I had always been a good student in school. Not really a genius, but smart enough that I very rarely got below a B average. I prided myself on getting my assignments turned in on time, and being a good student. School and studies were something that had always come natural to me.
There is though, always that one class, which is just so tough, not even the smartest person can pass it. It doesn't happen often, but they do come around. Mine came around in my sophomore year of college. And let me tell you, it was a very difficult class.
The class was Elementary Statistics, a mathematics course required to be taken in order to get into the college of education. Granted, mathematics has never been my strong suit. Quite frankly, I can barely multiply 8 x 8 without a calculator. Math was my worst subject and I hated the course with a passion. I had hoped that I could just get away with taking College Algebra, but I found out it wasn't going to be as I had hoped.
I enrolled in an available section, not really paying attention to the instructors of the different sections. I figured, it didn't matter who taught it so long as I hurried up and got it over with. The less time I had to be around anything remotely related to math, the better. It didn't help though that I didn't understand why I had to take it either.
The first day of classes rolled around. I showed up, book in hand, notebook and pencil ready to go and sat in the front as is normal for me with any of my classes. Not only can I pay better attention up front, but it helps me to see the board as well. There were quite a few people in the class, most of them foreign and ignoring me, which didn't bother me in the slightest. I busied myself with looking over the first chapter in the book, while we all waited for the teacher to arrive.
He strode into the classroom two minutes after the final bell, and dropped onto the desk a book and a pad of paper. I was awe struck the moment he walked in the door. He had to be well over six foot tall and probably the blackest man I had ever seen. His muscles were bulging out of his jeans and his sweater and he looked more like he would be better off on a football field than in front of a bunch of college students. His hair was as black as he was except for a few signs of gray that I noticed and he had a kind smile. My heart was pounding in my chest and I could have sworn that my breasts were heaving within the tight confines of my bra and tight blue sweater. He looked at me first and had I been the fainting type I would have fainted right then. He had to have heard my heart pounding or if not that then it could be because I was the only person sitting in the front row.
It was 8 in the morning on a Tuesday, the worst possible time to have a class. "Good morning students. My name is Steven Rhodes, but I want you all to call me Steven. I'm going to tell you right off, that I don't have a syllabus for you. I don't believe in having one." A couple of students groaned at this, but me, I thanked my lucky stars. No syllabus meant not having to work ahead if I didn't want to. He continued, "I also want you to know that this isn't going to be an easy course. Things will be a bit laid back, but we will cover this entire book this semester. It’s my job to teach it to you and it’s your job to learn it. Now then, let's get started shall we?" His white teeth were a beautiful contrast to his dark skin as he smiled almost wickedly at us, picked up a piece of chalk and began his lecture, writing things on the board as he went. It was hard to keep myself focused on taking notes, with his hard body up there, sometimes only inches away from mine. By the time the class was over on the first day, my panties were soaked from desire to have him and my brain was fried from having to work so hard to pay attention rather than daydream. That evening I sat at my desk in my room working on the assignment he had given us. It was very difficult and covered the first two chapters. In between working problems though, I found my mind wandering back to thoughts of Steven. God he was one hunk of a man. He probably had to be in his late forties, but damn he looked good.