Professor Jamal spent the rest of the morning throwing himself wholeheartedly into his lectures, and avoided the dining hall at lunch. After a particularly satisfying discussion on Don Quixote he almost forgot why he was so nervous. As the clock in his office ticked off the last few minutes before 2:00 Jamal seriously considered locking his door, turning off the lights, and pretending to be elsewhere. That, or jump out the window.
He mentally cursed himself. He needed to get a grip on his self-control, surely he could spend an hour alone with this girl without bending her over his desk.
He spent lots of time with dozens of attractive and available women without feeling so on edge. Why should she be any different?
Jamal was slumped over his desk, head in hand when the knock came.
"Come in", he called running a handover his low cut hoping he looked calm and collected.
The door cracked open, and she appeared around it with that mind numbing smile on her face
"Good afternoon, Professor".
"Hello, Monica". He couldn't help but smile back at her. "How's your day been "?
"Great" she responded, settling into the chair he motioned to. We're covering fantasy right now in Genre Studies. It's my favorite".
"Mine too", he admitted smile still in place.
"So what about your paper would you like to discuss"?
He watched as she leaned over to rummage in her bag on the floor. Her hair slid across her bare shoulders, and Jamal wondered what it would feel like wrapped around his fist. He followed the slide of her hair , noticing the way the V of her dress neckline revealed the shadowy valley between he breast. His mouth watered
"Ah! Here it is", she reported sitting back up to face him. He snapped his eyes away from her cleavage so fast he felt a little dizzy but she seemed not to notice.
"I've actually finished the paper", she continued.
"I'd love your feedback, if you have the time to skim it of course".
With a chuckle Jamal raised an eyebrow, "of course you've already finished it".
Fuck! He thought to himself, as Monica started blushing soft pink slipping over here cheekbones, her gaze cast downward and her bottom lip between her teeth.
He cleared his throat, "It would be my pleasure to look this over. You're welcome to chill here while I do....or if you have other places to be--"
"No, she said quickly. "I don't have anywhere else to be".
He met her eyes as she handed him the paper, and there was something in them he couldn't quite decipher. It was probably just his own wishful thinking that it looked like lust.
Their fingertips brushed, and suddenly her lip was gripped between her teeth again.
As Jamal skimmed her paper, he couldn't help but be impressed. She wrote beautifully, her argument was well thought out and very well researched.
He felt her eyes on him and when he glanced up, her lips were still between her teeth.
Skimming again over the passage he'd just read, he thought of a suggestion. "Here", he said pointing, "where you mention Lady Macbeth. I'd love for you to bring in more textual evidence from that play. I see your point, but you could really drive it home with--"
The end of that sentence flew out of his head, because she was suddenly hovering over shoulder, probably to get a better look at the section he was talking about. She smelled edible like cookies, cinnamon, and sugar man oh God did he want to taste her.
She leaned forward slightly to run her finger across a line of text. Jamal knew she was saying something maybe asking a question, but he was distracted. She was so close that her hair brushed across his cheek, her breast pressed against his shoulder.
"Professor"?
Jamal cleared his throat, the words she had spoken falling together like puzzle pieces into the question he missed. "Yes exactly, if you add that in and add it to the play-within-a-play bit, the text from As You Like It, the historical details, and the theatrical staging you've already covered. I'd say this piece is damn near doctorate-level work".
Monica shifted back, no longer touching him. It was a good thing, because if she kept leaning directly over him, she'd definitely notice his dick pressing against his zipper.
"Thank you, professor, she said. "For the compliment, and for your help". She was still close, so dangerously close. He avoided looking at her, shuffling some papers around on his desk.
Hoping to sound like the respected professor he was, and not the virginal teenage boy she made him, or at least his dick feel like.
Jamal said, " It's the least I could do Monica. You're my best student after all, it's a true pleasure to teach you".
He winced as soon as the words were out. It was true for sure, but he shouldn't admit it to her. Especially due to the fact, he was currently thinking about all the things he could teach her besides Shakespeare.
She was silent, but then so quietly that he might have imagined it she responded, " The least you could do? What else could you do for me"?
His head snapped toward her. Her eyes were dark, and the corners of her mouth twitched up as if she were laughing at him.
Oh God I'm completely fucked, he thought to himself.
YOU ARE READING
TEACHER'S PET ( short erotic novel)
Short Story"A college professor does his best to avoid the temptation presented by one of his students."
