Brooklyn James

Chapter Four

"I graded the last exam and I must say I'm greatly disappointed in the performance most of you done. I don't know if it's because of me and the way I’m presenting the material or a bunch of ya’ll just didn't bother to study, but we'll get to the bottom of it after I pass all the papers back." I watched the professor walk around the classroom while he handed everyone their exam back. When he came to me he said my name out loud, 

     "Brooklyn," he said as he stood over me. I looked up at his tall frame; he placed my exam face down. He winked at me before he turned his back to me. I turned my paper around and there it was, an ‘A’ written in red ink across the top of my paper. I let out a sigh of relief even though I knew I would get that grade. I heard a scoff coming from the sides of me along with other ‘Man, I studied my ass off for this damn test,’ and ‘This some bullshit.’ I turned to face my classmate and associate Alana, 

     "I got a C," she exclaimed. "I studied all weekend for this test, how did I get a C? I was sure I would get at least a B. I know one thing, I better not get less than a B in this class. I fuckin hate statistics." she shook her head, 

"What did you get?" she asked while turning to look at me. 

     "An A," I told her unenthused.

     "I should have known, you stay passing his test but I never see you study." She lowered her voice, "Tell me your secret, what you doin, fuckin him?" she giggled. I returned a laugh and a shove to her. 

     “HA! Nah I’m just smart like that. I beez in my books when no one looking.” If she only knew she hit the nail on the spot. 

Statistics was my hardest class. I was failing damn near every test, I just was not receiving any of the information that he taught in class or that I would read. We had scheduled a meeting one day so that I could get a little more clarification on the world of statistics. It was late on a Thursday night when we were able to meet. I had classes all morning and let him tell it he was stuck in meetings all day so seven o’clock that night was the only time we could meet. I saw a professor here and there in their office fondling a stack of papers as I walked through Wilson Hall. The halls were dimly lit by the emergency lights. I couldn’t get to my phone fast enough as sound of my generic ring tone shook the halls.

     “Hello?” I answered trying to adjust my books in my arms. 

     “Wassup girl, what’s the move?” A deep masculine voice sung into the phone. I looked down to see who I was talking to. The number didn’t have a number saved into my phone so it was either two things. One, he wasn’t someone I talked to on the regular or two, his dick game wasn’t good. 

     “Who is this?” I asked. I was standing outside of the statistics class. I heard him suck his teeth. 

     “Chris,” I frowned my eye brows because I didn’t recall a Chris.

     “Oh, well I’m busy tonight. I have some studying to do. I’m actually bout to walk in the library now so I’ma hit you up when I finish.” Not giving him a chance to answer I hung up. With phone in hand I opened the door and walked in to see Professor Marcus Rice at his desk reading through a paper. 

     “Hey Professor Rice,” I smiled. I grab the seat closes to his desk and pulled it closer and we got right to it. 

We were at the end of our tutoring session; I was organizing my things when I saw Professor Rice stand up from his desk. I felt him walk around the back of me and a few seconds later I felt the heat of his breath on my neck. The hairs on the nape of my neck stood. Panties instantly soaked. Professor Rice was a good looking man. He was just hitting his mid-thirties. A tall piece of dark chocolate, just one shade to being as black as Wesley Snipes. His dreads were to the middle of his back, but he always had them neatly pulled back. There was not a day that I had not seen them re-twisted. 

     “Let’s be honest, you and I both know you’re not gonna pass this class on your own. So how bout you help me help you.” I bit my bottom lip. His voice was so seductive. 

     “Professor, fuckin my teachers is not my thing.”

     “Have you ever fucked your professor before?”

“No, but—,”

     “Then don’t say it’s not your thing unless you try it out.” Then it happened; his lips on my neck, his hand on my breast, me sucking in air and letting out a moan. Right then, right there he had me.  

I tried to pay attention for the remainder of the class but because of the time I got in early that morning I couldn't focus. My eyes were too heavy to stay open. I thought I’d gotten whiplash the way I had continuously jerked my head up from nodding off. No one was happier than me when class was dismissed. I had my body turned in my seat so I could put my notebook and papers back into my book bag. 

     “Miss James,” I heard the all too familiar voice. I looked over my shoulder to see Professor Rice staring at me. "Can I speak to you for a minute?"

     "Uh, sure," I said unsure myself. We never talked one on one in the class after we’d almost been caught in the act. I waited until everyone was out of the classroom to get up from my seat. I walked to the front of the class where he was. He lifted his briefcase off the teacher's desk and looked up at me. "Wassup?"

     "Tonight," he quickly answered. I furrowed my eyebrows.

     "Can't," I answered back.

     "Why?" he asked with questioning eyes. He was trying to read me.

     "Busy." I said keeping the answers short just like him.

     "Doing someone?" I chuckled,

"That's not for you to worry about? Just know that it won't be you." I didn't have plans to be with anyone that night but I didn't appreciate the comment. I was tired and he was getting too attached.  He sat his briefcase back on the desk and walked around the desk. He walked behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I let out a sigh, "You really going to do this here?" I inquired. 

     "We’re grown; what they going to say if someone does see this." He whispered in my ear. I pushed his hands from off my waist and turned away from him, 

     "Oh there's that married professor having an affair with his student.” I folded my arms over my breast. I turned and looked at him. “You know Marcus; you’ve been getting a little too comfortable lately."

     He smirked as he took a few steps away from me, "I'll call you."