The professor

I lightly knock on the heavy oak door in front of me. My heart beats faster. Without any windows, or peepholes into professor Cartwells office, there is no way for me to know If he's in or he's out. Oh god, I hope he's out. If he's out, I have a reasonable excuse for not seeing him when summoned. A reasonable excuse to not have to pretend each deep note of his voice, movement of his lips, or a flick of a finger does not send a wave of heat through my body. It would allow me to avoid having to ignore a growing pool of hot liquid in my underwear each time he meets my gaze. I hear footsteps approach the door from the other side. The lock clicks. "come in, Isabelle" I hear him say as my heart beats faster and my body grows rigid. I push the now unlocked door open and step inside. 

"lock it behind you if you please, Isabelle, I would prefer not to be interrupted," he says, now seated back at his desk and only glancing back up at me. My mind rushes with fantasies, wishing, hoping that he wants the same thing I do. I turn and lock the door. "sit" he says gesturing to the fancy seat on the other side of the desk from him. I shiver, trying to contain myself and sit. Shifting his work aside, Cartwell looks up. Not at me, but at the clock above my head on the wall. "Okay. So, as you know, each year I select a personal assistant to help with grading essays and standing in to teach junior classes." I clasp my hands around the wooden arms of my chair and raise my eyes to meet his golden brown ones. Oh god, I hope my panties manage to contain this sopping wet mess so that I don't leave a mark when I leave. He leans forward and licks his bottom lip slightly. I realise this is my cue. I nod to indicate I understand what he's talking about. He nods back as he continues talking, never breaking eye contact. "This year, you have shown dedication, hard work, and a willingness to go....above and beyond to achieve outstanding results." he nods once and opens the file which he had just pushed aside. "But. Oh yes, there is a but" he smiles and slightly shakes his head looking at me "Before I selected you for this highly strenuous and time-consuming role, I wanted to..... get to know you a little better." The fantasies resume their frantic flight around my head. I shake my head slightly, trying to get them out. "I would love the opportunity to be your PA, Professor Cartwell" I stammer, almost moaning picturing my wildest fantasies play out. Oh god, if this is what I'm like after 5 minutes alone in a room with him, I dread to think what I might do with more. I frown slightly. "So before we begin, I do believe that we should dispose of the formalities." he lifts his hand over the desk and reaches towards me. "My name, is Professor Darcy Cartwell, and obviously you have been told to call me Professor Cartwell, but from now on, I would prefer for you to think of me as Darcy" I reach my hand out to meet his, and shake it. "Well...Darcy, I'm Isabelle, but normally people just call me Izzie." He smiles, revealing a set of perfect white teeth. A perfect smile. A perfect jaw....A perfect chest... My eyes drift down until the desk prevents me from seeing any further. Oh god, I want him. My eyes snap up, and I catch him doing the same to me. I quickly let go of his hand, and rest my elbows on his desk, leaning slightly towards him "mmm..." I softly hear him say. "Sir?" his eyes snap back up to meet my own again. A fresh flood of hot liquid lust meets my underwear. He smiles slightly and tilts his head. "What did we just say, Izzie??". Oh. "Sorry" I smile and lean forward a little bit more "....Darcy?" I say, drawing his name out, letting him hear every letter, watching it escape my lips. I tuck my hair behind my ears and settle back into my seat. "yes?" He's smiling. He liked that. I take a deep breath and decide to just go ahead and ask. "Well, I was hoping you might be able to give a quick rundown of how you might like me to help out with your paperwork before I ... officially start as your PA?" "yes! of course!" he responds slowly as if he was expecting me to ask something else. Hoping I might ask something else. "Would I be able to sit with you on that side of the desk, so you might show me??" I ask timidly, hoping, wishing he says yes. All I want is to be closer. To see all of him.  "yes, Izzie, that would be great," he replies, his voice suddenly husky, as if it was a struggle to get the words out. I stand up and move my chair.