In Front Of Four Hundred

"Alright, I need a couple volunteers here..." The professor swept the lecture hall and began to walk up the steps towards my row.

Why did I pick today to sit near the aisle?

Why did I choose then to meet my professor's searching gaze?

He walked up to me and held the microphone to my face.

"Would you be a brave soul and volunteer for us, please?" he asked. I couldn't shake my head no—the humiliation of declining such a prestigious opportunity would be worse than facing it. I nodded, shrugging.

"Okay," I said, forcing away the blush in my face.

"You're single, right? Not breaking any rules here?" he clarified.

"Yeah, I'm single."

"Good, good."

Out of four-hundred students, the professor chose me, and so I sat up in my chair and followed him down the steps to the front of the lecture hall. The slideshow of proper kissing techniques were still presented on the large projector overhead and frozen on the awkward photo of a guy practically devouring the girl's lips.

I attended one of the only universities in the state that offered an in-depth sex class. The whole semester we got to learn about sex positions, sexual behavior, oral and anal sex, and even the art of kissing and flirting. Everything anyone ever needed to know about the art in the bedroom was right here in this class. I didn't take it because I was ignorant in such knowledge—I took it because I was curious.

Was I doing sex right?

I never thought there was a right or wrong way to have sex, but apparently so.

Today was our lecture on how to kiss properly—all manners of kissing, too. From pecks to lip nibbling to all-out tongue wrestling.

I walked to the front of the lecture hall and stood there awkwardly as the professor turned to the class, announcing: "I need a male volunteer, please! Let's see...who's going to be the lucky guy?" He walked all the way to the back of the lecture hall and I tuned him out.

I was dying to know who I was about to make out with in front of four-hundred other people, but a part of me didn't want to know. It didn't matter. Kiss and be done with it. I just begged it wasn't some nerdy, horribly inexperienced guy. The last thing I wanted to do was clash teeth with someone with braces.

"You, sir, are you up for it?" the professor asked. He was so far back in the room I could barely make him out of the endless rows of eyes, backpacks, and faces. Half the class was turned to watch the professor choose his next victim, and the other half was watching me. A girl in the front row met my eyes and smiled.

"You nervous?" she asked. I shrugged, smiling back.

"I guess, yeah. Wasn't expecting this when I woke up this morning," I sniggered. Several other people in earshot laughed, too.

"Don't worry, we won't judge," she promised. "Well, at least I won't."

"Thanks."

"Yeah, okay," a deep, male voice said into the microphone.

"Single?" the professor clarified.

"Sure am."

"Alright, looks like we got our lucky winner!"

I looked to where the professor's orange sweater walked back down to the front of the lecture hall, trailed by a tall guy in a black leather jacket.

Oh shit.

The guy was gorgeous. He was darker skinned and had the on-comings of a five-o-clock shadow on his chin, his face long and lean-boned. A crooked, endearing smile, a carefully defined nose, and piercing dark blue eyes summed up a face carved by Michelangelo. His hair was raven-black, wavy, and plentiful, and there were cute little black curls at the base of his neck just above the rim of his jacket. Even through the clothes, I could tell this guy was lean but muscular—he must work out or play some type of sport.

At least it wasn't a nerd with glasses and braces.

But this was almost worse.

His eyes met mine as he walked up to the front of the lecture hall and his crooked grin became more defined, traveling up into his eyes. He stopped right next to me, putting me between him and the professor. The guy stuffed his hands in his pockets, rocked comfortably in his black Adidas, and I felt my heart push against my sternum.

My eyes drifted to his lips—I couldn't help it. I was about to kiss him, after all, and they were full and intoxicating against his dark skin.

"So, we've got two very brave souls up here," the professor said, waving to us. The class giggled with nervous bubbles. Yeah, it was nothing compared to what was going on in my stomach.

I really liked our professor—he was funny and easy-going talking about otherwise very embarrassing class content. Saying "swallowing semen" in front of four-hundred college students would have been hilarious and awkward from any other professor, but he seemed so at home with it. He went on a tangent about penis sizes earlier this week, and I listened, totally engrossed and forgetting that we were in a college lecture hall.

The four-hundred other students in this class were strangers, but we all shared a discretion. We could talk about our worst and best sex experiences with the nameless person sitting next to us, and they wouldn't judge.

I'd never seen this guy standing in front of me before. I would have remembered his face if I had—he could've stood out of a crowd of ten thousand because of his sheer masculine beauty. He put most male models to shame.

"How are you two doing?" the professor asked, breaking me out of my stare. I glanced at him, then at the class, and nodded.

"Good," I said, making sure my voice carried and didn't crack under the pressure.

"He good enough for you?" the professor laughed. I laughed with the class.

"Yep. He'll do fine."

"And what about you, fine sir?" He turned his attention to the Greek god standing two feet away. I looked at his face, but he was still staring at me. I tried very hard not to get locked in his gaze, but with those ocean-blue eyes it was a difficult feat.

"A bit nervous," this guy admitted with that deep bass of a voice. "But I'm fine."

"Is she close to your type at all?" the professor wondered, just to play around with us. The class giggled as he shrugged with raised eyebrows.

"Pretty close," he said. I grinned sheepishly.

"So, what're your names?" the professor said, handing the microphone to me. I took it and noticed my hands were shaking. I hoped nobody else could notice.

"Alina," I said.

"Alina, wow, that's an exotic one!" the professor said with approval and then he handed the mic to the guy across from me.

"Jeremy," he announced.

"Alright, Jeremy, Alina, I'm going to ask you to do something..." The class laughed at the short pause and he grinned, too. He put his hand out for emphasis. "I want you to role-play. You know, start out tame, then we'll get a little more, how would you put it, hot and spicy, alright?"

I laughed to ease the tension and raised my eyebrows at Jeremy. His crooked smile reappeared and his arrogance shone through, too. He was testing me?!

The class hollered and cheered.

"First off, the video went on describing the affectionate kiss. The short peck on the lips, just to say 'Hello, honey! Good to see you again!' Not that I'm trying to compare you two to an old married couple, but you get my point."

We all laughed along.

"Let me ask you something. Jeremy, when going for the affectionate kiss, do you think the guy should initiate?"

Jeremy nodded. "Yes."

"Can the girl initiate this, too?"

"Of course," he said, agreeing with the rest of the mumbling class. "It can go either way."

"Which, in your opinion, do you think is better?"

"If the girl does," he said without skipping a beat. The professor immediately turned to me.

"And, Alina, which would you prefer—the guy or you initiating the affectionate kiss?"

"The guy," I said with a placating smile at Jeremy.

"Ah!" the professor noted. "An impasse, I see... Alright, here's what we'll do. We'll do both. How about that?"

"Sure," Jeremy and I said at the same time.

"Jeremy, you first, you first. Show us your best affectionate kiss on miss beautiful Alina here," he said, waving and encouraging him towards me. The professor took a step back and the class went silent. Jeremy and I locked eyes and we were both still testing each other with our crooked smiles. His eyes were shining.

"You okay?" he mumbled, just for gentlemanly sake.

"Do what you gotta do," I laughed.

And then, Jeremy took a small step forward and stood right in front of me. I could feel his body heat and it sent goosebumps to my arms. I tilted my chin up to see his eyes boring into mine, and then one of his hands swept through my hair at the back of my neck and it pulled my whole neck and face closer. Or maybe that was me, reacting to the irrational tug in my chest that sent me to my tiptoes, reaching for him. He was so tall!

He dipped his head and I closed my eyes with a silent, internal sigh. His lips swiped affectionately against mine, soft and sweet, and though I was yielding and equally soft I let him do the work. I didn't realize it would be so hard to keep appropriately still. And how did my hands end up on his sides, clutching him closer?

He pulled away just as fast as the kiss started and I dropped my hands the same time he did. I was blushing smartly, in both adrenaline and embarrassment, because I became aware we just kissed in front of four-hundred other pairs of eyes.

There was an "aw" sigh coming from a girl in the front row and a couple of guys hollered in approval.

I opened my eyes to see him regarding me through slightly narrowed eyes, as if trying to decipher what just happened. The fire in my blood wasn't just on my end, was it?

We took a small step back and let the icy air cool our resolve. I licked my lips and I tasted him on my skin—tangy, musky, and luxuriously inebriating. He didn't taste like anything in particular that I remembered, but it was delicious.

Jeremy's eyes hardly swayed from mine and felt the heat of his gaze flushing on my chest. Something between my hip bones boiled and clenched, sending sparks and tingles to the crevice between my legs. My panties were wetter than usual, and my heart flustered in response. On the outside, I kept my cool, but my insides began to set fire.

"That was remarkably sweet, Jeremy," the professor said, and his voice in the microphone behind me made me jump. "Well done, both of you. Now, please, Alina...show us how you would initiate such a kiss."

On instinct, my eyes flickered away from the professor and up to Jeremy's face again. I got absorbed in him, and my yearning to kiss him was powerful. I wanted to feel his soft lips again, smell the scent on his skin, taste that musky deliciousness on my tongue.

I didn't ask him if it was okay, because the dark blue fire in his eyes was too intoxicating to stop and ask questions. I flew up onto my tiptoes and my arm wrapped around his neck, pulling him down to meet me. Being in control, it was harder to rein myself in, but I still only playfully moved my lips against his for two seconds before I disengaged and stepped away. Only after I put the gap between us did I realize he'd put his hands on my waist.

Oh my. The heat in my skin where he touched me through the clothes was heavenly.

It took us a few seconds to look away from each other. Jeremy's mouth was firm, resolute, and the blue fire in his eye disappeared. I turned towards the professor with a small smile. He hadn't said anything.

"Was that alright?" I mumbled. The class chuckled behind me as the professor nodded.

"Yep. That was great," he encouraged. "Enthusiastic. That's good! I needed eager volunteers." He stepped up to the class and talked for a few more minutes about the nature of the affectionate kiss, giving me a few moments to steady myself and catch my breath.

I knew my professor too well to hope that he wouldn't make Jeremy and I make out. And I tried to mentally prepare myself for that right around the corner. I refused to look in Jeremy's direction.

"...most common in married couples," the professor wrapped up. He turned to us animatedly. "Now, the French kiss, on the other hand, is a bit more complicated. Volunteers, I promise this is going to be the most awkward part. Stick out your tongues for me, please."

I pressed my tongue between my teeth as the class giggled. My expression was confused and placating.

"That is the most important tool in French kissing. And it's not a free for all in there between your lips. There are horror stories where a bad French kisser would just shove their whole tongue into their partner's mouth—!" There were a series of disgusted sounds in the audience and I scrunched up my face.

Yeah, I'd definitely experienced a horrible kisser like that.

"So, yes, there is an art form to it. There is a correct way to move your tongue to enhance pleasure to both yourself and your partner. The video described two main pleasure points to the tongue—the tip and the underside. Tickling is one way to enhance the experience. There's also knotting, as the video described, where the tongues feel each other. The most effective strategy, though, is tantalizing. Teasing. Kissing is foreplay, and so it shouldn't be full-frontal aggressive all the time.

"I'm going to ask these two to French kiss the correct way in demonstration. A physical example is better than a movie, in my opinion. Trust me, folks, you won't forget this!"

I sure wasn't.

The professor strode over to Jeremy's side and I looked at both of them. Our professor only came to Jeremy's shoulder and he handed him the microphone. "Okay, Jeremy," the professor started. "I, and the class, too, want to see the correct kissing technique we saw earlier today in the video. Do you know how to do that?"

"Yes," he said right away. I couldn't help the blush as I regarded the Adonis again. How experienced was he? Judging by his arrogance, he'd gotten around, and knew his shit about kissing and sex in general. Not to mention his looks could win over Jessica Alba.

"You sure?" the professor pressed, just to play with him, and the class laughed. Jeremy chuckled once under his breath, that crooked smile returned, and he nodded.

"Yes, I'm sure," he said.

"Alina? Do you know how to do the correct kissing technique?"

"Not as confident," I snickered. "But yes, I think so."

The professor smiled at both of us. "Don't get carried away, you two. You have an audience. Please...enlighten us." He took the microphone away and the whispers in the lecture hall faded away. As the professor backed up to give us comfortable space Jeremy and I locked gazes. I stepped up to him again, pressing my body against his, and as I met his glorious eyes I made a miniscule head nod just for him.

Just like before, one of his hands locked the back of my hair, but his grip was tighter. The other went to my waist and grasped me closer. I obeyed and the tug in my chest lifted me to my tiptoes. I tilted my head to the right and closed my eyes just in time for Jeremy to dip effortlessly and seal my mouth with his.

The heat of his mouth returned furiously, and the taste traveled across my tongue and all the way up into my nose. Exquisite rapture. His lips were just as soft, but there was eagerness and urgency to them that wasn't there before. It melted me, made me willing putty in his arms. My hands flew to the back of his neck, my fingers knotting through his sexy curls.

He opened my lips with his and I felt the tip of his tongue line gently on my bottom lip. I couldn't take not tasting him anymore—I wanted to greet him, say hello in my own way. My tongue flicked against his, and is if being awoken to my presence, it lifted and then meshed against mine. Our tongues hugged and knotted for a brief second before I withdrew, traced the underside of his tongue with the tip of mine and then his bottom lip.

When our tongues backed away for a brief second, our lips swayed to the rigorous tempo. I thought the kiss was going to stop—even though I begged for it not to, I'd only gotten the briefest true taste of him—but he didn't. His hands gripping my neck and waist squeezed tighter and crushed me into him. I could feel every line of his toned body through his jacket and shirt. I could feel the rapid pounding of his heart in his chest. He was just as crazy into this as I was. His mouth opened again and sucked me into another crazy episode of tongue-teasing, where he knotted against me, lush velvet and yet so relentlessly strong against mine, morphing me into shapes I never knew could bring such pleasure.

The true kicker was when he flicked under my tongue several times back and forth, longer and faster each time, and I literally had to choke back the moan in my throat.

Somebody cleared their throat and there was a low rumbling of chuckles.

Jeremy and I seemed to come to awareness at the same time—we disengaged, slow enough to relish in a few last tastes of pure fire, but fast enough so that we weren't tempted to go back for more. As soon as his lips separated from mine I gasped in a breath, realizing the world spun very fast, and then took a dizzying step back. Our hands dropped, but our eyes didn't. I'm sure the fire in my eye, the dazzled look, was just as surprised and awed as his. He panted through his parted mouth for a second, his eyes scanning my face, my lips, back to my eyes, then quickly down my body before he closed his mouth and shook his head. He seemed to shake away the effects.

I attempted to do the same, but the room wouldn't stop spinning.

I refocused on looking elsewhere and I saw that girl in the front row mouth wow! and several over people whispering feverishly and excitedly. The professor clapped absently.

"Well done, you two. That was a spectacular performance, and I appreciate your willingness to share that with us. Your torture is over—you can return to your seats now."

Dazed, I watched Jeremy stroll off stage and head to the back of the classroom and to his chair. I went in the opposite direction and nearly fell in my seat. Everyone nearby stared at me and I busied myself with my notebook, pretending I suddenly remembered something urgent to write in my planner.

What I really did was scramble for my phone and started to play Solitaire, refusing to look up for the remainder of the lecture. During that time, I tried not to replay that kiss at the front of the room over and over again but failed. I tried not to think of ways I could go up to Jeremy after class and ask for his number or wonder where the hell he learned to kiss like that. I tried not to rethink of the flawless planes of his face, the way his lips felt against mine, his cologne or taste of his skin and tongue, the slamming of his heart right up against mine, but this I failed, too.

When class was dismissed, I gathered my stuff and was the first out of the hall. I was planning on ditching the rest of the day, seeing as I was so mentally distracted it wouldn't do me any good to show up anywhere now besides home. I wanted time to process what happened—the fire, the embarrassment, the everything.

I didn't get the escape I hoped for. "Alina!" I recognized the bass voice and flinched at the summersault my heart performed and then whirled around to see Jeremy racing out of the lecture hall, his eyes probing mine as he closed the distance between us. He had a simple black side bag but that was all that had changed about him.

The people from our class watched us curiously but I ignored them.

"Hey," I mumbled. I didn't know what else to say to him, so I'm glad he broke the silence.

"Could I speak to you alone for a moment?"

I nodded and followed him into a cubby hole around the corner. He closed the door behind us and the chaos of the building outside drowned out. Nobody would be able to hear us. Jeremy didn't give me a chance to feel awkward we were suddenly alone after what happened—he immediately faced me and regarded me seriously through intense blue eyes.