Disclaimers: This is set in a Community College. crystalv provided ideas and some of the original text. This story was hammered out while I was drunk, and the editing and checking it came later. The quality of the writing is on me, the quality of the situation is on crystalv.
The only sound is his black pen putting check marks and little comments like "good point", followed by the sound of a red pen correcting grammar, and writing other comments like "What are you trying to say?". Here he is yet again, sitting alone in his office, feeling a lock of brown hair here or there getting in front of his glasses. His collar thankfully keeps his lanyard and keys from rubbing against his neck, the perks of a buttoned up shirt that is starting to feel like it fits him a little too tight. It's not too hot, quite the opposite, and so he's glad his dark blue dinner jacket is still on him.
There is the sound of a knock at his door. "Come in," he says, using the teacher voice. There is the sound of the door opening, squeaking as it opens, and then the sound of it being closed shut.
It's one of his better-behaved students. At first he almost doesn't recognize her, it's always a surprise when one of the more modest women decides it's time to dress like her fellow students. Her leggings are molded around her legs, the same fashion trends of the pre graduates at this community college. Ah... This sentence is a bit wordy... Red pen time... Okay and what was her top? How bad could it possibly be?
Tank top, completely reveals the arms and shoulders, and it rides high too, revealing her midriff. He almost rolls his eyes at the sight of it, deciding to focus on checking this sheet he's working on again. Tank tops and leggings, her naval is exposed. He remembered when the trend was those skinny jeans that he swore were different from the ones people wore back in his day, and he was right because when he looked them up he found out those "high rise jeans", were some kind conspiracy to make women's asses look bigger.
This argument isn't true... Where the fuck did the student get this information? Red Pen... This student is not getting a C on this paper...
"So... What brings you into the office?"
"O-Oh..." she says. "Well... I was just checking up on you... In case you need something... I saw the light on indicating you were still in your office."
Hmm, normally she doesn't look at the floor. A bit odd.
"I'm good... But thank you for your kind offer," he looks up at her for a second and flashs a warm smile. He then remembers something. "Actually, I'm needing some coffee.... Could you help with that?"
"Sure!" Hmmm, she seems cheerful now, instead of that shyness just a few seconds ago. "There is a coffee machine over here... Want me to make you a cup of coffee now?"
"Yawn....." It's not just that 2:30 feeling, it's literally 6:30 on a Friday. Five hour energy was a scam, more like four hour energy. "Yeah, actually would be pretty good.... I think I keep some nondairy creamer in the drawer over there."
His finger points over to the drawers under the counter the coffee machine, coffee grounds, and cups are kept on.
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She walked over to the counter and bent over to look for it, her curvy ass pointing out at him as she looked around for the creamer.
After a while he still hears her looking for it. She's not looking in the correct drawer.
Neither of them has noticed how lewd she currently looks, with how her leggings fit her tightly. Her current position is closer to an instragram model than a early 20s woman trying to finish her education.
"I can't find it, Sir."
Sir? After over a decade of being called Sir, he almost smiled each time he heard it. That was why he didn't notice how her hips swung side to side as she checked in this drawer and that drawer, but never the right one. Grumbling, he gets up and goes over to her. His side and arm brushes against her arm and thigh.
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She looks at what his finger is pointed at, revealing her face is just inches from his crotch. "I'm so sorry Sir."
She had never realized how hung he was, but maybe it was there for her to see this whole time and she never looked.
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He grumbles because bending over like this with his belt causes his "weapon" to be crushed between his body and pants. This is the cost of wearing slacks tailored for you, with a shirt tucked in and a belt over it all. He decides to switch to bending his knees instead, a much better idea, before he points back at the right shelf.
"I tugged on the drawers right and left of that one, and they didn't move...." She says. She seems surprised that is the correct drawer.
He rolls his eyes and stands up, before turning to back to his chair, not even noticing that his hips rubbed against her shoulder on the turn.
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She pulls out the drawer and it slides right open. "Here is Sir~" It's so funny that she checked all the wrong drawers.
His beautiful hazel eyes look back at her, seeming fairly tried and worn down by such a long day at work. Her body feels like she just had a cup of coffee herself, her skin warming up and her heart racing.
He raises an eyebrow. "Well, make the coffee if you will? Two table spoons of non dairy."
"Yes Sir," she says. "Sorry Sir."
She begins to hurry making the coffee like how he said. The water tank is filled up from a sink, then she puts the measuring cup full of grounds in the machine. The plastic cover is closed shut and she clicks the button. While she is waiting, she decides to see what he is doing.
He's still there, with his desk covered in papers, pulling them out of a folder one at a time. Her eyes look up at his Master's degree, his awards in his field, his awards for getting on the Dean's List when he was around his age. She knew when she came to this city to go to this community college, far from her home town, she didn't imagine that someone so qualified would be teaching her.
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For some reason she is not being very rational, which is a bit odd for her. Normally he'd quietly be mad at her, especially without his late coffee and all these papers to grade. However, it's hard to be mean to someone who calls him "Sir".
Soon he had a mild breakfast blend infront of him, which appeared to be made exactly as he asked. He blew on it and then gave it a little sip.
"Thank you." She doesn't appear to be wearing her name tag. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry, you don't wear a name tag in class and I don't call on your name when I call on you.... What is your name?"
This is what happens when you take on additional classes because they ask you nicely. You don't know enough names and you're busy on a Friday night.
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"I'm Crystal Sir."
She looked up to him before, but now she adores him...and yet he has no idea what her name is.
"Right..." he says. "Crystal... is it spelled with a C or a K? We have a student whose name is spelled with a K and one with a C."
He sits there drinking his coffee and looking over his papers.
"With a C, Sir."
If only he would ask her to do something else... Perhaps to come closer...
His eyes are right on her and he looks confused. "Um... Is there...A reason you are standing there?"
Wow, he really seems uptight. His coffee doesn't seem to make him seem that much calmer. She had no idea he had so much work to do.
"Can I do anything for you?" She asks. "Maybe a massage?
