Hello everyone! Bet you thought I was gone. This my new short story, so each chapter is not going to be that long. It's a bit of a departure from my usual and I'm hoping that everyone likes it. I'll try to update every week, since I'm not really working on anything at the moment. Let me know what you think. Enjoy!
Patrick watched as students filed into his classroom, eagerness humming in the air. He knew that feeling. Knew it like the back of his hand. Every year, his classroom was filled with the sensation of eager minds, ready to tackle the world and change it for the better. Little did they know that by the end of the semester, half of them would have dropped out, the courses too much or their idealism waning in the face of mounting bills. He had once been that naïve, before things had gone south and he'd been banished to this backwaters town. Now, all he had to do was survive until his year was up and he would be free.
He was turning back to his beat up desk when a student caught his eye and he stared at her as she walked up the stairs to the top row of seating. She had a generous figure, hips swaying as she climbed the stairs, black, shiny hair brushing the collar of her shirt. There was something about her; an exotic sexiness that called to him. Perhaps it was the way she moved, or the way her body looked as if it could give unlimited amounts of pleasure. Patrick usually went for the model types, with willow bodies and long hair, but this girl; she was stirring something different in him.
She turned to her side to move down the row of seats and he could see that she was just as generous up top, lush breasts peaking out above the scoop neck of her t-shirt, straining against the thin fabric. Her skin was a deep brown, reminding him of the color of his favorite coffee, French espresso. Dark and strong. He couldn't see what color her eyes were, but her lips were thick and full and before he could stop himself, he imagined what it would be like to taste them. He shook his head and went back to his desk, ready to begin class. He would not go down that path again.
"Good morning class. I am professor Allman and this is Political science 380."
The rest of class, he would occasionally glance the young woman's way, always thrown off to find her watching him avidly. The few times their eyes met, she had smiled at him and looked away, her hand busy writing notes. As class ended, he watched her leave the room, attention riveted by the way she moved; scarlet toes exposed by her heeled sandals, a short khaki skirt giving him an eyeful of curvaceous, thick legs and thighs. He found himself holding his breath as she walked by, vanilla and jasmine tickling his nose. Patrick let the breath out as she walked through the door into the hallway. Maybe she would be one of the students who dropped out and then he wouldn't have to worry.
Patrick ran a hand through his shaggy blonde hair and shoved his notes into a worn leather briefcase. Monday's were his lightest days with only two classes, and his next one wasn't until after lunch, so he had plenty of time to do whatever he wanted. At the moment, that meant he was going to head to the empty space he called a home. He hadn't bothered to get anything to furnish it, aware that his time at Chestnut University was limited.
Once outside, Patrick slipped on his sunglasses, the Minnesota sun bright as it beamed down on him. He hadn't thought that being this far north would so hot, but once again, he'd been surprised. Shrugging off his blazer, he trudged across the campus grounds to the faculty parking lot, his black Chrysler sedan gleaming bright under the morning sun. He sank into the seats, the hot air settling over him. He really hoped this year went by fast.
Audra let herself into her tiny loft apartment later that afternoon, dropping her books by the door. Slipping off her shoes, she moved to the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of water and drinking from it deeply. Bottle still in hand, she wandered over to the far wall of windows and looked out over the skyline. There wasn't much to see; being so far from the city, but it was still nice to have the view, a way to keep her mind from where she was. It was lonely, being so far from home, but she'd had to leave in order to pursue the degree she wanted, to make a better life. She only needed a few more political science classes and she would be done.
Audra thought about her professor, his grey-blue eyes clear and striking in his tanned, rugged face, with lips that smirked more often than they smiled. He was a big man, towering over most of the students, including her own 5'6" frame. There was a hint of cockiness about him, in the way he swaggered around the room, the way his large hands moved over the chalkboard, demanding attention. She sighed as she remembered how his eyes had always seemed to find hers in a classroom as big as theirs. Audra fought the direction her thoughts were going, knowing that nothing could come of them. He was her professor.
A glance at her watch told her that she was going to be late for softball practice if she didn't hurry. Setting the bottle down, she changed swiftly and rushed out the door, thoughts of her professor far from her mind.
It was two days later when Patrick saw her again. He hadn't expected her to be in more than one of his classes and it knocked him for a loop when he looked up and saw her sitting in the same seat as Monday. Today she was wearing a pair of white shorts and a racerback tunic that showed off her muscular arms. His eyes traveled down the length of her legs, falling on a sexy pair of leather wedges that buckled around her ankles. He wondered if her legs were as smooth as they looked, if they would fit around his waist and hold him close as he moved inside her.
When he raised his gaze, Patrick was discomfited to find a pair of nearly black eyes watching him with bewilderment. He forced himself to look away, embarrassed to have been found staring. He spun around to face the blackboard, a flush creeping up his neck.
"We are going to discuss Machiavelli and his contribution to today's political leaders." He barked, angry at himself for the way his thoughts had gotten away from him.
After what seemed like forever, it was time for the class to end. Patrick snapped out an assignment for them to do, ignoring their groans as they left the room. He sank down into the chair and cradled his head in his hands. Half of the students didn't even seem interested in what he was teaching, constantly glancing at their watches or twiddling with their damn iPods. This was worse than he'd thought.
"Professor?" a soft, husky voice called.
He pulled his head out of his hands, disconcerted to see the young woman standing beside his desk, biting her lower lip. "How can I help you Miss…?"
"Audra…Audra Florence." She held out her hand to him and he took it in a daze, surprised at the almost rough texture of it. He wondered what she did.
"Ms. Florence. What can I do for you?" he dropped her hand as he stood, feeling out of sorts having her stand over him.
Audra took a step back, though she still had to tilt her head back to stare up at him. "On Monday I have a softball game and I'm not going to be able to make it to class." She shrugged and looked down at her toes. "I was wondering if I could get the assignments for that day."
That explained the texture of her hands. Why did he feel forlorn at the thought of her not being in his class? "We'll be going over chapters two and three."
Audra smiled at him then, a grin that showed off her perfect teeth and sexy lush lips. "Thank you Professor Allman." she turned and headed out the door.
Patrick couldn't help but watch as she walked away from him, those luscious hips moving from side to side. It wasn't too hard to imagine his hands holding onto them, gripping tightly as she rode him. He yanked his gaze away, readying his desk for his next class.
When Patrick went home that night, he flicked on the TV and slumped into his worn tattered couch. After switching channels a few times, he decided to pop in a DVD, something to relax his mind. It was hard to concentrate, his thoughts straying to Audra and the smell of her skin. The movie flicked on, Jenna Jameson's blond hair and large breasts filling the screen. This was sure to take his mind off his student. He let his hands drift down to the front of his khaki's, rubbing the growing bulge, unbuckling his belt and pants. Laying his head against the back of the couch, he let the sounds of the TV wash over him as he stroked himself to completion.