Julian was a student in my American History class at the Mid-Western university, where I am a professor. He was from Norway and had been recruited by the Athletic Department for track and field. He was a handsome young man, about 20 years old, short-cropped blond hair, brown eyes, scruffy reddish-blond beard. He was a good student. He sat on the front row of class. Shorts, t-shirt or hoodie and trainers were his usual attire. It was obvious he was a runner, because he had strong, muscular thighs and well-formed calves, in the way that only runners can have. His legs were covered with the finest blond hair that shimmered when the light struck them the right way.
Julian was a good student. He rarely missed class and was always cheerful and smiling, his beautiful white teeth gleaming. When entering class, he always greeted me enthusiastically with "Good morning, Dr. Ferguson!"
The semester had been going well and we were nearing the end. It was an exam day, one of three I had scheduled that semester. I had passed out the exams, and the students had settled in for the hour it would take them to finish. I sat at my desk and began reviewing material I had prepared for the next week. After 15 minutes I looked up and couldn't believe my eyes. I thought I saw the head of Julian's cock peeking out from the leg of his shorts. Since he sat on the front row with his long legs spread, I had a direct view under his desk top right to his crotch. Julian was writing, apparently oblivious to the fact he was flashing me. I quickly averted my eyes, looking back at my books.
After a few minutes, I glanced discreetly toward Julian again, and to my astonishment, a good two inches of his thick cock was now showing. He was only semi-erect, the dark brown foreskin still covered all but a nickel-sized circle of his dark pink cockhead. I quickly looked away again. I began to think about whether the cock exposure was intentional or a mere accident. My heart began pounding and I felt my own dick begin to thicken in my pants. I heard Julian shift position at his desk. I discreetly looked his way again, and his cock was still there in the same position. I must have been staring unconsciously. I lifted my gaze and met Julian gazing back at me, smiling. At the end of class, Julian turned in his exam. "Thanks, Dr. Ferguson! See you next week."
The semester finished and I didn't see Julian in class again, but ran into him at the Commons a couple of times over the next year. We always exchanged greetings in passing. But that had been the limit of our contact since he had been in my class. It was the end of the spring semester in mid-May. I was at my apartment one Saturday afternoon, relaxing, watching some rugby on TV, when there was a knock at the door. I opened the door and was stunned to find Julian standing there in a tank top, running shorts and trainers.
"Hi, Dr. Ferguson! How's it going?"
"Hello, Julian, I'm-I'm good," I stuttered. "You want to come in"?
Julian came in and sat on the sofa. He had brought with him a rolled up pad, the sort used for yoga. I thought he must have just come from a yoga class.
"So what can I do for you, Julian? What brings you here"? I tried to be nonchalant and hide the fact that I was nervous as hell.
"Oh, I've graduated, and I'll be going back to Norway soon," said Julian.
"Congratulations," I offered.
"I wanted to drop by and thank you for your class. I really enjoyed American history, thanks to you," Julian responded.
"Thanks, I appreciate that," I said.
"But I want to show my thanks in a special way, if you don't mind," said Julian. "Maybe you know that my major was sports physiology. And part of the program was to study massage. I just got my license. So, maybe you would like a massage"? asked Julian, smiling, showing me those beautiful teeth, his eyes gleaming.
"Uh-uh," I stuttered. "Sure, I suppose, why not? Where shall we do it, I mean, how do you..."
"Oh, you can lie here on your coffee table. It will work well. Let me unroll my pad."
I cleared the pile of magazines off the coffee table, and Julian unrolled the mat, spreading it on the coffee table.
"Shall I undress," I barely managed to utter.
"I find it's usually more comfortable if the client is naked," Julian replied.
"Uh, okay," I stammered. I took off my shirt, and slid my pants and underwear down, stepped out of them, and tossed them aside. I was conscious of my dick beginning to thicken and rise.
"Just lie down on the table, on your stomach," Julian instructed.
