I felt nervous. I had spent time wondering if the e-mail I had received that morning was real or not. It said to meet with Professor G today at five in his room.
The e-mail read that it had been sent from the professor's e-mail address. So, it couldn't be fake. The last time I looked I had had an A in Creative writing. I didn't think it could be about my grade.
On my way there I walked along the sidewalk enjoying the warm spring air. I began to nervously straighten my clothing.
I didn't have much farther to walk before I would be at the building where his classes were held. I pulled my tight fitting jeans up. They hugged my heart shaped ass just the way I liked them too.
I pulled my snug pink shirt down so that it's creases were eliminated and it showed off my tiny, toned waistline and a small amount of cleavage. I smiled and buttoned a single of my thin grey jacket's buttons just under my bust. The bright pink surrounding my breast drew attention to them but I pretended not to notice.
My jacket ruffled in the spring breeze and I closed my eyes enjoying the feeling. The more I thought about the meeting with Professor G the more my heart fluttered. I had a small crush on him.
I had only told my roommate. She thought the age difference made it inappropriate but I didn't care. It wasn't anything big.
I mean, it is not liked I had talked to him outside of class or anything. I just turned red whenever he called me out. I think I also enjoyed his attention a little more than I should have.
He was a little more than thirty years my elder. I was only eighteen. I felt like the feelings I had for him were normal.
I decided not to discuss it with my roommate any more. She obviously didn't like the idea of me falling for an older man. It made me feel sad because mine and the professor's relationship was only hypothetical and I needed someone to talk to.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and tilted the screen so I could read the time in the sun's blinding light. I had five minutes until I was supposed to be there. I could see the building ahead.
There were a few cars here and there but nothing that yelled anything out of the ordinary was happening. I suddenly felt nervous. "What-if's" started running through my mind.
I took a deep breath as I approached the building and tried to shake my irrational anxiety. As I got closer I could see my reflection in the building's glass doors. I smiled at myself and ran a hand through my long chestnut hair to calm its windblown state.
My amber eyes glowed in the afternoon sun. I looked down to my breast. Though they were not large they stood out from my chest in their natural perky positions.
My nipples slightly showed through my lace bra and thin cotton shirt. I averted my eyes.I was finished looking myself over. "Okay, Enough worrying," I told myself aloud. I took a deep breath and entered the building.
The air conditioning felt good against the exposed skin of my chest. It gave me chills that ran over my body leaving my nipples erect. You could definitely see them now. I paid them little attention and continued walking to the Professor's room.
I arrived at his door and stared at the knob. My body was hesitant to go through the doorway. Maybe I could just pretend I didn't get the e-mail. He wouldn't have e-mailed me if it weren't important, I thought.
This was enough to keep me from stalling any longer. I stepped into his room and closed the door behind me. Professor G looked up from a book and smiled. I felt blood running to my cheeks.
"I'll bet that you're wondering why I asked you to meet me here?" the professor said taking off his glasses.
"Yes, actually, I WAS wondering that because I have no idea."
"Well, I asked you to come here so we could discuss your poetry."
"Poetry?" I asked, confused. He hadn't given us any poetry assignments.
He held up a small black book. "Last Friday as you were leaving I think you dropped this. I found it on the sidewalk as I was returning to my car. I was going to toss it before I saw that your name was in the front cover."
My breath caught in my throat and my hand moved to my jacket pocket. I knew it wouldn't be there as I lowered my hand to it. My fingers plunged to the bottom to find nothing. I closed my eyes as wave after wave of embarrassment hit.
The book in his hand wasn't just poetry. It was my journal. A journal that I had confided feelings in, particularly the ones about him.
I had written everything in it in a poetic form so that it wouldn't be easily understood if it were ever found. Of course with my luck it had to be the professor I wrote about who found it. My face burned.
I reached for the book and Professor G handed it over letting his soft hands drag along mine. He looked up at me curiously. I smiled and took a step forward feeling a sudden rush of heat pass though my body and mingle with my embarrassment.
I stepped back realizing what I had done. He stood up from his chair and causally crossed the room to the doorway. I couldn't read his expression.
"So, was everything in the book true?"
I nodded finding I couldn't use my voice. Of course he understood it was a journal. He was, after all, a professor.
Through the embarrassment I felt something else...something along the lines of hope. Had he read all of it? I wondered if he was mad, flattered, or if he was just never going to acknowledge my existence again.
"So in your poetry I found that you continually referred to one of your instructors. What does he teach?" Professor G asked politely.
I hesitated, "He teaches Creative Writing."
The professor nodded. " There are only 2 people on this campus who teach that and one of them happens to be a woman. So that narrows this down some."
I tried to dislodge the knot in my throat. I could feel the fear of rejection in my stomach. The professor leaned toward the door. Instead of opening it and telling me to leave he clicked the lock into place.
I felt stirred. The little black book fell from my hands to the floor. I didn't pick it up or even acknowledge that it had fallen. The professor leaned against the door frame with his hands in the pockets of his slacks.
"So is it true?" he asked. "Do you want me?"
I felt myself getting hotter. I couldn't hold my tongue. I had to tell him. "Yes, I want you. I have wanted you."
"Exactly how do you want me?" the professor asked with a slight smile.
"I want to fuck you." I said bluntly.
I unbuttoned my jacket and laid it across the nearest desk top. I crossed the room and stopped in front of the professor. My fear and embarrassment had left me and the only thing left was a burning want that made tingle all over."So, the question I'm wondering is, do you want me?"
The professor hadn't taken his eyes off me. I didn't have to hear his answer to know that it was yes. I began to shed my shirt.
I watched his expression as I slowly took it off. He seemed entranced as I lifted it above my head and threw it to the floor. My hands, once released from the shirt, stroked my shoulders and caressed my c-cups.
My mocha colored nipples stood in attention under the thin lace of my bra. I teased them in between my fingers. The professor began to move toward me.
I bit my bottom lip. He stroked my exposed sides leaving goosebumps on my sun kissed sun. His eyes devoured my shirtless state.
His hands found my lower back and forcefully pulled me toward him. I put my hands to his chest to catch myself. I enjoyed the feeling of its solidness against my body. He rubbed his hands along me and I smiled in enjoyment. I loved the way he felt.
I couldn't believe this was happening. If my roommate ever found out she would never speak to me again. I smiled to myself. This is me not caring, I thought.
