Another day was done. I was a simple graduate student, a first year seeking a Master\'s degree straight out of under-grad. I was teaching my first grouping of classes. These classes were a joke for all, the students, the teachers – everyone. No one wanted to take them, and certainly no one wanted to teach them, except that they paid the bills. Life as a graduate student is not easy. Money needs to come from somewhere, and that somewhere, for me, was three basic public speaking classes.
So today, like every other day, I managed to muddle through. I droned on, not really sure if I was an awesome, abysmal, or merely an adequate instructor. My students always looked at me with blank faces. It could have been that they were taking in everything, or perhaps it was all fluttering by. Maybe it was just that the classes were first thing in the morning.
I had just given out the grades for the persuasive speech assignment. It was worth 20% of the final grade, so in the scheme of things, it was a pretty big deal. Following class the usual mob clustered around with questions. It wasn\'t until the group had thinned, that I noticed her.
She stood waiting, blonde-bombshell to the core. Her head was held with a confidence that I might later think of as steely resolve. For now, though, it made me bite my lip and swallow. I was locked in. Her tongue was at play, tentatively licking moist, pink lips. Follow the thought downward and I came to the gentle slope of her neck that spilled into two swelling bounties encased in a powder blue sweater. Time stopped, as I took the moment to imagine several \"what ifs?\" But then the moment was gone.
I tried to avert my eyes and I felt desperately wrong. This was a student, an 18-year old college freshman, blissfully innocent of the thoughts at work in my head. I had certainly entertained them before. It is easy to do in the moments before sleep, while grappling with oneself for a few jolts of unbridled pleasure. It was also easy to do from afar, while listening to speeches or administering a quiz. She couldn\'t possibly feel my eyes then, probing delicately under clothes. Right? But this was different. She stood before me, brazen and unafraid, commanding me to look while not allowing me to gaze how or where I wanted. That was the difficulty. How do I interact with her, my student, when my unspoken desires had carried me so much further?
One by one, I answered the class\'s questions until I was alone with her. I turned to face her, and was hit by the gentle scent of raspberry. I could hear the florescent lights humming above, and feel their cold radiance reflecting off the white tile floor. The door closed and we were alone.
\"Jessica, what can I do for you?\"
Jessica then let him know what he could do for her...
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