact that it was a completely brilliant paper and outdid everybody's by far.

"Ohhhhkay, who herre would like the parents to see their papers about the person you feel closest to? The first assignment of the year?" I call out, flipping through the pile.

"Oh! Oh me!" Stan practically screams, holding the person's hand down nearest to him to prevent them from raising it, which was coincidentally Charlie and not King for once. Charlie looks disgusted. "You can show everybody mine! I'm real proud of my work!" With that, Stan does a half turn that ends up being more of a spin to face King, and beams at the other boy.

King smiles back and dares to shoot a smile in my direction. It's one of those "You know what that means" smiles. And you know what that means...

I'm just counting down the days, or possibly HOURS, until Stan confesses his miniature love to his gay as a gay cruise best friend.

I adjust myself and look around the room. If I didn't know any better, I'd say these students are taking responsibilities into their own hands! They all seem to be finding things to hang up. I don't give a shit if they tear apart my unorganized shithole of a classroom anyway. Parent night has to be flawless--it's the best way to keep the community in the dark about what goes on here.

I continue to rifle through my desk in the meantime... half a roll of old yellow streamer that smells like someone shit it out... no thanks. Uh... hey we have chalk. We could... write... something... on the board??

I am interrupted from my contemplations with a familiar tug on my sleeve. Looking up from my work I am not surprised to see King looking at me earnestly.

"Hey Mr. M, could I take another look at my paper, real quick?" He asks, face reddening slightly.

I frown, wondering why he wants to see it. He wrote right on the paper that he didn't want anyone else seeing it... nonetheless, I dig King's out from the pile (it's right at the back) and hand it over to him.

His eyes rove it like a scantron, and I try my best to gage his reaction. Maybe he wants me to burn it so there's no trace of it in the classroom at all.

A minute later, he nods once, and hands it back over to me. "Here."

I accept it hesitantly. "...Thanks?" My statement is more of a question.

He smiles warmly once more. Jesus Christ that kid could melt ice cubes on that grin of his. "I want you to show it."

"Show it?"

"...On the display? For tonight? Parent teacher night?"

"...OH! Shit, King, you sure?" I wonder sometimes who's the teacher and who's the student between us.

"Yeah," King states confidently, despite the nervousness I spot in the slight twitching in his hands. "I have... nothing to hide."

"But... what about your note on it? About not showing anyone?"

With that, King takes an old pen on the desk, and scribbles over his words. "There," he says, content with this new change.

"You know if you put it out there, Stan might see it," I say in a low voice, our heads so close our foreheads are practically touching.

"Yeah, I know," he replies calmly. "I... already showed him."

This makes me choke on some non-existent piece of food. "You what?"

I watch the kid as he takes a deep breath, glances over in Stan's direction, and acknowledges his friend by doing the fan wave. You know, the kind where you stick your hand up and just move from one side to the other one time, swiftly. It looks like Stan is about to bust from happiness. Did it already happen? AND I MISSED IT?!?!

"I showed it to him after the...fight we had. At home, I let him read some of my rough draft."

"But why?" I ask, honestly curious. Unless...

"He asked me to let him." He sighs. "I can't say no to him."

"And?" I prod further, dying to know.

"And what?" King demanded, seeming almost defensive.

"Does he... did you?" Is all I manage to spit out cohesively.

"I told him nothing, duh," King states with a roll of his eyes. "I can't tell him you know. He doesn't know, and he won't ever."

"B-b-but," I stutter, wanting to tell him so badly about the bathroom incident I had had with Stan that one day, but knowing I should probably just let events unfurl. "What if he...?"

"He doesn't," King states firmly. "It doesn't matter anyways. Let everyone's parents see it. It won't make a difference now."

Is it just me or does King sound defeated? I ponder if he expected something to happen when he showed Stan his work...

"I didn't expect anything to happen, you know," he whispers to me, as if reading my thoughts. Okay, now he's getting a bit creepy. I study his blonde hair and innocent cute boy features. Did I have a kid and no one told me??

"Well, with your permission to show this baby," I say, tapping his paper, "I'm gonna look like one badass teacher." I smile at him, indicating a change in subject so he can get over being uncomfortable. I'm sure everything with him and Stan will work out. I haven't even pulled out the big stops yet and they're already well on their way to becoming boyfriends.

Speaking of big stops, we gotta hurry this shit up, otherwise parents will come in when I'm having an emotional moment with my students. That wouldn't be good now would it?

I look up from my meager findings and focus on the room, which looks like an almost completely brand new place. Work hanging up on the walls, desks tidied, textbooks set up against the wall... wow i didn't even know we HAD half of those textbooks. I whistle in awe, discreetly dumping my finding right back into the desk drawer I found them in.

"Good work guys, you all did a great job," I give them the deserved praise. "Anything else you guys want to do still?"

"Oh, I want to show my paper too!" Curls cried out excitedly, her form almost completely hidden by Tubby, who apparently had been trying to get her attention by pointing out something in one of the textbooks.

"Anyone else?" I ask. "Final chance guys. Heh, what about you, uhhhh," I forget Tubby's name, so instead I just point to him. I wonder if he'd want his mother to see the pie comment he made in his report. Tubby, as expected, shakes his head vigorously.

I see Stan lean over King to whisper something in his ear, but King just shrugs him off, frowning gently at the floor, humor obviously dampened from our conversation.

Stan looks concerned. I see him poke King in the side, and then take his shoulder. "Lu?" He asks, small forehead wrinkling in confusion.

"I'm fine," he responds, obviously not fine.

My heart reaches out to them, but just as I feel the slightest bit of strings being pulled, something much more concrete tugs at my shirt. Again. Jesus, what is it with these little tots? Do they not understand the importance of being masculine and speaking up?

"Mr. McCormick, I need to use the restroom." The quiet voice belongs to the one, the only Trevor. I hadn't even realized he was in the room. That idea saddens me too. That kid just needs some love.

"Go ahead, you don't need to ask me." He does as he's told, and I focus in on the soon-to-be couple.

"We need to get ready for our parents to come, Stan," King informs him. Shit, I missed their conversation.

Irritated that I didn't catch it, I look down at my watch. We've got about 30 min before I told parents to show up, but knowing how incredibly in-tune these parents are to their childrens' lives...we'll start seeing them sooner than that.

AhAHAHAHAHAHA! Had you going there for a second, didn't I? Nah, these parents don't give a rat's ass about their children anymore than their parents did. But they have problems telling time, so I'll see a few of them trickle in starting in about two minutes.

My thoughts are once again interrupted by a series of screams.

"Mayhemmayhemayhem!" The classroom appears to be done, and my earlier promise was obviously not forgotten by little Stan.

The other classmates are quick to chime in. "Mayheeeeeem!" I hear Curls screech shrilly, while Tubby doesn't hesitate to compliment her on her 'lovely voice'. Even Trevor seems a little into it, The only person, in fact, who doesn't, seems to be King, which surprises me. Still blue?

I let out a small laugh.

"Oh, I see. So you guys weren't willing to help out of the goodness of your hearts?" I tease, unable to hide my grin. They're all bouncing up and down like I'm dangling a treat in front of their faces.

"Not a chance, Mr. M," Stan jokes, looking to King for some sort of response. King half-smiles back to him. So Stan nudges him, and I hear him say "cheer up!" I want to run over and give them a big group hug.

...so that's exactly what I do. I skip across my desk and leap to their side, squeezing both boys as tight as humanly possible in between my arms and body.

"WHO'S READY TO WREAK HAVOC?" I invite, looking down at my two favorites, who might be turning a little red from lack of oxygen.

But King is laughing his good-natured natural laugh. I release them and slap them on the back as they all run out of the room.

I trail behind them, trying not to smile. They look like they all just shared a bag of crack together. I remember myself the same age - any chance to bring 'the institution' down, and I was there.

The kids turn around after a moment and look at me with inquiring eyes. "What do we do?" Tubby asks, practically drooling at the prospect of causing trouble. Someone fetch that kid a bathtub.

I stare at him with mock disbelief. "What do you do?" I walk over closer to them, causing them to shrink back. "WHAT DO YOU DO?!?!" I stand up away from them. "Do WHATEVER you want!"

Tubby looks over at Curls and they both shrug. Stan pumps his fist and nods ferociously. "YEAH!" he screams, but they all still stand there, unsure.

"Come on, guys!" Trevor pipes up. "We get to be bad butts! Let's run around the halls and...and open the classroom doors that we won't go into!" This mayhem is almost too much for his little brain.

I bust out laughing. "Yeah, you're a real badass." Hand the kid a jackhammer and a blowtorch, and he'd probably leave them in the corner while he 'terrorizes' the school with his girly scream.

"HEY!" Stan exclaims, shoving King excitedly. "You should do that voice you can do! The one that sounds like the principal!"

King grins finally, taking the cue. "You mean this?" He asks, in a voice frighteningly similar to the one I had heard earlier with Porschea. "We should make a weird announcement," he thinks. "Over the PA. When no one's looking."

Curls giggles, curls swaying, excited at the prospect. "What should it say?" She asks, curiously.

"I know!" Trevor screams, excited, like he's about ready to wet himself. "Lets say Mr. McCormick is the bestest teacher in the whole wife world!"

"They said weird," the four-eyed Enus kid reminds, pushing up his glasses. "Not false."

I sneer at him.

"We could say that our principal is going to marry a pie," Tubby suggests. Is everything about food to him?

"Aliens are invading the Earth and burning everything down, run for your lives?" King considers, rubbing his chin. "Nah, something believable, that's what we need."

"Parent-teachers' night is cancelled?" Stan suggests. "We could make all the teachers go home."

Emo sniggers. "Tell everyone there's a fire and evacuate the building."

"Attention," begins King, in a deep, booming voice. "Attention students. Miss Morrie in the cafeteria has spotted a fire, started by an unknown arsonist..." King ponders this for another few moments, still debating whether he likes the idea or not.

"That could get us in big trouble, guys," Trevor warns.

King laughs. "Yeah, but it'd be cool."

Stan's eyes show worry. "I don't want to get in trouble, Lu!"

King looks into Stan's eyes and smiles. "Okay, lets think of something else then."

They all stand there, faces showing deep thought and concentration. If only they looked half this serious in the classroom.

"Oh! Ohohohohohoh!" Stan finally exclaims, jumping up and down excitedly.

"What? What?" King asks enthusiastically, wanting to know the cause of his best friend's excitement.

"Ah! We should... w-we should..." Stan begins, looking as though he's about to hyperventilate over what is apparently the best idea he's ever had.

I look over at King, who's gazing at Stan with such anticipation. His eyes just show it, his heart just...

Whoa. What am I, a girl?! Shut the fuck up, Kenny!

Tubby snorts. "He's gonna pop a hernia," he tells Curls, who takes a step back as Tubby leans into her.

"YOUSHOULDSAYYOURECANCELLINGSCHOOLTOMORROW!!!" he screams out, grabbing King's hand, continuing to jump up and down.

"Is that it?" King clarifies, his grin wider than his face. He continues to hold Stan's hand.

"YEAH!" Stan cries out, furiously nodding his head. I can't help but snicker - I keep imagining his head falling right off his shoulders and onto the ground, grin and all.

"Okay," King laughs at the excitement of his best friend. "Who wants to use Stan's idea?"

King, apparently the new found leader of the group, counts the hands that raise, which is everyone save Emo, who's still muttering about arson.

"YEAH!" Stan screams again in satisfaction. Seemingly without thinking, he leans over and gives his friend a quick kiss on the cheek, but before anyone, including King, has a chance to react, Stan is halfway down the hallway, screaming at everyone to follow him.

I watch, partially in shock, as all of my half-bad ass students follow their newly appointed leader, while the old leader, and the reason for my shock, stands frozen in one spot. I walk over beside him and kneel down. He looks up at me through big, clear eyes.

"Did he-?"

I nod. "He sure did." Putting my hand on his shoulder, I look down the hallway, to where not even a trace of the last kid could be seen. We are all alone.

"Do you think he-"

"I think he did," I answer, feeling like I know this student enough to finish his thoughts and answer them for him.

King nods numbly, still touching the cheek that Stan had set his little boy lips upon not seconds before. "And did he-"

"I think he does," I respond. "Maybe."

King looks a mixture between euphoric and nauseous. "And-"

"I don't know," I respond.

"Are-"

"Yes?" I venture, determined to be ahead of the curb.

"Are you going to let me speak?" King demands of me, trying to frown and failing completely.

"Heh, sorry," I apologize. "Continue."

"What do you think I should do?"

I smile with him. "Am I allowed to answer this?"

"I asked you the question, didn't I?" I love how his little sarcastic mind works. If I could, I'd adopt this kid. ...If I wanted kids at all. If it wouldn't interfere with my busy life of sex and sleep.

My heart to heart with King is interrupted by a voice behind me.

"Mr. McCormick, I presume?" The voice says haughtily.

Not paying much attention, I turn back to King, "Go ahead, they need your voice don't they?" I whisper to him. King smiles and turns on his heel, walking in the direction of the office, and I stand back up and turn around to meet said parent.

"That'd be me," I say, shaking his hand heartily. I find that I freak out parents the friendlier and more back-hillsy I am. They think some redneck country boy is teaching their children, and I love to see their faces when they think that they are more educated than me. I bet this guy can't even spell b-o-a-t.

"The name's Henry. Henry Sampson. I'm Terry's father?"

Who the fuck is Terry and is that a boy or a girl? God, I've got to learn my students better.

"Oh TERRY'S father!" I over-exclaim. "Yes, yes. Marvelous student, that Terry. Care to come into my office?" I ask, turning Mr. Sampson around and placing my arm around his broad shoulders. We walk into the classroom and have a seat. Not long into talking about Terry (who's ends up being a girl), I hear the intercom switch on. We pause our sentences mid-word to listen to a bunch of garbled noise, then a long string of insults and arguments. Finally, there's a "CRAP" voiced directly into the speaker, and the intercom switches off.

Oh, how bad ass they are.

Mr. Sampson frowns at this. "Kids today," he sighs, clearly looking to me for sympathy, which I have none to offer. He looks about to say something, but is interrupted by a knock on the classroom door.

"Welcome, come on in," I call out, and a loud, boisterous looking woman enters the room. She's on the hefty side, which normally wouldn't bring much attention to her, except for the fact that it looks like she ran here. She wipes her sweaty forehead with a Kleenex, and brushes her thick black hair away from her face. She walks briskly for a woman her size, and I stand up to meet her. Her eyes and hair remind me of... oh no. No no. That can't be right.

"You must be MY little STANNY'S SEX education teacher," she states loudly, emphasizing random words for no apparent reason. I try to stop my eyes from bulging out of my head as my suspicions are confirmed. I extend my hand and cringe as she grabs firm hold. How does someone so cute come from someone so...so...

"HUGE pleasure to meet you, Mr. McCormick!" Her voice radiates through my veins, making me shudder. "My little Stanley tells me so much about how he loves this class." She waddles over to the empty chair beside Mr. Sampson, who looks as disgusted as I did when I saw Kyle's elephant make love to Cartman's pig. He seems extremely uncomfortable, and when Mrs… Mrs. Stan's mom leans over to give him a handshake, he bids farewell to me.

"We'll be in touch, McCormick. I want to see Terry's efforts paying off," he tells me sternly.

"Will do, Henry. Pleasure meeting you." Prick.

"So TELL me," Gargantua starts in on me again. "What unit are you on right now? The human reproductive system? STDs? Protection, like CONDAWMS?" This woman practically jiggles every time she makes any sort of movement. Scrape her into a tray and you could make Jell-O out of her.

"HI MOM!!" Stan and the rest of the classmates appear in the doorway. They all take off again, supposedly to cause more mayhem, while King remains with Stan, who runs towards his mother and jumps into her lap, where he is nearly consumed by her fleshy arms.

"Hello there Stanny," she replies, giving her child an obnoxious kiss on the head. "Oh, and hello to you too, LUCAS," she smiles again, seeing her son's best friend standing nearby.

Hey Mrs. B," he greets back, smiling warmly.

"Are you boys having fun with each other?" she asks, and I about spit out whatever liquid is in my mouth, even though I'm drinking nothing.

"Yeah, we sure are!" Stan squeals excitedly. "Mom, can I sit in on the conference?"

She frowns, and I see several chins form. No WONDER Stan has interest in his best guy buddy. If the only women in my life looked like this, I would too. "Sweetie, I think your teacher and I have to talk about you without you here."

"I thought you told me it's not nice to talk about others when they're not around," he tells her, mildly confused. I smile at his innocence. King smiles too, pulling Stan down from his mom's lap.

"Let's leave, dude. They need some alone time," he says, winking at me. He knew that'd make me throw up a little.

Mrs. Benton smiles fondly after her son. "Stan's always been such a good boy," she observes carelessly. "I trust he hasn't been too much trouble to you?"

"Not at all," I reply truthfully. "He's one of a few that aren't, to be honest."

"Those two," she sighs, shaking her head. "Always keeping each other in check. They're so sweet; good friends like that are hard to find, aren't they?"

Again, I am honestly allowed to respond. "Yeah, they are," I reply, thinking in the back of my mind 'and not just because of the friendship bit.'

"Wouldn't be surprised if those two married each other one day," she chuckled, and upon seeing my jaw drop, changes the subject abruptly. "So what sort of things have you been teaching them so far, Mr. McCormick?"

I blink to erase any ideas coming through my head right now. She didn't really just say that, did she? Just the same, I think I'll tell her what really has been going on in here.

"Well, Mrs. B," I begin.

"Call me Belinda."

"O...okay, Belinda. I firmly believe in teaching an...alternative style of sexual education to my youngsters. After all, these are the impressionable years, and if I can get them to walk into life with an open mind, the possibilities that lie before them are endless." Wow, I don't really know what I just said, but it sounds pretty intelligent. She nods, making me believe that it was coherent as well.

"Oh I concur, Mr. McCormick. I believe that little Stanley is just now starting to understand his own budding feelings, whether they are for me, his dog, or his best friend. Sexual education at this young of an age shouldn't be about the sex, but about the development and understandings of the development." She leans forward and puts a hand on my desk. "I'm just so pleased that Stanley could have someone so open and direct in this fragile time of his life."

I put my hand over my mouth, trying to stop myself from coughing up my liver. Is she referring to me or King? This woman is playing on a whole other field. I can't help but have a bit of respect for her.

"Belinda?" A small voice calls out from the doorway. A woman enters. Or rather, I think it's a woman. The figure is so thin there's not much that can be made out. She looks maybe 30 at best, and has long, wavy blonde hair that ends near one of the nicest pair of tits I've ever seen. Nothing compared to my wife's, but the point remains. She looks up at me through fiercely green eyes, and a hint of recognition flashes across her face. "Hello, Mr. McCormick" she states politely, as Stan's mother rushes up to hug the woman an eighth her size.

"It's so good to see you, Tracey," she states emphatically.

As I walk over in a daze to greet this dazzling creature, hoards of small little boys tumble into my classroom. They, too, are gazing up at the beautiful specimen of a woman, who, I can only assume to be one my students' mother. Lucky son-of-a-bitch.

The closer I get, the more drool I see appear on every single boy standing behind her. Suddenly, my two favorites walk in and around the cluster of boys in heat.

"Hi there, Stan," Tracey calls out after hugging Belinda. I turn my attention to Stan, expecting to see him blushing, drooling, or hyperventilating, just like the rest of these prepubescent boys. But he just smiles, standing next to King.

"Hi!" he exclaims, and then turns to his best friend once more.

King blushes. "Hey mom."

It takes me a moment to comprehend this new discovery. In fact, it takes right up until Tracey bends over to give her son a hug.

"Aw, mooom!" King complains, swatting her away a little bit. Stan looks amused at this, and takes the opportunity to poke his friend in the side. King pokes him back, and a supposed epic poking war starts out again.

Tracey, watching this, laughs and steps over to me, taking my hand firmly. This woman looks so familiar... do I know her?

"Good to meet you," I state obliviously, shaking the slender creature's hand.

She smiles at me, tilting her head to the side slightly. "Ken... don't you remember me?" She asks, her face reminding me of someone who had just recognized an old friend.

"Uh...I...um..." I stutter.

Belinda senses the tension and awkwardness of this whole meeting, and decides to leave, taking the pack of predators with her. "I'll be outside, Mr. McCormick. Come along boys!" she instructs, grabbing several of them by the collar. She scoops up about twelve with a single arm span. I see all of this out of the corner of my eye.

King, too, senses uneasiness. "Yeah, we'll be too," he mumbles, pulling Stan out with their interlocking fingers.

Alright Kenny. Think. Think! "Tracey..."

She laughs. "Figures you wouldn't remember, asshole." But her tone is soft and flirty, so I don't think she's upset with me. My only conclusion is...

OH fuck.

I look at the figure of King, just disappearing out of sight, and then back to Tracey. They definitely have some similar characteristics but... I look at her finger. There's a ring. Please say it's his kid. Please, oh please...

Tracey looks at my face evidently filled with concern, and lets out a lighthearted laugh. "You think you look like him?" She asks, nodding her head towards the door. "You should see his father. They're practically identical." At this I let out a silent breath of air. Safe. Thank God. For a moment I thought this was going to turn into a bad episode of Jerry Springer. 'Surprise! You have a kid!'

"Besides, you really think I'd want you to find out this way? That's so cheesy!" she says, smiling. "Bill will be here any minute, I just wanted to smooth out anything between us...though I see now I had nothing to worry about." She hits me. "How could you NOT REMEMBER ME?"

I move back, cradling my arm. She hits hard for a MILF! "Ouch! I remember you!" I plead, knowing full well that I wouldn't have. How could I not remember a body like that...

"Kenny, you're doing it again." She brings her finger to my chin, and pushes my face back up so I'm staring into her face. "Maybe if I showed you those then you'd remember."

"Can't hurt to try..." I say, and I receive another hit to the arm.

"So how is Lucas doing in your class? When he told me who his Sex Ed teacher was, I knew I'd have to come here and see for myself."

"Lucas... who? Oh, right," I responded cleverly, temporarily forgetting my prize student's name under the glare of his mother's breasts. I debate how much I should tell his mother - after all, wasn't it our secret that he could do much better if he wanted to?

"Lucas..." I start again. "Lucas is definitely one of my top students here; you should be proud of your son. Bit of an attitude, but that more just adds to his personality than anything else..." I trail off, my eyes constantly focusing themselves downwards. Dammit eyes, pay attention! Face! FACCCE!

"Hmph, he gets that attitude from his father," she explains, laughing. "...I'm UP HERE!"

"Tracey, he's got the smarts to make it, I can see this even in the sixth grade."

"What you consider smart and what I consider smart are two very different things, Kenny. Lucas doesn't have a bit of confidence and..." She rolls her eyes and sighs. "...And I know I'm going to regret asking this, but I know you have liquid confidence running in your blood. Can you help him realize himself?"

"Realize himself?" What, like help him realize his sha-wing for his best friend? Does that count as realizing. "Way ahead of you, actually. Picked... up on that myself. Been trying to help him gain some confidence and...that sort of stuff," I finish lamely. "I'll... do everything I can for Ki-Lucas. He's a good kid."

Tracey turns her head again, and purses her lips. Goddamn she's hot. "What were you going to call him?"

"What?" I ask, getting lost in her eyes, YES, her eyes, this time. She blinks and I refocus. "Oh, I've got nicknames for all my students."

"Ha. Kinda like for all your girlfriends?" She leans in close to me.

I shake my head, clearing my mind of all potentially delicious thoughts about to invade. "Tracey, I-I think that...I think Lucas is gonna be just fine." For the first time, I'm sweating that a woman is coming on to me.

Lucas's father takes this moment to walk into the classroom. And goddamn, he DOES look like Lucas - I mean King. It's near creepy, and I shy away from the woman who is his wife. His wife, the milf. Goddamn that guy is lucky. Not as lucky as me with Porschea... but still. Hot damn. She's not a bad second place trophy.

Tracey gets up to greet her husband with a quick kiss to the cheek. She leads him over to me, and we shake hands. What's creepy is that their voices even sound similar.

"Belinda said you were in here, thought I'd barge in," he says, his arm still snaked around his wife's back. Not that I blame him. "You must be Lucas's Sex Ed teacher."

I extend my hand. "Sure am, pleased to meet you, Bill." Score 2 points for my awesome memory! See? I DO listen to beautiful women when they tell me things. The longer I sit with this couple, the more I see that Tracey wasn't hitting on me--she's just as flirty as I remember her. And yes, I remember her now.

We sit and talk in a friendly manner for a good some minutes, before they decide to head back home. Too bad they can't find their kids; Stan and King appear to have vanished off for a moment. I decide to help Belinda, Tracey and Bill out and we all take off in separate directions.

They're not hard to find; I find them sitting together in the middle of an empty hall, playing Red Hands, their laughter echoing down the halls. You know that game? You play rock paper scissors and whoever loses gets smacked on the back of the hands by the winner. I come up to them, and both of their hands look pretty near tomato red. Ouch, boys. They look up at me in unison, and tilt their heads in opposite ways so that they end up bumping them.

"Play time is over, boys," Bill announces coming up from behind me. Just as I was about to make some smartass comment too. I turn around to see him walking hastily up and scooping King off the ground.

"Your mom's looking for you too, Stanley." He faces me with King in his arms. Ah, I remember being that little and having a dad to pick me up. "Thanks for everything you're doing, Mr. McCormick."

I grin. If I didn't have a sneaking suspicion that Bill knew about Tracey and me, I'd ask him out for drinks sometime. He seems like a cool dude. "Happy to do it," I reply, and play-punch King on the shoulder. "See ya tomorrow, kid."

King smiles widely at me, then looks down at Stan, who's still sitting on the floor. "Later, Stan."

Stan smiles up at him, rubbing his minorly injured head. "Bye Lu."

After King and his father disappear out of sight, Stan picks himself up off the ground.

"I gotta find my mom now, bye!" He says to me quickly, and goes running off from where King and his father just left. I just shake my head, wondering how much longer it's going to take before they finally kiss, for real. I hope the plans I already have formulating in my plan for future classes work. And if I'm really lucky, King and Stan may not be the only ones hooking up.

The rest of the interview time passes by uneventfully. About ten other parents decide to put enough effort into their kids to pay their teachers a quick visit. Told you this place was a shit hole.

When the announcement comes on that kicks the parents out and lets the teachers leave, I gather my jacket and other shit and high tail it to Porschea's room where, of course, there are about five single fathers desperately seeking her 'advice'.

I announce my coming with a loud clear of the throat. "Ready, baby?" I walk over to her as she stands up, planting a rather graphic kiss on her lips. When I pull away, I glare at the pathetic losers. "Beat it, its time for us to lock up."

The parents leave dejectedly, and we make quick work of locking the rooms up. Heading outside, I swear, realizing we've forgotten about our end-of-the-day fucking. I glance around - the place is almost entirely deserted, and darkness is setting in. I growl in my wife's ear and lead her, giggling, around to the bleachers.

"I missed you," I state simply before attacking her neck with my lips, tongue and teeth.

"I missed you too," she purrs. "Its not nearly as fun getting hit on by this entire town. I'd rather be with y-OOOOOU!!!!" Her ego-boosting thoughts are halted as I find that sweet spot on her neck and bite down.

I laugh evilly and pull away. "It's dark in here and you're all alone. What ever are you going to do?" I ask her, preparing for another round of role-play.

"I'm not all alone. You're here!" she reasons, her body quaking with desire.

"MMmm, that's right. And I'm about to take advantage of you." I bite down again.

"Oh no!" she giggles. "Now I'm a vampire too. I vant to zuck your blood," she plays, biting her lips and pushing me away.

"You can zuck anyzing you vant, temptress," I reply. As she pounces, the only sounds I hear are our rapid breaths and grunts of ecstasy. Did you honestly think we could forget about our daily tradition? Hey, I may not remember too much, but I will never be that forgetful.