The Highest Learning

Chapter 17-The Next Meeting and Drawing the Lines

He had to admit, the encounter was kind of inappropriate, but it was still a little steamy, as well. He replays that night in his mind how sultry she managed to make the words "glans penis" sound as she said them.

He might have even thought about her a little again when he sat on his masturbatory throne in front of his computer. Heck, she probably went home and flicked her bean while thinking about their encounter, too. But, this is where the line would be drawn, though.

He can't help himself from having these types of thoughts, and maybe it's fine if he fantasizes about her, but that is where the buck stops. It can never go beyond this. This is where a man has to draw a hard line in the sand, as one of his former coaches would say when he was emphasizing something important or talking about character.

He was noticeably absent at the rec league basketball game yesterday, but this was not totally uncommon. The students knew that his responsibilities as a teacher sometimes took him away from games, so it should be considered a gift when he does grace them with his presence. Besides, it was a game right after class, and he usually only made it to the later games.

Mr. Hardwick shows up to class the next day and sparkled once again. Not his absolute best edutainment session, but still pretty damn good...8 or 9 out of 10 by his own estimation, which he considered above average by his account.

Class concludes and Suzanne is anxiously waiting along the side of the room, ready to start their final private study session that week. He is not quite as eager to begin, because he's not sure if Suzanne is playing him yet, but he still relishes any opportunity to help a student. As luck meeting preparation would have it, opportunity was only thing left standing on the side of his classroom.

She came down to the front of the room. She was wearing another pair of yoga pants that ended a few inches below her belly button and a sports bra with a loose fitting tank top over it, her bare midriff exposed. She had done yoga before class, just as she usually did on Wednesdays, but it was not exactly the most appropriate outfit for class.

Diane Springer had taught her that a woman should be able to wear anything she wants without getting ogled. No one was ogling Diane Springer.

If Suzanne dared so much as even sniff a man trying to get an eyeful of skin by looking in her direction, she would be quick to emasculate him and shut him down. For someone that didn't act like a sex bomb, she sure knew how to dress the part sometimes. It's her body, and they have no right to it in any capacity, not even to get a quick, barely noticeable treat for cranial nerve II. The optic nerve.

The men in the class don't bother with her, because she has a reputation with them, not from anything she's spoken to them directly, but from how she generally presents herself. Patrick also pretends not to notice the skimpy outfit, before proclaiming, "Let's begin."

"Anatomy names many structures in Latin, because it is a dead language and not subject to change, so professionals from all over the world can communicate with one another using the same terms. For instance, there's the 'linea alba,' which translates to 'white line.' It's a white line of connective tissue that runs down the center of the rectus abdominus muscle, which forms the '6 pack'."

She likes how authoritative he is when he speaks. They flip through the pages of his well-worn anatomy book, reviewing some of the structures. He pauses to add a few that aren't in the book. "The Venusian dimples are indentations that lie right over the posterior superior iliac spines."

She quickly stands up. "Like here?" she questions in an ignorant voice while scrunching her face inquisitively and pointing with the pointer fingers of both hands to the convex surface on either side of her abdomen. She has pointed near where someone's love handles, which are non-existent on her, would be.