The One Night Stand Turns Out To Be My Professor

11

11

Sophia’s POV

“Wake up, sleepy head,” I said tiredly, tapping Jenny gently. She groaned, turning around on the bed and burying her face in her pillow. We had stayed up late, binge watching a series and stuffing our faces with junks. And now she was sleeping in and I was having some kind of stomach ache.

I ran my hands through my hair in frustration and tapped her once again. “Wake up. Jenny.”

“What? Leave me alone,” she murmured, snuggling her pillow.

“You’re gonna be late for class,” I said flatly and walked away from her then sat on my bed, taking calming breaths. I had already had my bath so all I just needed was to get dressed and leave for class.

“It’s just the first day. It’s not really necessary to attend. And I don’t think they’d do anything anyways,” she groaned.

“This isn’t high school, Jenny,” I reminded her. “We’re in college now. We need to be even more serious than ever.”

“Yeah and why haven’t you left yet? You can’t seriously be waiting for me,” she murmured, sitting up on the bed.

“Why would I wait for you?” I asked with a scoff. “I have a stomach ache,” I explained.

She went rigid. “How serious? Do we need to go to the hospital?”

“There’s no need for that,” I assured her.

“Really?” She asked.

I nodded. “Yeah there isn’t any need for that. I just need to take a pain relief drug,” I assured her.

“Or you should just take the day off from school?” She asked, a sly smile appearing on her face.

“Shut up,” I rolled my eyes. “That’s not gonna work. We’re going to school today.”

“Ugh. Whatever,” she answered, getting up from her bed. “You better be dressed by the time I finish bathing.”

“Aye aye, captain,” I answered with a roll of my eyes and got up from my bed, walking to my own wardrobe and grabbing the first top and skirt that I saw.

I quickly dressed up and paired it with black flats then combed my hair and let it down. Sighing, I pushed my hair behind my ears and waited patiently for Jenny to finish with bathing. I wasn’t really in a hurry. My timetable said that the first class was in the afternoon anyway and this was just nine am.

After a few minutes, Jenny came out of the bathroom and hurriedly got dressed. Her first class was eleven am and she needed to get there early.

She hurriedly got dressed and then we left the dorm together.

It was already time for my class and it took me a few minutes to locate my lecture hall with a few girls.

As I walked into the large, echoing lecture hall, my heart pounded with a mixture of nerves and excitement. I looked around, the class was filled with students. It only made this feel more real. My first college class. I was finally a college student. An adult.

My first class was history. I had always loved history, and I was eager to immerse myself in the stories of the past, that’s why I had chosen it as part of my elective courses.

The air buzzed with the murmur of other students settling into their seats, flipping open notebooks, and tapping away on laptops. I found a spot near the middle, pulled out my new notebook, and clicked my pen, ready to take notes.

The syllabus I had read online just a few hours ago, had mentioned Professor Ian Grant. His name sounded distinguished, like someone who would wear tweed jackets with elbow patches and speak with a rich, authoritative voice. I imagined he would be the kind of professor who made history come alive, who transported you to different eras with his words.

Or maybe he was the grim type. Then the class wouldn’t be so enjoyable and I might be forced to drop it.

After a few minutes, the door in front of the lecture hall opened and a man walked in.

All of a sudden, my heart started beating so fast. Too fast. I didn’t know why. I couldn’t understand why my body was reacting like this.

I inhaled deeply as he set his things on his table and looked up. My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a rush of heat flood my face. It was him. The man I had a hot one-night stand with last week.

Professor Ian. Grant. My one-night stand was my history professor.

He walked to the front of the room with an air of confidence, his presence commanding the attention of every student. I couldn’t believe it. His eyes swept over the students and I found myself shrinking in my seat. My mind raced back to that night. It was supposed to be a fun, no-strings-attached encounter, a wild moment of fun and recklessness before I left home. Now, that wild moment was standing in front of me, about to teach me the history of the world.

“Good morning, everyone,” he began, his voice steady and composed, just as I had imagined, but now laced with a familiarity that sent shivers down my spine. “Welcome to History 101. I’m Professor Ian Grant.”

His eyes scanned the room, and for a fleeting moment, they landed on me. I felt a jolt of electricity, his gaze holding mine and I shrank further into my seat. Fuck. Fuck. I shouldn’t have gone to him that night.

I tried to look away, to focus on the notebook in front of me, but my mind was a whirlwind of emotions. How was I going to focus with this man teaching me? All I could think of was how well he fucked me that night.

He started the lecture, talking about the course outline, the importance of studying history, and the fascinating topics we would cover. But I couldn’t focus. All I could think about was that night. The way he had looked at me, touched me, kissed me. The way his fingers had felt inside of me. The way he had felt inside of me.

Oh God.

What am I going to do?