My Education Ch 01

Chapter 01: A Study in Chemistry

Foreword - story takes place in 1996, before cell phones were in wide spread use. As always, the names have been changed to protect the not so innocent.

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Have you ever heard the story about the person who showed up late for a final exam in college?

Well, I actually did. I didn't oversleep. I didn't goof around. I just did the right thing.

It was a Friday exam, and I hate Friday exams. When exams are scheduled for earlier in the week, you get them all out of the way and you have a couple of extra days of vacation. By Friday, many of your friends are done and are out enjoying the week off. This time though, I didn't mind quite as much because I wanted an "A" in the class. This final exam in Freshman Advanced Chemistry was my last one for the quarter and I really put in the work to make certain I excelled on the final exam. As a Chemical Engineering Major who ultimately wanted to pursue an advanced degree, I wanted nothing less than A's the core classes. The only obstacle here was Professor Grant.

Professor Grant was substituting for another professor who had taken time off to handle a family emergency. At first we were all pretty hyped up because she usually only teaches senior level classes and graduate students. By the end of the second week, everyone wanted out. This woman was a ball-buster who gave not one millimeter of slack. A pretty woman, but a ball buster. She did not tread lightly with grading homework, marking down even the smallest of errors. She even reviewed the grades that her teaching assistants assigned in the labs. All the kids on campus knew she was divorced, and a bunch of people in the class had heard she went through a bitter break-up with her ex-husband a few years before.

I got a solid eight hours of sleep. I got up did a quick 20 minute run around the neighborhood to get the blood flowing and jumped in the shower. After that, I wolfed down breakfast and was on my way to school. There was an accident on the freeway, but after it cleared it was smooth sailing. With a little extra foot on the gas pedal, I should be to school with a few minutes to spare.

As I turned off the freeway, the street was pretty empty. Better still, I was clearly recalling the facts from the night before: chemical equilibrium; properties of gases, liquids, solids, and solutions; atomic and molecular structures. I recall thinking how ready I was for this test when I saw the collision. A white Mercedes S-Class ran a light and due to the speed made a wide turn. In doing so, the driver clipped the side of a red Honda Civic that was in front of me. The Civic was hit hard enough to force it up the curb and into a tree. The Mercedes took off, but I managed to get the first three numbers of the license plate before the car was too far away.

I drove up next to the Civic to see the driver slumped back and the passenger shaking her. Shaking someone who probably has a concussion doesn't make great sense. I turned my car off, hit the hazard lights, and jumped out to see how badly they were hurt. As I approached the car, the extent of the damage was clear. At least one foot of the front end of the car had been demolished by the tree. This vehicle was totaled.

"Are you okay?" I asked after opening the driver side door.

"I'm okay I think," replied the passenger. "Sandra wasn't wearing her seatbelt and she hit the steering wheel pretty hard."

The Civic was a late 80s model that lacked airbags. Sandra had a bloody nose to prove it. The cut above her eye didn't look so good either. The passenger kept shaking Sandra and asking her if she was okay.

"What's your name?" I asked the passenger. I received no reply.

"What ... is ... your ... name?" I asked with in a stern tone.

The passenger just looked at me.

"Your name?"

"Michelle."

"Michelle, it's quite possible that Sandra has a concussion. Can you stop shaking her?"

"Oh God," Michelle whispered as she jerked her hand away from Sandra. "Is she okay?"

I hadn't noticed it before, but both girls were wearing jeans shorts and bikini tops. They must have been going to the beach. By the subtle rising of Sandra's chest, I had to believe she was still breathing. I leaned forward and put my hand next to her mouth. I could feel her breathing. I held her wrist and searched for a pulse. Feeling the subtle beat, I smiled at Michelle.

"She's still breathing and I can feel her pulse. I think she's just unconscious. You two did hit the tree pretty hard."

A look of relief swept over Michelle.

"You stay here and I will go call for help."

"NO! Don't go," shrieked the girl. "Stay. Don't leave."

"Michelle, someone has to call 911 and get an ambulance."

"I'll go flag someone down. We'll get them to call. Please, don't leave. Please," she begged. This girl was on the verge of tears.

"Okay, okay" I sighed. "I'll stay."

I just hoped Professor Grant was having a good day. Earlier this quarter, she locked the doors on her exams and refused two students to enter when they showed up late. I had done well all quarter, and I hoped she would take that into consideration when deciding whether or not to let me in.

While it didn't take very long for a girl in jean shorts and a bikini top to flag down another car, it did take over 30 minutes for the police to arrive. Evidently, there was some confusion about the location. The guy in the car was probably paying more attention to Michelle's cleavage than the situation. I can't say I blame him too much; the girl obviously had great genes. While we waited for emergency services, Michelle kneeled next to me and eventually ended up leaning on me. A large part of me wanted to simply drink her body in, but I was more concerned with Sandra.

I kept Michelle engaged in conversation to keep her occupied. It wasn't any surprise that she easily dominated the conversation, telling me about her plans for Spring Break, her love of college life in San Diego, and a number of other things. We heard some cars stop and Michelle told me two police cars had arrived. One of the officers looked after Sandra, while the other two officers started taking statements. A female officer talked to Michelle aside while a male officer talked to me. I gave a description of the incident as well as the first three numbers of the license plate from the Mercedes. I wanted to leave, but when I turned around I could see that the police had conveniently parked their car in front of mine. 'In for a penny, in for a pound' I guess.

Another ten minutes passed before the ambulance arrived. Michelle climbed into it with Sandra, but not before hugging me and thanking me for staying. I was going to be an hour late for the final and all I had to show for it was a hug. I know I did the right thing, but I had a bad feeling about my test. What's the saying: no good deed goes unpunished.

"That was nice of you to stay."

I turned around to see the female police officer, Officer Coles. Her partner was coordinating with the tow truck that had arrived to collect what used to be a drivable Honda Civic.

"What? Oh yeah. Well, I just hope my professor lets me in late."

"Let's you in late?" the officer inquired.

"I have a final exam that started about 40 minutes ago. She's a real ball bus... She's pretty strict on the rules and isn't known for her leniency. If you don't need me for anything else, I'd like to go try to get into my exam."

"Oh," said the officer. "Maybe I can help. It doesn't seem right that you stay here to help out, and then get punished for it. I can go with you if you like and talk to the professor if she wants to be a ball buster about it."

"That would be great," I said smiling. I didn't want to say anything but I thought it was kind of funny to hear one woman call another one a 'ball buster'.

"Just follow me to the school and then I'll follow you."

Things were beginning to look up I thought as I got in my car. I quickly tucked in behind the patrol car and the police officer had the lights running the entire way to the university. Running the lights certainly made me smile, and I could feel my disposition improving already. I parked my car in student parking, and the officer drove us on to campus, taking the patrol car right up to the chemistry building.

By the time we got to the room, the exam had been going for an hour. As expected, the door was locked. I knocked softly. The door opened just enough for Professor Grant to see me.

"Mr. Rhodes you know I don't tolerate tardiness," she snapped. "Especially when you're over an hour late."

Professor Grant went to close the door, but Officer Coles was quicker. She grabbed the door, pulling it open far enough for Professor Grant to notice her. She looked my teacher dead in the eye and spoke in that tone of voice that only law enforcement personnel seem to know.

"Professor Grant is it. My name is Officer Debra Coles with the Police Department. Your student is late for one reason. He witnessed a hit-and-run accident and pulled over to make certain that everyone was alright. The driver of the car was unconscious and the passenger was shaking her in an attempt to wake her up. You can imagine that shaking someone with a concussion isn't exactly a good thing."

Professor Grant just stood there taking it in.

"At the insistence of the passenger, Mr. Rhodes stayed until emergency services arrived and then provided a detailed account of the incident. As I took the passenger's statements, she wouldn't stop going on about how grateful she was that he stayed with them until we arrived. If one of my daughters was in an accident, I would hope and pray that someone like this young man was there to do such a selfless thing. Now it's up to you, but I'd consider cutting the kid a little slack."

Professor Grant looked at me and told me to go ahead inside. I smiled at Officer Coles and the look on her face told me she knew how grateful I was.

"One more thing Professor Grant," Officer Coles said. She then proceeded to whisper to the professor, but I couldn't hear what was being said because the door had shut.

A few moments later, Professor Grant knocked on the door and I let her in. She went to her desk and handed me a copy of the exam. She looked at me and smiled. There was a kind of softness in her eyes that I can honestly say I would have never thought her capable of. She quietly told me that while another exam was scheduled after this one but that if I needed extra time I could go to her office time was up. I'm glad she did, because the exam was positively brutal. In two hours time, I was barely through two-thirds of the exam.

As I followed Professor Grant to her office, I couldn't help but check her out. We went up two flights of stairs, and she was right in front of me. Professor Grant always dresses in a business formal suit, and today was no exception. Black slacks and a black blazer that covered a white blouse. Normally, we are in a large lecture hall looking down at a chalkboard. In front of that chalkboard is a large table where chemistry labs are demonstrated to students. Between that and her blazer, I don't think I have ever really seen her body from the waist down. But as she took each step, the blazer kept creeping up. By the end of the first landing, I was afforded a perfect view of her perfect ass. And yes, it was perfect: round but not huge; firm but with a nice bounce as she took each step. And when she walked, it rocked side-to-side in that delicious way that just seems to come naturally to a woman wearing heels. In the span of five seconds I went from simply fearing this woman to entertaining a few hundred thoughts of my teacher in various sexual acts as we completed the trip to her office.

Professor's Grant's office was in a new wing that had just been completed earlier this month. The new wing caused quite a stir with some students. A $30 million donation had been giving to the Chemistry department. Half the money was used to build this new wing while the other half was being used to purchase new equipment. The older offices were going to be converted into additional laboratories and classroom. One of the perks of the new offices was that each one had its own bathroom. While the University couldn't arbitrarily decide to pay the professors more, they could provide nicer working spaces for the professors which helped retain some of the more prestigious members.

When we got to her office, I could see that she had been put in one of the larger offices reserved for Senior Faculty. I'd never been to her office before, preferring to go through one of her teaching assistants when I had a question. There was one large desk near the tinted windows at the far side of the room. Another smaller desk was next to the door that we had just come through. Across from that was a large couch. On the near side of the room and opposite the windows was another door, which I assumed was her personal restroom, and two large bookshelves filled with Chemistry volumes. There was something else I noticed. Professor Grant had attained two Doctorate Degrees, a PhD in Chemistry and another in Biochemistry.

"Go ahead and sit there to finish your exam Justin," she told me, indicating the smaller desk.

I sat down while she proceeded to take off her blazer and hang it up. As she walked over to her desk and picked up her phone, I just stared. This woman was stacked. Maybe she dressed to hide it, but without the black blazer to conceal it, a fabulous set of tits could clearly be seen hiding in her white blouse. Thank God she was so focused on whoever she was calling, because she would have seen me blatantly staring at her.

Upon hearing a voice and saying hello, she fell into her chair and turned around to look out the window. With her back to me and her body mostly hidden by her desk, I tried to get the blood out of my little head and back to the big one so I could finish the exam. It was difficult. No, it was Herculean to keep my mind on the exam and off of Professor Grant's body. But I did. It took another hour, but I did answer every question. When it was complete, I was brain dead. I felt like I had given mental birth and I was drained completely. I put my exam on Professor Grant's desk and thanked her for allowing me the extra time. As I turned to leave, she spoke.

"Hold on Mr. Rhodes," she said as she rose out of her chair. She walked straight to me and wrapped her arms around me tightly.

"Thank you," she said with her head buried in my neck. "Thank you so very much Justin."

"Umm ... what for Professor Grant?"

"My daughter was in the car this morning. Michelle, the girl you stayed with. She's my daughter."

So that's what Officer Coles had told her. That must have been who she called. She must have been relieved to know that her daughter was not harmed.

"You're welcome," I said as I wrapped my arms around her to return her hug.

When I did that, she tightened her hug even more and took a deep breath. And did her chest ever feel good pressed up against me like that.

"I called the house and Michelle told me everything. She told me you wanted to leave, but that she begged you to stay. She couldn't believe that you did. Between her father, or rather the lack there of, and the guys she's dated, I doubt she has ever had a man do something selfless for her. She couldn't believe that any guy would stay without getting something out of it."

She moved her head and before I knew it she had lightly kissed the corner of my mouth. And I can honestly say that up to that young age of 18 years, I have never gotten so hard so fast. Professor Grant had to have felt it because her entire body was pressed up against mine, but she didn't say a thing. She just put her head back into the small of my neck and continued.

"Michelle even said you didn't try to take peeks at her or Sandra. She thinks it the first time since she developed that a guy has looked at her and didn't just notice her tits."

'Hello,' I thought. Did my professor just say the word 'tits' while hers were pressed against me? At this point I thought my dick was so hard I thought it was going to poke right through my jeans.

"Well, she is a pretty girl," I said. I heard her take in a quick breath of air.

"But she needed help not some idiot drooling on her," I quickly added. Professor Grant leaned back, looked up into my eyes, and just smiled at me. I never took the time to notice, but she had really great blue eyes. I think this was the first time I had ever seen her act like a lady and not as some cold-as-ice bitch.

"I hope she gets to hear a compliment like that some day. My daughters could use hearing more of that and less of the 'nice rack' and 'damn you're hot'."

She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. With put her head against my chest and whispered 'we all could'.

Without thinking, I just said "Well she definitely takes after her mother. You're both gorgeous."

"What did you say?" Professor Grant asked.

"I said you're both gorgeous."

She looked up at me and I could see the tears just welling in her eyes. While I have had one serious girlfriend, I didn't have a solid understanding of women. In an instant, I made her cry. Because of that, I thought I was screwed.

"You think I'm gorgeous?" she asked. She almost seemed anxious to hear me say it again.

Okay, maybe I wasn't screwed.

"Absolutely. Without a doubt," I replied eagerly.

"How could you say that?" she asked shaking her head. "Michelle was in a bikini, so that I get. But you've never seen me in anything like that."

"Well that's true, but as we came up the stairs ..."

My words just trailed off. My dad has often told me that I speak without thinking. In the span of one second, I realized he was right.

"Wait," Professor Grant said as she pushed back from me. "You were checking me out as we came up the stairs."

I knew she could hear me gulp before I confessed.

"Yes, I did. I'm not making excuses, but I couldn't help it. You were walking up the stairs right in front of me. Your blazer had drifted up and there it was."

"There what was?"

"Uhh ... your behind. And as you walked up the stairs ... in those slacks ... wow ... I mean ..."

"Wow?"

I was beginning to think I couldn't dig this hole any deeper. But as I looked at Professor Grant, I didn't see anger. I didn't see disgust. I saw her looking at me with those blue eyes and hers eyes seemed to be searching for something.

I don't know how I remembered the advice my friend Katrina gave me, but I did. She had said that women like compliments, but they love sincere ones. If you want a woman to believe you are sincere when you compliment her, look her straight in her eyes and speak your mind. Here I was, standing in front of a Senior Professor at the University. She could fail me. She could probably get me kicked out of the school if she wanted. But right then and there, every part of me knew she wouldn't. I didn't know how I knew, but I did.

So I looked Professor Grant dead in the eyes and spoke up.

"Professor Grant, when I followed you up the stairs I got a glimpse of the most perfect ass I have ever seen."

"Really?" she asked with big eyes. "You really think I have a great ass?"

"No," I said with more confidence. "You have a perfect ass. And those slacks were made to show it off. The view of your ass as you walked up the stairs was ... well ... fucking awesome. It was all I could do to concentrate for the past hour."

Professor Grant leaned up and kissed me again on the corner of my mouth. She then leaned back for a moment, looking into my eyes.

"So then, this is for me?" she asked as she grinded her hips into mine. With my mind running 800 miles per hour, I had momentarily forgotten about how hard my dick was. Five minutes ago, I would have simply run out of the room. But standing here with her body pressed against mine as she looked directly into my eyes, I felt positive about being able to answer her directly and without fear.