My name is T and was a student. The second guy or man in this case I was with since my time with Chip.
I noticed the professor during my first day of summer semester at FLC. When I got to class and the professor was there and hard to stop looking at. He wasn't what you called attractive. He was a rangy rawboned 6'4" or so with rough chiseled features, black shaggy hair, but he had a nice bulge that was held by his tight pants. Now I know why the girls were lusting after him.
He shuffled into the classroom stood in front of the class and stared at me with a grim stare. He than started by saying, "My name is Dr Larry Hartsfield and call me Dr Hartsfield not Larry or Doc." Dr Hartsfield explained the content of Early American Literature course. He saw that I was not a happy camper because of course load. Dr Hartsfield expected I was going to ask to be dropped but instead several other students did ask to be dropped.
For the next week I attended his class religiously, always taking the same front seat. Taking notes on what Dr Hartsfield talked about like "Bradstreet: The Prologue and The Author to Her Book."
At the end of the second week couldn't believe time went by. After class I approached Dr Hartsfield, "Ah Dr Hartsfield?"
"Yes? What can I do for you?"
"I...ah...don't know. Probably nothing but I...I just don't understand the language or what I am reading. Maybe I should drop but I need for my major."
"Well it's a little early to come to that conclusion, isn't it?"
"It's just...I...well old English writing and I never got along."
"I see, follow me to Noble Hall to my office and we'll see what the problem is."
We sat on Dr Hartsfield couch for an hour over his coffee table. Dr Hartsfield probed my understanding of the course materials. finally I sat back happy.
"Thanks Dr Hartsfield! I think I've got it now! I really appreciate your help."
As Dr Hartsfield leaned back on the couch. I saw his crotch and almost gasped aloud at the sight of the long fat bulge outlined down the pant leg.
I couldn't immediately tear my eyes away and he caught me staring.
I felt color creep down my face as I force myself to look into his eyes. As Dr Hartsfield got to his feet, "Ah, you're welcome T." I thought to myself, "Damn! You better get a hold of yourself. All you need now is a reputation for coming on to college professors." As I walked out into the hall,
"Uh, Dr Hartsfield? Uh can I come see you again if I get stuck?"
"Well, if you really get stuck."
I walked back to my campus apartment Anasazi. I sank into my bed with images of professor Dr Hartsfield's cock in my mind. A vision of what it might look like naked played in my daydreams. How it would feel in the palm of my hands. The strange thing is I was certain the horny professor Dr Hartsfield would let me drool over his hard thick cock in exchange for a good grade. BUT I couldn't and don't think he can be trusted to keep his mouth shut. So I told myself not to be a damn fool and shook away the thoughts.
During the remainder of summer semester Dr Hartsfield and I met several more times in his office. I acted formally but Dr Hartsfield became increasingly open and relaxed. He would put his hands on my shoulder as he always walk me out. I always try to keep my eyes above his waist but I was never successful at it. In his office he always catches me looking and often spread his legs to give me a better view, or he would grope himself breifly.
On our last meeting he wriggled on the couch pawing at his crotch repeatedly looking at me.
"Damn underwear is pinching my balls. You ever have that problem, T?"
I tried to control my voice, I trembled my answer,
"Sometimes sure. Every guy does."
