Yes, Professor
Lainey-Jo Charles
David Monroe can’t seem to keep his thoughts off his assistant Shellie. Her high heels invite his gaze to run the length of her toned legs. Her prim skirts inspire wicked thoughts of what they conceal. Everything about her provokes his basest needs and stirs desires he’s never admitted to anyone—even himself. When Shellie enters his office one night after work, knowledge and lust darkening her eyes, she pushes David to not only voice his every fantasy, but make them a reality.
An EC for Men contemporary erotica story from Ellora’s Cave
Yes, Professor
Lainey-Jo Charles
Dedication
To the love of my life…
Chapter One
The last day of the spring semester, before the relative peace and quiet of the summer sessions, was supposed to be uneventful. Instead, utter chaos greeted David Monroe as he entered the outer office area of the math department.
A clerical error from the admissions office had forced many students to get their credit transfer papers signed all over again, which meant the outer office was packed with students standing, sitting and leaning everywhere, including the doorways to professors’ offices, his as well.
He scanned the room, searching for the department secretary. Shellie’s blonde hair usually made her easy to pick out, even in a crowd. His gaze bounced around until he found her in the one spot where chaos wasn’t allowed to reign—her desk.
Standing quietly inside the main door, he watched as she took the papers from the students. Her confident tone—tempered by her Southern drawl—directed the students on their next actions. As each student completed their tasks, Shellie took the papers and stacked them neatly in a folder, which he figured he’d be getting from her later to go through and sign.
Her efficiency and attention to detail turned him on. Hell, everything about her turned him on, but her quiet confidence in what she could do—even starting so late in the year—had him appreciating her even more than what her physical package presented. And her body was the very definition of knockout in his book.
She wasn’t very tall, but the heels she wore each day gave her enough extra height that she held her own amongst the tallest of the college students. The other day she’d had three of the graduating basketball players hanging on her every word and David had found himself jealous of them having all her attention.
But she was off-limits to him and he needed to move on from those thoughts. Even as he tried to convince himself of that, he watched her and took in her appearance. She wore her long blonde hair a different way each day. Some days she’d wear it in a bun and his dreams on those nights had him unraveling the bun while he pumped into her.
Other days she wore her hair back in a sleek ponytail and his dreams on those nights were filled with twisting the ponytail around his hand while he took her from behind. And on the rare days she wore her hair down, falling over her shoulders and around her face, those nights’ dreams always had David running his fingers through her hair, finding out that it was even softer than he’d imagined.
Today she had it loosely pulled back in a clip. Some strands had already escaped their confines, tumbling down the base of her neck and around her face.
His body and mind wanted her, and he locked his muscles down tight so he wouldn’t go to her. She called to him on a very basic level and he spent each night dreaming of her.
Shellie moved and he watched her legs show off their long lines. The lower portion of her quads were visible just above her knees and below the hemline of her skirt and damn, the woman worked out. She had amazing definition and he hadn’t even seen her fully naked.
Not that he was ever going to see her naked. Nope, wasn’t going to happen. Except in his dreams, of course. But they didn’t count. And now that he had a hard-on, he really needed to pull his thoughts away from their current path.
Shellie bent over to pick something up and his entire view zeroed in on her ass. It filled his vision and he could imagine having his hands on those hips…
A student not watching where he was going as he turned to leave slammed his backpack into David’s gut. David forcefully exhaled on an “oof” and wrapped his arm around his lower ribs. Who needed floating ribs anyway?
“Oh sorry, Dr. Monroe.”
David straightened, not wanting to come off as a complete wuss in front of a student. Damn textbooks. “Not a problem. Have a good summer.”
The kid took off running down the hall.
As David turned back to Shellie, he caught her eye and his insides deflated. His observation time was up. He’d have to let his imagination fill in the rest of whatever it wanted to conjure up once he got to the sanctuary of his office.
He stopped by the water cooler to fill up his glass, then with a nod to Shellie, he stalked across the outer office, made a motion for the student blocking his doorway to move and shut the door behind him. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d even been holding.
Shellie had been working for the department for six weeks, ever since their previous secretary had retired to take care of her ailing husband. The first time David had laid eyes on Shellie, everything in his body had gone on alert. The first time he’d heard her accent, he was a goner.
The fact that she was only supposed to fill in for a week, maybe two, until a replacement could be hired had saved David’s sanity at first. But then when two weeks turned into three, followed by four, he’d begun feeling like a drowning man.
He wanted her. Desperately.
So he’d done everything he could think of to keep her at arm’s length. He wanted to make sure she’d never allow anything to happen, never allow either one of them to cross a line that would put them both in trouble.
But the more he’d picked on her, the more she’d watched him, paid more attention to him. His teasing had the opposite effect of what he was trying for, and he didn’t want to go the route of downright rudeness or digs, since that could bring on a whole other set of problems.
Wait a minute. This was like fourth grade. Did she realize the guy picking on her was the guy who liked her? Did she like him back? Why else would she ignore his attempts to push her away? No. That wasn’t possible—they were both adults in the real world.
He walked over to his desk, set the glass of water down and plopped into his chair. He set his laptop bag on his side table and opened it to get out the last of the test papers he needed to grade.
He glared at the stack of blue books and his shoulders slumped.
He was tired. Tired of this semester. Tired of fighting his attraction. Tired of being alone. Tired of all the administrative crap he’d inherited when he’d become vice-chair of the math department.
He needed to grade the damn senior essays he’d made them write and he had a deadline for turning in the final results. He’d overheard many of his students calling him all sorts of choice names and the biggest complaint was that they were math majors, not English majors, so they shouldn’t have to write an essay.
That line, or some variation of it, made him laugh every single time he heard it.
He’d written so many papers since graduating with his first degree he’d realized writing and clear communication were just as important to math majors as they were to anyone else.
The blue books mocked him. God, how he didn’t want to begin grading them right then. It was almost five o’clock and his brain was done for the day—heck, the week.
He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and let the image of a certain blonde-haired, green-eyed administrative assistant float through his brain. Picturing her high-heeled shoes coupled with the pencil skirts she wore each day, he slid the clasp open on his pants and eased the zipper down, givin
g his cock more room to expand.
Shellie’s toned calf muscles sprung to his mind, their curves even more defined by the shoes she wore. David had never realized he might be a calf man, but she’d turned him into one. He could only imagine how toned her thighs must be since her ass was nicely showcased by her skirts.
He rubbed his hand along the outside of his boxer briefs as he let his imagination take him down the same path he’d been traveling each night for the past six weeks. Now all he wanted to do was let himself relax and finish the work he needed to get done.
He reached into his boxer briefs and, using a firm grip on his cock, began to slowly stroke himself. He pictured Shellie’s small hand trying to achieve the same pressure, her lips parting in an attempt to take him deep, he heard her lilting voice that tended to drop syllables and ending Gs at times.
Mmmmm. Her voice. It followed him into his dreams and he could see why songs were written extolling the beauty of a woman’s southern accent.
He picked up speed, swiped some of the liquid forming at his slit and spread it with his thumb. His balls tightened—
The door swung open.
“Sorry to bother you, Dr. Monroe. I have a question about which form this particular student needs to have signed.”
His instinct had him quickly removing his hand from his dick, but it was covered with his slickness. He pushed himself farther under his desk, keeping his hand on his leg while he wiped off his pre-come.
Everything about his position screamed kid caught with his hand in the candy jar. If the situation weren’t so serious, he would’ve chuckled. It was much more accurate to say kid caught with his hand down his pants.
His traitorous dick didn’t seem to understand how much trouble he might be in at that very moment. Instead, it relished the forbidden, the dangerous, and to prove such, it grew impossibly more rigid.
Stupid, trouble-making cock.
He grabbed a fax cover sheet with his left hand. Completely inane move. Why would he need a fax sheet? A much more reasonable sheet for him to be holding was sitting on the corner of his desk, but he wasn’t about to move his right hand from its position.
“This particular student took linear algebra and numerical analysis, but the computer science versions, not the math department’s. She’d switched majors to math, but those courses aren’t showing up as being credited toward math requirements.”
Think, think, think.
But not about the soft Rs she makes sound so sexy.
Think work. Right.
He shouldn’t have to get up to find the exact right form. He could describe—
Got it.
“Use the Transfer of Credits form. We’ll transfer the credits from the computer science department to ours.”
“I thought that could only work the other way with that form. That we would sign off on transferring credits to another department, not from.”
Dammit. She was right. But his dick didn’t care. It wanted attention from him, from her, from someone, and it wanted it now. His blood, having drained from his brain to his other head, was not helping his concentration, not helping him do his job.
That did it. The thought of him not even able to do his job made his dick deflate.
“Have the student fill out that form and see if she can get someone from Comp Sci to sign off on it. If not, we’ll figure out exactly which form is needed or I’ll contact someone over there. No matter what, I’ll sign off on the form and maybe that’ll be good enough this time.”
“Thanks, Dr. Monroe. Once again, I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
Shellie quickly hurried out of his office and shut the door behind her.
Ugh.
Why couldn’t he have thought to lock the damn door before he’d stuck his hand down his pants?
Now he was going to spend the next who knew how long waiting to see if she filed some kind of sexual harassment complaint against him. Just what he needed to deal with on top of all the other stress.
David was torn between completing what he’d started—getting himself in a more relaxed state—or letting things go. The stress relief would do him wonders, but furthering the situation wasn’t something he should be willing to risk. “Should” being the key word in his thoughts.
He sighed and glanced at the stack of essays again. What was it about this year that had him dreading tasks he usually enjoyed? Something was different. For one, he wasn’t getting good sleep any longer. Miss Shellie Parker was wreaking havoc on his nighttime fantasies.
Dammit.
Two, he’d never seen himself as a management type. Leading research projects or taking the lead on papers—yes. But actually being responsible for all the different administrative decisions that needed to be made on a daily basis? No.
He’d been quite happy teaching, causing havoc among the students, helping those who struggled with the material. It was an honor to be promoted to the vice-chair position, but he wasn’t ready for it, and the stress of that coupled with having no time to let off any sexual steam except by his own hand was really starting to wear on him.
Cocking his head to the side, he noticed the din of noise from the students had died down considerably. It didn’t sound like anyone occupied the outer office and most of his fellow math professors had already left for the day.
Leaving his shirttail untucked and covering his hand, he reached down to cup his once-again growing erection and fondle his balls. He wouldn’t do anything about stress relief here at the office, but he promised himself at least one release after he got home.
Running his hand along his length one last time, he grabbed the zipper to fasten his pants. A knock sounded on his door while both hands were at his crotch and the office door opened. The pinch of the zipper teeth on his balls had him biting down on his lip to keep from yelling.
Shellie finished dumping the last of the trash the students had left behind in the garbage bin and straightened the stack of papers and files she needed to get to in the morning. She just didn’t have the energy for dealing with them tonight, especially with David—Dr. Monroe—still working.
The last thing she needed was to find herself alone in the office with him. Not that she’d mind. No. One of her unrealistic fantasies was for him to take her on his desk when no one else was around.
But he wasn’t interested in her. Or if he was, he had an immature way of showing it. Creating arguments with her for no reason was ridiculous. He’d leave her a note saying he wanted something done one way, she’d do it and then when she was done, he’d change his mind and she’d have to fix it. Unbelievable. She only needed to add hair pulling or having something thrown at her to get the full effect of elementary school.
Maybe she was on to something with that thought. Maybe he was interested in her but wasn’t sure how to act on the attraction. Maybe he didn’t want to pursue anything with her because she worked for him. Maybe…nah. She was a temp. It wasn’t like he was going to be her boss forever. No, he probably viewed her as a dumb Southern blonde no matter how arduously she worked.
So fine. She was giving up on the dream and would take care of herself with her own hand and favorite assortment of sex toys. She didn’t need a man for that. No, the part she was missing out on was being able to touch a man, to go down on him, to taste him, to feel his nipples become rigid little points beneath her fingernails.
She loved bringing a man pleasure. Too bad a certain professor wasn’t interested in finding out just what she could do for him.
She’d dump the files on his desk for him to deal with and she’d go home. A glass of wine and her clit vibrator sounded really good right about now. Or maybe her favorite double-penetration vibrator. Either one would be perfect in helping her get rid of some of this tension that had built up.
Shellie grabbed the stack of folders, gave a brief knock on Dr. Monroe’s door—she refused to call him David in her mind anymore if all he was going to do was annoy her—and walked in.
“What are y
ou doing here?” His question came out harsh and her field of vision narrowed. Seriously? This was the way he was going to talk to her? If he weren’t her boss and in charge of, oh, most of the department, she’d show him how she handled men who thought they could snap at her all the time.
Hmmm… Maybe she could give him a taste of his own medicine. “I’m here because I’m still working, trying to take care of this department’s students. That is what I’m paid for, right?” He’d pushed her enough this week and her arms tightened around the folders. God. She was dealing with a fourth grader. No. Make that a second grader.
“You do realize it’s after five, right? Don’t you have some place to be? Some boyfriend to annoy? A way to figure out how to add Gs to the ends of “ing” words?”
Her accent? He was going to complain about her accent and ask about a boyfriend? This was so not happening. She was through with him as well as with work for the day.
“You’re in the South now. Get used to hearing the accent. And what business is it of yours if I do or don’t have a boyfriend? Let me answer that for you—none.”
Before he could respond, Shellie heaved the files onto his desk. The papers and blue books contained in the folders continued sliding, their momentum carrying them across the desk until they knocked against the glass of water sitting in the center.
Shellie watched the next event play out in slow motion and yet take place too fast for her to do anything about it. The water sloshed over the rim and the glass tumbled onto its side. Water poured across the desk, heading straight for Dr. Monroe’s lap. He leaped up and back as the liquid spilled from his desk, soaking his groin.
His very exposed groin.
She gasped. The soaked boxer briefs outlined a very sizable erection. Although the combination of shock and what was probably cold water began helping the bulge go down. But there was no way she was going to turn away from an erection so proudly displayed in the open fly of his pants.
YesProfessor Page 1