The Professor
Jana, Sue and Naz filed into the large lecture hall, clamouring to get into the front row.
"Hey! Watch it!" Kim protested as Jana elbowed her, a fellow student, out of the way.
"Suck it!" she muttered as she pushed past, hastening her pace to the front row of seats.
"Jana! Decorum."
"No time Naz, you know these seats are in demand." Rushing into the front row, she moved up three seats and landed into her own with a relieved sigh. "Yassssss," she squealed, a satisfied smirk on her face.
Naz followed, sitting down with a smidgen more self-control. Sue however, sat down quietly, diligently removing her note-pad and pencil.
"Seriously?" Jana side-eyed her.
"I actually enjoy this class you know."
"Riiiight," Naz said.
"I do!" Sue insisted, then smiled. "Well… among other things like those tight bun-"
"Shhhhh!" Jana hissed. "Shows about to start."
Naz and Sue knew what she referred to. The packed hall went silent as Professor Tom Wisdom entered the lecture hall. The usual raucous died down as breathy sighs and stifled giggles took its place.
This class was popular. Not because of the subject matter - although 20th century poetry had its moments - but because of the Professor. He was, as Jana, Naz and Sue liked referring to him, a hot piece of academic ass. This statement was usually accompanied by, just… damn.
"Good afternoon," the Professor said, all business. He was always all business. He invited no personal talk and made no effort to get to know any of his students. In fact, they were all referred to by their last names, usually with mild ridicule. But his sass only intensified their innocuous adoration.
As he passed them on his way to his desk, their eyes fixed on his behind. "Truly the best seats in the house," Jana breathed to her companions and sent a silent hallelujah to the heavens at the way his pants moulded to his-
The Professor's terse, "E E Cummings. Page 164," interrupted her sinful musings.
"To the point, I see." Sue, her eyes still fixed on the Professor, began paging blindly. Both Naz and Jana made very little effort to move.
"Like every day," Jana croaked, her eyes fixed on his broad shoulders as he wiped the blackboard clean. His shoulder blades moved attractively as his arms worked. It felt as though the room collectively gulped.
"Oi! You lot, focus!" Professor Wisdom snapped to the class in general when it became apparent that very few had heeded his instruction. Sue's book crashed to the floor in her haste to acquiesce to his request, her eyes surreptitiously appreciating the view.
Professor Tom Wisdom was the youngest lecturer at the University. Although not confirmed, rumour had it that someone had blackmailed one of the Administration Clerks to check out his personnel file. His age was therefore reported to be at about 40 and he was very much single. He was tall and lithe; his body clearly muscled beneath his usual button down shirts and those pants that fit… just right.
"Oh dear god, he's wearing the blue button down again," Naz whispered, her fingers fumbling over the pages of the poetry book. He had removed his jacket, stowing it neatly behind his seat, exposing his shirt with the top few buttons undone. It provided a tantalising view of skin.
"Strip tease!" Jana hissed. All three women bit their lip involuntarily.
"Right, Ms Eoll, read the title of the poem please."
Jana only gawked. Professor Wisdom arched one perfect brow, his sometimes blue/green/grey eyes unblinking and serious behind dark rimmed spectacles.
"Jana!" Sue whispered, clearly embarrassed for her friend. Naz nudged Jana in the ribs.
"Ow!" she exclaimed. But it seemed to bring her back to reality.
"The poem. On the page." His eyes flicked down towards the book in front of her, and then back up, his British accent crisp. At that very moment, his tone was also slightly condescending. Truth be told, it only made him more attractive. That was usually when his accent became downright sexy.
Professor Wisdom perched on the corner of his desk, righted his spectacles and peered at Jana, waiting as she scrambled for the correct page.
"Urm…" she began, clearing her throat. "May I feel said he," Jana squeaked.
"Correct… even if it took you a while." In a fluid motion that left them in awe of his economical movement, the class was spellbound as he began pacing back and forth, a wooden ruler tapping across his palm every now and again when he made a particular point.
"Oh my god this poem is about sex!" Jana hissed to Naz who was closest.
"I know! I can't deal. Why is this my life?"
"E E Cummings. Who can tell the class more about the man?"
Sue's hand shot up and Jana rolled her eyes. "Teacher's pet!"
Sue launched into an explanation about Cummings and his works. Both Jana and Naz paid little attention because the Professor was rolling up his sleeves, exposing lightly corded muscle, before resuming his perch on the side of his desk. With his arms braced on the table beside him, the muscles in his forearms flexed and the buttons on the slightly too-tight shirt pulled enticingly.
Jana might have whimpered. "I can't believe the poet's last name is Cummings… considering the subject at hand."
Behind him, the afternoon sun filtered into the room, illuminating the attractive grey peppered throughout his hair. With his greying hair and blue shirt combination, his eyes appeared a piercing blue.
"This is torture. He's a god. Help!" Naz replied.
Those eyes, their shrewd intelligence highlighted behind those damned sexy spectacles found a victim at the back of the room.
"Miss Spores, please read the poem to the class."
Kim, the English major Jana had bumped into earlier sat three rows back. She began reading; a quick peak at her proved her cheeks were a little flushed.
may I feel said he
(I'll squeal said she
just once said he)
it's fun said she
(may I touch said he
how much said she
a lot said he)
why not said she
(let's go said he
not too far said she
what's too far said he
where you are said she)
may I stay said he
(which way said she
like this said he
if you kiss said she
may I move said he
is it love said she)
if you're willing said he
(but you're killing said she
but it's life said he
but your wife said she
now said he)
ow said she
(tiptop said he
don't stop said she
oh no said he)
go slow said she
(cccome? said he
ummm said she)
you're divine! said he
(you are Mine said she)
"This is practically porn!" Jana said.
He was pacing again. "The title itself evokes certain thoughts in most people's minds, and as the poem is read out loud, it reinforces the first impression of what the poem is about."
"I can't cope with the way his pants are-" Naz was cut off when those eyes found her.
"And what do you think it's about?"
She squirmed in her seat. "Sex?"
A scandalised giggle ripped across the room, releasing the tension everyone felt. The arched brow was back, his lips pressed together. He might have been amused. Might have. But no one was sure.
"An affair," Kim ventured, her own brows raised as a challenge, a flirtatious smirk across her face.
"Indeed Miss Spores. Cummings' poetry often deals with themes of love and nature, as well as the relationship of the individual to the masses and to the world. His poems are also often rife with satire."
Professor Wisdom continued his lecture, scrawling across the blackboard. At one point, he cracked the wooden ruler across his desk to emphasise his meaning and all three women jumped.
"ARGH, HE COULD WIELD THAT WEAPON ON ME," Jana wrote onto her notepad and angled it towards her friends.
"LIKE A WHIP," Naz added.
"IT CERTAINLY CRACKED ACROSS THAT DESK LIKE A WHIP!" Sue wrote, encircling the word whip with a heart.
"SUCH SKILL."
"SPANK ME."
"DAMMIT FOCUS!"
"YOU KNOW YOU WANT HIM TO, SUE."
"THOSE LIPS THOUGH. I COULD SUC-"
Sue never finished her note because the Professor spoke, "That will be all for this week. Your papers are due on Friday. Do not disappoint me."
Outside, Jana asked, "Why do I always leave his class feeling so unsatisfied?"
"He leaves us wanting more," Naz said with a sigh, her cheeks still flushed.
"He's a tease," Sue interjected.
Jana rolled her eyes. "Come on, lets get something cool to drink."
"Are you kidding?" Naz replied. "We need to be dunked in a damned ice box. That's what its going to take to cool me down."
"Until next week…" Sue said and the three friends burst out laughing. "We love the torture don't we?"
"You bet!" Jana said with a wink. "Is it next week yet?"
A/N: May I Feel Said He is a poem by EE Cummings
