Office Hours with the Professor
Professor Jack Erikson, or Jack, as I referred to him
in my fantasies, stopped me as I was leaving his morning
lecture.
"Eve. I'm almost done grading your paper. I
should have it done by seven o'clock. Why don't you stop by
then?"
"I have class then, but I could come by after
nine."
"No problem. I should still be here."
I gave him my best sexy smile and tossed my
blond hair behind my shoulder as I left his classroom. Professor
Erikson was the most attractive instructor in the English
department. He was a southern boy through and through. Half of my
reason for attending the lecture was to listen to his southern
twang and watch his full lips move as he talked. I liked to imagine
how his lips would look kissing my body. He always wore a brown
tweed jacket with elbow patches over a standard white button-up
shirt and tight fitting tan pants. His brown hair was always neatly
parted to the side. At the beginning of each class he would lay out
his notes in front of him. Then he would lay his watch at the top
of his desk to his right. He would obsessively glance at his watch
every five minutes. He had just the right amount of boyish charm
and handsomeness that to make his neuroticism come off as
endearing. It was the right amount of zaniness every professor
should have. His fit body, as displayed by his tight fitting pants,
definitely helped give him sex appeal.
It was just past nine when I got out of class
that night. Jack's office was located next to a pond in a
picturesque part of the campus. Vines crawled up the sides of the
old brick building and gas lamps lit the entrance. Inside, the
building was dead quiet. My heels echoed in the empty corridor as I
made my way to the main staircase. Was I too late? I ran up the
flight of stairs to the second floor. My short skirt climbed higher
up my thighs as I climbed. At the top of the landing, I reached up
to pull it down, but thought the better of it. Let Professor
Erikson have a peek at my thighs. Maybe he'll like what he sees. At
the end of the hallway was the professor's door, standing ajar.
Light streamed through the crack and, as I got closer, I could see
him hunched over his desk. I knocked.
"Come in!"
The desk was cluttered with papers, books,
and pens. He looked up as I entered.
"I've been a bad boy," he confessed in that
southern drawl.
I smiled--I couldn't help it. Do you know
what they do with bad boys? I thought.
I said, instead,"What's wrong?"
"I haven't finished your paper."
"Is this it?" I asked, stepping forward to
the desk.
"Oh, no. Yours is..." He reached across the
desk. As he did his arm brushed my bare thigh. "...this one."
He looked up at me and held out the paper.
There was a look of excitement in his light blue eyes, and a slight
arch to his eyebrow. I grabbed the paper and glanced at it. When I
looked up I saw him staring at my exposed thigh. I cleared my
throat. He looked up. Shame reddened his cheeks.
"Could you give me any pointers? You know,
for next week's paper? I don't want to rush you in correcting this
one."
"Sure." He took the paper back and held it in
front of him, examining it. I looked down and noticed a bulge in
his pants. At least I know for sure I'm turning him on.
"Well, Eve..." He angled his body towards
mine and continued talking. "I think you've got a strong opening
paragraph. Your thesis clearly states the premise of your paper.
What I would like to see more of is--"
I took a step closer to him, letting my knee
come to rest against his. I looked him right in the eye. His gaze
locked with mine. His speech faltered for an instant and then he
regained composure.
"I would like you to fill in more details
about each point. Provide the reader with some concrete
examples."
I stepped forward again,and placed my knee in
between his legs. Jack put his hand on his thigh next to my leg. He
stared at me for a moment. A small, mischievous smile appeared on
his face. He slid his hand over and started