She had to admit it, she was infatuated with her anthropology instructor. It wasn’t like she was some post-pubescent freshman. She was almost a junior, and she’d had plenty of experience with men. She was mesmerized by his words, by the subject matter, and by the amount of testosterone he brought into a room when he entered.
She sat in the front row and remained in a sexually heightened state for the entire hour three times per week. His scent announced his arrival. He always came in just a little late, his dark hair wet and slicked back, freshly shaved face, with long side burns. He wasn’t that tall, but he was fit, and the remainder of his morning wood was still evident in the cut of his well worn jeans.
A couple of girls thought to bring him a cup of coffee. On the first day he had announced that everyone there should be thankful to have him for a teacher, realize that he was up late correcting their assignments and papers, and someone should bring him a cup of coffee to improve his mood in the mornings. Ever since then he had multiple offers. A few girls began bringing him coffee everyday. He had his choice. It was an honor to be chosen to bring him coffee.
Kristie never brought him coffee. “Humph! He should be bringing me coffee!” she thought. But she did watch him intently as he paced back and forth in front of the class as he lectured. She took in his smell each time he passed in front of her. God! She wanted to fuck him so bad!
She took copious notes, actually read all of the assignments put on reserve in the library, as well as two entire books on the Yanomamo of South America and the Harmless People of Africa. She took every class he taught, and signed up for special classes he offered in meditation and hypnotism. She also took an extra class during intersession called “The Anthropology of Religious Experience.” She got an A or an A+ on every paper, test or project she submitted.
She was smitten, but she knew she was not his type. She was a buxom, bawdy older co-ed . He liked the lithe young blonds sitting in the back row he invited out to play afternoon tennis. The tennis partnership and the affair would usually last through one semester.
Kristie was out singing with her band one night when Dr. Bonobo approached. He was flirting unabashedly. He was interested in a hook up and she was pleased to know that even though he had dismissed her as a possibility when she was taking his classes, now he obviously wanted her.
In spite of the temptation, she would say, “No, thank you. I’m very flattered, but I’m in a serious relationship… ” She had been dating Jack for two years and they had moved in together. It wasn’t worth the trade to her. One night with Dr. Bonobo would never equal the ten thousand nights she would spend with Jack.
She knew then that she would never cheat on Jack. She had never been faithful to any man before. But if she could resist Dr. Bonobo, then she knew she was deeply committed. Besides, she’d been with enough men to know exactly what Dr. B would be like in bed. She felt as if she could still count him as “One of the Thousand” as she liked to joke since he had made serious advances at last.
(First published 3/19/12)
