Amber Jordan was by no means a bad student. As a computer science major, she excelled at most of her classes. Some things like maths came naturally to her, much to the envy of her classmates. She could ace her calculus exam with a few hours of studying, breeze past the algorithms test without breaking a sweat. However, there was one course that was about to be her downfall.
Every student was required to take elective courses from a branch outside of their own faculty. Most students translated that into picking a course from the ones unofficially labelled as the easy A classes. The ones with the professors who are well aware of the reason behind the wide selection of students registered for the course and see no problems with giving them all full marks. The professor doesn't do any work and the students get a boost on their GPA. Both parties are happy.
Amber, on the other hand, had used a completely different metric when deciding on her elective course for the semester: the attractiveness of the instructor. Her intention had not been that to start with. She was merely browsing through the course catalogue when she stumbled upon his profile.
Alexander Pierce.
Without even reading the syllabus of the course, she registered for it and immediately delved into daydreams about the man. Standing at a full 190 cm, the 40-year old was sculpted of muscles that begged for release from the spotless shirts he wrote to every lecture. His blue eyes were like lasers, seeing through meat and bone into the soul of the lucky person worthy of having his attention and his hair was always meticulously jelled back, away from his high cheekbones and full lips.
Amber sat in the front row, pen and paper ready to be filled with notes, but got distracted every time. The first week, it was the mere existence of the man and the fact that he was as good-looking, if not better, than she had imagined in her head. The following week he had brought along a water bottle that he sipped freely from throughout the lecture, giving her a full show with the way his throat tensed with every sip. The next week he rolled up his shirt sleeves and revealed toned forearms, one of them decorated with tattoos. The next was the fateful week where he spilled water on his shirt and went through with the lecture wearing a see through material that did nothing to hide the toned set of abs forming his stomach. Week after week, it was something else that bared another part of the professor to Amber and week after week, she found herself not listening to a single word and leaving the lecture hall wearing an uncomfortably soaked pair of panties.
Eventually, this level of distractedness resulted in failed tests and unanswered questions. She could not even study in her free time as every sentence she read brought forward memories of Mr. Pierce and caused her brain to have a meltdown. So, when her test results came they were accompanied by a note from the man himself.
"Next Monday, my office, 6 pm."
Simple, to the point, utterly and completely maddening.
Amber spent the rest of the week agonising over what was going to happen. Was she getting kicked out of the class? Had he noticed the depraved thoughts going on in her head and decided to berate her for them? Did he report her to the dean? Day after day, she got more and more worried until she reached the point of shaking with nerves. She hadn't told any of her friends about the meeting, too embarrassed to admit that she was flunking a class due to her attraction towards the professor. Her endless, limitless, soul crushing attraction that haunted her dreams. She gave them a weak excuse of running a study group for one of her upcoming exams, ignoring the looks she got for her carefully chosen outfit.
With no information on whether her academic career was on the line or if she was only going to be scolded for not studying harder and given a motivational speech, she focused her clothing choice on the fact that she was about to spend an undefined amount of time, alone, in a closed room with the man she thought of every time she turned on her vibrator for the past two months. And then she changed her outfit three times, each time reminding herself that this person was also her professor and had the power to prevent her from graduating.
Eventually, she ended up with a plaid skirt that she might have bought with him in mind and wore to class more than once, a simple v neck sweater to keep the outfit from straying too much into the porn costume category and a pair of boots with the smallest of heels in a weak attempt to bring her height closer to the professor's. She curled her hair, having to take multiple breaks to avoid burning her cheek and showing up at his office with blisters on her skin. All in all, it took her a total of 4 hours to reach something she deemed appropriate enough for a professor but attractive enough for a man whose approval she desperately sought even though she knew it would never come in the way she desired.
Half an hour later, exactly at 6 pm on the dot, Amber knocked on Mr. Pierce's door. She had enough time to take two deep breaths and run through her apology speech detailing her plan to do better for the final exam once before she heard his voice through the door.
"Come in, Miss Jordan."
After allowing herself three more seconds, Amber pushed down the handle and opened the door. She entered with her eyes on the ground, following an imaginary path until her feet approached his desk. Amber's head slowly lifted, giving her the first glimpse of the man her eyes constantly searched for whenever she was on campus. He wore another one of his shirts today, light blue and perfectly matching his eyes. His tie was spotless as usual, in a classic knot that sat close to his neck. Even though Amber couldn't see his body below his torso, she knew that he would have a belt that matches his shoes and the band of the watch around his wrist. He rotated through three watches, each one coming with their own set of accessories.
Standing in silence, Amber found herself unable to meet her professor's eyes. In class, she was free to take in the man's full glory as she wished since he was always too entranced with their topic of the week to notice one of his students drooling in the front row. Today, the roles were reversed. She was the one on display, her hands nervously laced together behind her back and her teeth chewing on her bottom lip. Seconds ticked by during which neither of them said anything. There was no sound in the room, only the faint footsteps coming from the hallway separated from them by a door. It took her maybe a minute of standing there to realise that she had a speech prepared and one more to prepare herself mentally to deliver it.
"Mr. Pierce, allow me to start by saying how much I regret not studying harder for the test. I understand now that I should have spent more ti-"
"Do you understand that you need to pass this course to graduate, Miss Jordan?"
Her words by cut off by his deep voice, spoken as if he were the one to break the silence, as if she had never opened her mouth at all.
"Yes, yes, Sir, I do. That's why I have already prepared a schedule to catch up with t-"
"And you do understand that you need to graduate if you want to continue your career in computer science?"
"Yes, Mr. Pierce, of course I do."
"So tell me, why did I have to summon you to my office to talk about a less than satisfactory exam grade when all your other professors give you glowing reviews?"
He asked around about me, was the first though that went through Amber's head. The fact that he had found out which courses she had taken and spoken to her professors about her was enough to make her dizzy. Even though it required no more than a few clicks of his mouse to reach her transcript and the reason he spoke to her professors was to confirm whether she was as bad in her other courses as she was in his.
"I'm sorry, Sir. I had a lot of assignments from my other courses and did n-"
