What did he just say about the ruins at Ankor Wat? I missed it again. Damn I have trouble concentrating in this class: you would too if you had an archeology professor like Nathan James; if he'd done to you what he did to me last night after tutorial.
I'm watching him know as he walks from one end of the lecture stage to the other, passionately talking about King Suryavarman II and his reign over 12th century Cambodia. But all I'm hearing is the sound of his hot, passionate breath in my ear. He's only thrity-two - young for a professor - and damn he's handsome. You know, in that rugged, academic kinda way. Hell, the thought of him is makin' me hard all over again!
I push back in my chair now. My legs need the room. I feel myself tightening the grip on my pen, pushing harder on the paper now, as I imagine Nathan's bare stomach pressing against my back. I close my eyes and I imagine his strong arms wrapped around my naked torso. I take a deep breath and I can smell his skin, warm and brown and glistening. I tilt my head back and open my mouth, and I can taste his tongue on my lips. I groan softly and I can hear -
"Will, perhaps you'd like to answer that question for us?"
Shit! God! I feel a rush of ecstasy between my thighs as he calls my name! I snap my pen in half. My notes end up all over the floor. And suddenly...
...the entire lecture hall is looking at me!
I'm panting, my face flush. I quickly scoop up my notes and place them over my suddenly wet, bulging crotch. The jeans ain't hiding anything! And all I can do is offer up a feeble, "Question? What question was that, sir?"
Nathan smiles knowingly, then continues with the lesson, adequately amused. Yet I can't help but notice the bulge in his own jeans.
What a smart ass! What a hot ass!