The lecture hall emptied slowly, students shuffling papers, zipping backpacks, murmuring about weekend plans. Sophia lingered at her desk in the third row, pretending to scribble notes long after everyone else had gone.She knew he’d notice.He always noticed.Professor Elias Grant stood at the podium, closing his laptop with deliberate care. Mid-forties, tall, broad-shouldered, with salt-and-pepper hair that made him look distinguished rather than old. His tailored charcoal suits fit like they were made for sin, and his voice—deep, precise, commanding—had been the soundtrack to her filthiest fantasies all semester.Today she’d worn the skirt he liked: short, pleated, black. Paired with thigh-high stockings and a blouse one button too low. She’d caught him glancing at her legs more than once during his lecture on Renaissance symbolism.The door clicked shut behind the last student.The room fell silent except for the faint hum of the projector cooling down.Sophia stood, gathering her
Last Updated : 2026-02-21 Read more