Professeur Novels & Stories

Neville asked at the guy in front. My body went frozen as he shot a glance at me. "I'm Professor Laurent Vos. Starting today, I'll handle your class."

❤️Amour impossible ❤️ ✏️✏️ Auteur : Judi le Romantique Plume ✏️✏️ ________ Épisode 4_________ Université Cheik Anta DIOP du Sénégal Vérin : Alors mon grand Denard c'est comment tes cours en Droit là-bas ? Denard : Ah ça va hein. J'évolue petit à petit hein. Et à ton niveau ça va ? Vérin : Très bien aussi hein. Alors ça donne quoi avec ta copine au pays là-bas ? Denard : Hum affaire. Laisse moi tranquille ici hein. J'espère vivement qu'elle va m'attendre.

This particular chapter I made in an attempt to introduce my characters to the readers. Please, everyone, enjoy yourselves with this mini-theater. First week. Monday morning. Their first lecture is Professor Ghulam's class. Who is Professor Ghulam, you ask? He is their English Lecturer, a European man that migrated from France. His wife is a Malaysian woman. Professor Ghulam's actual name is Ghulam Stravosky. He is a fifty-three years old handsome man. He is the tallest male in the college, standing on imposing height of six feet and eight inches.

I smiled at Kenji who was at his ends wit. “Don't even think about sleeping,” he glared at me. The man—Professor Neven Karlsson—reached the lectern and opened a folder. "Good morning," he said. That deep, smooth lilt made my skin feel prickly. "I am Professor Neven Karlsson. I’ve spent the morning reviewing the roster for this department. Let’s see who we have." He started calling names. He seemed detached, bored even, until he reached a specific line on the paper.

Isa had persistent trouble staying focused the rest of the week. She couldn't tell if she was dreading the approaching Friday... or anticipating it. The size of the class dwindled significantly. Readings were lengthy, assignments rigorous, but Isa found the subject fascinating. And as intimidating as he was, Professor Ashford was a captivating and charismatic lecturer. He was extremely well-versed and knowledgeable in his field, warranting his many accolades and respect amongst peers. The week flew by, Isa almost forgetting about their post-class encounter on the first day...

The halls are a bit quiet, with only two to three students pacing the corridors. "Four." Azalea peaked inside, noticing the semi-empty classroom. She's sure she counted about ten students. Her eyes then landed on her professor. He's dressed like any other male professor. Khaki pants, white button up, circular glasses, all the usual. Only thing that's different about him and the others is that he's got just a few strands of grey and he looks like the gym's best friend. He set the marker down and turned to the class. "So when you here about Alberto Dephonso you think-

Why couldn't he have met someone like her when he was young enough to do something about it? "I'm so sorry, Professor." Her whisper was breathless, her fair skin flushed. Strands of dark brown hair escaped her haphazard ponytail to cling damply to the creamy white skin of her throat. Her generous bosom bounced as she panted, making Galen glad he stood behind the lectern. It was terribly bad form, he reminded himself, for a forty-five-year-old scholar to go rock-hard at the sight of a student. "My boss absolutely refused to let me leave on time."

I smiled blissfully at her. After some time, the bell rang and we rushed to the classroom. I found Professor Zain talking to one teacher in the corridors near our classroom. I couldn't stop myself from staring at him. He's so attractive and tall. The way his perfect lips are moving, I can't describe in words. My heartbeat quickened again all of sudden. What is happening to me? Am I losing my mind?