Thread: Lies in the Dark [ Chai & rpfiend_123 ]

The first day of the new semester had Mike Stevenson in quite a good mood. It was a welcome change for the older tenured professor who, at 52, would have been the envy of many other men his age. He had a great job, a full head of hair, and was liked by his colleagues and students. However, due to his messy separation and impending divorce to another professor at the school, his state of mind could have been described as 'irritable' at best. Though even with the messy personal situation going on, he didn't fail to be at his desk before the sun even rose, preparing his lecture notes for one of his favorite classes. His traditional three cups of coffee had been brewed, and his charcoal grey sport coat, donned over a snug fitting navy shirt and khakis were was impeccably fitted to his muscular frame. Regular access to the university gym and a light teaching load had given him ample time to work out his recent frustrations. He was finishing up a few things as he listened to his TA start the class with his cheery banter. He could tell he was wrapping up, and walked to his office door, which led out into the lecture hall. At 6'3 he was an imposing figure - but his broad, white smile often disarmed even the most intimidated of students. He was surveying this semester's class, sizing up the group when he heard the door open he turned his head and couldn't help but raise a brow as a familiar face appeared. He recognized her in an instant. As an English major, she'd been in a few of his classes - and, if he remembered correctly, did quite well. He'd always remembered her to be a pretty girl - but his honor kept his eyes from lingering too long. Now, however, he didn't feel any guilt in letting his greyish blue eyes watch her as she bounced down the steps - even in her casual outfit, he appreciated her simple beauty. ...over to the professor. Isaac's voice, followed by a pause, snapped him out of his daze, and he blinked a few times, smiling to the class. Thank you Isaac. He strode over to his desk, on which sat several thick volumes. Welcome, seniors, to what is sure to be your favorite class. He turned his back to the group with a smirk, producing a little remote from his pocket and clicking it towards a lap top on a podium. Sex and Literature and Media. Up on the screen behind him, the words were displayed - smattered over a collage of images that ranged from titillating, to sensual, to downright erotic. They were old oil paintings, black and white photographs, edited out nip-slips from celebrity photos in gossip mags. I know what you're all thinking, and no, this isn't a free opportunity to get all.. he turned back to the class, making eye contact with a rather heavy set male who he'd had in several other classes. ..pervy. He frowned. Looking to the rest of his class, his eyes flitted over the tanned legs of Stephanie before he came out from behind the desk and paced in front of them. You're going to have to think about sexuality in new ways. In the context of the ancient and the modern. He didn't even look at the screen, but his thumb pressed on the remote each time he brought up a new idea, accenting his words with images of nude human bodies, illustrations from the kama sutra, a still from what seemed to be a blurred out porno. And you're all adults here, so I needn't remind you that we can talk about sex without being crude or disrespectful. He continued the rest of his lecture without much interruption - stopping only to take questions. When he'd covered the syllabus and given them their first reading assignment, he dismissed the class. Moving to the front row as the students packed their books, he approached Stephanie. Miss.. Rivera, is it? He folded his arms and stood in front of her - his chest puffed out. I trust you'll be on time on Friday, hm? If he were any other professor, he may have been able to pull off the stern-voiced talking-to he had envisioned in his mind, but the comment came out with all the warmth he was known for campus wide. His forced grimace soon broke into a soft smile. I'm not mad. He chuckled, as if she could have actually mistaken his mood for crossness. I'm glad to see you're taking this class. You did so well in Russian Literature, I look forward to see how you tackle this subject matter! Even after teaching the class for 10 years, he always was a bit anxious to see how students would react to his enthusiasm for the class. The last thing he wanted to do was come off as attempting to force inappropriate conversations with students - let alone beautiful young brunette ones.