Without Regret

When Professor Stoddard’s office door was propped open, it was his signal to let his students know he was available to chat. The door was almost always ajar, even when he was on the phone or with a staff member or student. Abbi always appreciated the way he welcomed everyone, when so many other cranky professors didn’t.

She’d known Professor Stoddard all four years of college, and each year she had more respect for the man. As a freshman she’d been completely enamored of his eloquence, experience, and wisdom. Now, as a graduated senior, she realized she had true feelings for the giving and hardworking man he’d proven himself to be.

He had encouraged her as a writer from that very first class assignment. Not only had he given her an “A” (a rare occurrence in his classes), but he’d written constructive criticism at the bottom of her paper, letting her know her strong points and also areas that needed improvement. With his guidance, she’d gone on to see various creative and critical pieces of hers published in magazines, both online and in print, and had even won a couple of awards. The least she could do was say goodbye now that her final semester was over. She’d thought of only him when she’d walked the stage to proudly receive her bachelor’s degree.

Clutching the last essay she’d written for him, she approached the open door. A surge of emotion held her in place. She couldn’t imagine not seeing him every day, as she had the last four years. Sure, she could stay in touch, as she already emailed him frequently to get his input on her work, but it wouldn’t be the same. Holding her breath to push back the bittersweet feeling in her breast, she tapped on his open office door with her free hand.

“Come on in,” he said.

It was a soothing voice she could listen to for hours; it made even the dullest of lectures worth hearing. She peeked through the doorway, wavy red ringlets of hair swinging past her shoulders. He smiled from behind his desk and stood in that chivalrous manner she’d grown so fond of. His tall torso always donned that patented tan, corduroy jacket. Today he wore a baby blue button-down underneath. Dark blue jeans covered his long legs, which she imagined were still muscular, despite his age, as he often talked of jogging in his spare time. He gestured for her to take a seat.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Abbi asked.

“No, nothing that can’t wait.” It was the usual response, as was the putting down of his pen and the straightening of the stack of paper before him. “Grading’s all done since the semester is over. I’m just doing paperwork for the administration office.” He smiled. “What can I help you with today, Abbi?”

Every time he said her name, she felt a surge of heat run up her body. Most of her other professors didn’t even remember her name, much less use it. Then again, she and Professor Stoddard were on somewhat friendlier terms.

“Actually, nothing.” She grew suddenly self-conscious, this being the first time she paid him a purely social visit. “I just wanted to thank you for, you know, being such a great teacher during my years here.”

He looked at her over his glasses, his eyes a striking blue. “And you’ve been a great student.”

“I feel like I learned so much from you. More than any other professor, for sure. I feel like you actually cared about me and my writing, and I appreciate that.”

His smile faded into a more serious expression. “You definitely have the kind of talent that I haven’t seen in a long time from a student.” Shifting in his seat, he tapped a finger on his papers, an almost anxious-looking movement that surprised Abbi. “Did you happen to see my comment on your last essay?”

“I did.” She gripped her paper tighter. “You mentioned I was one of your best students and also one of your favorites.” Looking down at the essay, she worried her sweating palms might smear the ink. “Did you really mean that?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t have written it if I hadn’t. You know all my comments are honest. I don’t praise many people. Only the ones who deserve it.”

He had a way of making her feel incredible. Her parents were never ones to pay attention to her writing, much less praise it. For the helpfulness he gave her, she’d be forever grateful. But as much as she battled inside of herself, she had to admit she wanted more than simply approval on her writing. It was why she’d worn the little yellow sundress with the low V-neck and why she’d paid extra care to her hair and makeup before this visit. She wanted him to think her beautiful and to remember her forever.

“Thank you,” she said shyly. “Your opinion means a lot to me.”

“Well.” He nodded, moving his eyes from hers to the open door and then back again. “You’re welcome. Anything else I can help you with?”

“No, and thanks again for that letter of recommendation, by the way. I’ll be using it.”

“Anytime.”

This was silly. What did she expect? That he’d come out and tell her he had feelings for her, too? He was her college professor, not some guy who wanted to date her. Despite thinking her talented, he must view her as young and not anywhere in his league. She’d said what she needed to say. Now it was time to move on from this crush and get a grip on reality.

“Anyway, that’s all.” She stood, forcing herself to pretend she was fine, even happy. “I just wanted to tell you that.”

He got up from his chair and walked her to the door, as he sometimes did. She stopped to turn to him one last time. And to her surprise, he held out an arm, reaching for her shoulders. Stepping into the light embrace, she let out a quiet sigh, her body melting against his touch. The smell of him was exquisite, his cologne a pepper and lavender mixture that compelled her to nuzzle the side of her face against his chest.

Before she lost control and did anything stupid, she tore herself away and began to rapidly walk from him. The hallway presented a row of closed doors on both sides, most professors having already finished their work for the day, as school was no longer in session. But as she walked father away, her pace slowed until she came to a stop. The pangs of regret made her stomach ache.

If this was the last she would see of him, she had to make it count. She had nothing to lose. It was now or never. He might reject her, but if she didn’t try, she’d never know.

She raced back to his office, kicked the doorstop up, and pulled the door closed. He stood in front of his desk, almost as if he’d been waiting and hoping for her to return. His blue eyes held an expectant glimmer in them as he watched her slowly step up to him.

“I’m going to miss you, Professor Stoddard,” she said, her voice lit with a slight tremble.

“Please, call me Jim now.”

“Jim.” The name felt wonderful on her tongue. “I think I love you, Jim.”

He didn’t reply, but he also didn’t make any protest when she slid her hands inside his jacket, up to his shoulders, and then guided the garment off of him. Letting it drop to the floor, he held his eyes on hers. Then he removed his glasses and placed them on the desk behind him.

“I wish I could keep you here,” he said, losing some of the elegant composure she was used to. She placed her hands flat against his chest as he tenderly kissed the crown of her head. “Abbi - ”

She raised a hand and touched his lips with her fingers. “You don’t have to say anything.”

The professor closed his eyes and kissed the palm of her hand. When she shuddered at the soft, erotic pressure of his mouth on her skin, he embraced her again, this time with possessive strength. He held her there, cradled safely, for a moment before touching his lips to hers.

She opened her mouth with wanton desire and let him explore the slickness of her tongue. Nibbling on his lip, she reached her hand between his legs, hoping dearly he would respond to her, that this wasn’t just going to be a simple kiss goodbye. He released a throaty sigh and ceased all movement as her hand worked against his crotch. His cock began to stir against her caresses, and a thrilling wetness pooled between her legs. Admittedly more aroused than he, Abbi stroked him through his pants until he caught up with her.

His kisses grew more animalistic as he discovered the curve of her neck, the smooth underside of her arm, the perspiring crease between her full breasts. Though he threatened to make her knees buckle, she continued rubbing him, loving the feel of the firmness that fought against the blue jean material. He unbuckled his belt, briefly darting his eyes to the closed door. If he had reservations about this, he apparently didn’t have enough to stop what they’d put into motion. Abbi didn’t care if the very president of the university walked in. She needed Jim Stoddard like a parched throat needed water.

He fumbled with his jean buttons and zipper while she watched. Enwrapped in this fantasy coming to life, she breathed through her open mouth as he drew his long, rigid prick out of its confines and stroked himself. She touched it with him, his grip above hers. After he dropped his hand to let her take over, he pinched her nipples through the cotton of her dress, and her ass tingled in response.

The professor reached around her waist and lifted her up. She closed her eyes, the moment feeling like a dream of ecstasy. He placed her on top of a low filing cabinet, and she opened her eyes, not wanting to miss any of this incredible experience. His hands slid up her cream-colored legs until they found the sides of her panties. Lovingly gazing at her body, he pulled her underwear down until she was able to kick them off of her ankles.

He stroked himself as he pulled her to the edge of the cabinet. She lifted the skirt of her dress and spread her legs wide for him, watching as he inched ever closer to her cunt. He positioned the tip and then grunted as he thrust himself into of her.

She wrapped her legs around his waist to bring him closer until his hard, hair-covered pubic bone rubbed against her engorged clit. The sensation, coupled with his desperate thrusting, had her biting against her lip so she wouldn’t whimper too loud. There could still be someone in the building. And she so desperately didn’t want Jim to get caught and then regret this.

With each plunge, he released a sensual moan, until Abbi couldn’t take it anymore. She held her breath as she came, clenching against his cock. Jim’s utterings grew louder as he plunged into her tightened pussy, and she covered his mouth with both hands until his cries were muffled. His eyes rolled back as he jutted his hips one final time. Then he quickly pulled out, his hot seed rushing down her thighs.

He pulled open a desk drawer and rummaged loudly through metal and plastic office supplies until he pulled out a blue handkerchief. Rushing back to her, he shook his head and muttered something about being careless. Then he began to wipe up the evidence of their lovemaking from her legs.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his spent prick growing flaccid. Abbi stared at it in gratitude as he continued to clean her. “I don’t know what came over me. This shouldn’t have happened.”

“Why? I’m on birth control, if that’s what you’re wondering. Do you have reservations about me as a person?”

It was a simple question, but it made him freeze in mid-wipe. He searched her eyes with his, and she gave him the most sincere of smiles. Then she kissed his lips. His entire body relaxed, his shoulders losing their tension, the lines on his forehead smoothing out.

“I don’t know why,” he said softly. “Do you have reservations about me?”

“Not at all,” she said then added, “I meant what I said when I told you I loved you, Jim.” He took her legs in his hands and leaned in for a tender kiss. “And I always will.”

She took the handkerchief from him and hopped down off the filing cabinet. After she pulled her panties off the floor, she handed them to him. He took them into both hands and held them tight.

“Fair trade,” she said, holding up his hankie.

He chuckled and then touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “Email me?”

“Will do.”

This time when she left his office, she held her head high and walked away without regret.