Arcanum Hominem (#1)

Chapter 1

Journal Entry #1

I was told that writing in a journal is therapeutic and can actually help writers, so here I am, writing in a journal. Today was more boring than yesterday. At least I got some secondhand action from hearing my roommate get railed by week three boyfriend, but today, not even a peep. This may be too explicit for a journal, depending on who's reading this. If it happens to fall into the wrong hands. Hi whoever is reading this, I would love my journal back if that's okay with you. My information is in the front. 

Anyway, like I was saying, today was so boring. College was supposed to be enjoyable, amazing, the best time of our lives, but now that I'm a senior, I don't care for those trivial things anymore. The only interest I have now are mystery novels and novels filled with smut. Yes I said it, smut. How else was I supposed to satisfy myself without a partner? Not that I couldn't get one, but these men didn't satisfy my needs the way I wanted them to. Hell, needed them to. They all thought it was about pleasuring me, making me reach the big O. But I didn't want just that. I wanted a guy that could make me reach the big O with just his words. Serenade me with words filled with passion, throw some facts at me, give me a peek inside that brain of his. That's what turned me on the most. Of course, being highly attractive was a nice addition, but nothing beats the mind. Oh, the mind. I'm just salivating thinking about a guy talking my ear off about something he's passionate about. The math nerds really did it for me, I had to cross my legs every time they solved a problem. 

No one really knows about my...kink I guess people would call it. No one has been able to satisfy me in that area before and I'm craving it. Literally craving it. I feel like I'm going to explode if I don't scratch this itch of mine. More importantly, find someone to scratch this itch of mine. I have a target, but he doesn't give me the time of day. I watch him everyday in class. When he's teaching on Tuesdays and Thursdays and when I'm student teaching for him every Monday and Wednesday. I stare him dead in his piercing, emerald green eyes and watch his lips move as the words flow from his mouth. Talks about Ancient Greece, the history, the people, and something else I forget because I'm usually more focused on him than anything else. His bee stung, pink full lips are lucky they get to feel his tongue gliding over them, oh how I wish that was me. His muscular tan body was lucky to get to feel the probably coarse, rough, hands run over them. He was literally a god. An insanely intelligent god that I knew could curb my craving. If only he would pay attention to me.

Granted, I don't really do anything to get on his radar. I'm a perfect student. I do my job and leave. But, that was before I realized he was the perfect candidate. Now, I've started speaking out more in class, engaging with the students during lectures, and asking him about his day, though his answers are usually simple. Small things, small changes, but he still hasn't hinted at anything. Maybe he was a saint. I didn't want a saint though. I just realized I didn't tell you why today was boring. Well, today was a new day to try and get him to notice me, but he didn't. Want to know why? Because he wasn't even in class. I wanted to rip my hair out. I had a perfect plan. I've studied the ways of the whores of the college and decided to show a little more cleavage, put my curly brown hair in a high ponytail to show off my long neck, and heels to show of my beautifully toned legs, curtesy of my track days. But he wasn't here. Some adjunct filled in for him, letting us know that he had an emergency pop up and that he was truly sorry, but wanted us to be able to have class still.

Have class? I used to go to class for the history, but now I go for him. And this outfit and day was wasted on an old, washed up adjunct who didn't even know what he was talking about. I wouldn't even be able to teach tomorrow because apparently he wasn't going to be back by then. What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to get my hours in? I couldn't miss a day like that, there was no other way to really catch up on my student hours if it wasn't officially school work. Maybe I could email him and ask if there was a way I could make up those hours. Hmmm...I'm getting some ideas from that. Stories about college students and their professors are coming to my mind and I'm honestly getting real turned on. I'm imagining me emailing him and him telling me that he won't be at the school, but I could pop on by his house and bring my books there. I could teach him some things, pretending he was one of the students.