Dr. Theodore Andrews straightened his tie as he stood in front of the empty room. The students had not yet begun to arrive, but he knew they would be there soon. He had been teaching for years, and none of his classes had ever really been quite the same as the one before. Generally, he ended up with upperclassmen taking the class because it satisfied one last requirement and had the reputation for being a blow-off class. Their disinterest was the only common thread from year to year, but he prided himself on his ability to suck everyone in with his enthusiasm.
The first student arrived and looked around the room before slowly making her way to the front. She probably felt obligated to do so, he found himself thinking. He figured it would be best if he looked away, so as to keep from making her uncomfortable, but as she descended the auditorium-style seating, he couldn't. She was wearing a dark blue sweater with a rather deep v-neck, with a lacy tank top peeking out, to keep her "decent". Though not particularly large, her young breasts moved enticingly as she approached him, her rounded hips accented by the tight jeans she was wearing. Her eyes were large and innocent, a brown or dark green, partly hidden under side swept bangs. She met his gaze and smiled shyly as she sat in the front row, just a few feet away from him. He returned the smile, hoping it read more as "welcoming educator" than "lecherous old man." She tucked her chocolate-brown hair behind her ear and pulled out a notebook.
"Are you looking forward to this class?" He just couldn't leave her alone. She looked up, maybe surprised that he was speaking to her, then smiled. Her lips were a soft pink, with a perfectly-shaped cupid's bow.
"I am," she answered with a nod. "I was really excited to see that there were still openings in this section, too. I've heard that you're the professor to have."
Yeah, probably because he was so easy or something. He fought back a chuckle and cleared his throat, leaning against his desk. "So what year are you?"
"I'm a sophomore." She seemed to cringe a little. "Is that okay? Someone told me that this class is usually reserved for seniors." He watched her lower her eyes along his body and suddenly became aware of the fact that his dick was growing just slightly hard. Maybe it wasn't noticeable yet. He stood up, moved around behind his desk, just in case. Right. She'd asked a question.
"No, that's fine. As long as you have the required classes, which I assume that you do, since otherwise you wouldn't have been able to register in the first place, then you are welcome here, my dear." It slipped out purely by accident, but he decided that he'd better stop talking before he got himself into trouble. More students began to file in, and, thankfully, his erection went away in time to face them.
That night, with his wife, he found himself imagining that her eyes were a greenish-brown as he fucked her.
A few weeks later, Dr. Andrews sat in his office, grading papers. No one ever came to see him during office hours, anyway: might as well get something done. After a while, he heard a gentle tapping on the doorway and looked up. It was the girl. Cassie Locke. His blood surged through his veins, and he decided against rising to greet her. She was wearing a thin cotton dress with a hem that fell just above her knees. Her calves were small but shapely, and he itched to smooth his palm along her leg. She was wearing a small cardigan perhaps in acknowledgment that it was October now, and beginning to get cold.
"How may I help you, Miss Locke?" If this were any other student, he might imagine that she was here to perhaps trade a blow job for a few extra percentage points, but not only was it far too early in the year for that, she was also one of the best students in her class. Still, he couldn't kelp imagining her innocent little mouth wrapped around his cock under the desk, and had to shift in his seat. His pants were growing uncomfortable. She was still hovering in the doorway, looking unsure. "Please take a seat." She obeyed and, as she sat, leaned forward to place her bag on the floor. This treated him to a glance of the pale skin that was usually hidden from sight, and he licked his lips. When she sat back, she continued fidgeting. "You're not here to tell me that you've been cheating or anything, are you, Miss Locke?" He highly doubted that, but with the way she was acting...
"No!" She answered vehemently. "No. I do not plagiarize, and I do not cheat." She lowered her voice, but met his eyes. "I promise." She looked away and sank her teeth into her lower lip. He wanted to smooth his tongue along that very lip, maybe press a kiss or two there. Dammit, Ted. Stop it. She is a student. "But...I think I'm going to have to withdraw from the course." The idea clearly pained her.
"Why? You're doing very well! I've just finished grading your paper. You have a few shaky points, but other than that, it's a very solid paper, very well-written. And you know that it's too late to get any of your money refunded."
She nodded miserably. "I know. And it's not my grades."
He wished she would just spit it out already. Her perfume was drifting over to his nose, and it was extremely distracting. He looked up at her, and realized that she...well, she appeared to be cold. Her nipples were clearly puckered, little buds pressing against her dress. She seemed to notice too, and pulled her sweater more tightly around herself.
"So what is it, then?" You know I'm willing to work with students as much as I can. Is everything okay at home?"
"It's fine," she replied. "Ugh, I feel so stupid." She rose, then stooped to pick up her bag. Was it just his imagination, or did her dress just slip down and show him a hint of nipple? "I can't come to class anymore, because I can't pay attention. I just sit there, and then I have to borrow someone's notes every week, and I just can't do it anymore." Her cheeks were a dark pink, and her eyes bright and watery. "And I know you're going to ask. So what's distracting me? The short answer, Dr. Andrews, is that you are." She moved towards the door, but froze when he spoke up.
"What's the long story, Miss Locke? What, specifically, is distracting you?" He watched her shoulders slump, her head bow. Then her hand slipped off of the doorknob. "I ask because dealing with things like this is part of being an adult. For example..." He was taking his career into his hands here, but couldn't stop himself. "Do you know how distracted I am by the urge to bend you over my desk right now?"
The room was silent. He had done it. She would file a complaint. He would be fired, lose his house, lose his wife, lose everything that he had worked so hard to get. Slowly, though, she turned and though her face was still flushed, she was no longer teary. He cleared his throat.
"But...that wouldn't happen, Miss Locke, because I am an adult and a professional."
She said nothing, but she did lock the office door and lower the blinds. Maybe he wouldn't lose everything? She approached him slowly, deliberately, dropping her bag into the chair and cautiously peeling off her sweater. Finally, she stood just a few inches away from him, so close he could see her pulse beating wildly in her neck. He could reach out and touch her, let his hands glide along her waist. "Why can't it happen?" She finally asked, and sank to her knees next to him, tucking her fingers under his belt.
Shocked, he couldn't find the words to stop her, even as her small fingers unfastened his belt. Between the glimpses she'd been teasing him with and this development in the situation, he was approaching rock hard, and he was sure she could see that. She ran one hand over the front of his pants, along his bulge. At that he grabbed her slender wrists and dragged her rather forcefully up to meet his eyes.
"Miss Locke," he gritted out. "I am your professor. You are my student. I'm a married man: this cannot happen.
She held his gaze. "How else do you think we'll ever get over this fascination with each other?" She pouted a little, but it didn't come across as contrived or sly. She was serious, and her deep eyes drew him in. He stood quickly, and forced her down over his desk. He kept one hand firmly on the back of her neck, but use the other to lift the hem of her dress. No panties. Of course she wore no panties.