I Have a Crush On…

I have a crush on my professor.

I know. I know. What am I thinking, right? At least read before you shake your finger at me in defiance. I’m a little maniac and hypersexual right now so please excuse the bipolar. Just don’t make direct eye contact with it.

I developed a harmless mini crush on The One Who is a Silver Fox when I took his class last semester. He is nerdy, awkward, has a dry sense of humor and easygoing. That sexy old geezer turns me on like a key in the ignition y’all! He’s divorced, has a preteen year old daughter and is 23 years my senior. He is definitely the oldest man I’ve ever been attracted to. I undressed him with my eyes occasionally and inspected his dick print during lecture. Yeah…dick print. It’s not monstrous but it seems suffice. 

My feelings went through a complete transformation this semester. I have a burning desire for him! I registered specifically for his class. I sit close to him. I watch his mouth as he speaks. I have intense sexual dreams about him. When he accidentally said “sex” instead of “text” during a lecture, I nearly lost it. Perhaps it was a Freudian slip. Ha!

We tend to hold our gazes too long but I chalked it up to familiarity—until last week.  I was sitting in a secluded study area as he was walking to his office. Our eyes met and we greeted each other as usual. Here is where it deviated from the normal—he smiled like a Cheshire cat and stared until he passed the corner! This lasted about 6-7 seconds. I was initially shocked but I proceeded to do the following dance in my head.

Perhaps this milkshake does brings all the boys to the yard.

I could be overreacting. Maybe he didn’t stare as long as I thought. Maybe time only stood still for me. Maybe he was being really friendly that day. Perhaps he was waiting for me to break the glance first. Who knows? But then again…when I’m in another class, he usually stares right at me when he passes by.

Where do we go from here? No damn where! Duh! Typical me would flirt heavily until I secured the penis if couldn’t get anything tangible. I won’t do that this time. I’m tired of rejection, heartache and booty calls. Can a sista get wooed and pursued before she gets nude? The fantasies just seem safer. I can control them. He does what I like. He gives me long stemmed roses, kisses me like I’m the only woman alive and takes me to fancy restaurants in my head. He’s such a gentleman and kinky! Don’t hate.

Speaking of booty calls…a few days ago, The One Who Sets Me On Fire contacted me after vanishing for 2 months and 7 days. The nerve of him! Yes I counted! I told him I was no longer interested. Truth is, I am horny as hell but I didn’t appreciate him tossing me aside until he was ready to play with me again. And the bromance seems to still be going strong so I’ll pass. No thanks. 

Tried to Be Stella & Didn’t Get My Groove Back

(Reader discretion advised y’all)

A few years ago, I worked at a university bookstore during my undergraduate studies. At the bookstore I met a 19-year-old student. Let’s call him The One Who Was Too Young. He always flirted with me and hinted that he was interested in me sexually. I was around 28 at the time and did not take him seriously. He was just a little boy in my mind. Also, I was madly in love with The One Who Didn’t Feel the Same at that time. Anywho…

A few years after departing the bookstore, I would chat with him from time to time. Every so often, he would remind me of his interest but I always brushed him off. Well…up until a few weeks ago. I finally gave in after chatting with him back and forth. How come? I’m not quite sure. I could chalk it up to the hypersexuality, his persistence or the fact that a 25-year-old thought I was sexy. I believe it was a combination of everything. His unwavering interest began to intrigue me. He was not that 19-year-old boy that hinted around anymore. He was bold and downright kinky! He told me about all the naughty things that he wanted to do to me.

Younger men seemed to be all the rage for women in my age group and older. “Do it,” they said. “Younger men have so much stamina,” they said. “Girl, get your groove back,” they said. I began to imagine his stamina. I imagined being 25 again and how ravenous my sexual appetite was. I imagined being enthralled by him. It’s been a long time since I was plowed into oblivion. The thought of new penis was also alluring. I equated it to the new car smell. The anticipation was killing me!

He came over to my apartment a few days later. The vibe was awkward. The small talk was awkward. The flirting was awkward. It was going downhill. I decided to ward off the awkwardness with fellatio. He went bananas. He went so bananas he exclaimed, “We should record this and put it on YouTube! This is off the chain!” Yeah. He said that…YouTube…off the chain. How sexy…

He used one of my dildos on me and that reeked of awkwardness too.  It seemed like he tried to emulate a porn scene. He had no sense of timing nor rhythm. He was trying way too hard. Hello! There’s an art to stroking buddy! He also kept talking, talking and talking. It wasn’t sexy. It was wordy mess! Nothing felt organic. It felt manufactured and amateur to me. I could not wait for it to be over! I went down on him again so he could jizz and get the hell out of my apartment! Aren’t I so accommodating?

As he was about to leave (after jizzing like an uncontrollable faucet), he made a bold move. He stepped back inside and aggressively bent me over to penetrate me. Was he redeeming himself? Was he showing some initiative? Where was the guy several minutes ago? This was going to be awesome! My engine was revving. Well…not for long. He quickly pumped about 3-4 times, pulled out and said, “Yeah. You got good pussy too. I wanted a sample.” He exited my apartment a few moments later. Utter shock rushed over my body. What was this? Was I being punk’d? Where was Ashton? Was Ashton going to fuck me like he hated me after this monstrosity I just endured?

We weren’t in contact for a couple of weeks. He reached out to me and questioned the lack of communication. He also expressed his desire to “see” me again. I declined and told him that we weren’t sexually compatible. It was a hard pill for him to swallow but I think he understood—after several days of pestering me. This experience definitely deserves to be on my list.