I slogged across campus, on my way to beg for a better grade. My thoughts weren’t on my destination, they were on Michael. Stumbling for words, I’d blurted out ‘Why’d you help us?’. He’s usually such a jerk, and I never have been able to get over what he did to Jamie. He’d blown off the question with a shrug and left Eli and I staring at his back as he walked away. I still hadn’t been able to get anything from him. I’d asked Jamie, but he replied with a smile and wave of his hands.
By the time I’d ran through Michael being the odd hero. I realized I was standing at Dr. Davidson’s door, exactly where I didn’t want to be.
I did not want to talk to this professor. I’d tried in the past, I had. But for some reason he made my skin crawl. He was friendly, very friendly. But he always seemed to be touching everyone. He’d squeezed my shoulder once, I felt like I needed to wash with a scrubbing pad to get his touch off me.
But now, I was failing his class. The only choice I have is to go talk to him. I hoped he would let me do something to raise my grade. What was the worst thing he could do to me? I’m already failing, you can’t do worse than flunk. I’d screwed around now and the deadline had passed to drop the class.
I stood outside the professors office and remembered another weird thing. None of the other people shut their doors during their office hours, but Davidson did. The whole thing just creeped me out.
I reached up to knock softly on the door.
“Hang on. Give me a minute.”
Shuffling, clicking and a couple of chimes came through the door. It took him a solid minute or two to finally open the door. What the hell?
The door opened a large crack, and an eye glared through at me from the dim room. “Yes? What do you need?”
“I’m Nathan Jensen. I’m in your beginning chemistry class. I had some problems with the midterm and came to talk to you.”
Another awkward pause, then the door opened. Davidson held it and motioned me inside. My eyes adjusted to the gloom as he made his way back to the desk and sat down. His eyes were partially lit from the computer screen as he typed in a few bursts on the keyboard. I used his diverted attention as an opportunity to look around the room.
Nothing unusual. Pictures of a woman and smiling kids, probably his family. A couple of book shelves filled to bursting. The odd certificate or award on the wall. Nothing to trigger the level of unease knotting my stomach. His desk was clean, none of the usual piles of ungraded papers, mail and other debris faculty allowed to accumulate. Not on his. All he had was a large calendar with items printed over in tiny print dominated his desk, a pencil holder perfectly filled with what I was sure were needle sharp pencils, and one of the numerous photos of the typical American family.
“Yes, I can see we do need to talk.”
I snapped back to the present, and the little smirk of a smile that he was wearing now. His fingers steepled in front of him as he studied me. This time his stare really was creeping me out. Finally his eyes met mine. “So, Mr. Jensen. It’s going to be very difficult for you to pass this course. What were you looking to accomplish in speaking with me?”
My mouth went dry. What did I want?
“Extra credit.” I squeaked out.
The smirk on his face grew, and then his eyes definitely went up and down my body, pausing at my crotch for several moments. A cold chill went through me, my cock shriveled like a raisin at the thought of him touching me again. This time his eyes never met mine, they just evaluated me like I was a piece of meat.
“What, exactly, were you hoping to do for ‘extra credit’?” he asked. The emphasis he put on the words ‘extra credit’ made the direction of the conversation obvious.
I stumbled to propose something. Anything than what was becoming obvious he wanted. “A paper maybe? Yeah, an extra credit paper. I could write you a paper, ten pages? Or even fifteen?” A plan, I was relieved to have come up with something.
I watched as he stood, walked to my side of the desk and leaned back against it. The smirk never left his face as he moved far too close. His crotch was directly across from me and panic rushed through my system. Oh my God, he is propositioning me!
Without breaking eye contact, he slid his hand up his leg and grabbed his crotch and started groping himself. We sat in silence for several minutes his he played with an obviously hardening cock. He stroked it through his loose cords when he spoke again. “Do you have any other ways that you can think of to earn extra credit, Mr. Jensen?”
Panic flared through my whole body. I just wanted out of his office, screw the grade. This guy wanted to trade sex. Holy shit, I can’t believe this is happening to me.
I grabbed my backpack and lurched from the chair, almost touching his leg as I fled. I tried to move as if I wasn’t trapped by a sexual predator. I opened the door, paused for a second and managed to rattle off, “Thanks for your time. I’ll think about what I could do.”
With that I left, embarrassed and terrified. What had I gotten myself into?
If you’d like to see a snippet from the other Wednesday Briefs authors you can go to the groups website. Or click on the name listed below to go directly to the story.
- Grace Duncan
- MA Church
- Chris T. Kat
- Shelly Schulz
- Raine O’Tierney
- JC Wallace
- Rob Colton
- Victoria Adams
- Elyzabeth VaLey
- Cia Nordwell
- Tali Spencer
- Sarah Hayes
- Michael Mandrake
- Andrew Q. Gordon
- MC Houle
- Renee Stevens
- Julie Lynn Hayes