It always starts the same, with a look. The type of look that catches men when their guard is down and sends them to their knees. The look is bait and without warning you're hooked. It happens every time no matter how hard they try to resist. It happened to James Oliver when he met Amelia Blake in freshman year orientation. It happened to Frank Roe in the middle of his class.
He couldn't resist looking the platinum blonde sitting in the second row of his American Literature class as she took her midterm exam. He slowly looked at her many voluptuous qualities and imagined what could be. He wanted to caress her curls as she pulled them out of her eyes while writing her essay. He gulped as she shifted her legs and adjusted her skirt to cover herself. He was excited by her modesty, if you could call it that.
He watched her off and on in the hour it took her to write about James Joyce, Ulysses and it's allusion to Homer's Odyssey. He could tell the fall heat was getting to her as she whipped the sweat from her heaving chest; she acted the way modesty women should, but the top she was wearing in no way was modest. As the heat began to rise higher and higher he drifted furtherinto fantasy.
There in his bedroom he sat on the bed. She was making her to him, undressing as she walked. A paper slammed on his table as Amelia Blake was unhooking her bra and lowering the straps. It was Amelia turning in her blue book.
"Here you go professor, I bet you'll find the argument titillating."
What a choice of words he though to himself, him sitting in a chair and her bent down to whisper to him exposing more cleavage than he anticipated. It was a good thing he was sitting down as he picked up the essay and flipped through it, every page was full. He tried his hardest but his voice still cracked.
"Thank you, Amelia. Oh, I'm sorry, have a good weekend."
He didn't see it as she walked out, but she definitely smiled as she blatantly adjusted her skirt and underwear outside of the door in his field of vision. But, just because he didn't see it doesn't mean it wasn't seen. James Oliver who'd been done with his exam for more than fifteen minutes had watched the entire exchange from his seat in the far corner of the classroom and made sure to cough loudly when he passed Roe his essay.
Frank was still looking at Amelia's hindparts as she sashayed down the hall and was embarrassed when he was could staring. James knew Frank wanted her and he knew Amelia had wouldn't mind getting a swing at at her professor. He knew it because she told him every chance she could get. Because of this James took it upon himself to emphasize every sarcastic word as he handed off his paper, feeding off of his embarrassment, for the kicks.
"How's it hanging? You could burn a softball-sized whole staring that hard, sir. Catch y'ah later, teach."
He knew thinking about her in that way was wrong, but who was he harming? Sure, he wanted nothing more to take her there and be done with it, but that would be the definition of conflict of interests. He could write it off as a mere crush, a lapse in his better judgement, and put her in his spank bank. It wasn't like anything would every happen between them. After all he was technically still married.
[Continued]
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