Schooled by Love: 3 Sexy Stories about What Really Happens on Campus

by Lily Langford

  “I should go get cleaned up. Do you have a bathroom on this floor.”

  “Yeah, just head through the kitchen and you’ll see the door there.”

  “Great. Thanks.”

  He gets up and I admire his but while he walks across the room.

  “Maybe we could sleep for a little bit.” He suggests. “And then try for round two.”

  “Round two?” I ask. “I think you mean round 3.”

  He laughs. “Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

  I smile to myself while he’s gone. Part of me feels guilty for what we’ve just done, but when it feels so right, why fight it?

  One thing is for sure.

  I’m going to have some really great stories to tell Kelly tomorrow.

  Her Bossy Lover

  “Good afternoon, this is Kelly.”

  The number that flashes across the phone screen on my desk is one I don’t recognize, and any call that comes from within the university shows an extension number and name. I’m desperately hoping that it’s not a telemarketer as I wait for the caller to identify his or herself.

  “Hey Kelly, it’s me.”

  I’m surprised to hear that it’s Jeff Holland on the other line. He is the president of the English Department at our University.

  He also happens to be my boss.

  “Hi.” I say slowly, realizing that too much time has passed since anyone has said anything. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting it to be you. My phone didn’t recognize your number for some reason.”

  “I figured as much.” He says. “I’ve got technical support here in my office right now. I’ve been having issues with my phone all day so they came in at lunch time to check things out. It’s taking longer than I expected.”

  “Oh no! Did they get it fixed? I know you have that conference call this afternoon.”

  “They’re working on it, so hopefully everything will be fixed in time. I’d say it’s a good sign that you can hear what I’m saying and you don’t just hear static.”

  “I’d say so.”

  “What I actually wanted to talk to you about is the department fundraiser. I’ve got a few ideas but I really need someone to help me get things organized. Would you be interested in helping out with this, Kelly?”

  I’m a little taken aback by his question. Of course I’ll help. I would never say no to Jeff Holland. I’m pretty sure his gorgeous blue eyes prevent any woman from saying no to him about anything.

  Ever.

  But still, it seems like a task better suited for his secretary, rather than a freshman English composition teacher. But I don’t feel like it’s my place to tell him that.

  “Sure.” I tell him. “I can help you.”

  “Great. I was thinking we could meet after my conference call, but I have my kids this week and I really need to get home and feed them. I don’t suppose you could come over this evening so that we can get started planning?”

  I think about what’s waiting for me at home. There’s my cat, Clarence. For dinner I was planning to reheat some leftover macaroni and cheese from the dish I made last weekend.

  “I guess so.” I tell him, reaching for a legal pad that’s sitting on the right side of my desk. “You’ll need to tell me the details though so that I can start gathering my ideas.”

  “Of course. We can go over that tonight though. I’ll have Lynn send you a text then.”

  “Oh, ok.”

  “Thank you Kelly.”

  “You’re welcome.” I say, right before he hangs up.

  I’m a little perturbed by what just went down. It doesn’t seem very professional to meet your boss at his house to plan a fundraising event for work. To me it just seems downright odd.

  But I can be a bit particular, if I’m being honest. My sister Lizzie always made fun of me when we were growing up. I believe the word she always used to describe me was anal. Which is actually kind of funny considering how much younger than me she is, but that’s beside the point.

  I ask my friend Michelle when she comes back to our office that afternoon. There are renovations being done in the English building right now which means we’re sharing office space until those renovations have been successfully completed. It’s actually come in handy to have someone around who I can bounce ideas off of.

  “I don’t think it’s that weird.” Michelle says. “He’s an incredibly busy guy. Meeting tonight is probably one of the few times he has available all week.”

  “But still.” I tell her. “We’re meeting at your house.”

  “You worry too much. He already explained that he has to be at home because of his kids.”

  “I guess.” I say reluctantly.

  She makes excellent points, but I don’t know if Michelle has the best judgment. I found out last month that she’s dating her teaching assistant who is ten years younger than her, and also a student at our university.

  It’s not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m all for women doing what they want to do and having sex with whoever they want to have sex with. We should all aim to be living our best lives.

  But because I’m such a conservative (and possibly anal) person, it’s just hard for me to get behind things that are outside of my comfort zone. And dating anyone involved

  “Think about it.” She says. “You’ll get to spend some one on one time with the hottest guy in the department.”

  “Michelle.” I scold, getting up and closing the door to our office. “You can’t just say that out loud.”

  “Sorry.” She says, although she doesn’t look very sorry. “But really. He’s a very handsome man. And those blue eyes? Oh boy.”

  I can feel myself getting warm, which is how I get whenever I think about a man I might be interested in.

  “I don’t know.” I tell her. “I don’t think you should be talking about our boss that way.”

  “You can’t say you haven’t noticed him.” Michelle says, giving me a look.

  Unfortunately our desks are on opposite sides of the room and facing each other, so there’s no way to hide from her.

  “Of course I have.” I reply. “I’m a woman, aren’t I?”

  “There we go. I was afraid I was going to have to call you a liar.”

  “No.” I tell her. “No lies here.”

  I’m hoping that she’ll drop this point of discussion, and luckily she does. She starts telling me about the trip and she and Andrew are planning so that she can meet his parents.

  Maybe this makes me a bad friends, but I’m having trouble focusing on her words. I must respond appropriately because she keeps talking.

  My body might be physically in this office, but my mind is completely elsewhere.

  +++

  I get a text from Jeff’s administrative assistant Lynn closer to five o’clock. She tells me his address and let’s me know that I should go over around seven o’clock. That’s fine with me. That gives me plenty of time to reheat my dinner and change into something more comfortable than my work clothes.

  My typical outfit for a work day is a pencil skirt and colorful cardigan with a collared blouse underneath. Tonight I change into a pair of skinny jeans and a burgundy sweater with my black ballet flats.

  I usually wear my hair in a half up-do for work, but tonight I pull it up into a messy bun so that it’s away from my face.

  Jeff’s house is only a few blocks from school. I don’t live farm from the university either, but in the opposite direction. I decide to drive rather than walk because it will probably be dark by the time I head back home.

  “Hi.” He says with a smile as he opens the front door. “Come on in, Kelly.”

  His house is really nice, but what else would you expect from someone so high up in the collegiate world?

  “Wow.” I tell him. “Your home is beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” He says. “It’s hard to believe I’ve been here for eight years now. I moved in a few weeks after I started working at the University because that’s when the house b
ecame available and I really liked the location.”

  “Cool.”

  Jeff’s kids are in the living room watching television in the living room, and he introduces me to them as we pass through. They’re pretty mesmerized by whatever show is on though, so they don’t pay too much attention to us.

  We go through a small hallway. There’s a laundry room and we pass a mudroom where kid’s backpacks and shoes are thrown all over the place.

  “Excuse the mess.” Jeff says. “We’ve been s bit busy lately and haven’t been focusing on cleaning.”

  “No worries.” I say, hoping that I don’t sound as nervous as I feel. “It reminds me of home.”

  At the end of the hall he twists open a door knob and I realize this must be his home office.

  I wouldn’t say his office is minimalist, but there’s not a lot in it beside the furniture and the books on his bookshelf. He sits down behind the desk and flips open his laptop so I take that as my cue to sit down in the arm chair across from him.

  “So.” He says, looking straight at me.

  “So.” I say back. “I had an idea for the fundraiser.”

  His eyes brighten, and I’m reminded again of how handsome this man is. I know he’s too old for me. I’m turning thirty this year and he must be in his early forties. But still. I can’t quite get the idea of the two of us together out of my mind.

  “Great! I’ve been trying to think of something but I haven’t had any luck yet. Gail was always in charge of the fundraisers before she retired. She’s left behind big shoes to fill.”

  Gail was a faculty member of the English Department who retired at the end of last school year. She was a sweet, grandmotherly woman who the students really loved. Her office was always filled during her office hours, because students went to her for advice on all kinds of subjects. The rest of the faculty loved her too because she always took on the volunteer activities that no one else wanted to volunteer for.

  Every department has one, I guess.

  I explain to Jeff my idea while he types away behind his computer. It’s an idea that I got from my own college days. It’s simple really. What does every college student love but not want to spend a lot of money on?

  Food.

  Back when I was in college a club that I was a part of divided everyone into groups, and for the last two months of the year, each group prepared a meal that we sold to the other students in the department. When you divide up the work and expenses and charge five dollars a piece for a meal, it really adds up. We were able to rent a coach bus and take our entire club to a conference that was on the other side of the state.

  “I like that idea.” Jeff says. “It’s easy and I’m sure we’ll be able to scrape together a couple of slow cookers so that we can just plug them in and keep the food warm.”

  “Right.” I tell him. “And there are just so many different things you can make.”

  He asks me a couple of questions and I answer them to the best of my ability. It has been nearly ten years since I was in college, after all. But as we continue our discussion, the ideas just flow out of us.

  When Jeff has everything typed up in a word document, he stands up.

  “Here, let’s go to the couch and I’ll show you what we have so far.”

  There’s a plush couch on the far side of the room. It’s framed by two side tables with lamps on them. It looks like the perfect couch to curl up on with a good book. I mention that to Jeff and he smiles.

  “That’s an excellent idea, although I can’t say I sit here very much. Usually I’m too busy at my desk getting my work done.”

  “Right.”

  I sit down at the end of the couch and much to my surprise, Jeff sits down right now to me. I mean, it’s not like our legs are touching, but he has to know how close he is. I think about what might happen if I scoot a little bit closer to him and our legs touch.

  But I’m not that brave.

  No way.

  “Here.” Jeff says, as he sets his computer down on my lap. “Why don’t you do a quick read through and let me know if everything makes sense? If so, we can present the idea to the English club on Friday during their regular meeting.”

  I read over what he’s written and he’s managed to throw all of our thoughts and discussion into a cohesive few paragraphs. He’s even thrown in a couple of bullet points.

  It’s all very nice.

  “It looks good.” I tell him. “With a solid plan like this one, we’ll be sure to raise enough funds to send the English club on their Spring Break trip.”

  “I hope so.” Jeff says. “If they don’t go to London to study and explore new cultures, they might wind up in Mexico. Or worse.”

  “What?” I ask.

  I’m beginning to fear that he might be a secret racist or something, so I really need him to finish that thought.

  “Or Florida.” He finishes.

  Oh. He was just kidding. Ok.

  I pass the laptop back to him and he makes sure to save his work before he closes the computer lid. I watch him as he does it.

  He sure has nice hands.

  Nice, big hands.

  “Are you ok?” Jeff asks. “You’ve been acting different this evening.”

  “Oh. I’m fine.” I lie.

  Jeff turns so that he’s looking right at me. Then he smiles.

  “Thanks for coming over tonight and helping me with this.”

  “Of course.” I tell him. “I couldn’t let you suffer without Gail.”

  He shrugs. “You’re better than Gail.”

  “No. I don’t think so.”

  “And way more modest.”

  I smile. “Maybe.”

  “And so much prettier.”

  I don’t know how to respond to that one. I look up at him and he’s staring at me with his gorgeous blue eyes and before I know it, I’m gone. I’m lost in him.

  And my senses?

  I don’t think I have any sense in me anymore.

  It’s obvious that he’s going to kiss me by the way he’s looking at me, and I’m eager for it. I move my hand up to the side of his face and gently pull him closer until his lips are on mine.

  He’s soft. He’s warm. And before I know it we kiss again, our lips moving together in a way that satisfies me, but also like I’m wanting more.

  So much more.

  “Daddy?”

  Crap. The office door was left open and when I look toward the door, one of Jeff’s daughters is standing there. She’s wearing her pajamas and carrying a book in her hands.

  Is it that late?

  “Crap.” Jeff mutters, before turning to his daughter. “What’s up, honey?”

  “I’m ready for my story before bed.”