Author's note: This story is one of the 'main' stories I've been working on for almost a year, off-and-on. While it shares some similarities to my usual style, it is a unique project. It's light and uplifting, serving as a nice contrast to some of my darker works. I'll admit, it's been one of my favorite stories to write.
Also, despite being a seduction story at its core, A Sapiosexual Affair has very little physical seduction. If you're looking for characters overpowered by their biological urges, you may want to check out my other stories instead. This one is about mental curiosity... and what happens when that curiosity becomes something more.
And the usual disclaimers: all characters are fictional, similarities to real-world people/events are purely coincidental, everyone involved is of legal consenting age, etc.
Sapiosexual.
What a fucking pretentious word.
It's a word wannabe-intellectuals use to describe themselves to seem more sophisticated: 'Oh, I barely even notice what someone looks like. What I'm really attracted to is their intelligence.'
Yeah, sure, buddy. That's why you're at the bar, talking up the hot young woman who's got massive tits but no high school diploma. Or why your online dating profile says your ideal woman can both cook and swallow... preferably at the same time. Or why you'd rather pick up women at clubs instead of literally any other venue.
But now I'm the one veering into pretentiousness. I think you get the idea.
I am not sapiosexual. Like most straight men, I love myself some tits and ass. In fact, I love them so much, I couldn't even declare having a preference: I know ass-men and boob-men exist, but for me it's all about appreciating a woman for what she's got. Why restrict myself to one aspect when there's so much about women's bodies to enjoy?
I realize this makes me sound like a horndog, but I'm not... at least, not anymore. I'm a near-middle-aged man with a wife and kids. But I still like to admire the scenery from time to time. And as a college professor, I'm never lacking for scenery...
I know it's a trope for college professors to sleep with their students, but I never have and never will. Don't get me wrong, I've had some hotties in my class—some who would have gladly slept their way to an A—but looking is the most I'd ever do. Besides the obvious moral problems, I'm just not attracted to college students in that way. I can recognize that they're physically attractive... but they're barely adults. Sleeping with them would make me feel like a near-pedophile. I know that probably puts me in the minority, but it's how I feel.
All of that to say is that I never expected to face temptation at my job... and certainly not because I was attracted to a woman's intelligence.
Selena changed everything.
Selena was one of my professor colleagues. We both were in the Social Sciences/Humanities department, but she taught literature whereas I focused on English. Still, we saw each other semi-regularly during department meetings or passing by each other's offices.
The first time I met Selena (when I was hired into the department) I was intimidated by her, but it was hard to pinpoint why. She wasn't mean or even stern, although she was distant. I felt like an unwelcome intrusion into her life—one she tolerated out of politeness. Initially, I worried I'd somehow offended her, but I eventually learned Selena was like that to just about everyone.
Other faculty's opinions on Selena were mixed. One administrative assistant referred to her exclusively as 'S.U.B.' (Selena's initials, but as the assistant observed, could also stand for 'stuck-up bitch'). In another instance, an adjunct refused to communicate with Selena anymore after they'd exchanged testy emails. But others loved her, highlighting her sense of humor, clever insights, and strong independence. Still, while the department staff generally respected Selena, most didn't see her as someone to be friends with.
Student reviews were equally mixed. Most declared her an average professor: brilliant and organized, but boring and distant. Some hated her, calling her unfair and hostile, or my personal favorite: a student-hating tyrant ("who the hell wrote that one? I just want to talk," she'd vented to me later). But a few said Selena was the best professor they'd ever had, citing her complete dedication to both them and the class.
Selena was a puzzle to me, and that's part of the reason I found myself growing increasingly fascinated by her. Deep down, who was Selena?
Despite her initial distance, Selena and I eventually clicked. I think it was our shared sense of humor that did it, but I think she also appreciated I never forced our interactions. Small talk annoyed her.
Whatever the case, over the next few years, Selena warmed to me. And as she opened up, I began to understand why some select few loved her so much.
Yes, Selena could be a bitch, but I don't think she ever intended to be. I think she just had a strong sense of professionalism, and if she felt someone was lacking, she would put them back on track. Not to be mean or judgmental, but to help them... even if it meant coming off as a bitch.
I later learned that Selena was aware of her reputation—and being seen as a bitch did bother her—yet she continued to push her exacting standards anyway. Whether it was from stubbornness, pride, or commitment to excellence, Selena didn't waver.
The more I learned about Selena, the more I admired her. She was funny. She was fierce. She was well-rounded. She was smart. She was professional.
Despite being happily married—and Selena having her own husband and kids—I began to wonder what my life would have been like had the two of us met under different circumstances. Would we have been more than just colleagues?
And then I began to wonder further: what would Selena be like in bed?
At first, it was just a casual curiosity. Does a woman like Selena even have sex? She had two kids, so clearly the answer was yes. But was it sterilized sex? Sex for purely reproductive purposes and nothing else? Or was Selena secretly a closet freak? When she wasn't playing the consummate professional, was Selena a frenzied wildcat who loved to fuck?
Both of these extremes seemed impossible... yet somehow plausible at the same time. I knew odds were that Selena was somewhere in the middle, like most people are, but being 'normal' didn't fit her either. She was a mystery.
Part of my problem was that I had no evidence to work with. I'd never seen a hint of sexuality from Selena, but I couldn't decide if that meant she had none or if it was on total lockdown. Again, both seemed possible.
I should admit here that I've not shared anything about Selena's appearance. That's no accident. I became curious about Selena based on her personality and intelligence alone; the rest was window-dressing.
Don't get me wrong. Selena isn't unattractive, but she dressed and carried herself in a way that attractiveness wasn't relevant. She always wore black pants and muted shirts that were just loose enough to hide any curves. If that wasn't enough, Selena usually wore a sweater or other layer that not only hid her upper body, but usually covered most of her ass as well. The few vaguely curious glances I did shoot at Selena's backside suggested that she wasn't hiding much.
Still, there were a few things I did know. Selena's about five years older than me—old enough for me to respect, yet young enough that we're in the same generation. She's got shoulder-length hair, perfectly straightened and parted down the middle in a style I describe as 'professional Karen'. I suspect she's had a few white hairs, but it's hard to tell with her hair dye. Despite its obvious artificiality, Selena's so-dark-it's-almost-black hair contrasts well against her pale face—and further highlights her green eyes. Her makeup both softens and accents her natural features, and while I'm not normally a fan of blatantly-visible makeup, I had to admit it worked on Selena.
Selena's got a nice smile too, with perfect teeth... even though she doesn't show it often.
All of this left me with the impression that Selena was professionally attractive. In other words, she was easy on the eyes, but only in the way that reception-room pictures are. Pleasant, but not worth an extended stare.
Yet, despite this, I was attracted to Selena anyway. I still imagined what sex with her might be like, and wondered how a man might seduce a woman like her in the first place.
Even later, when I discovered that Selena had much more going for her physically than I first suspected, it was mere icing on the cake.
It was hard to tell with her loose shirts, but Selena was somewhat flat-chested—a B-cup at best. And from what little I'd managed to see, her ass seemed equally underwhelming.
