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Danielle checked the time on the clock in the front of Davis's history lecture, waiting with bated breath to receive her graded paper. Since the time she'd been to Professor Davis's apartment, they had communicated with each other only via her essays. She'd handed in a paper per week for the last three weeks, and after grading them, Davis would transcribe quotes from great writers, along with the time to meet him back at his apartment.
She would always find quotes to write back to him in a personal note attached to the back of her essay. Her last was one of her favorites from Anais Nin: "I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naive or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman." She wondered what response he had in store for her.
As usual, she found it unbearable to be seated in Davis's class, with a room full of undergraduate women drooling over his every word. Danielle spent the entire lecture remembering how her Professor's nakedness felt against her, the scent of his musk combined with the bound leather books of his library invading her senses. She tried in vain to focus on his words, when all she could do was feel smug with the knowledge that Davis would be touching her very, very soon.
"So next class, I will give you a study guide for the midterm to help stimulate a deeper thinking of the literature," Davis said, his tone signaling their time had expired. "Don't forget to pick up your papers from my desk before you leave."
Danielle waited with feigned calmness in her seat as two hundred of her classmates rose and lunged for the front of the room to reclaim their essays. As the hall vacated slowly, Danielle joined them in queue for their teacher's desk. Her pulse quickened when she saw Davis patiently responding to his students' questions. Danielle approached his desk, trying to locate her paper within the alphabetized piles. The idea that Davis's private words to her were waiting amid other students' papers made her feel bold and slightly dangerous. And she liked it. Perhaps more than she should.
She leafed through the essays until she found her name and title on the cover page, and stole away to the side with it. On the very last page, he'd quoted Ovid: "We are always striving for things forbidden, and coveting those denied us." Underneath it, he'd written "7." Danielle stifled a grin, sure that the hour before meeting him at his place was more than sufficient to complete her surprise for him.
~~~~~
Davis had barely an hour after his class to rush back home and make sure everything was in its place for Danielle's arrival. He craved the feel of her supple skin beneath his fingertips, her luminescent blue eyes silently communicating with him when he tried to focus on his teaching. These past few weeks had rejuvenated him, made him feel young and reckless, invincible. All because of Danielle, her fresh perspectives on life and her pliant body warming his bed for as many stolen hours as they could find. When she'd quoted Anais Nin, he'd felt challenged to make her feel like a woman in a way she'd never experienced before. After much thought, he'd devised a surprise he hoped she'd relish, because he most certainly would.
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