Women have had different opinions of what makes the ideal man. Some prefer the "tall, dark, and handsome" classic; others are attracted to everything from blond surfers types with athletic bodies to mature "silver foxes," offering the potential for stability, muscular bodybuilders, and eye-catching ethnic men, just to name a few.
Contrary to popular belief, there are some women also attracted to nerdy types and bald guys. We all have preferences, and that's okay.
Me? I love gingers. Deep auburn, gleaming copper, all-out flaming red, strawberry blond; it doesn't matter. Nothing gets me hot like a well-built, humorous, ambitious, intelligent ginger with a great smile, nice ass, and knows how to please women both in and out of bed.
My preference for gingers started I took a required class with Professor Gabriel Marlin in my senior year of college. Prior to meeting him, I casually hooked up with a few other guys, but none of them turned me on enough to warrant additional meetings.
Professor Marlin didn't fall in the category of faculty members considered "hot" by girls on campus. He must have owned a large collection of eyeglasses, since he wore a different pair each day, along with a plain gold wedding band and eccentric tastes in suit/tie combinations.
He was in his mid-thirties, tall - my best guess 6'1-6'2 - around 200 pounds with a nice build, thatch of wavy light auburn hair, and matching facial scruff. When Professor Marlin removed his jacket during class one afternoon, I bit my lip to prevent gasping at the sight of his perfect ass.
"What waste of a great body," one of my two roommates, Darla, said. "With that old man face, I bet the only way he and his wife fuck is when she gets drunk and puts a bag over his head."
"Mrs. Marlin's gorgeous," my other roommate Abby replied. "She could've done better, but I guess his family being rich helped."
Darla nodded in agreement. "Yeah, she does come across as a gold digger which may explain staying in the picture despite the way he looks."
I couldn't understand why they made fun of Professor Marlin; granted he wasn't movie star handsome with a slightly off-center, prominent nose, rarely showing teeth when he smiled, ears that stuck out a little, and what Darla described as "scary red hair," but he certainly wasn't homely from my point of view.
Maybe I was just drawn to guys with less conventional "cookie cutter" appearances. Many good-looking guys in my class put me off with arrogant attitudes, some plain stupid ("himbos" as Abby called them) and had no firm plans beyond more partying after college.
Both Professor Marlin and the class were difficult, but I sensed a kind and compassionate demeanor beneath his steel-tough surface when he'd flash an occasional smile in my direction or I'd catch him staring at my chest on the sly.
He liked me for some reason; perhaps because I was one of few students that showed up for class, completed projects, paid attention during lectures, and met assignment deadlines.
I still struggled, barely hanging on to a passing grade in spite of all my hard work. Failing my latest midterm made things worse, but I couldn't drop the class since it was required to receive my degree.
Things took a turn one afternoon when Darla relayed a message from the bathroom door's other side while I took a shower. "Holly, Old Man Marlin wants to see you at his office in about twenty minutes."
I jumped out the shower and grabbed a towel. "Shit! I barely got back from another class and now I have to drive back to campus."
"He sounded serious. You better hurry, girl."
I threw on clothes, not noticing what I wore. "Yeah, I'm already on the edge of altogether failing his class. I should ask to do extra credit."
"Old Man Marlin doesn't exactly have a record for giving anyone breaks."
"I can at least give it a shot. I don't have much left to lose."
"Good luck."
"Thanks. God knows I need it right now."
***********************
I hurried from the apartment and barely arrived on campus before realizing I'd forgotten to put on a bra in haste to make my meeting on time.
Returning home to change would've made me late, and Professor Marlin looked upon tardiness with disfavor. I had no choice but to remain braless and prayed no one else noticed, not an easy feat for women with larger breasts.
Professor Marlin's office door was ajar and I softly tapped on it. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
He looked up and nodded. "Holly, glad you got my message. Close and lock the door. Have a seat."
"One of my roommates said it was important."
"Yes, I'd like to discuss your recent grades. At least a C average has to be maintained in order to receive appropriate credit toward your degree."
"I know, and failing the midterm didn't help matters on my part."
He emerged from behind his desk and sat across from me. "It's refreshing when a student accepts responsibility for their actions. However, you could be placed on academic probation if the current trend continues. I'd like to help avoid that much as possible."
"Oh...thank you."
He placed a hand on my knee with a reassuring smile. "Holly, there would be no problem with me having another student placed on academic probation, but your situation doesn't come from lack of effort. I noticed you work hard, have perfect attendance in my class, and yet to miss an assignment deadline. What's wrong? Are you having conflicts with your roommates?"
"No, sir. Darla, Abby, and I get along great."
