Disclaimers:
Mine, don't copy. There'll be love and sex, obviously. Consider this a token of apology for going MIA for so long, but real life has a way of doing that to you. Anyhow, I hope you like it and that it was at least worth the wait. Thanks for reading, and please send your comments to the address in my profile.
You know how much I love them.
***
It was a day like any other day; the sun was shining, the sky was blue, not a cloud in sight. Seems like the best opening for the type of story I'm about to tell, or rather, is it the worst opening? I guess I'll just let you judge for yourselves. I was on my way to campus and it indeed was a day like any other day. I was walking slowly, calmly, a serene, serious look covering my features as I looked at no one in particular. Squinting to keep the strong rays of the sun away as much as possible, I plowed my way through the throngs of people until I reached the entrance to my building.
I study in a really beautiful looking building; it's new and it's surrounded by walls of glass. I just love the light that comes through, bathing everything golden, making you feel all warm and fuzzy even if you don't really feel like going into any of your classes. That morning I had two classes. Both were to be with favorite teachers. What can I say, I'm your ultimate geek -- a geek that knows how to strut her stuff, that is. I love and adore all my teachers, but there is one that I'm especially attached to. Now she is a special case. You see, our story started quite a while ago. I've known her for several years and we've developed a somewhat special relationship, for a lack of a better description. I'm starting my story much later, however, since this is a point when things started to get...well...interesting.
So, like I've said, I reached the building, walked into the elevator and waited. The quiet ding of the elevator spurred me back into action as I exited and walked right, toward my class. My very first lesson for that day was to be with...you guessed it, favorite teacher number one. Yes, I was taking another class with her, to top the seven hundred others I've already taken with her over the years, and I was anxiously waiting. You're probably wondering why I was anxious. Well, you see, the problem is this: yes, I had a very special relationship with her, but then again, I never told you what special actually means. I could have meant she was treating me like I was mentally retarded, which wasn't completely far from the truth on certain occasions, and you wouldn't have been the wiser. But I'm digressing. In special, I mean that we had an understanding. I never spoke up or participated in her classes, and she left well enough alone. She would then give me a fairly good grade and we'd all be friends.
But the case had to become more complicated, otherwise I wouldn't have had a story to tell. This teacher of mine, well, she's quite attractive. Well, more than attractive, to be honest. Ok, so she's fucking beautiful. She's got long blonde hair, sexy blue eyes and yes I know, I'm obsessed and I'm probably biased as all hell, but you haven't seen nothing yet.
She's always treated me kindly, always seemed to have a ready smile for me, until lately. Something happened to her; perhaps a new position at work got her all stressed up, perhaps things at home weren't looking all that well, but she was no longer quite herself. She was grumpier, usually pissy and the smallest thing would set her off. She never actually yelled or did anything to that extreme, but I could sense it...we were attuned to each other. Yes, I know I sound like a crazed stalker and no, I'm not one, though I do happen to know where she lives, but that's because she told me, and I'm getting ahead of myself.
Anyhow, recently, due to her change in demeanor, I was starting to dread her classes. I would feel pretty much useless, sitting there in front of her like a moron, without uttering a single syllable. She would never actually say anything to me about it, but I would always be able to feel this tension coming off her like radioactive waves. And they would sting so badly that I would be squirming the entire lesson through. You might be wondering why I didn't leave the course, or better yet, why I didn't actually say anything to appease her?
The answer is fairly easy; I couldn't leave because then she would hate me for an eternity, and I simply couldn't utter a word because I would be completely paralyzed. Every single time I would wish to say something, it would sound so incredibly intelligent and astute in my own mind, but the second it passed my lips, it was the stupidest thing anyone could have ever thought to say. And I never wanted to look like an idiot in front of her. But somehow, for some inexplicable cosmic reason, I always managed to do so.
I'm a fairly funny person when around friends, colleagues but around her I lose myself...I lose my sense of humor, I lose my wit, I literally lose my tongue. I'm also pretty cool around people, but when she comes by, I'm the biggest klutz in the world. It's really very difficult to get a person to like you when you keep acting that way. But then again, I do have my moments, and when they come, I lay on the charm so thick that she literally has to run to the bathroom to wash it off. What do I mean literally? Well, twice when I had a talk with her in the privacy of her office, about some paper or another, the second I finished whatever it was I had to say, she would run, not walk, to the bathroom without glancing behind. I guess I have that effect on women. I try to take it as a compliment. I do have an incredibly sexy voice, if I do say so myself, so who knows what secret powers it holds.
There was another problem though that kind of complicated things further; I mean besides the fact that she was twice my age and my teacher. She was married with kids. I can almost hear the collective sigh. She was attached, to someone else, and she couldn't possibly be interested in me, a woman no less, right? Wrong.
When it comes to her, I have no scruples, especially since I've personally met the hubby. How a woman so beautiful could ever marry a man so NOT is truly beyond me, but again, I'm digressing.
That morning I had to present a work to the class and get comments on it. I thought I did a pretty damn good job, but apparently I was alone in that thought. She wouldn't be so harsh as to tell me I stunk in front of everyone, but she basically said that I reported the exact opposite of what I should have. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. I would vote for crushed, dismantled, torn asunder as though a bullet was ripping a hole in my heart. Over the top? You bet.
When the class was over, I picked up my stuff and left the classroom with a huff, not sparing her a glance. About fifteen minutes later, I was speaking with a friend in one of the offices on our floor, and guess who is knocking at the door? Yes, the evil witch of the west. That's how I felt at the moment, at least.
Nonchalantly, as though she had never broken anyone's heart, she walks into the room, actually winks at me and tells me I did a wonderful job. Stunned, I said, "What?" Intelligent, aren't I?
"Yes, you were great. You had really wonderful ideas." And she situates herself on the desk in front of me.
Playing the fish out of water routine I know so well, I eventually manage, "Thanks." Yes, I know I'm smart, my mom told me so.
After being busy fuming over the whole ordeal for the past fifteen minutes, just as easily, I let it all go and forget. Like nothing happened, I offer, "Would you like some chocolate?" Bribery can get you everywhere.
She eagerly accepted. The very same moment I get knocked in the head by my friend who stares at me accusingly, "And you didn't think to offer me some?"
I grin and shrug, "I was waiting for Sara to come in to offer both of you." Sara is her name, and she allows us to call her that, being doctoral students and all.
Sara returns my smile while looking at my friend, "Yeah, you don't give her grades." She has the ability to be quite coy herself when she wants.
