Jenna had a huge crush on her Creative Writing professor, even though he'd never used that title in class ever. He'd insisted on his students calling him Mr. Colin, Christopher or just Chris, his first name. But Jenna couldn't quite get comfortable enough to do that.
Plus, she found it undeniably...hot. Professor. Every time she'd raise her hand to ask a question or approach his desk for something near the front of the small auditorium style room at the community college, she'd feel her face flush slightly. Close enough to smell his body deodorant, his subtle yet musky masculine cologne and breathing the same air made the nipples on her small perky breasts tighten to achy big bullet tips.
She'd feel those pink fleshy folds between her slender thighs grow moist, damp...achy. Jenna resisted such lurid fantasies of...him. Being with him. Undressing her slowly. First with his eyes and then his big gentle but rough hands. Touching her, kissing her, before he...
But Jenna would always stop those purely sexual fantasies from going further lest she moan aloud. She'd bite her lip and stifle it. He could never know. Trembling ever so slightly, she'd just smile and retreat back to her desk after she got her question answered. And Professor Colin would always smile back with his intense gray green eyes and long gray hair pulled back into a neat ponytail.
Jenna wasn't a virgin but hadn't much sexual experience since her first serious boyfriend in high school and a few others. The sex had been awkward, much too fast mostly, even if she'd cum sometimes. Then he'd cheated on her for another sluttier more adventurous girl (a blonde cheerleader with big boobs, no less) and Jenna had sworn off boys for a while. She'd graduated and began attending college. Briefly, she'd wondered if she should experiment with being bi, but decided not to. She liked guys.
Even when home alone in her dorm room when with her other roommates were out doing things, she'd never allow her sexual fantasies of him to completely take over. Even when she was naked in the shower. She'd start to touch her smallish breasts, pinching her nipples with one hand while her other hand slid down her trim belly to her aching pussy...but no, she always stopped. Sure, masturbating to him would be a fun hot release but it would only serve to drive her more crazy for him when she attended his class. Being close to him and knowing she couldn't be with him.
Because she'd seen the ring on his finger. Her professor was a married man. Forbidden.
Besides, Jenna had no idea if he even noticed her beyond being one of his many female students. Sure, she was the pretty dark haired girl and got noticed by the opposite sex, but she was kind of quiet and shy and bookish, nor did she dress provocatively to get noticed like many college girls did. Certainly there were others in her class that maybe caught his eye more than her. But she was sure her professor didn't think like that. He always seemed friendly, yet professional, and always focused on his curriculum and lectures.
Yet...a few times when she'd look up over at him, Jenna thought she'd noticed him looking at her. He'd smile, nod, and look back over at his notes. The few times that happened had made her face flush, her nipples harden and her sex grow moist. Achy.
Fuck. Jenna couldn't stop thinking about him and feeling a little ashamed and embarrassed for these deep, unrelenting, and inappropriate thoughts and feelings. If she'd ever get alone with him for a few moments, like after class or in his office, she'd be do nervous yet so...aroused. Even if he did suddenly express a desire for her, even being married, she'd probably freeze up, unable to speak. Or maybe she'd pass out. If either of those things occurred he'd surely be totally put off by her. Turned off by her.
If only he'd been some older less attractive man, she thought. Balding and short. With Coke bottle glasses that made his watery eyes bulging and...
Jenna stifled a giggle. Thank God that wasn't the case. She'd originally signed up for his class because he was sort of a local celebrity. An actual published author of several horror novels but nothing nearly as popular as Stephen King, whom he cited as his biggest influence. Still, she'd been curious and bought one of his books. Definitely dark and scary stuff and surprisingly...sexual. She was mostly a fantasy reader and wanted to become a published author one day. Ever since she was a little girl and fell in love with reading that had been her silly dream, anyway. She'd written short stories and poems and had been working on her first fantasy novel for a couple years now. She took his class because she wanted to hone her craft.
But lately she'd been consumed with him and not so much on her writing, except for her class assignments.
Jenna sighed. She definitely needed to spend more time on her book. Sometimes when she'd sit down at her laptop and go over what she'd last worked on (she had well over 120k words, which wasn't unheard of when it came to sprawling fantasy epics), Jenna would get overly critical and somewhat depressed. Thinking she was a terrible writer. That it was all crap. But she knew that wasn't the case, she just needed to "soldier on" and finish it. She could always go back and revise it, edit it, and polish it.
Class ended for the day and she gathered up her things, stuffing them into her knapsack. As she got up and followed her classmates towards the door, Professor Colin called out to her.
"Jenna, may I speak with you for a moment please?"
Her heart nearly stopped. Was she in trouble? Did her last writing assignment really require a private conversation or something? Maybe he thought she was terrible...and she began to tremble all over.
"Yes, Professor Colin?" He smiled over at her as the rest of the students filed out.
"Please call me Christopher or Chris. I've never gotten used to that title and never will," he replied as he stepped over to her after he gathered up his soft leather shoulder bag. "Besides, Professor makes me think of tweed jackets with leather elbow patches and a penchant for smoking pipes." He chuckled and shook his head.
Jenna only smiled and tried to look away as he sidled up to her. God, he smelled good. She wore a bra but wondered if her stiffened nipples were visible beneath her blouse.
"I had this psych professor in college. A million years ago," he told her. "He looked the part. Tweed coat and bearded and smelled like pipe tobacco. He'd just ramble on and on in class. Nice, smart guy but one of those types. An insufferable prick, in other words."
Jenna giggled. Then blushed when he fixed her with his smile and intensely piercing gaze. Fuck. He was handsome up this close and that ache below her belly, between her thighs intensified.
"Would you walk with me to my office, so we can talk? Unless you have another class..."
