As I stepped outside, the prism-like wind sliced through the tank top I wore. It danced, climbed, begged me to join it. I had to fight it to get to class on time, and it still wanted to play when I got there. Whipping the door from my hands, it fought my resolve not to stay with it. I regretted having to go inside; it was so inviting to just stay and play.
“I’ll play later,” I promised, and pulled the door shut behind me. The silence without the wind seemed hesitant, waiting. The air inside was timid, and tried to make me feel the same. It was an unusual thing for me to feel anything akin to timid.
“Waiting for someone special?” the sudden voice behind me made me pivot on my heel and lean against the door.
“Professor Luke!” my face brightened visibly at the sight of my handsome professor. “I didn’t hear you come in!” My eyes drank in his body, from his soft gray shirt to his black knit pants and work boots. The undefined outlines of his muscles were tantalizing, with the tightness of his shirt just around his chest and biceps and the roundness of his thighs swathed in black. My eyes hesitated on him, and I tasted his spicy aftershave in the back of my throat.
“Might I offer the lady an escort to class?” he offered me his arm with a Cheshire smile. I ran my fingers up his arm to his shoulder in response, perhaps a bit over-zealously.
“Oh my, Professor! How gallant!” I hammed it up, but got a thrill from touching him nonetheless. We both laughed at our play-acting, and I let go of him, just a bit reluctantly.
In class, I sat in the back row, where no one could see my face during class except him. The lights were dimmed for a movie we were to be watching, and I decided to enjoy myself for a while. The movie began, and images of WWII airplanes flashed across the screen. Professor Luke closed his eyes momentarily, and I took that as my chance to “strike.”
I pulled my long hair out of the bun I had held it in, shaking my head slightly. I placed a small dab of sweet vanilla lipgloss to my mouth and then let my tongue rest on my top row of teeth. I relaxed and let my mouth fall open slightly. When he glanced at me, I ran my tongue over them slowly, hesitating at each incisor, teasing the delightful need that was building up behind them. Professor Luke just stared at me, his eyes about to drop from his skull. He looked away quickly and even in the dim light I could tell that he was blushing a deep crimson. All throughout the class I continued to stroke my teeth with the tip of my tongue, and he continued to blush and stammer. It was my turn to be in control now.
“Please have your analysis of the movie done for class on Friday, people!” he called to us on our way out the door. “Lili, please stay for a moment, I’d like to speak with you,” he said it in such a manner that everyone would think I was in trouble for goofing off during the movie. I took a deep breath and held it for a second – would he say what I wanted him to say? Would I get close to him? Would he kiss me? I slowly let out my breath and walked over to his desk, trying not to notice the pterodactyls in my stomach.
“Yes, Professor?” I was as demure as possible as I slid up to his desk. He cleared his throat, and I noticed that he hadn’t stopped blushing completely.
“Lili, I apologize about the inappropriate comments I made to you before class today,” he said it all in a rush of breath, like he regretted having to even think it.
“But, Professor, what inappropriate comments were those?” I replied, hoping I could turn the tide of the conversation. He cleared his throat again and I knew he felt uncomfortable even sitting near me. I leaned forward even more, giving him a glimpse down the front of my blouse. His eyes were drawn to it, and he coughed harder.
“Let’s just say that my ‘escorting’ you to class was unnecessary and I apologize,” he was so polite! My pulse roared in my ears, and his Polo™ cologne washed down from my nose to my mouth, only to make it water. At the same time, I felt defeated. If he had seen it necessary to apologize for his speech, then he’d never go far enough to require any “apologies” for his actions. I had one shot left to communicate my craving for him.
“Oh Professor!” I giggled just like one of the other girls, then. “You know I didn’t mind that! Besides,” here, I lowered my head in an almost confessional manner, “you should know that I loved the attention. It’s so rare to find someone who will pay attention to me. You know, make me feel special – like a woman,” there it was, the clincher. If he had any interest in me at all, or if he was even male, he had to respond to that.
“Well, Lili, um… you’re a very pretty girl, and I’m sure you have no problems getting attention from your peers,” his eyes betrayed his words, as did the tent building in the crotch area of his pants. I knew had him then. It would just be a matter of time.
“Pretty!” I cried in mock dismay, “pretty is what flowers are, or babies, or dresses! Pretty is for little girls! Unless –“ I paused, “unless you think that I’m just a little girl,” his eyes crawled over me again for long moments, resting at the opening at the top of my shirt.
“No, Lili, I certainly don’t see you as a little girl,” he said carefully. He knew he was treading water with sharks now. I craned my neck forward only the tiniest inch to be close enough to whisper to him.
“Then how do you see me?” unintentionally, he swallowed hard.
“I see you as a student,” he was barely whispering as he spoke.
“Is that all?” I pressed. Our faces were close enough together that I felt the hot wind of his breath on my cheeks. His breathing was laboured, his mind was spinning behind his eyes.
“That’s all,” he replied, as though under great duress. I did my best to look crestfallen. It wasn’t too hard, since I knew then that I would have to work on him doubly as much to get him to admit anything to me. His body responded though, and answered my question the way I wanted it to be answered. His zipper strained on his pants to the limit, ignoring his discomfort or embarrassment.
“I see,” I said, with a molasses texture to my voice. “Then I was mistaken. The apology is mine, Professor,” I stood up languidly, letting my arms smooth my skirt with tremendous care. He made a small noise then, almost one like a wounded animal. It sounded like a sigh that was almost a squeak.
“No need to apologize, Lili, it’s understandable to have these feelings towards your instructors,” his tone became more relaxed when I stood, nearly to the point of conspiratorial. “Listen, you know I’m always here if you need to talk to someone – or if you’re feeling neglected,” a smile washed over his face then, as he thought the ordeal was over.
“Thank you, Professor, but I think I’m going to go work out instead,” I was cool, even relaxed saying it. I could hardly believe I was so calm! I was so close to the man that I would be able to lick his salt off my fingertips when I left the room, and here I was, calmer than if he had just instructed me to read a book. With a last glance at him, I turned and moved towards the door, only to look back at him and smile.
I walked back to the dorms quickly, but not so fast as to seem eager. I climbed the stairs to my third-floor room and changed into a loose pair of sweatpants and a sports bra. I brought along a pair of spandex shorts to change into when I got to the gym. The gym was located halfway between the student’s dorms and the professors’ houses on campus. It was a small building with separate locker rooms, a weight room, a basketball court, a pool, and a sauna. I headed for the locker room first, to change shorts, then to the weight room.
Inside the weight room I turned up the music and used the machines facing the floor to ceiling mirrors first. They gave me a perfect view of the gym’s outer door and the door to the weight room itself. I did crunches, push-ups, and squat-thrusts to warm up, then moved on to the machines to work my biceps. While I was working, I saw Professor Luke walk in the outer door to the gym. I knew he would see me so I closed my eyes quickly and concentrated on my workout. When I opened my eyes again, he had disappeared from the doorway. I turned down the music a bit and heard him changing in the men’s locker room. I turned the music back up and moved on to a machine where I was lying face down, with my legs pressing two weights together. It was meant to work my thighs, but also gave a tempting view of my backside. While I worked on that, I heard him enter the room and begin to stretch. When he saw my poisition, he stopped moving and just watched me. I did ten reps of twenty, then stopped to breathe. I made sure to push myself, and was breathing hard and fast.
“You’ll wear yourself out on that thing,” he said, now standing directly behind me. I pretended to be startled this time, and twisted around on the bench so I could see him.
He was so gorgeous! Tight cut-off sweatpants and a thin navy blue shirt that accentuated his pectorals, and always that spicy aftershave of his. I brushed a stray lock of hair from my eyes and frowned playfully at him.
“Professor, you scared the living daylights from me!” I turned my body completely over onto my back and rested there, looking up at him. “That’s the second time you’ve done that all day!” I scolded. “I might get to thinking that you actually enjoy making me jump,” at this he paused and turned towards the opposite wall, and picked up a free weight.
“Don’t be silly,” he returned, “I enjoy frightening all my students.”
“Well, you’ve done a wonderful job on me for today,” I continued. I moved across the room to a barbell and settled myself on the bench beneath it. It only held 100 lbs., but I decided to press my luck. “Would you spot me, Professor?” I called to him lightly. He looked up, saw me on my back with most of the bench between my knees and it took very few moments for him to decide what to do.
“You’re a strong girl, - excuse me - woman, I’m surprised that you need a spotter at all,” he walked over to the bench I was on slowly, a cougar stalking his prey. When he got to me, I was still breathing hard from my last exercise, and my breasts rose and fell in time with my heart beat. “Go ahead and lift – I’m here if you need me,” he placed two hands under the weights and nodded.
At first, I lifted them easily enough, but after three reps I began to tire and my arms began to shake.
“Professor,” I gasped, “help me with this – my arms are about to fall off!” He easily lifted the weight back onto its rack and helped me up.
“I think you’re about done for today,” he said in his most fatherly tone.
“Is that an order, Professor?” I smiled at him and bit my lower lip slightly.
“Yes,” he said with only mock-seriousness. “And let’s forget about this ‘Professor’ stuff while we’re outside of class, shall we? You know I’m just Luke to everyone here,” and he was. No one called him Professor outside of the lecture hall except me, and I had enjoyed the idea.
“Sure, Luke. I said, making a great show of difficulty in saying it naturally. He stroked my hair and gave me that same Cheshire smile as before – fading in, and fading out.
“So, you’re going home to study then?” he asked, suddenly taking his hand away from me.
“Maybe,” I began to walk towards the locker rooms then, “maybe not.” He chuckled after I left, and continued to work out.
Now, I knew that it was the Professor - ahem! Luke’s habit to go to the sauna before leaving the gym. So, I stripped down and wrapped a large fluffy towel around me and headed for the sauna room. It was only about ten minutes later that I heard the latch to the door moving and watched him walk in. He sat down across from me on the bench, and didn’t even notice my presence until -
“Jeez-us! Lili, you scared the shit outta me!” I sat up from where I had been lying and looked at him.
“I guess that’s two for you and one for me then?” He shook his head and quickly checked himself to see that all of his “naughty bits” were covered. I couldn’t help but stifle a giggle.
“And what’s so funny, little Miss?” he demanded.
“Nothing, Luke,” I replied, sending me further into giggles. He looked genuinely confused for a few moments, and asked me again what the matter was. “I can’t help it,” I explained, “I laugh when I’m nervous about something.” Suddenly, the light dawned on him that we were alone in the sauna with hardly anything covering ourselves but thin layers of terry-cloth. For the second time that day, I saw him blush a deep rose hue. I stood up and crossed the tiny floor and sat down on the bench beside him. He started to protest, but I shushed him. It was as though a magnetic force drew us together, and before another conscious thought crossed my mind, our lips met and our breath mingled.
Suddenly, we were on the bench together, pulling and tugging at towels, stroking hair and finding one another’s lips again. His normally warm body was scalding to the touch and my usually chilled skin was on fire. We ventured every place we dared, every fantasy revealed through our petting and caresses. Our tongues ignited when they met, searching, hunting for some flavor, some scent we couldn’t name. His skin grew slick with perspiration, as did mine, and we slid against each other as the room grew even hotter.
Finally, he looked at me with such seriousness I knew what he was going to ask. I caught his mouth as it formed the words, and only said “yes,” before guiding his hips onto mine. An explosion would have rocked us less than the feeling of our passion consumed. Fast and hard to slower and more gentle, we rolled around on the fragrant wood of the sauna until our fires could be banked. In almost two hours, we had become slightly dehydrated, and before either of us could move on, we decided that we needed to move out of there. Quickly, we moved to the showers to cool off, and then to his house on campus.
On our way there, he asked,
“How did you know what I was thinking in the sauna?” I told him I had no idea what he meant, and he elaborated. “Just as I saw you in there, I thought to myself ‘if she’s as startled as I am, then nothing will happen. But if she laughs, or does anything to break the tension, then I’ll let things go as they will.” I explained that I had not had any idea about his thoughts at that moment, only that I thought he was unbearably cute trying to rearrange his towel so as not to offend me. We laughed and he stroked my hair again. We kissed, and my body trembled from the feeling. “You’re cold,” he said, and took my hands in his. “You can’t walk all the way back across campus alone in this weather,” he opened his door and ushered us both inside.
“Why don’t you walk me home then?” I challenged. He paused, searching for a reason that might sound halfway valid.
“Then I’d catch my death of cold,” he offered, and pulled me into another embrace with him. I began to kiss his neck, all the way from his ear to his collar bone.
“Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” I whispered, and closed my eyes only to hear the wind howling in the trees – begging me to come out and play.