My Dirty Professor

by Cassandra Dee

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Evie

  I smooth my skirt and take a deep breath before walking into the classroom. I’m nervous to see Mr. Phillips again. Our romance is still so new. My stomach is doing flips in anticipation. I can’t wait for his warm gaze to land on my curves and make me tingle inside while my pussy grows wet with expectation. So I’d gotten dressed this morning carefully, thinking about his words.

  He’d mentioned like he liked curvy, so this morning, I’d struggled into a snug bodysuit. The tan material hugs my breasts, causing my cleavage to jut out like a prow. My Double D’s look like Double F’s this way, but hey, the big man said big boobs turn him on, and I’m only too happy to please.

  Thoughtfully, I’d picked out a matching skirt. I didn’t want to look too trampy, so I pulled out a pleated number that hit mid-thigh. Sexy but still decent. Hmm, yeah, this will work well. I don’t want to wear shorts or pants because with the bodysuit, all Mr. Phillips will have to do is flip my skirt up, unsnap the buttons under my vagina, and dive right in. There are no extra hindrances, and my crotch is already slightly damp, the nectar beginning to run at the thought of seeing Mr. Phillips again.

  But now, standing outside the classroom, I just want to look normal to the outside world, even though my breath is already coming fast. Oh god, just the thought of seeing Stone again turns me on, and I feel a small smile dancing around my lips as my eyes sparkle. Putting an extra sway into my walk, I sashay into the classroom, my books clutched to my chest. My gaze immediately darts to the teacher’s desk at the back of the room.

  But there’s no sign of the big man. Instead, an appreciative whistle greets me.

  “Lookin’ good, Evie, lookin’ good,” drawls Chip McCreighton, Spencer Prep’s starting quarterback. Any other girl would have giggled with happiness, ecstatic that the Big Man on Campus is paying her attention, overcome that an alpha male is throwing her compliments. But I feel nothing. Chip is overbuilt, like a gorilla from the jungle, and I’m sure he has been using steroids to get that big. Plus, he’s hopelessly juvenile next to Mr. Phillips. His acne stands out, violently red on his neck, and the blue letter jacket looks immature and boyish.

  “Um, hey,” I reply, setting down my books on a desk in the back and frowning. Where is Mr. Phillips? He’s always in the classroom or in his office when I get here; he has another class right before ours. Has he slipped out to use the restroom? Is he catching a break outside somewhere?

  But Janice, our TA, waltzes to the front of the room.

  “Hey, Chip. Hey, everyone,” she greets sultrily, perching on a stool next to the projector. “I’m in charge today. Mr. Phillips had an emergency and asked me to run through the powerpoint with you.”

  I frown. An emergency? Why hadn’t he told me? Oh wait. Maybe he doesn’t have my phone number, so he couldn’t call or text. But still, I’m disappointed and worried. I care about what happens to him, and his not being here is unexpected, and a huge letdown after a weekend of waiting.

  So I drag myself through class, barely able to pay attention. I’d been looking forward to seeing Stone and smiling at him, our little secret in the air between us even more charged because of all of the unsuspecting students milling around. And now, to be going through a powerpoint slide by slide, with Janice literally reading the words verbatim, is a huge letdown. My body deflates and I feel lifeless, the energy seeping out of me with every passing minute.

  Finally, the bell rings and I get up, gathering my stuff. I’m just about to swing my bookbag over my shoulder when a shadow looms over me.

  “Hey, Evie,” growls a deep voice. It’s Chip again, towering over the desk, twice as wide as he should be. The dude works out way too much; he looks more like a bodybuilder than an agile, powerful athlete. But to each his own, so I smile politely.

  “Hey, Chip,” I reply neutrally. I don’t think we’ve ever spoken before; in fact, I hadn’t even realized he knew my name until fifty minutes ago. But hey, there are always surprises in life. Besides, I’m distracted thinking about Stone and where he is.

  “I was wondering if you wanted to grab a burger after school today?” Chip growls, his eyes eating me up. His gaze doesn’t make me feel like I do when Mr. Phillips eyes me. When Stone stares at me, I immediately heat, feeling wanted, aroused, and so turned on that I’m ready to rip my clothes off at his word. But when Chip does it, it’s just okay. Not terrible, but more like stepping into a pool of cool water when you were already cold. Just okay.

  I’m already shaking my head, ready to say no, when I catch a glimpse of Mindy gesturing at me from the corner of my eye. She’s waving frantically while nodding her head up and down, her eyes almost bugging out, mouthing the words “yes, yes.” I frown again. I don’t want to spend time with Chip; he’s nothing compared to Mr. Phillips. I’m already in love, and I’m not going to ‘cheat’ on my lover.

  But Mindy’s words ring in my head again: People will see Stone Phillips as a predator preying on a naïve, young girl.

  You told him you were in love with him? Oh my god, you’ll come off as so vulnerable.

  So, against my better judgment, I nod reluctantly. If this makes people less likely to suspect anything’s going on between me and Mr. Phillips, then I’ll do it. Even if it means suffering through a tortuous fake date.

  “Okay, sure,” I say, plastering a smile on my face. It’s literally painful to twist my lips upward when there’s no sign of a matching twinkle in my eyes. But the lug head jock is no good at reading body language. Instead, Chip just laughs, so self-assured, confident that he’s already won me over.

  “Okay, great! Meet you at Burgers a Go Go on Main and Street at seven tonight,” he commands, throwing me a wink before striding off.

  A feeling of dread overcomes me. I’m reluctant to spend even a half hour in Chip McCreighton’s presence. It’s for sure the right thing to do, though. After all, a ton of people will see me and the jock at Burgers a Go Go; it’s a hangout spot for the Spencer Prep crowd. So the date is a beard of sorts, a red herring. No one will think that I’m into Mr. Phillips – much less suspect that we’re making love illicitly – if I’m seen with the hottest guy on campus. Literally one that dozens of girls want to go out with. In fact, there are already a couple of girls shooting daggers at me now, jealous of my alleged good fortune.

  But still … where is Stone? Where could he be? What was this so-called emergency? I’m worried, and I miss the alpha male, but on the bright side, there’s always biology again tomorrow.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Evie

  I hope the date with Chip isn’t as terrible as I expect it to be. I didn’t bother to change; I’m just going in my bodysuit and pleated skirt, too lazy to freshen up. But that’s apparently the wrong move because Chip’s eyes light up as soon as I step into the burger joint.

  “Hey, hey, hey, you look nice,” he greets, a real smile on his face. Even his eyes are complimentary.

  And I have to smile back. I’d expected him to say something crass and crude like “Yo, yo, yo, lookin’ fine, lookin’ sassy,” but evidently, Chip is better than that. And to my surprise, he pays for my meal as well, whipping out his wallet while we’re standing at the counter.

  “No worries. I can treat my best girl to a burger and fries,” he says, glancing at my tray appreciatively. “I like a girl who eats.”

  At those words, I just smile weakly. That’s one thing Chip has in common with Stone – they like bigger girls. And I certainly fit into that category. In fact, my skirt is feeling a little tight, so I’m careful to drink only half of my milkshake, saving the rest for later. I don’t want to bust out of my clothes unnecessarily – this isn’t the man I want to impress.

  So I chat idly, smiling now and then, but I’m not paying much attention. I’m on auto-pilot. If this date had happened even two weeks ago, it would have been a different story. I would have curled my hair, put on a special outfit, and probably hung off Chip’s every word, listening breathle
ssly and gazing into his eyes with adoration. But instead, I’m only half present.

  I’m in the booth, sure, but my mind is elsewhere, dreaming about Stone Phillips and warming inside whenever I think of the man’s eyes, hands, and cock. I’m so bad. I’m on a ‘date’ with another male, yet I’m dreaming of Stone’s massive prick, eager to feel it inside of me again. Yearning to play with him and let him play with me.

  So when we finish our food, I shoot Chip a bright smile, crumpling my paper wrapper.

  “Thanks so much!” I chirp. “The burgers were great, weren’t they?”

  They were actually nothing compared to Stone’s home-cooking, but Chip has no idea that’s what I’m thinking. He shoots me an admiring glance.

  “Yeah, I’ve never seen a girl eat an entire SuperDuper Special,” he states by way of a compliment. “Usually, when I take girls out, they get the salad or some vegetarian option,” he snorts, his nose scrunching. “That shit is disgusting – wilted leaves and alfalfa sprouts. Not that I take many girls here,” he amends quickly, shooting me a worried glance. “My mom gets the salad sometimes, too,” he corrects, stumbling over his words.

  I almost laugh aloud because the hottest guy in school is tongue-tied over me, Evie Jones, the curvy girl. But I understand.

  “No worries. Sometimes, I get the salad too,” I reply nicely, even though that’s a lie. I never get salad; I hate eating like a rabbit and have never forced myself to diet. But Chip looks relieved, glad he hasn’t mistakenly insulted me.

  “Oh yeah,” he agrees, nodding quickly. “Even I’ve gotten the salad sometimes, but not often because I need to build muscle.” He hoists an arm up in a bodybuilder pose. “See? I’ve got the guns,” he notes proudly.

  Honestly, his body is kind of gross. His biceps are so huge that his shirt sleeves are almost bursting, the thin cotton no match for the bulging muscles and veins. Some girls would die for his physique, but to me, he just looks like a jungle animal.

  “Yeah,” I murmur faintly. “Nice. You must have worked hard for those.”

  The jock nods sagely. “But I’m smart too,” he’s quick to add. “I’m going to State next year on an athletic scholarship, but I met all of their minimum academic requirements, no problem,” he boasts.

  I sigh. The minimum academic requirements are probably a 1.0 or something else ridiculously low, so that’s nothing to brag about, but I force myself to smile again.

  “That sounds wonderful, Chip,” I praise. “So glad you didn’t have trouble clearing the GPA hurdle.”

  And he puffs up again with pride.

  “So, where are you headed next year?” he asks.

  The truth is, I don’t know. Now that I’m involved with Mr. Phillips, everything is different. I’m not sure what is next for me. I want to be where he is. To stay in the vicinity if he’s still going to teach at Spencer Prep next year. I need to talk things over with him, work things out, and figure out our next steps. But there’s no need for Chip to know any of this, so I just hem and haw, feeding him a white lie.

  “Oh, my entire family went to State,” I say with some enthusiasm, “so maybe I’ll head there next year as well.”

  It’s the wrong thing to say because Chip takes my hand, our greasy fingers suddenly entwined.

  “Well, I hope we’ll see more of each other then,” he murmurs seriously, his voice low and meaningful. “I’ve had a good time tonight, and I hope you did too.”

  I color a little but not from excitement. It’s because this is like taking a train to Orlando when you’re supposed to be headed to Miami. It’s off, but not so off that you’re doomed.

  So I force myself to smile, reminding myself this this whole scenario is a disguise for my liaison with Mr. Phillips.

  “Yeah,” I chirp with what I hope sounds like whole-hearted enthusiasm. “It’s been fun.”

  Chip smiles then, his face breaking out into a big grin. “Oh great,” he exhales on a big sigh, the smell of greasy French fries hitting my face. “Great, great.”

  And with that, we walk out of the joint, the envious stares of my female classmates trailing my form. Chip drives me home, giving me a quick peck on the lips when I hop out of his car.

  “Evie, I had a great time tonight,” he repeats seriously while making pointed eye contact.

  This time, I smile on auto-pilot. “Me too!” I chirp. “See ya tomorrow!” And I hop out, slinging my purse over my shoulder and practically skipping the steps up to my building. “Bye!” I wave over my shoulder.

  As his car zooms off, I breathe a sigh of relief. My fake date is finally over, and I can relax and let myself dream. It’s not that Chip is so bad; he just isn’t the one I want. My alpha male is handsome and sophisticated, an awesome cook, and even better in bed. Stone, my mind sings. Stone, my body hums. I can’t wait to see him again, and I step into the elevator dreaming of the big man.

  But he isn’t in class the next day either. Or the day after that. No reason is given, really – just that Mr. Phillips has been placed on ‘administrative leave.’ WTF? What is that? People start asking questions, our mouths agape, puzzled and confused.

  “But why? For what?” presses Mindy when a vice-principal comes in to explain the absence to us. “Did he do something bad?” she stresses while shooting a meaningful look my way. I nod at my friend gratefully. There is no way I would have the courage to ask the question myself, but I hold my breath while waiting for an answer, almost unable to breathe.

  But Ms. Henley dodges the question.

  “Mr. Phillips had some disagreements with the administration,” she says firmly. “He’s been put on leave until the issues are resolved.”

  That’s a non-answer if I’ve ever heard one, but no amount of prodding or poking can get anything more out of the administrator.

  “Why?” whines Caroline Berman. “He was going to help me study!”

  Mindy and I exchange a shocked glance. Had Stone been helping a bunch of female students with their classwork? Caroline is a plump blonde with generous curves, fat lips, and a dull smile. What the hell?

  Ms. Henley shoots Caroline a sharp look. “Again, Stone Phillips has been placed on administrative leave, and that’s all I can say at this time,” she repeats smoothly. “Now, if you’ll let me introduce your substitute. Luther Wizener taught biology for thirty years in a neighboring school district before retiring last year.”

  Upon hearing those words, the new sub steps forward. He’s a wizened, old man who looks about ready to keel over.

  “Thank you, Ms. Henley,” he wheezes, pausing with his hand on a desk to catch his breath. “Let’s start at meiosis. That’s where Mr. Phillips left off, is that right? Cell reproduction, my favorite.”

  I’m frozen for the rest of the period, unable to focus, take notes, or even pretend I’m paying attention.

  When Chip tries to talk to me after class, I just shoot him a half-hearted smile before fleeing, promising to call him later. But instead, I walk the few blocks to Mr. Phillips’ apartment building.

  “Hi,” I greet the doorman. “Evie Jones for Stone Phillips,” I say with as much confidence as I can muster.

  But the old man just shoots me an inscrutable look, stiff in his red and blue uniform.

  “Mr. Phillips isn’t available,” he replies politely, turning back to his newspaper.

  “But you didn’t even call upstairs!” I gasp. “How do you know he’s not available?”

  The doorman just shoots me another impenetrable look.

  “This is the end of my shift,” he responds, coldly this time. “I’d know if Mr. Phillips was home.”

  I gasp. It’s four in the afternoon. Where could my lover be? But try as I might, I can’t wring any answers out of the doorman.

  “Please,” I beg, close to tears. “Just tell him that Evie dropped by, okay?”

  The old guy finally relents a little, nodding reluctantly. “Fine. I’ll give him the message.”

  With that small consolation, I trudg
e to the front door and let myself out onto the sidewalk. Manhattan suddenly appears gray and featureless. Where is Stone? He’s been missing for days now, suddenly unavailable, and I’m unable to reach him in the only ways I know how. I almost resolve to camp out in front of his building, except that seems too pathetic. Besides, the doorman already hates me and is staring at me menacingly through the glass-paned windows. So instead, I take a deep breath and force myself to start walking, placing one foot in front of another even though I feel sightless and numb.

  Where is my lover? We’d had an incredible time together, our minds connecting and our bodies attuned to one another like two halves of a whole. But where is he now? Why is he inaccessible? My heart fills with dread and I shiver uncontrollably although it isn’t cold out. I just want to know where my man is … and if we can be together going forward.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Evie

  A year later …

  Chip slings his arm over my shoulders, almost squashing me.

  “Heya, big girl,” he greets, nuzzling my hair fondly. “Ohhh, you smell good.”

  I smile wanly because since we both matriculated at State, Chip is my wannabe boyfriend. He isn’t my actual boyfriend; I can’t go that far, and I make sure he knows it.

  “I can’t, Chip,” I’d explained halfheartedly one night. “I just can’t.”

  “Is it me?” he’d asked, pained, his hulking form looking awkward on the small dorm couch. “Is it something I did?”

  And I’d shaken my head miserably.