Sophie and the Professor

[Sophie_B]

**Closed for Sophie_B and ProfessorMarshall**

Please allow me to introduce Sophie. She is a 20 year old student in a large college in the northeast. Sophie is very bright and has earned her tuition through scholarships. She is 5’5, with chestnut brown hair which falls to her shoulders in soft curls. She is rounded, soft, and has no idea how gorgeous she really is.

Sophie is surrounded by all the beautiful college coeds with blonde hair, and lots of boyfriends and she doesn’t always feel that she fits in well with the others, so she buries her head in her books and studies. The actions of her peers have her rapt attention and intrigue her a lot. In the midst of her wakening sexual observations, and being away from home for the first time has also helped her to notice her Psych professor, Mr. Marshall.

[ProfessorMarshall]

Harrison Marshall has reached that age where youthful dreams start to give way to cold hard reality. He's still young enough to remember his idealistic college days, but the memories sometimes seem like someone else to him.

His 30th birthday has come and gone and he can see 40 looming on the horizon with a sign on it that says, "No Exit" ("God, I hate Sarte," he can't help thinking.) When he started college, it was decided he would pursue pre-law with the hope of landing in an impressive, Ivy League school. It was after working one summer as a bartender in a tiki bar in Key West that he changed to psychology. He found himself fascinated at the inner workings of people's minds. Like snowflakes, no two were ever alike.

With his parents disapproval, Harrison (never Harry -- at the bar they'd called him Marsh and he always liked the informal sound of it) set out to finish college on his own dime. Working two jobs while finishing up his degree, his grades suffered. That, and a lack of funding, kept him from graduate work and his dream of being a clinical psychologist. "I'll teach for a little while," he told himself nearly ten years ago. Not yet tenured, never married, Marshall lives alone in a small house within walking distance to the university.

[Sophie_B]

Sophie was a late bloomer. By the time her breasts and hips began to fill in all the gaps in her clothes, all the other girls were yards ahead. Her face thinned a bit, her legs grew a bit longer, and her lush full breasts were often concealed behind the stack of books clutched tightly to her chest or nearly indistinguishable beneath the ghastly matronly sweaters she wore at her mother’s request.

The moment she saw him; heard his voice, she was enchanted. Her mom had raised her as a single parent and there weren’t a lot of men around. Sophie often developed deep crushes on older authoritative male role models. Perhaps to replace the father she had never known.

[ProfessorMarshall]

Marshall had been engaged a few years ago. She was a nurse who had been part of a seminar that Marshall had attended. At 5'2", she was nearly a foot shorter than Marshall but he fell hard for this petite blond with the mysterious eyes. On the one-year anniversary of their first date, Marshall took her to the finest restaurant in town and, after a glass of champagne, got down on one knee and offered her the ring he'd agonized over for weeks. Other diners smiled, the women clasping hands to their throats in tacit approval of the romantic gesture. And then, with every eye in the place on the happy couple, she said, "No."

He didn't know which hurt worse: Her response or his inability -- as a psychology expert, no less -- to read the situation.

Marshall recommitted himself to his teaching after that. Sure, he noticed the women on campus, particulary in the springtime after months of concealing themselves in heavy winter clothing. "Tenure," he told himself. That promise, and frequent mental recitation of the Gettysburg Address kept him from acting on his fantasies.

Until...

[Sophie_B]

Sophie thought about Mr. Marshall from the moment he called her name during role on the first day of his class. As he breezed through the syllabus, she rested her cheek on her hand observing him, or rather, studying him. She watched as his tall form crossed the floor. He seemed to be very at ease with himself and she liked that. He certainly wasn’t like any of her other instructors; with their staunch appearance and mannerisms.

Despite all her hard work on his assignments and listening intently to his lectures, he didn’t seem to notice her. One day, as she was leaving the class, she dropped a paper near the door.

“Here, Miss Blake, right? You dropped this…” said Marshall and handed the white piece of paper in front of him.

“Oh..yes... Thanks Professor Marshall…” Sophie responded, blushing to the cotton of her panties.

[ProfessorMarshall]

There was something in the shyness that intrigued him. Sophie was a minimalist when it came to applying makeup, but she had one of those faces that didn't really need it. She always dressed as if she was apologizing for her body instead of accentuating it but there was no doubt, there was something happening under that sweater. More importantly, there was something happening behind those eyes.

"So tell me, Miss Blake," Marshall backed up to his desk and sat down on top of it, "how'm I doing? You think I'm getting through to these guys?" He swept his hand in quick indication of the empty classroom. "Or are y'all here because you heard Old Man Marshall was an easy A?"

[Sophie_B]

Sophie’s eyes widened and she looked at the floor. She tried to respond but her tongue felt three sizes too big for her mouth and she was stunned that he actually spoke to her. To HER!

“Um..ahh, OH! Well, to be honest, I think you’re doing a great job Professor Marshall, but as a matter of fact, that last chapter that we covered was a little confusing to me. I was wondering if maybe I could make an appointment to discuss some of those theories you had mentioned, in greater depth.”

Sophie tried to squeeze her thighs together tightly beneath her tweed skirt, with the hope that Marshall wouldn’t notice her legs trembling. She gripped the bindings of her books beneath her fingers nervously as she waited for his response…

[ProfessorMarshall]

"Mister. I'm just a mister. Although I like the way it sounds. Professor. Like I should be on an island somewhere making a nuclear reactor out of two coconuts and some duct tape while totally lacking the ability to fix a two-foot hole in a boat."

Marshall looked into Sophie's confused eyes. "You don't have a clue what I'm talking about, do you?"

She shook her head slowly. Marshall couldn't help but laugh. "Don't feel bad. It's not that important. When would you like to get together?"

[Sophie_B]

“Well…as soon as we can really, we have a quiz tomorrow don’t we? I mean, I think I need to understand the material before the quiz and especially before we move forward…I mean before the next chapter. This mating ritual thing has got me really confused.”

Sophie tried not to look into his eyes, but she wanted so desperately to see them. She liked the role she had carried for so many years; to be in the background. She almost wished she was invisible, so she could see him and look all she wanted. With him a couple of feet from her, she thought surely he could see the stirrings she had for him, in the depths of her eyes. She decided it was best to watch his mouth as he spoke to her; then she wouldn’t have to encounter his gaze straight on.

[ProfessorMarshall]

"Mating," Marshall said. He remembered the ring in his hand and the look of pure shock on her face. "I have problems with that too. Sounds like we need to deal with it quickly, then. This evening? I would recommend anywhere but my office. It's small, I share it with two other non-professor types and frankly it smells since I lost that baloney sandwich in there last June."

Marshall thought he detected a smile on Sophie's perfect face but she might have just thought he was being weird. Still, he couldn't help wondering how that skin would feel under his fingers. His lips.

[Sophie_B]

“Well, somewhere quiet, I think that would be best. What would you recommend Professor Marshall?” <oh my God, will I be alone with him? His mouth is perfect…I wonder if it’s as warm as his smile…>

Sophie silently prayed that he would choose somewhere secluded. She wanted him to herself, (apart from any other co-ed who might capture his attention) and besides, she felt surely if any other student or faculty member saw her with him, they would see right through her and figure out she had a crush on him. Besides, she didn’t want him to get into trouble for “fraternizing” with a student.

[ProfessorMarshall]

Marshall felt himself at a crossroads. There were a number of "associates" (he hesitated to call them "friends") on the faculty staff who regulary boasted about bagging an impressionable co-ed. Some even exchanged grades for exemplary effort, including one professor who used a substantial part of her research grant for "The Writings of Sappho of Lesbos: A Contemporary Corollary Analysis" on fine wine and not-so-cheap hotel rooms.

Marshall decided early on not to be "that guy." Sure, he'd had his share of sorority girls who flashed their sparkingly waxed pubes to him from the front row of the class room. It was why he'd requested, and received, the old oak desk that sat at the front of his classroom. Seated safely behind it's wooden walls, no one could see the arousal these oversexed young girls had caused.

He'd once had a lithe gymnast seat herself on the desk facing him after class and boast of her flexibility. "I can put both ankles behind my ears. Wanna see?" she asked seductively.

"Fourscoreandsevenyearsago," Marshall remembered thinking at the time.

Yet, even with brazen young women virtually throwing hot pussy at him, Marshall had not succumbed to his desires. Not yet, anyway.

There was something different about Sophie. It was the shy, unsure way she was essentially throwing herself at him.

Marshall wasn't stupid. Sophie had a fantasy playing in her head. And there was something so sexy in the way she was talking to him that he was tempted to jump inside her head and play it out with her.

"Somewhere quiet, huh?" he finally said. "Well, that leaves out the library. That place is a zoo."
Sophie laughed and her breath seemed to catch in her throat. Marshall wondered if she knew how seductive her innocence was. "How do you feel about chili, Miss Blake?"

[Sophie_B]

Sophie swallowed hard and blinked; twice.

“Um, yes, I like chili, why?” she managed to blurt out, her composure was held intact, thankfully, and her heart was pounding so fast she thought it would explode.

[ProfessorMarshall]

"I checked the weather this morning. Tonight is supposed to be cold and wet -- perfect chili weather. Now, I don't want to brag..." Marshall leaned closer to Sophie and place the side of his hand to his mouth as if he was about to share an intimate secret. As she leaned closer to listen, Marshall could feel her heat, smell her soft perfume.

"...my grandfather," he said in a stage whisper, "made the greatest chili in Northeast Texas. He'd freeze it in big blocks and people would come from miles away to have him saw off a piece so they could take it home and claim it as their own."

Marshall leaned back. "Grandad died penniless in a Veterans' home. The only thing he left me was the recipe. When I heard the weather report, I threw some ingrediants together. It's simmering in the crockpot as we speak."

Sophie hadn't made a sound but Marshall could see she was still breathing. Rather rapidly. "There's plenty," he told her, "if you'd care to join me. Say...six-thirty. Sevenish?"

[Sophie_B]

“Great! I’ll see you then…”

Sophie hurried home and threw her books on the bed. She looked at the clock and decided she better get moving if she was going to decide what she would wear and get ready for her “session” with Professor Marshall.

She didn’t know what she could possibly be thinking. What’s the worst that could happen? Sophie was not a virgin, but the few times which she had actually engaged in sex with a suitor, it had been an awkward and humiliating experience.

Her first time had been with a “jock” in high school. He was her first real crush. He was in her biology class and Sophie had tutored him during a particularly difficult unit, during sports season and with Sophie’s help, he was able to play in the “big game”. He felt he was doing Sophie a big favor by having sex with her in the back of his Mustang after a slasher film and popcorn. He repaid all her hard effort by shoving his tongue down her throat and groping her to the point of bruises on her tender young breasts. He helped himself to helping her out of her jeans, roughly, and then, after a few quick thrusts, spilled his sticky seed all over her thighs. She cried her self to sleep that night and was sore for three days.

The next time, it was after the prom. She had gone with a boy that was the son of one of her mom’s friends. He was tall and thin and very awkward. He didn’t talk much and could barely look Sophie in the eye. They had punch and cookies and stood in the corner while the rest of the couples danced, and after they had their picture taken, they left in his father’s Buick. Sophie invited him in and discovered her mom had gone out for the evening.

They sat on the couch and had a soda, and before she knew it, he was fumbling at her clothes and tugging at his own. Sophie felt really sorry for him, and as she pulled her dress over her head and exposed her round young breasts heaving out the top of her strapless bra, his face contorted and he made a pathetic groaning sound. He had a big spot on the front of his camel colored trousers and he covered the area with his hand and darted out the door. “Thanks for everything Sophie…” his voice crackled as the door slammed. Sophie decided that sex wasn’t worth all the fuss and put all her effort into her studies.

All her lonely evenings and weekends had paid off in spades because she had a great scholarship to a prestigious college. Life had been grand and her aspirations high until she met Professor Marshall. She thought about him all the time since she saw him that first day in class. Even had watched him whiz by on his bike here and there, as he hurried to class or a lecture. She watched from the back when other girls batted their lashes and swished their hips in his direction, but he didn’t seem to pay them much attention. She watched his mouth move when he talked in class. Memorized the pitch of his voice when he spoke her name when he called roll, and thought she would faint when he smiled. She began to imagine elaborate scenarios in her head about what it would be like to be touched by him. How he would kiss her, hold her. After all, he was a man; not the “boys” she had been with. She resigned to herself that if she EVER were to have sex and get married, she would want it to be a man like Professor Marshall. Here she was, gong to meet with him, alone; his undivided attention.

She took a shower and washed her hair. As she stood in front of the mirror, she wiped away the steam and leaned closer and gave a quick assesment of her features. What was she worried about and who did she think she was kidding? How could someone as wonderful as Professor Marshall ever see in her?

She combed out her hair and rubbed some jasmine scented lotion into her arms and freshly shaven legs, and over her torso. She went to her dresser and donned a white Lycra bra, (the one she kept for special occasions) and flower printed cotton bikini panties. She decided to forego tights or pantyhose; it was the most risque and daring she had ever felt in her life.

She returned to the mirror and applied a little eyeliner, mascara and a little blush on her cheeks. Pleased with the results, she went to the dressing area and after careful consideration, decided on a pale blue turtleneck and a short wool skirt.

She took extra time to dry her hair carefully. She brushed with long smooth strokes as she dried it, and left it free, around her shoulders. One last look at the mirror; she applied a little lip gloss and gathered her books into her book bag and slipped her feet into her oxford loafers. As she headed to the door, her roommate, Ashley, was entering.

“Where ya going Soph?” she said as she dropped her bag and fell onto the bed.

“Oh, um, out. I’m going to study. I have a quiz tomorrow. See ya later!” Sophie scurried out the door and down the hall before anyone else could stop and ask her questions.

[ProfessorMarshall]

The hot water felt wonderful on Marshall's skin. What is it about hot showers that makes them a religious experience? The heat? The steam? The sensation of water massaging the skin.

He'd hit the weight room at the university gym harder than usual. Ab press, shoulder press, chin ups, dips...the workout seemed to go faster than usual. Maybe it was the extra adrenalin. Extra something, anyway.

Ordinarily he'd run to the gym and then back home, but a gray curtain had rolled in and the distinct rumbling of thunder in the distance made him take the car instead. "I'll run tomorrow," he promised himself.

Once home, Marshall tossed his keys on the entry table and ran to the shower, stripping on the way and leaving his clothes in a Hansel and Grettle motif all along the corridor.

Now, under the clensing spray, his mind started time traveling hours into the past. Sophie. Up until this afternoon, she was just another student. He'd never really looked into her eyes before. She'd never been close enough for him to breathe in her scent, to notice the womanly body she'd tried to camouflage. As she'd left the classroom that afternoon, Marshall became aware of the sexy bottom walking away from him.

She'd gotten to him. And now she was coming over to discuss mating and eat chili and...

And...

Fourscoreandsevenyearsago...

As he lathered his stomach and groin, Marshall took his semi-erect penis in his hand and stroked it to hard steel. "Maybe I need to relieve a little pressure to keep from making a fool of myself," he thought. He tried to picture Sophie, as she might look in his shower right now -- wet hair framing her sweet face, her damp breasts rising and falling with her rapid breathing, nipples hard and begging for attention...

Marshall released his cock and grabbed the faucet, turning the hot water off and letting the cold wash over his face. "Shittttt..." he said, spitting water.

[Sophie_B]

Sophie was about a block from the dorm when she heard the first rumble of thunder. She stopped and looked up at the sky and watched the grey clouds churning above her. It was then she remembered that she had left her umbrella on the desk in her room. She had placed it there with the intention of taking it, but when Ashley came in; she was in a rush to make her exit and had forgotten it. She contemplated turning back and grabbing it before the rain started but decided she didn’t want to answer any questions that other dorm mates may raise, and a big part of her screamed that she would just plain “chicken out” if she went back now. She folded her arms close to her chest and forged forward.

She reached another two blocks before the sky opened up, and that it did. By the time Sophie reached the block where Marshall lived, she looked as though someone had dumped a bucket of water over her head. Hot tears stung her eyes and her throat was thick, struggling to choke back the sobs that formed there. She wanted to look her best when she arrived at Professor Marshall’s place. Now she’d look like a drowned cat and she felt terribly embarrased. Maybe he had a porch or something. Maybe she could sit there until the rain let up and she could go back home. Maybe she should just turn around and forget the whole thing…

There was his house. She trudged up the walk, her legs slick with rain and her wet loafers caused her feet to slide a bit within the leather. She raised her hand to knock and that was when he opened the door. It was too late to back out now…

[ProfessorMarshall]

"Why the HELL couldn't they throw me out of Scouts AFTER I learned to build a fire?" Marshall was trying to wave the smoke back into the fireplace. It didn't help that his kindling was wet. But then, he didn't think of building the fire until he saw that it was raining buckets outside. A good fire would take the chill off. It would take some of the dampness out of the air. It would set a romantic mood. And it wouldn't be so obvious because it was raining.

As the paper and kindling was finally enveloped in flame, Marshall strategically placed two good-sized logs into the fireplace. It would have to do.

He spanked the dust from his hands and picked his sportcoat up off the couch. Jeans, t-shirt, sportcoat...showed he was trying but not too hard. He wanted to be casual. The last thing he needed right now was Sophie looking at him like some old guy trying to be hep. Hip. Hip-hop. Fuck!

A bright flash of lightning made him look momentarily out the front window. He couldn't believe what he saw.

I had never occurred to him the Sophie might not have a car. Obviously drenched to the skin, Sophie was hesitating on the sidewalk in front of Marshall's house. She turned away once as if leaving, then -- drawing a deep breath -- fortified her courage enough to proceed up the front walk.

Marshall opened the door before she had a chance to knock. She tried to smile but failed dismally. "Get in here," he said taking her arm and pulling her through the front door.

Sophie's hair stuck to her face, framing her chisled features and soft lips in a gorgeous, dripping mass.

Her clothes stuck to her body like a second skin and Marshall realized his original assessment of Sophie was completely off the mark. He'd underestimated her body.

Her breasts were perfectly proportioned to her body. She was obviously chilled by the rain. Her nipples were hard and Marshall noted with pleasure that they were positioned on the upswell of her firm breast.

Her wool skirt was plastered against her ass and thighs. She was leaving a pool on his hardwood floor.

Lightning flashed and loud blast of thunder rocked the house. Sophie jumped and the next thing Marshall knew he was holding the young co-ed against him.

"I'm so sorry, Sophie, I didn't know you'd be walking." She was shivering in his arms and Marshall couldn't tell if it was from cold or embarrassment or both. He could feel his erection stirring in his jeans. He took Sophie's arms in his hands and held her away from his body, looking her in the face.

"Go." He pointed down the hallway. "Shower. No argument. NOW."

[Sophie_B]

Sophie didn’t have time to think, let alone speak. Her mind sent flashes of ‘what are you doing?’ But her body said, ‘wait and see what happens’. She set down her book bag and walked in the general direction of the bathroom. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it. There was silence on the other side of the door, but Sophie knew Marshall was on the other side; somewhere. It was enough.

It felt a bit strange to be in his bathroom. She closed her eyes for a moment and just let the reality set in. She took a deep breath and just inhaled the surroundings. She looked around a bit as she began to peel her dripping clothing from her body. Her sweater was heavy with water and she peeled it over her head and let it fall to the floor with a plop. She then reached behind her back to unzip her skirt which then joined its counterpart in a heap on the floor. She reached once again and unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor and peeling her wet panties down her legs completed her undressing.

She liked the big claw foot tub against the wall, and the wood rack full of fresh towels. She stepped over to the tub and turned on the water, and traced her fingers through the stream, waiting for it to warm. She stepped in front of the sink and looked at herself in the mirror. Her mascara had turned her appearance to that of a raccoon, while her hair looked stringy and clung to her face and neck. She made a face at her self but decided a nice warm shower would certainly ‘freshen’ her up a bit; it couldn’t hurt!

Sophie stepped into the deep tub and pulled the curtain closed around her. She let the hot water warm her and the stream relaxed her a bit. The reality that she was in Professor Marshall’s shower, in his home, did little to quell her apprehension. She trusted that he wouldn’t do anything inappropriate, but well, he was Professor Marshall… The shampoo felt wonderful through her fingers, through her hair, and her mind kept escaping to the reminder that all these things were his and she was surrounded.

She kept getting a tightening feeling, a warm rush; wash over her torso when she thought about it, when she thought about him… She ran her hands over her torso to help rinse the remains of the shampoo from her form and her fingers grazed her breasts; her nipples. They puckered so tightly and quickly they actually tingled. The feeling sent a shiver down her belly and nestled between her legs and Sophie actually sighed out loud. Her hand traced over her belly as the hot stream of the shower blanketed her with its warmth and then it happened…

All went black; the power went out!

[ProfessorMarshall]

Marshall had been standing by the fireplace, drying his wet clothes, when he saw the bolt that took away the power. It sliced the sky outside the window and, in the stacatto burst of thunder that followed, left him standing with only the flickering flames of the fire for illumination.

Instantly, his mind went to the young girl in his bathroom.

"Sophie?" he called. He picked a candle off the mantle and lit it from the box of matches he'd left there after starting the fire. Then, striding down the hallway, he called out again.

"Sophie?"

He reached for the doorknob, then stopped. If she was embarrassed before, this would really be a buzz kill. He couldn't just walk in. He recalled Jimmy Stewart in It's A Wonderful Life with Donna Reed naked in the bushes right in front of him. "This is an interesting situation," Stewart proclaimed.

Marshall rapped a knuckle lightly on the door. "Sophie?"

[Sophie_B]

Sophie tried not to panic. She stood there for a moment and then reached down with her hands and pushed the plunged to stop the shower and switch to the faucet, and then she turned off the water. When she did so, she heard a light tap on the door…

“Sophie?” He called out to her through the door.

[ProfessorMarshall]

Marshall heard the water stop, but Sophie didn't answer. She was probably terrified -- standing naked in a strange bathroom, unable to see her hand in front of her face except in the strobe of lightning.

Marshall turned the knob and opened the door just a crack. "Sophie, I've got a candle for you. I'm just going to put it over here on the sink. I'm not looking...just...over here on the sink...ok?"

Lightning bleached the darkness from the room. In one all too brief flash, Marshall saw her.

"Gggoddd," came involuntarily from his throat.

He backed out of the bathroom and closed the door, leaning against it momentarily to regain his composure. "Ok," he said at last. "Ok. Um...there's a robe on the back of the door. It's clean. You're welcome to put it on. Bring your clothes out and we'll hang them by the fireplace." He paused. "You ok, Sophie?"

[Sophie_B]

“Yes I’m fine, Professor Marshall. Did you say something?” She thought she heard him speak but then again, may have been a groan or something. Perhaps he bumped himself, stumbling in the dark, or worse! Over the clothes she left on the floor.

He offered the use of his robe for her to wear while her clothes dried. <How thoughtful! It’s so sweet of him to be so kind; I feel so embarrassed.>

“Thanks, I’ll be right out.” Sophie replied through the curtain. She stood there, waiting to hear the door close before she opened it and stepped out of the tub, reaching for one of the towels on the shelf.

She fluffed her hair a bit first with the thick fluffy towel, and then dried her face and neck and then, starting with her arms, patted her body dry. She wrapped it around her torso and then looked around for where she had set her purse. Oh yes…on the floor near her clothes.

She rooted around inside until she found a hair pick and a small tube of lotion. As she set down her purse, she happened to notice a neat pile of Professor Marshall’s clothes in the corner. On top was the shirt he had on in class that day. She reached her hand out and ran her fingers over the fabric lightly. So soft… She lifted it and brushed it against her cheek. <Oh God it smells so good> She held it to her face and took a deep breath, inhaling his scent. She smiled.

She set down the shirt and walked over to the sink and mirror and reassessed her appearance. She smiled at what she saw. In the gold glow of the candlelight, her face was radiant. No more raccoon eyes! The hot shower had left her cheeks a rosy pink and her hair was in soft ringlets, framing her face. She combed her hair, set the wet towel on the floor and rubbed some lotion into her limbs and torso. Her gaze was captured by the small white mug containing a brush, soap and a razor. Having not had a lot of men around during her life, it was foreign to see a razor anywhere but near the tub for shaving legs, but the mug and brush seemed to fit Professor Marshall. All of a sudden the realization that he was out there, on the other side of the bathroom door waiting for her washed over her and she couldn’t wait to go see him. She lifted the robe from the door and slid her arms into it. She wrapped it snugly around her bare skin and retrieving the candle he had brought for her and her wet clothes, opened the door and headed back to the living room.

[ProfessorMarshall]

Marshall tossed the first Scotch back without ice. It burned all the way down in an oh-so-nice way.

She said she was ok. He dropped some ice cubes in his glass and poured more Scotch over them. Then he carried the glass back to the fireplace.

Sophie walked into the living room carrying her wet clothes and the candle he had taken her. Beautiful didn't seem to be a strong enough word. She nearly dropped her load of wet clothes before Marshall came to his senses. He realized he'd been staring. He quickly sat the glass on the mantle and turned to help Sophie with her wet clothes.

"Sorry," he said, "chivalry isn't dead, it just got distracted."

[Sophie_B]

Professor Marshall was standing near the fireplace having a drink when Sophie entered the room. The room was filled with the light the fireplace generated and it cast dancing shadows on the walls. Sophie didn’t have a fireplace in her home growing up, so it was her first real chance to enjoy the heat and warmth that it gave off. Not that she needed warming up. The sight of this handsome man in his jacket and jeans did plenty to warm her up. There was that warm tingly rush through her again.

She wasn’t sure where to set the candle, or her clothes in order that they’d dry properly. he looked at her intently. His eyes never wavered. Longingly was the word. As though he was seeing her for the first time, and was extremely pleased. <So this is what it feels like for a woman to be desired by a man...> Marshall seemed mesmerized by her standing there. She blushed and cleared her throat before he came to and offered to help.

“Um, do you happen to have a couple of hangers that I can use to hang my clothes so they dry better?” Sophie asked as Professor Marshall took the candle from her hand and placed it on the coffee table.

As he left the room to go get hangers, Sophie hung her panties and bra on the tool rack on the hearth. She looked around the room. From what she could see, Professor Marshall’s place looked just like she thought it would. There were stacks of books everywhere and the room was otherwise cozy, with a scattering of antiques and just a touch of sports paraphernalia, and a few personal photos completed the ambience. The crackle of the fire, the smell of the wood, the furniture and the scent of the old books combined perfect to smell just exactly like professor Marshall. A warm smile crossed her lush lips as she stepped forward and ran her fingers over the bindings of the books.

When he returned, she smiled and thanked him, and then after quickly hanging her sweater and skirt, settled on the couch with the robe wrapped tightly about her. She tucked her legs beneath her and settled a pillow in her lap. She was situated far enough onto the couch that she could rest her head against the back, sitting sideways, facing Professor Marshall.

“So, Professor Marshall, what can you teach me about mating?”