© Sauce*Box, Fall 1998. All rights
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Sauce*Box Fall 1998
She couldn't believe it when she opened the door and saw him standing there leaning against the door jam. Suddenly all the events of the past few months came flooding back...
Maggie had doubled up her last semester's credits so she could graduate a full semester early. She was quickly hired by the college as a teaching assistant when two seasoned professors suddenly resigned, a single section of what she liked to call Poetry 101. She was hired with the understanding that if she did a good job she would be retained for the next semester and given more responsibilities.
Maggie was excited and determined to make her mark in the English department. She was young and full of fresh of ideas. She thought she could handle anything that came her way...
She changed her mind Monday morning when she was standing before an empty college classroom trying to decide what she should do first. Just when she thought she had a clear picture of how to proceed, her class began filing into the room. Her roster had the names of 25 college seniors...nearly all of them there because they desperately needed English credits to graduate. Most of them figured poetry was an easy way out.
Maggie grew more and more nervous as she felt the students' eyes checking out the new teacher. Luckily,Maggie didn't recognize any of the faces in front of her. Maybe they wouldn't realize she had been sitting in classrooms much like this one only weeks before. She hoped she could pull this off with her new tailored business suit and a teacherly tone of voice.
She took a deep breath and plunged into the speech she had prepared. It was a brief introduction followed by her course expectations. She spoke for several minutes not really looking at the class. She nervously watched her feet in the sexy high-heeled shoes she bought just for this occasion. She figured taller had to better and sexy couldn't hurt. When she finally looked up, she half expected the entire class to be asleep. Much to her surprise the group was listening. The room was completely silent and all eyes were fixed on the vibrant, young teaching assistant, her.
Maggie felt a bit more comfortable.She relaxed and began to call off the names on the roster. She tried to match the faces with the names on the list. It was difficult. There seemed to be so many of them....John....Sarah...Elizabeth...Jake.The list went on and on before her. When she finally came to the last name on the list....Jeff Wilson, she looked around the room to find this last student.
Jeff sat in the very last row. He met her gaze in a strong, determined way that the others had not. Maggie was flushed and her heart did flip flops. She hadn't anticipated a student would have any effect on her. What had she been thinking? These were students her age! Why wouldn't a good-looking college guy turn her eye?
As the weeks went by, Maggie began to look forward to the days when her poetry course met. Each class period, Jeff sat the last row and watched every move Maggie made. His looks made her flush in places she never dreamed possible and she was keenly aware of how her nipples pressed firmly against her blouse whenever she met his gaze.
Maggie's obsession with Jeff only got worse as winter changed into spring. She tried to ignore her feelings, but they were always there taunting her day after day.
One day, after the rest of the class had left for the afternoon, Jeff hung back. At first Maggie tried not to notice and busied herself with shuffling the papers on her desk and packing up her things. She could feel the color rise to her face, and she was sure Jeff could see the the cleavage that was visible as she leaned over the desk. She could feel his eyes on her. When she finally looked up, he was staring at her. She couldn't help but stare back, but neither of them spoke.
Finally, Jeff broke their stare. As he walked past her, he dropped a carefully folded note on her desk and left the room. Maggie couldn't move. Her limbs seemed frozen. "What could it possibly say?" she wondered. She walked slowly over to the desk and picked up the note. "I've seen the way you look at me...J."
From that afternoon on, each class ended the same way. Jeff would linger behind after class and drop a note on her desk. Each one was as terse as the first but as arousing. "I've seen the way your breasts flame red when I look at you...J." "I love the way you brush the hair from your face when you read a sensual poem...J." Each note made the fire Maggie felt grow stronger.
Soon it was the last day of finals and Maggie was the one with the carefully creased piece of paper. A pale pink stationary that smelled of wild flowers. The note simply said...Maggie Johnson, 207 East Street, Apt.4.
She was sure he wouldn't come, but now Maggie was looking at him as he stood in the doorway of her studio apartment. He was there. As difficult as it was to believe, he was there. And there was no more tailored suit to hide the fact that her nipples were stretching the fabric of her tight gray tank top.
Maggie blushed, but she didn't try to cover her breasts. She wanted Jeff to see her obvious desire for him. She wanted him to touch her breasts, to run his fingers over them making them even harder from his fiery touch. But Jeff continued standing in the doorway. His eyes traveled down from her face to her neck. His gaze followed the swell of her breasts and fell on her nipples. It was almost as if he could touch her with his seductive stares. Maggie felt herself grow wet with desire. She moaned and closed her eyes.
She didn't open them until Jeff was standing only inches from her. He was close enough now for Maggie to feel his hot breath on her neck. She longed for him to kiss her. She lifted her face upward anticipating his lips meeting hers. Jeff held her face in his hands before he slowly brought his lips to hers. She could feel how hot and needy he was even though his kisses were soft and gentle at first. As his kisses grew more urgent, his tongue searched for Maggie's.
She pulled him toward the bed. As they sat beside each other, she was finally able to speak. "I can't believe you are here," she sighed. He brushed the hair from her neck and kissed her there and whispered, "I know." He pulled her closer as his lips kissed a line from her neck to her collarbone. He traced it again with his finger and then his tongue. Maggie moaned with pleasure. No one had touched her in such a way.
Jeff slowly began to undress her as his kisses moved down her chest. He watched as her breasts rose and fell. He removed her tank top to expose her bare breasts. Her breasts were beautiful, and Jeff eagerly devoured them with his eyes as his hands slid down her flat stomach and underneath the fabric of her shorts to the lace of her panties. He removed her shorts and then her panties.
Maggie lay there before him on the bed. She watched as he began to remove his shirt. His young, muscled body gleamed with sweat. She fell back against the pillows, watching, enjoying. He unbuttoned his jeans and dropped them to the floor. There he stood over her.
Her naked body had made him hard. She moaned softly at the sight of his hard cock. Jeff slid on top of her then, pressing his cock against her. She closed her eyes and waited. He cupped her breasts and planted hot, passionate kisses on them over and over. She was hot and wet with desire.
He sucked her nipples into his mouth, then pulled and tugged at them with his teeth. His tongue made a line from her nipples down to her stomach until it made it's way along her inner thigh. His tongue circled her inner thigh and traveled toward Maggie's wet, yearning pussy. His tongue explore her. It moved deftly along her swollen clit then darted in and out of her. Maggie's body began to rise and fall each time Jeff entered her with his tongue. He took his hands and caressed her breasts making them firm in his hands. He rolled her on top of him and gently spread her legs. She took his hard cock and helped him find the way the opening of her vagina. He entered her then slowly, deeply. She rocked back and forth on top of him. Her orgasm came swiftly but in long waves. She could feel him swell inside her, begging her for more. She met his every move until their bodies exploded, the fruits of their passion mingled as they came as one in a final thrust.
When it was over, Jeff produced one last carefully creased letter from the pocket of his jeans. This one had fallen from Maggie's mailbox when Jeff had knocked on her door. It was Maggie's letter of tenure from the college. It was the perfect climax to the perfect day.
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