All characters are over 18 years of age.
Special thanks to Zenmackie.
Editor: LaRascasse.
An audio version will be made in the near future.
*****
Mr. Aguilera
Chapter 1
I was sitting in Math class like I always did on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. Mr. Aguilera was teaching us about derivatives. I was sitting in the second row closest to the board; my friend Miriam beside me with her short, orange-ish hair and skinny jeans. I was wearing a blue dress with pockets, almost down to the knee, black leggings, and white flats. Summer was starting so the heat was slowly rising.
Lectures were exhausting and long; the subject was complicated and tedious. It was hard for me to concentrate because I couldn't stop staring at him; his beautiful face, perfect eyes, nice body, and deep voice. The few silver hairs he had suited him very well.
When I first saw, him he didn't really catch my attention. It wasn't till after a few lectures that I started noticing his sensuality and manliness.
I never wanted his lectures to end; I could stare at him continuously trying to catch his glance and scream at him with my eyes how much I liked him. On more than one occasion, he caught me looking at him and seemed unable to look away, which of course was great news for him. I was almost certain that he thought about me as well. Days kept passing and I grew even more desperate. I thought about him day and night, fantasizing, desiring, and wanting him. He was very, very attractive in every way.
Eventually, on a warm October morning, I noticed something different about him. While imparting his lecture his eyes didn't leave mine, not even for a second. It seemed as if he was teaching only me. I, of course, wanted to play innocent, acting as if I didn't notice. I moved my head away and took notes of what he was saying, and then looked up only to meet his gaze. Such desperate moments. I had to control my ridiculous immature joy to not make my obsession with him obvious.
More days passed by and the gaze crossing-game continued.
Eventually, my friend Miriam and I had some homework to do but we couldn't figure out how to graph the standard deviation of a concentration graph.
"Let's go ask Aaron," I suggested.
Aaron was Mr. Aguilera's name.
"Great idea! Let's go, we really need help."
Every girl in campus liked Mr. A. He was an ideal man; relatively tall, manly, smart, and charming. He seemed to know that the girls in campus liked him. We walked to a big office building across our classroom building and got onto elevator, to the fourth floor, entered the chemistry office and walked down a long hall, surrounded by wooden walls. We read the name tags on each door searching for "Aaron Aguilera," until we found it.
"Knock," I told Miriam, and she did.
A deep voice from inside nicely responded, "Yes?" and we walked in.
Miriam entered first as I followed her.
"Hello Mr., we need help with graphing. Are you busy?" I said politely.
"No, no come on in."
There were only two chairs in his office, the one he was sitting on and another one right in front of his desk for others to sit on. Miriam and I both sat on that chair, sharing the space. She handed over her laptop to Mr. A. While he checked the graph, he asked us questions such as "Have you had a lot of lectures today?" and "Do you have more lectures later today?" and "How did you do on the test that I haven't checked?" always glancing up occasionally to look at us while we responded.
I loved looking at him, his beautiful smile which drove me crazy. He responded my glance when he had a chance.
"Mr. Aguilera, how old are you?" Miriam suddenly asked.
I looked at her worried, thinking to myself 'How rude!'
"Hahaha, well you should not ask that. But I'll let you figure it out. I finished college in 1995, and entered college in 1989 when I was 17."
I immediately made the calculations and estimated about 44 years old. I was 23 but couldn't have cared less, he was perfect in every way.
I didn't say anything. My friend didn't say anything either, she just smiled. He finished helping us and we left, smiling and waving goodbye. More days passed by and my desire kept growing and growing. I was already fantasizing about him, thinking about him while touching myself.
'I want him to notice me...' I thought to myself.
A few weeks went by and I started noticing new things about him such as when I went to class with my hair up, he wouldn't look at me as often; but when I went with my hair down he would stare at me during lecture. The same happened with clothes. He apparently really liked blue. So, I started using my hair down a lot more, dressing cute but not too provocative and wearing all shades of blue. I was desperate for his attention and in my head, my attempts were working.
Whenever he saw me he smiled and greeted me with enthusiasm. What was curious to me was that he never mentioned my name. He referred to me as "you" only. I thought that maybe he didn't remember my name, understandable considering he sees many students in one day. That made me a little sad. I also thought that maybe avoiding my name decreased the chance of a more formal and close relationship, giving him the illusion that things wouldn't go further on. Was he trying to avoid a naughty desire of his?
About a month went by and I was done. I had to do something about how hot I was for him, I couldn't take it any longer. I was almost positive that he had interest in me so I made up my mind. I was going to look for a way to spend more time with him and make my interest in him obvious.
He worked on a specific project in a laboratory at my university and I also knew that it was common for students to approach teachers and ask them for permission to work on a sort of internship with them. This would help students learn more, advance quicker in their studies, and of course, spend more time with that specific teacher. Yes... that's exactly what I wanted to do.
I wrote him an email, proof-reading it several times to make sure it was perfect and polite. In the e-mail, I stated my interest in having an internship with him because I liked what he was working on in the lab, and if it would be okay for me to meet up with him and discuss the matter personally. I clicked send on a Tuesday night.
On Wednesday night, I didn't have an answer yet, but I hadn't seen him on campus either so I assumed he maybe had fallen ill or something else. On Thursday morning, there was no answer yet but I had a lecture with him.
'Well, maybe he wants to discuss it face to face after the lecture,' I thought.
I sat there waiting anxiously for the end of class, fidgeting my fingers as he spoke. He never looked at me. I felt invisible.
When the lecture ended, he didn't say anything. I got a little sad and angry.
'Is he avoiding me? Did I actually send the e-mail?' I thought.
Friday came and still no answer. That was it for me. I had to have an answer, not only because I was interested in him, but also because I hated not receiving a response, in my mind it was a rude thing to do.
So, at 11:30am on Friday I hasted to his office, went into the big building, got on the elevator pressing the number four, entered the office section, and walked down the long hall searching for his name. I first looked to see if the door was unlocked (that usually meant that the teacher was in there), and it was. I knocked.
About ten seconds went by and he said, "Come on in."
I opened the door, "Excuse me Mr. are you busy?"
He was crouched down organizing some papers in a drawer. When he got up and noticed it was me, the student who is constantly looking at him with lustful eyes, he immediately got up and said, "Oh, hello. How are you?"
"Good, thanks, and you?"
"I'm fine, thank you," he responded smiling and looking at me.
"I came to ask about the e-mail I sent you a couple of days ago; you never replied."
"Oh, yes I read it, it's right here," he said as he started to search his computer nervously, but couldn't find it.
