***This is the second story of this series. It is recommended to read Unexpected Anticipation prior to or along side this point of view***
Practicing self-control has never been my strongest suit - I mean, even my mother says I can't keep my hand out of the fucking cookie jar. But this time? Yeah, I've definitely done it this time, and I can't say I regret it at all.
Being a professor at one of the most sought-after universities this side of the coast, I see an unfair amount of the young and naïve come into my lecture hall. It would be inhuman for me to lie and say I don't notice those who are brighter, more interesting, or more attractive than others. As an educator, however, I must distance myself to avoid any scandals or rumors. Social media is such a wild fire that the risks start to outweigh the rewards.
That is not to say that I haven't had opportunities -- young boys too eager to talk to me, sitting at the front of the hall and watching me; not even bothering to look like they're taking notes. They don't entice me, they're easy to ignore - similarly to the way that a spider rests in the corner of a room, you're aware of it for just a moment but suddenly it becomes less than a worry. Even the women who walk through my doors with they're short skirts, big hair, they're makeup; they hardly leave anything to the imagination.
Then she had to walk into my advanced English class; a class whose occupancy is maxed at 30 but even at that it is never full. The first thing I noticed was the shape of her eyes, of all things. I was standing at my podium writing small notes to assist in my first day lesson plan when she spoke to me for the first time.
"I hope you don't mind that I'm early," I looked up to see that her hands were full of folders overflowing with papers. She looked so disorganized.
I made it a habit not to study my student's appearances, but her eyes caught me off guard, and I wasn't used to being caught off guard. On her face rested a pair of big, honey-colored sunsets with glimpses of campfire and gold shimmering behind them. I felt such an intense draw to them that I had to fight to look away. It took me more than a beat to respond as I fought to regain my composure.
"You're in 12:45 A.P. English Lang?" I tapped my pen against my lip.
"Yes ma'am."
I scoffed unconsciously, "Call me Dr. Redding, please," I hated being called ma'am.
"Sorry ma- I mean, Dr. Redding," She smiled a cute nervous smile but didn't move.
"You're more than welcome to stay, though class doesn't start for another 30 minutes."
I half expected her to say she'd come back later, but to my surprise she gave me a slight nod and sat at the desk closest to my podium. She pulled out a laptop but didn't open it, set some papers to her left and started writing.
Hmm, she's left-handed, I thought.
I watched her another moment before turning back to my lesson plan. My head down I asked, "And what may I call you? I can go ahead and mark you present for roll."
"Lesia, Lesia Adande," She sounded very James-Bond-Formal, and it pushed me to look back at her. The expression she wore was almost stoic.
"You're the first student on my roster. Your name is very different, do you know where it's from?"
"My father is Caribbean," She gave a shrug, letting that be enough of an explanation, and I took it as such.
She returned her attention to her note taking, giving me an opportunity to take consideration of her. I felt as though I was spying on her, but the longer I looked at her the more of her I wanted to see.
Her honey-colored eyes were set against warm dark skin with darker freckles dancing across her face. Her cheek bones were high and perfect, and her lips were plump -- even set in the hard line they were as she focused on her scribbling. Her hair looked like it had been recently cut to shoulder length, her curls perfect and smooth with a hard stop at the ends. She was notably a small thing, though one would hardly be able tell with the baggy sweater and jeans she chose to wear. She looked like she went out of her way to be the type of person you wouldn't think to look twice at. Smart. Go unnoticed, avoid attention, finish school.
Only, I noticed her.
It felt like hours had passed before I spoke again.
"It is definitely unique, Ms. Lesia," I commented before turning back to my podium.
And that was it. The first day I'd met her. I still find myself stunned by thought as I replay each moment over and over I my mind -- like a fever dream I've wished someone recorded for me to experience a second and a third time.
Over the course of our first semester, I felt myself paying extra attention to her; the way she'd walk into my classroom, the way she kept to herself but smiled kindly at anyone who'd passed by her -- even if they didn't deserve it and people seldom deserved her warmth. She was a refreshing fixture that I guiltily found myself looking forward to.
I hate to recall, but one day in March when the weather was just a little too warm, she'd traded her sweater and jeans for a simple sundress. The dress was light blue with small white swirls on it, and she'd worn the most innocent white heels and white handbag to accompany it.
With confidence, she walked down the lecture hall stairs -- early as she always was -- and sat in her regular seat closest to me. I hadn't meant to, but I was watching her every move step as though I was hoping she'd stumble and so I could catch her. Luckily, she hadn't noticed me.
When she was settled, I quietly cleared my throat and finally spoke.
"Good afternoon, Lesia," I forced my voice to sound neutral.
She looked from her stream of noted paper to me with a welcoming smile on her face.
"Hello, Dr. Redding! How are you today?"
We'd do this every time we'd see each other, Mondays and Wednesdays.
"I'm doing well, and yourself?" My voice faltered just enough to sound excited, but I quickly regained myself.
"Spectacular!" She almost squealed.
That was one of the reasons I genuinely enjoyed having her in my class. Where one would use a word like 'great' or 'fine' she would use words like 'spectacular', 'tremendous', or 'engulfing.
"Spectacular? Do you have big plans?" I was slightly amused, a small smile threatening to cross my face.
"Well, someone asked me to coffee yesterday and I think it went very well! I'm going to lunch with him today, which is why I'm wearing this," she gave a half-hearted gesture to her dress.
An odd feeling bubbled up my throat knocking me almost breathless. I looked at Lesia -- excitement still claiming her face - and forced myself to respond.
"Well, your dress is very lovely," I heard the annoyance in my voice, but couldn't figure out why.
Lesia didn't seem to notice the sour shift to my mood, and if she did it didn't affect hers one bit.
"You really think so, Doctor?"
She stood and smoothed the dress into place, stepping from the desk to give me a full view.
The fabric stopped just above her knees and her warm, brown legs looked smooth and perfect; I could see the muscle threatening to make a presence as she moved. The skin on her shoulders was decorated with freckles that not only matched her face but outshined it. Her curls were pulled back into a lazy ponytail that made her look more exotic showing her strong jawline. She was a small thing, yes, but much fuller than I'd assumed. Her jean and sweater ensemble did her so little justice.
I recognized want pulsing from my clit and had to fight myself not to let it show on my face.
"Yes," I finally responded, "I know your date will love it." I gave her a smile that I couldn't force to touch my eyes.
"I really do hope so," She let out a nervous have chuckle just as a few other students filed into class, and returned to her seat.
I taught a distant lesson that session. I took very few questions and tried not to look Lesia's way. Of course, I couldn't help myself -- self-control and all. I stole a glance to see she held the drink she must have pulled from her handbag at some point. She was absentmindedly playing with the straw of her drink with her tongue as she took what seemed to be detailed notes, and mentally winced at the subconscious thought, I wish that were me.
I ended the lesson early and watched a still-perky Lesia almost skip out the door with a quick wave goodbye. An accidental snort left my throat just as one of my other female students accompanied by who I assumed to be her boyfriend stood before me.
"Hey, Dr. Redding! Do you have a second?"
I shook my mental strife and looked down at her. Being 5'9 without heels I usually looked down on my students, and rarely do I not wear heels.
Karen -- whose name I remember because it makes me chuckle silently to myself -- stood patiently with her 'alpha' male's arm thrown around her.
Animals, men are such animals, I thought.
"Of course, Karen. What can I do for you?" I leaned over my podium and lowered my eyes to meet hers.
Her protective entourage glanced down my low buttoned shirt and tried -- but failed -- to pretend he wasn't trying to look at my breasts.
I knew I was exceptionally pretty, though I try not to abuse the power my looks can have over other people. There's something to be said there about wanting to be known for my intelligence and not my looks, but this story isn't' about that right now.
No, this moment, however, was different. I paid little attention to the boy or his glances, looking mainly at Karen.
"I'm going to be out of town for a long weekend, so I'll miss class on Monday. Is there any way you could email me the lesson or anywhere online I may be able to access it?" Karen attempted to make stern eye contact with me, but I caught quickly that she would glance at my lips between words.
