The Professor 소설 & 이야기

Rage boiling off him like radioactive steam. But that wasn’t the worst part. No. Because right beside him—arms awkwardly at his sides, expression horrifically neutral, eyes darting like a deer caught in a very inappropriate headlights—stood... Mr. Cristiano Wright. My professor. In his dark slacks and half-buttoned shirt. His perfectly composed face trying to calculate whether he’d walked into an emotional intervention or a domestic warfare documentary. I could see it in his eyes. That exact moment when his soul quietly whispered: “I am a dignified professor afterall. Why the actual f**k am I here?”

He’s close now, he looks at me as if he’s studying me. “Higher, stretch.” His hand moving near my ribcage but not touching. “I need to see how the muscles look.” I stretch higher. His eyes track the movement of my body like he’s memorizing equations. “Turn slowly.” He takes a deep breath. “Something wrong, Professor?” “Your posture.” His voice sounds strained. “Your back curves here.” His finger runs down my back, the first time he’s touched me since I stripped. “Do you feel that?”

Feeling wet and uncomfortable, I don’t focus on most part of the lesson as my eyes are glued to this man. Professor Quinn? Standing tall in front of the class in a pair of classy black dressed pants, square rimmed glasses that makes his nose pointier, and his beard. Everything about this man screams wealth and dangerous mixed together. I should focus, but I find it hard when my Professor is the same man who had had his fingers rubbing my panties until I cum shamefully, screaming profanities at the same time. With rosy cheeks, I lift my head from my desk to face this man, and I gasp when I notice his eyes on me.

The lecture hall had emptied hours ago. Professor Marcus Kane, 42 years old, sat behind his desk in his private office. He was known as one of the strictest professors on campus, tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp eyes, and an aura of authority that made students both fear and crave his approval.

I turned the corner near the older faculty offices and froze. The door to Professor Harlan’s office, an older economics lecturer known for being strict and married, was slightly ajar. Moans and the unmistakable sound of flesh slapping flesh spilled out. I should have kept walking. Instead, morbid curiosity pulled me closer. I peeked through the gap.

I inhaled sharply and forced myself back to why I was here. “Rumors say the coach for the college hockey team resigned following your employment,” I said carefully. “Some even say you were once a hockey legend yourself. There’s an upcoming tournament the team is preparing for, and they can’t do without a coach.” I paused, hoping my words had landed. Hoping he understood what I was really asking. “Do I have a choice?” he asked after a moment, his eyes locked onto mine. “You’re a teacher on campus,” I replied quickly. “You should care about your students. You should be present to guide them when they need help and you should…”

“So I have this frenemy, who is also a student of this school. He’s a nephew of the dean of faculty. He once told me he stumbled upon a contract in the dean’s laptop. It has something to do with you being approved into this school early on. The request was made by the associate professor. You don’t know how lucky you are, girl.” Wait. I thought my early acceptance was weird. But who the hell is this associate professor? “The professor, who is it?” I ask. “You don’t know?” Tory’s voice takes a higher pitch again. Gods, it’s screeching. “He’s a popular scholar in Rockland. Professor Adrian Cole. I thought you knew him.” My fingers still. Everywhere grows quiet.

Hmm, the professor did not seem to ignore it though. He very well repeated his words and left the side of his desk, walking all the while to the last bench and stare down at Zander. Having him stand beside him did not satisfy Zander in any way. He gave his eyes a dramatic roll and wondered upon what was going to happen, 'Bullshit drama!' "Would you care to explain to us why do you think is it a Bullshit, Zander?" The professor sat on the empty space next to him as the hundreds of eye balls filled with curiosity ultimately followed the teacher and Zander at the last bench.

he gives back my pen and responds with his adorable boxy smile, and I retrieve my pen to continue to work peacefully. I try to solve all the calculation but ends up struggling with my work and not knowing what to write. "do you need my help?" professor's voice passes through my eyes. He bends over me and one hand gets placed on the back of my chair. I feel it touching me and he's now almost guarding my figure by putting his other hand next to my right hand. I don't like this tension, he's too close to me and I can smell his arousing male fragrance which is making me remember that one night's memories, his touch, his face, his voice, everything about that night.

"Because I made a fool out of myself dummy, I..." "Good morning class, my name is Professor Patrick and I will be taking you on Calculus this year". I look up to see a deep voice give the class an announcement. He is an elderly man with grey hairs sticking out here and there. I look around the class and notice that it is almost filled up. Hmm, they must have come in while I was talking to Rea. "Okay I need you to bring out your calculus text book and open to page sixty five, today we will be looking at..."