"And that's about it, Mr. Parker," said the teacher, shuffling a handful of papers with her thin hands, eyeing her student's father just above her glasses. The boy sat inattentive, fidgeting a pen in his hands, likewise oblivious to his teacher's foot creeping up his father's leg under the round table. Mrs. Cole then stood up, dropping the papers in front of her and continued, "he just needs to pay closer attention in class," she paused, watching the boy now. "But above all else, he needs to stop misbehaving."
Frank Parker stood up, his willpower torn between holding back his laughter, and playing professional. "As always, Mrs. Cole, thanks for your time. I'll see to it the boy gets more discipline at home." Frank turned and walked his son to the door, then said "why don't you go find your friends and wait for me, I almost forgot I had a few questions for your teacher," and locked the door behind him. Immediately he felt her arms wrap around him, one hand moving up against his hard chest, one hand moving down under his leather belt. He drew the curtain down and turned to face her, she stood a few inches shorter than him, the top buttons of her shirt already undone, her shoes lay thrown somewhere behind her.