My New College Professor Pt. 01

*Everyone in this story is over 18.*

Last fall, I started my sophomore year of college. I was 20 and had just gotten back to campus after spending the summer at my family's home a few hours away. I'm on the rowing team here and attending on a partial scholarship, so I spent most of the summer training. When I wasn't training, I was in the bars and clubs of nearby cities hoping to find a girl to fuck. Luckily it wasn't too hard, the rowing and training kept me fit and I like to think I'm at least decently attractive. Good build, brown hair that I kept pretty short, and blue eyes.

I was glad to be back on campus, though. My family and I don't always get along and it's a lot easier to find pretty girls on a college campus. I packed my backpack for my first day of classes. I'm a business major (I know, big surprise), so my bag was mostly just accounting textbooks and a few notebooks.

I had my first class--Principles of Accounting--at 9am. I had already done my workout and showered that morning, and my hair was still damp as I walked across campus to Detalente Hall where most of the business classes were held. I wasn't really looking forward to this class because our teacher, Professor Avery, had already emailed all of us the list of this semester's assignments and there were one or two due every week. I scanned the room upon entering and took an aisle seat toward the back near my buddy Tucker from the previous year. We exchanged greetings and talked about our summers a bit before the door shut near the front of the room.

Whatever I expected Professor Avery to look like, this wasn't it. He seemed younger than I expected, perhaps in his early-to-mid 30s, and he was an absolute beast of a man. He was wearing a tight-fitting blue polo t-shirt that stretched around his chest and strained around his enormous biceps. The shirt was tucked into a pair of khaki pants that showed off his tree trunk thighs and hugged his butt. Not that I was looking like that, but it was hard to miss. If it wasn't for his face sporting some day-old stubble, the buzzcut on his head would suggest he was in the military.

"Damn," Tucker commented softly.

"No shit," I shot back quietly. "That guy's huge!"

I wasn't small, by any means. I stood at 6'1 and had big arms from rowing, but looking at this guy made me feel like a scrawny teenager. He was just jacked, and if I was being honest, it made me a little jealous. Looking around the room I could see pretty much everyone reacting the same way; the guys had that look of reluctant admiration and some of the girls were biting their bottom lip.

"Good morning, everyone," Professor Avery began, setting his bag down at his desk and flipping open his laptop. "My name is Dawson Avery. I'm the head of the department of accountancy here. Normally I teach the senior-level courses, but Professor Jackson had to take some personal time this semester so I'll be filling in. Let's start today by going over the syllabus."

Professor Avery began walking along the aisle, handing stacks of syllabuses to the person nearest him for them to pass down the row. For some reason, I couldn't stop watching him. It was hard to tell when he was standing behind the desk, but out in the open I could tell he had to be at least 6'4 or 6'5. Every time he flexed and extended his arm, I became mesmerized by the sheer size of the muscles that moved. As he got closer to my row, I could see that one of the buttons on his polo was undone, showing the faintest hint of chest hair. I also happened to notice the bulge in the front of his khakis. It was hard not to, I was basically at eye level with it. And damn, I'll just say it wasn't just his arms and legs that were thick.

When he approached me, I hurriedly looked down at my desk and I could feel my face getting warm. What the fuck was going on? This guy was huge, sure, but why was he making me nervous? And why did I have the urge to hide, yet also kinda want him to notice me? I chalked it up to being both impressed by and jealous of his physique. I mean, I trained hard and worked out every day, why didn't I look like that?

Out of my periphery I could see his left arm hold out a stack of syllabi to me. I muttered "thanks" and took them. Briefly I looked up and we made eye contact. His gaze seemed intense, like he was trying to figure something out about me, which was odd since we had never met or spoke. He gave me one quick nod and moved on.

In the twenty or so minutes that followed, Professor Avery stood at the front of the room and went through the details of the syllabus, occasionally pausing to ask if their were any questions. More hands shot up than I had ever seen, mostly from girls, and I had a feeling it was less about the class and more about them wanting him to talk to them. One girl even brazenly asked if "after hours" tutoring would be available, to which he promptly responded that she could see him during his assigned office hours. Ouch.

I'll admit, I barely heard a word he said. I was captivated by him, by the confidence with which he moved, the self-assurance in the way he spoke. This was a man that earned what he had and knew it, and I found it strangely... enticing? The feeling was very foreign to me, and I couldn't quite place where it was coming from.

The rest of the day passed without incident, except my mind kept wandering back to Professor Avery. I kept thinking about him. His biceps, his pecs, his jawline... another guy had never occupied my mind this much before and it was freaking me out a little. More than once, I found myself wondering what he looked like shirtless. Maybe glistening in sweat from a workout...

The next morning, Tucker texted me to ask if I wanted to join him at the rec center for a workout before classes. I agreed since I didn't have any classes today until noon. We met outside the entrance and walked into the locker room together, debating what we thought this semester was going to be like based on our first day of classes. We were both already wearing our workout clothes so we just stuffed our bags in lockers and left to hit the free weights. It was 6am at this point, so the gym was mostly empty except for one guy at the bench press--Professor Avery.

I froze.

He was wearing a cut-off t-shirt and short black shorts. I could tell from where I was across the room that the front of his t-shirt was damp with sweat. He puffed out a breath as finished his set and sat up, catching me out of the corner of his eye. Staring.

He gave me a one quick head nod in greeting, jolting me from my reverie. I did the same back to him, quickly averting my gaze and heading toward the dumbbells, suddenly forgetting what workout I was even going to start with. Tucker was already doing shoulder presses, and I could see from his reflection that he was casting a slightly suspicious look at me. I ignored it and picked up some weights, suddenly inspired to start with bicep curls.

"Weren't you guys in my accounting class yesterday?" a voice behind us asked. My heart skipped a beat at the sound. Tucker set down his weights and stood.

"Yes, hi. I'm Tucker, and this here is Jordan," he said, shaking Professor Avery's hand and pointing at me. Awkwardly, I set down my weights and stood to face the professor as well, holding out my hand in a way that was too intentionally casual.

"Jordan Johnson, sir, nice to meet you," I said politely.

Up close, it was clear as day that he had a gym pump. If it was possible, his muscles looked even larger today than they did yesterday. A bead of sweat ran down his face and traveled along his jaw. I had the bizarre impulse to wipe it off for him before he used the towel slung over his massive shoulder and wiped it away himself.

"Likewise," he responded. "I didn't think college kids got up before noon unless they had classes." I could tell he was making a joke, though his facial expression didn't really change. Unfortunately, I chose that moment to forget how to speak. Tucker glanced between us before awkwardly clearing his throat.

"Uh, yeah, Jordan's on the rowing team here so he's always working out early. I'm trying to take a page out of his book," Tucker said.

"Rowing, huh? Yeah, I can see that," Professor Avery replied, obviously giving me a once-over. Did he just check me out?

"Oh, yeah. I'm here on partial scholarship to be on the rowing team," I added.

"That's great, congratulations. I have to get cleaned up for my 8 o'clock class. It was nice to meet both of you," Avery said to both of us.

"Nice to meet you," Tucker and I both called to him as he walked away.

A minute or two of silence went by after his departure. All I could think about was Professor Avery in the locker room. Undressing... showering. I didn't know what was coming over me. I have never had thoughts like this about another man before. It was clearly more than just admiring his body from a fitness standpoint, though I wasn't ready to admit that to myself just yet.

Impulsively, I stood and re-racked my weights. "I forgot my headphones in my bag, I'll be right back," I informed Tucker. He gave me a quick nod of acknowledgement, his face red from the set of tricep curls he was in the middle of.

I almost sprinted back down to the locker room, worried I might be too late. I abandoned any logical thought and only followed this strange desire to catch a glimpse of Professor Avery's body. And I wasn't disappointed.

Just as I turned the corner into the locker room, I heard one of the showers turn off and the rustle of a shower curtain being pulled back. I quietly opened my locker and pretended to be searching for something while focusing on my periphery. After a few seconds, I heard wet footsteps approaching.

Professor Avery rounded the corner to my bank of lockers. He paused when he saw me and I looked at him briefly, noting a puzzled expression on his face. Feigning innocence, I shrugged and said "Forgot my headphones."

He nodded and walked to his locker. Luck was on my side today as it was almost directly across from mine, giving me an opportunity to sneak glances while his back was turned. He had a towel wrapped around his tapered waist. I watched the muscles in his back bunch as he rummaged through his stuff, throwing his clothes on the bench. My breathing became more erratic with each item he tossed down.

My breathing stopped altogether when he suddenly dropped the towel.

Suddenly his intensely muscular, globular ass was all I could see. It was surprisingly smooth given his hairy chest and abdomen. I felt a twitch in my shorts as I watched him dry himself off... no, more than a twitch. I was quickly developing a raging boner.

Fuck.

But I couldn't stop looking. His body was perfect. He had muscles everywhere, and his ass was so round I felt like it could double as a shelf. But just when I thought I couldn't be any more aroused, he turned slightly to pick up his black boxer-briefs and I saw it. For just a second.

I saw his dick.

Oh. My. God.

Completely soft, it was as thick as my wrist, and it hung halfway down his thigh. He was circumcised, and the head looked even thicker than the shaft. The sheer size of it made me gulp nervously, and I felt my boner straining almost painfully in my shorts. Mercifully, he slid his underwear up and removed both his dick and his ass from view. He began facing the bench to dig through his pile of clothes, forcing me to turn toward my locker and continue my faux search for headphones that I'm pretty sure I didn't even bring.

Another minute or two went by and I could feel that I was beginning to look suspicious, so I made a show of shoving everything back in my locker in mock frustration before shutting it and turning to leave. Just as I rounded the corner back into the hallway, Professor Avery's deep voice called out a single sentence that made my entire face warm in embarrassment.

"I hope you enjoyed."