A collective groan rose from the auditorium as Dr. Smith finished her lecture. Dana always enjoyed this class, well, watching the tall professor anyway. Helen Smith was the kind of woman everyone gave a second look too. Dana suspected many people took that second look and wondered why they did so, and then moved on without more than a brief curiosity. Most would probably content themselves with noting she was abnormally tall; that had been Dana's first impression.
In contrast to the tall professor, almost no one ever gave Dana a second glance. She was short, big-boned and compactly built, with hardly any bust and a rugged face. A tomboy all her life, she had only discovered her budding sexuality when she arrived at Mt. St. Clair College. She was a butch lesbian; at least, she wanted to be one, like her best friend Roz. Thus far her experience amounted to two one night stands, with girls her own age, neither of which had been very fulfilling. She was really attracted to more mature women and the stunning professor had become her secret obsession.
Over the last three semesters she had taken four classes with Dr. Smith. That hadn't been by any design at first, simply that she was majoring in Secondary Ed and the core called for twenty-four credit hours across the liberal arts curriculum. All of the advanced courses were filled with juniors and seniors well before she was allowed to register. Her faculty adviser had urged her to take her core courses while she was too junior to get into the ones she needed for her major.
Dr. Smith was an early riser, offering one of only a handful of sections that met at 7:00 in the morning. Since no one in their right mind wanted to be up that early, there were always openings in that section. The morning courses fit Dana's lifestyle, so she had seen quite a bit of the tall professor. Over time, she had noticed a lot about the woman that she suspected others rarely saw.
She was always demure, her clothing impeccably fitted, but highly conservative. Mostly business dress suits in dark colors or tweeds. She always wore black stockings; not pantyhose, but stockings. Dana was sure of this because she always sat in the front row and on rare, but much anticipated, occasions the Professor would stand on tip toe to write or correct something on the board. Dana had taken to slouching in her seat, because from the low point she could occasionally catch a flash of stocking tops and garter clips if the Prof had on a suitably short skirt. She often wore a slip which would frustrate the young woman, but even a glimpse of that was nice.
She also always wore heels, not the thick, clunky, ugly kind that were in vogue with the girls on campus, but very feminine, thin heeled pumps. In the time she had been paying attention, the professor had never worn open toed heels or flats. Dana had also noticed other things that she thought probably escaped the casual observer.
In the first place the Doctor was stacked. The conservative cuts of her clothing seemed calculated to conceal it. Dana hadn't really noticed until the day the AC was out and halfway through the lecture the Prof had been forced to remove her jacket. Dana felt sure her eyes had nearly popped out of her head. A quick look around the near empty classroom showed her that at least the guys agreed. Dana conservatively guessed the good doctor took at least a D cup, if not a DD. In just the starched white blouse and her skirt, it was also obvious she had what Roz called "birthing hips".
That had started it for her. Dana had studied her professor so carefully only a few questions remained, and those she was unlikely to ever discover the answer to, although she kept an open mind. The campus was extremely liberal and rumors abounded. Dana had noticed that she never saw the tall professor out with men unless it was in a group and that gave her some hope.
"I'm sorry. I know you all have other classes and your time is valuable, but this is a three thousand level course and there is simply no way I could, in good conscience, not require a research paper."
More gripes and groans followed. Dana noticed that Dr. Smith seemed genuinely concerned, which was rare for a professor. Most acted like their assignments were the only ones the students had.
"Oh, come on. It's not that bad. Most of you can knock out a thirty-page paper over a weekend. I'm only requiring nine sources and the subject is totally up to you, provided you can tie it to Tudor or Stewart England."
The bell rang and everyone stampeded towards the exit. Dana took her time, her next class wasn't until noon today, so she headed for the cafeteria to meet up with her friends.
***
"Got it made, got it made, got it made, I'm hot for teacher!" Roz sang.
"Fuck off," Dana responded good naturedly.
"When ya gonna quit staring at her with puppy dog eyes and try to tap that fine ass?" the heavyset black girl asked.
Roz was two years Dana's senior and more or less the leader of their small group of friends. She was butch, brazen and seemed to know no shame. Rumor had it Roz had been expelled from Franciscan after getting caught bedding the rector's wife. Dana knew for certain she was sleeping with at least three of her professors and at least two of her TAs. Not that the big girl needed to, she carried a four-oh with ease. She just lived for the danger and wickedness of it.
"I don't even know if her ass is fine, I've only seen her without a jacket once."
"It's fine. She's one of those top shelf bitches; class through and through. Matter of fact, I might take a class next semester if you don't get a move on."
Angela and Mona both laughed as a shadow crossed Dana's face.
"I'm just picking girl, you know I don't birddog."
"I know, it's just I wish I was more like you sometimes."
"Don't worry about it. It'll come."
Dana nodded and finished her cup of coffee. She stood up and swung her bag over her shoulder. 1. "Aww, don't go, I'm sorry," Roz said.
"I gotta hit the library."
"Everything cool?"
"It's cool. See y'all later."
Dana crossed the barren quad and entered the library, with its imposing neo-classical façade. Inside the illusion of grandeur quickly gave way to boring faux wood and linoleum floors. The building was pretty plain, scarred from years of use and indifference. Most of the staff were athletes on work study, finding one who was even semi-competent was usually more trouble than just digging in and finding something yourself. About once every three years they lost accreditation because the books were not returned properly and finding anything became impossible. That had happened just last semester, so the stacks were in pretty good order now.
Dana had been thinking about her paper. She knew Doctor Smith's specialty was the wives of Henry the eighth. Since she had no strong interest in the period herself, she decided to load up on books about Catherine of Aragon. Of all his wives, Catherine was the only one Dana ever felt any sympathy towards.
Two hours of searching produced a meager collection of books, and not a single biography. The library computer said they had one, but she was unable to locate it. She was about to decide to change her topic when a tall blonde with a name tag walked by. Probably a volleyball player, she thought.
"Excuse me?"
"Yes?"
"I can't seem to locate this book. Do you know if it's still here?"
The girl came around to her terminal and touched the screen, then entered her password.
