It was all in her head. It had to be. Surly those were sidelong glances or a quick wink. He wasn't paying any more attention to her than to any other student. And sure, Summer got good grades, she worked hard, turned things in on time, asked questions, etc. As a college sophomore, she had long since learned the ropes on what made a productive member of the class. And it was a badge she wore proudly. It was nice to be thought of so highly by such intelligent people.
But he was gorgeous. Unlike her other professors, who were largely fine looking but nowhere near attractive, he was a heartthrob. Those blue eyes were what struck her first. They were clear and shining, like the sky after a storm. Then there was the rest of that gorgeous face. Oh, the gentle way his slightly curled hair was brushed to the side, that course and full beard with just a touch of pepper in it, it was all so damn...well. Something.
In the here and now, Summer was at a loss for words. Not her usual MO but the circumstances called for measured responses. He'd caught her in the studio after she'd been told to leave. Not the worst thing in the world to do, she was allowed to work on her paintings whenever, but certainly still a somewhat grey area.
"I'm sorry. I uh. Could you repeat the question? I totally spaced." Not entirely a lie. She'd been lost in his eyes. Based on the way he'd held her gaze, it almost felt like he was undressing her with his eyes. Almost. It made her almost want to collapse to her knees and suck what had to be his delicious cock. Almost.
"I was wondering what your intent was with this piece. I didn't see it much during our class work and wanted to pick your brain." He repeated, nice and slow. Not condescending, but not without a touch of disappointment. If only there was some way to...no. Focus.
"Oh um. This is my uh, my. Well." She turned to show off the half-finished piece. They had been working with dynamic light, so she'd chosen a glass of iced tea in front of a sunset. The amber liquid was an ample subject to study, given the tea itself glowed a little and the shadow it produced mixed the softer light with the earthen tones of the--
"It's good." He claimed. Summer blinked a few times to bring herself back up to speed. Her professor was closer now, enough that she could smell his cologne. A wonderful mixture of cedar wood and pine. Despite herself, her heart fluttered. It had just occurred to her that he was close enough for her to kiss. Close. Enough. To. Kiss.
She leaned forward just a touch. But her rational mind won over, allowing her to correct her potential mistake. That was a bad idea. No question. No student should ever attempt to cross that barrier with her professor. But still...she bit her lip just a little. God damn he was fine.
"Your strokes need a little work, however. Do you mind if I?" He gestured to the painting. Summer blinked. Right. Then handed it over.
"See how you--" And she got lost again. Her professor was a good man. But single. She'd made sure of that. No ring on the finger, and she'd even overheard him talking to her pottery teacher about going on a date but "nothing came of it" the other day. Thank goodness for artists exploring their feelings by leaning on other artists.
Anyway, he had the beard, the eyes. And the fashion. The tasteful fashion of a man that cared. Cable knit sweaters, slacks, braided belts, and loafers were mainstays. And she wanted each one in a puddle on the floor more than anything in the world right now. She'd never seen his body, for obvious reasons, but she was certain the guy was fit. He rode his bike here almost every day after all. She'd seen that much when she passed through the park on the shuttle every afternoon.
"...just do some of that and you should be fine." He finished. She blinked. What? Oh! The painting.
"Thank you very much." Summer blurted. Without hesitation, she just put the painting back. She'd finish it tomorrow. Fine, fine. No problem.
"Excuse me!" The professor shouted. She kept going. No time. What she needed now was, well. Not something she could do in front of other people. "Excuse me! Summer!" And the use of her name made it just a touch too serious. She stopped.
"Yes?" She didn't turn. If she faced him now she'd get all mixed up inside. Not worth it. Instead, she pushed onward and out into the dusk. Her shuttle was already waiting, thank goodness, and Summer headed home without incident. Or seeing whatever it was he wanted.
She could not stop to think about it. She simply couldn't. There was no way to get him out of her head though. Her thoughts began to drift, as did her hand below her waistband, as she considered just what her professor was doing right now. Was he in the shower maybe? That perfect hair stuck to his head, body glistening, nice and wet. Or maybe his hand was down his pants. Maybe he was stroking his cock, face screwed up in pleasure, hands moving quick. Pumping. Groaning. Moaning. Thinking about her? Thinking about sex. Thinking about sliding into her hot--and she bucked. Just a little, but it was good enough for her to need to bite her lip just a touch to keep quiet. Satisfied, Summer let herself drift back into sleep.
The next morning, Summer took inventory of her strengths and weaknesses. For one, she wasn't a bad looking girl. She had a button nose that always seemed cute and while she wasn't quite so curvy, she wasn't flat either. With the right top, which showcased that not so flat chest, and shorts that left a little but not too much to the imagination, were a little on the shorter side she could turn heads. Maybe even his? No.
Instead, she slipped on her usual clothes. Now was not the time to be stepping out. Now was the time for the usual plan: lay low. She slipped on a tee shirt and some shorts. Nothing too sexy. Nothing head turning.
On the shuttle ride to campus, she thought about what she'd say to him. Maybe something about how she'd felt sick? Or something about how her roommate was going to have a party? No. He'd never go for that. Just the sick thing then.
Summer picked her usual seat in the back. Not quite all the way back, people liked looking back there. Instead, just one or two rows before the back was perfect. Able to be glossed over without a second thought. Then she saw her painting had a little note on it.
Hey! Sorry I missed you. Something came up today and I'll need to be out of class today. I still have something to give you though, so meet me at the Green Bean at four. Thanks!
Summer blushed. This wasn't how things worked! Professors, students, anyone, this wasn't how things happened. And yet it was. And yet she found herself loving every second of it. The thrill of taking things closer and closer to the edge was amazing. No one like him had ever given her the time of day like this.
For the rest of the class, Summer's mind was on the Green Bean. The fortunate, or unfortunate depending on how you liked at it, thing was that it was a public coffee shop not too far from campus. Nothing would really happen there. Not without someone from the school seeing it anyway. But each stroke of the brush brought back the moment they were alone. What if she had just...kissed him. Just put her fingers in that thick hair of his, getting a nice grip. He would pull her close, and her chest would press against his. It'd be a perfect moment. One where the two of them could feel all the passions they, or rather she, had been harboring all this time. No judgements.
Just like that it was over. She scrambled through the halls and onto the bus. Her heart raced as fast as her mind. So many reasons not to go. So many things swirling about in the back of her mind. And, oh crap! Her hair was half a mess, she brushed some of it aside with her fingers in an attempt to look presentable. Or at the very least normal. Was this really how she looked all the time?
She wished to God she had a brush. Not that her hair was all that long but. Oh well. Summer sighed. "One must work with what one has." She grumbled.
The coffee shop was already abuzz with the gentle hum of conversation by the time that Summer stepped inside. No one that she knew was there, at least, except.
He looked just as amazing as he did in class. But now, in his personal time, he'd adopted far more casual clothes. A simple tee shirt and shorts. And beneath that tee shirt she could see his mass of muscle. Not much, but certainly enough for her to notice. Her heart skipped a few beats at the thought of brushing her fingers across that chest. But no. This was casual. Simple.
Deep breath. Then she went in.
"Hello Summer." He remarked, that easy smile glowing on his face.
"Hello Professor." She mumbled and tried not to look at him in the eyes for too long. It was just too much.
"I suppose you're wondering why I brought you here." He said. She nodded. "That's good. I'll start by asking you, is it true you're graduating next semester?" Another nod. It'd taken a bit of extra work but she'd managed to do it.
"Then seeing as you're not going to be my student for much longer. Well." Now the smile was less warm. It was steamy. Sultry. Seductive. Her jaw practically dropped to the floor.
"You've got to be kidding!" She blurted, then slapped her hand over her mouth. He just chuckled and shrugged.
"It's all wrong. I know that. But something about you. Those sideways glances, little smiles, the blush you get going whenever I lecture. It's too much." He put his hand on hers. It was soft but his grip was strong.
"I crave you. I need you more than I've...no. Not here. Just. Come with me. If you don't want to I can--" and she kissed him. This dream was too good to pass up. They kissed quickly, this was public after all, but it did happen. She felt alive. She felt panicked. Her heartbeat had become so loud that she could feel it slam against her chest.
"I can't. I can't. I can't." She thought.
