EXTRACT FOR
The Professor Collection 1
(Liliana Troy)
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Contents: Jared never
thought his first semester at college would give him any trouble, least of all
Art History. But finding Professor Liliana Troy in front of his class changes
everything. If he can only stop staring at her long enough to suppress the
growing tension in his nether regions, perhaps he can get out of there without
doing anything to endanger his school record, or his relationship with High
School Sweetheart Ann. Unfortunately fate, as well as an appendage with a mind
of its own has other ideas. Tall, dark
and handsome Darius has always been the noisy one in class; the trouble maker.
If he's not cracking inappropriate jokes, he's staring at professor Troy's
rack. Today she's had enough and vows to teach him a thing or two that are not
in the curriculum. Unwanted behaviour can only be corrected by consistent
instruction and harsh & unwanted consequences, which is exactly what
Liliana Troy is planning on dishing out. It's time for hard domination and
student submission. Darius won't know what hit him. Well... sure he will. His teacher
will make sure he sees the whip and the paddle before he feels them! When shy geek
Matthew approaches Professor Liliana Troy for the first time for some extra
study material, she picks up on a more intimate subtext in his words: he's
inexperienced in the ways of love. A Virgin. She's always liked the idea of a
blank canvas, so she'll teach him about a lot else than the impressionist
movement. This story
is intended for adult audiences only. Disclaimer:
All the characters in this story are consenting adults who are not related by
blood. © 2015 eXplicitTales Published
by eXplicitTales This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If
you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an
additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not
purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase
your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. The familiar buzz of my phone on silent
continues a few more times, but I can't be bothered to look at it. I'll deal
with Ann's wrath later, and anyway she should know better than to call me at
this hour. What am I, her boyfriend or a doormat? My eyes meanwhile are firmly
fixed a few rows below me and the mesmerising form walking back to her desk to
put her book down and end her lecture. "So, if you could all read the first
chapter by next week, and identify which of the discussed artists speaks to you
the most and why..." Professor Liliana Troy looks at the class
expectantly, her hand still resting on her copy of the textbook on the wooden table. The lecture hall is large enough, currently
seating at least a hundred of us, if not more. For some reason it seems like
she's mainly staring at me though. It felt like that throughout her
presentation on early 20th century painters. Her gaze hits me in my core and
tickles the hairs at the back of my neck, and more. It had been a shock, sitting down for the
first Modern Art lecture of the first semester of college, and
seeing her walk into the room. There's a familiarity about her which
I can't place; it's making my fingers itch at the thought of getting the chance
to draw her later. It had been a while since I've done a portrait, lately
focusing on futuristic landscapes instead. They do say inspiration hits in the
most unlikely of places. She doesn't look like a professor, rather, she
could pass for a student if she changed out of that pencil skirt and blouse and
into something more easygoing. More so if she let her
bright red hair down. It would be such a trip to see her in another outfit, or
none at all... Either way, she's smokin'. That hair, those eyes, those lips, and
especially the promise of what remains hidden underneath her outfit is enough
to inspire all sorts of imagery. I best get my mind under control quick. In the background my mobile buzzes again. Jesus
Christ, not now! "Mr. Whats-your-name-again?
Did you hear me?" Shit, she is indeed looking right at me. "Jared, Jared Billington.
Chapter One by next week." I try, but fail to hide the stammer in my
voice. This is the single most unnerving thing that's happened so far this
week, and that includes that terrifying first day when I didn't know anyone
yet. Teachers never intimidated me much in High School, but this one's off the
scale. It occurs to me that my High School teachers were all dull, old, or male. Some of my fellow students snigger under their
breath, putting me more on edge. I throw the most intrusive offender, Steve, a
nasty glance. I'll get you for this, you bastard. Still, my palms are
getting sticky, and yet something else is starting to twitch despite my nerves.
This class is going to kill me this semester. "And?" Professor Troy cocks her head
and rests her hand on her hip, waiting for more. Damnit,
had she said something else? "Pick a painter." I breathe a silent
sigh of relief after the answer presents itself. She nods, satisfied. That was close. And yet,
it still seems like her eyes remain glued to mine a little longer than
necessary. It feels like she can read my mind, like all my deepest desires are
written on my forehead for all to see. Looking down, I realise most difficult part of
today still lies ahead: my jeans are tenting badly at the crotch. Fucking
great. |