AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He needs to remember that this is a professional relationship, and respect is key. What is anyone going to think if he won’t even look at me for gods sakes? And then to question my ethics? Where the hell is the Noah I know?
His knuckles turn white, and I cross my arms. “Seriously, what is going on? This can’t be about the other night. We have discussed this.”
He cocks his neck. “Yes, we have, but right now, I’m trying to keep myself from crossing this desk and kissing you. So, yes, Leslie. I’m trying to restrain myself and not give in to the idea of taking you on this desk,” he says, in a low raspy growl.
“And that is exactly what you told me to steer clear of. How am I supposed to do that with you talking to me like that?” I fan myself.
Even with him acting like an ass, my mind is still playing a daydream of him in between my legs as I sit on his desk. I won’t lie; it’s always been a fantasy of mine, but not necessarily at college, more like an in home office.
He hands me some worksheets and asks me to place one on every desk before class. I take them and get up from my chair. “You know, I didn’t think you were going to treat me like this. You’re being an asshole. Restraining yourself or not.”
I turn my back toward him and start for the door, until I feel him grab my arm. It lights a spark, as I spin around to face him, looking up at him through my lashes. His stern look makes me want to get on my knees, and help relief some of his stress, but the door is open.
“I’m sorry. This is a first for me. Just trying to be professional and unbiased is all,” he says, caressing my arm, but looking at the door.
“Future reference, if you are going to grab me and spin me around, you better have something better to say or do next time,” I say, lightly grazing my hand on the bulge in his pants. “If you don’t want to daydream about you fucking me in this office, be a little nicer, professor.”
As I turn around, he leans into my back and whispers to me. “How much I would love to fuck you in my office, Ms. Haddon. Maybe in five months’ time. Have a good day.”
My knees become weak and I walk out of his office and up to the lecture hall. My panties are wet, and my arousal is eating away at me. Fuck! Instead of putting out the worksheets, I make a bee-line for the bathroom and take care of myself. There is no way I could handle sitting through Noah’s class under this condition.
Professor Mills wants to fuck me on his desk. I can’t fucking wait.
10
NOAH
What the hell is this woman doing to me? I know better than to act this way, especially when anyone could walk by and see. The bulge in my pants is noticeable, and I can’t go to class looking like this. My office is a safe zone, and I can’t let her get me all worked up. My mind needs to stay out of the gutter, and focus on being professional even when around her. It only takes one person to see us together, and assume the wrong thing, and my career will go down the drain.
I know she needs this assistant position, but the first day going like this isn’t a good sign. Granted, it’s not her fault I can’t keep myself from getting a fucking boner with her close to me. Leslie doesn’t deserve to be screwed over because of my issues. I think it’s best if we don’t meet in my office anymore. Keeping myself in line is going to be harder than I anticipated, and it only takes once to screw everything up.
I close the office door, lock it, and sit down in my chair. There is no way I’m going into the lecture hall during this conundrum. My mind still won’t let her go. She takes over my dreams. It’s like my mind wants what it can’t have. Leslie is off fucking limits. I know that, and yet it’s still hard as hell to see her here. Why can’t I just push her out of my head?
The lasting effects of Leslie are still going, and this bulge in my pants isn’t going to go away. There is only one way to take care of this, and I don’t have a choice. I close my eyes and imagine her here again. Her beautiful body will look ravishing splayed out on my desk, with me between her legs. The moans erupt from her throat, and yell my name.Noah!This office isn’t soundproof, but I will use my hand to muffle her, until she spills for me.
I unbutton my pants, and work myself, thinking of her soft hands instead of my own. Her lips are even better.Fuck, Leslie.She is a rarity, and the fact that she is able to read me from the beginning, makes it even more monumental. I continue pumping myself, daydreaming about her on my desk, against the bookshelf, and when I finally get my release and open my eyes, the hunger to have her again is overwhelming. My hand isn’t enough. I need her.
Have I always craved sex this much? Something about Leslie is leaving me craving her, and it’s like a drug. Just trying to get by until my next fix. Five months is a long time, and my mind can only take me so far. Eventually, I’m going to need the real thing again.
Leslie is a fucking masterpiece. She’s intelligent, gorgeous, and sassy. The little bit of attitude I’ve seen from her, only makes me want her even fucking more. It’s been a while since I have been able to indulge in my fantasies, and Leslie would look stunning in a leather outfit holding a whip. I lick my lips. Oh the things I’m going to do with her when the time comes.
I clean myself up, and then stuff my laptop into my bag, and head to the lecture hall. When the double door opens, she is walking around the room, putting the worksheets on each desk just as I asked.Good girl.She takes a minute to stop and look at me before continuing. She has no idea I just took care of myself.
I travel down the aisle, step down to my desk, and unload my bag onto the desk. Today we are discussingGreat Expectations, and I’m interested to see her input. Of course, I have to make it not obvious, so she won’t be the first person I call on. Hope she did her homework.
Students file in and take their seats, but don’t seem happy when they find the sheets on their desks. I don’t know why they think classes are easy. If anything, they get harder the closer to graduation they get. It seems no one wants to work hard in their last semester, but they have another thing coming in my class. So many people don’t take college seriously, but they need to. A college degree isn’t required for all jobs, but without one these days, it’s hard to get a decent job anywhere. In my parent’s time, college graduates were rare, and if you had a degree, that meant you were wealthy already. Now, with all the federal grants, it’s easier for everyone to get a higher education, but not everyone is willing to work for it.
I like the students that are hungry. Usually, it’s the ones that have everything to lose. There have been students that I have had the privilege of teaching that worked their asses off to graduate. They didn’t want to be stuck in their small town, or working at a dead end job. These are the students that work the hardest. Most of the students this semester seem like the other type. The ones where their parents are making them go to college, and they don’t actually have any idea what they want to do with their life, so they are just doing what they are told. So, their enthusiasm toward their grades isn’t there.
As a professor, it’s my job to know which type my students are, and help them succeed. Every semester is different, and sometimes I get lucky and will have more of the hungry type than the slackers. I’m not so lucky today.
“Seriously? What are we in the second grade?” a student says, picking up the worksheet and looking at it.
“Indeed, Mr. Winchester. If you can’t fill out this worksheet, then you obviously didn’t do your homework, and that's your first F. Congratulations,” I reply.
When I give out homework, it’s imperative that they do as I say, because participating in class discussions is twenty-percent of their grade. It might not seem like a lot, but when you only get C’s on your papers, that twenty-percent can make or break you graduating.
There is still a few minutes left before class starts and as more students arrive the hall becomes loud. Students carrying on conversations, the door opening and closing every few seconds, and students getting their supplies out of their backpacks. I look around the room to find where Leslie is now sitting, and my eyes land in the third row. But that’s not all they find. There is a gentleman talking to her, and she is smiling. I take a deep breath, because a small amount of jealousy starts.She’s a student. Remember that.
