It was our junior year of college. My boyfriend and I had been hot and heavy for awhile at this point. Our sex life was good, but predictable. I knew there was more out there to learn and explore and was desperate to find out what I was capable of.
It didn't happen in a way I expected. I was leaving class when you approached me. You were a favorite professor of mine and I had now taken several classes with you. I knew that you liked me as a student, but I was the type that did everything I was supposed to. You approached me about needing some help with some research, saying that the grad students didn't pay enough attention to detail and you needed someone with a good eye to help you out. We set a time to meet the next day in your office so that I could help. I was excited about helping and getting a good grade in the class.
The next day, I walked into your office and was pleasantly surprised. You had a nice set up and it was obvious the University was treating you well. We spent several moments with you explaining your work and then began working together, making pleasant conversation as we worked. Before we knew it, several hours had gone by, and we were still chatting and getting along well. I was so naive, I didn't get the tension that was building between us....
You suggested ordering some food in and we sat and ate and laughed, telling stories and getting to know each other. The more we talked, the more I liked your personality. It was so different chatting with a guy other than my boyfriend. After dinner, I offered to clean up, and thought I'd be done and go home. You worked with me to clean up our mess and as we brushed against each other, we both felt the spark that coursed between us.