Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Any similarities to the original characters or themes from the books or media franchise are used here for entertainment purposes only. All original elements to this story are mine. Please don't claim it for your own. Stealing ain't cool, m'kay?

I wrote and posted this story over a year ago, but took it down when FFn started pulling fics. I decided to put it back up. You don't have to review it, I just want it back in the public domain here for as long as it can be ;)

Chapter 1. Mike Newton

Ugh! When will this day end? I thought, my head falling back with boredom as I sat in the far back of Professor Swan's classroom while she droned on and fucking on about some bullshit I would never need. Why did I sign up for this class again? Oh, yeah; I remember now. Apparently, I'd thought that college English Lit would be as easy as Mr. Berty's senior English class. Fuck, was I wrong.

I'd thought about dropping the class altogether, but Professor Swan was fuck-hot and always wore some kind of skirt that promised to hug every one of her curves. Her wardrobe choices often had my dick harder than steel as I imagined what it would be like to screw her against the whiteboard or take her from behind as she bent over her desk screaming my name...

I was startled out of my thoughts when I heard the dry erase marker she was using fell to the floor and she bent down to retrieve it. Shifting uncomfortably in my seat, I sat up to get a better look at her ass as she fumbled for the marker. I'm pretty sure my zipper was going to burst open...or at least that's how it felt. I think that might have been the hardest I'd ever been.

"What did you say, baby?" Jessica, my girlfriend, cooed beside me.

I hadn't said anything, but I was pretty sure I hadn't said anything, but I must've groaned—or…something—for her to have heard me.

"Oh, um..." I cleared my throat and shifted in my seat, moving my hand into my lap to try to (hopefully) discreetly adjust my straining erection before she could notice it. "No, I think I must've been nodding off again." It wasn't a total lie; up until Professor Swan dropped her marker that had been pretty fucking close to being a reality.

"All right class, that's all for today. So, to clarify: your current assignment is to write a report on the procrastination of revenge in Shakespeare's Hamlet. It's due next Friday, and as always, I will not accept anything tardy. You're all dismissed," Professor Swan said over the low chatter before everyone stood up and exited the room.

Jessica laced her fingers with mine as we walked down the steps side-by-side. We had just made it to the door when Professor Swan spoke loudly.

"Mr. Newton, spare a moment?" Even though there was an inflection to her words, it wasn't a question. She was telling me I would.

"Uh, yeah," I stammered as I met her gaze nervously. Turning back to Jess, I gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. "I'll catch up in a minute, babe." Jess nodded and glanced warily at Professor Swan before exiting the room.

"Close the door, please," she instructed, stacking her lesson plans and books.

Swallowing thickly, I clutched my books in one hand while closing the door with the other and then turning to her. She was immensely terrifying. I mean, she was fuck-hot but so very intimidating at the same time. She carried herself with a confidence that only comes with power, and I had a feeling she knew just how much power she held over the entire male population of Seattle U—and quite possibly the females as well.

With a sly smirk, she looked at me over the top of her dark-framed glasses, her long wispy bangs falling to curtain them slightly. "There's nothing to be afraid of, Mr. Newton."

The way my name rolled off her tongue caused my dick to harden even more…as if that were even possible. I suddenly began imagining us in various sexual positions around the room and wondered if there would be an echo as she cried out my name.

"Mr. Newton, have you heard a word I've said?" she demanded.

I shook my head and moved my books from my hip to front-and-centre in an effort to conceal the raging boner I still harboured. "I'm sorry," I said quickly. "What did you say?" I couldn't even fake my way through the conversation because I hadn't heard a fucking thing after she said my name.

"Your last test score was abysmal. I'm afraid if you don't bring up your marks I will be forced to give you a failing grade." She perched herself on the edge of her desk before me and crossed her arms, pushing her tits up and in. She cocked an eyebrow and bit her lower lip, her eyes roaming over my face almost…hungrily?

Whoa, back off Newton. As if that would ever happen.

With a sharp head shake and a mental kick in the ass, I forced my attention back on her…until my eyes roamed back down to her breasts all pushed together and heaving with every breath she took. Of course, this caused my cock to twitch mercilessly. My brain finally registered her words, and I mentally called off my cock from attacking. "Well," I started with a thick swallow of saliva. "What can I do for extra credit?"

The professor's eyes suddenly left mine as she looked past me and frowned. Turning around, I saw The Dean's face through the tiny window in the door, and he did not look pleased. I felt her slender hand on my forearm before I looked back at her again to see her smiling warmly.

"Come back at the end of the day, and we'll discuss it," she instructed softly as she moved past me to open the door. "Dean Cullen. What a pleasant surprise. What brings you down here?"

The Dean entered the room and offered a smile that seemed neither friendly nor warm to me. I'm sure he didn't mean for it to come across that way, but he just had a very intimidating presence. He retrained his gaze on the professor and spoke. "Miss Swan, I need to have a word with you. Alone." His tone indicated to me that he was upset with Professor Swan. I stood there completely shocked until his voice jolted me out of my stupor. "Mr. Newton. You'd better hurry along before you're late for your next class."

"Right," I said quietly, quickly making my way for the door.

"And don't forget, Mr. Newton," Professor Swan said sweetly before I crossed the threshold. "Come back at the end of the day and we'll discuss what you can do to increase your grades."

With a quick nod and a wave, I darted down the hall for my next class. As I sat in my Pop Culture class, again with Jessica by my side, I couldn't get that look Professor Swan had given me as she perched herself on the edge of her desk. There was no way she had meant anything suggestive by it. I was her student… She was my teacher. Plus, I had a girlfriend whom I…well, really liked.

My last two classes of the day seemed to go by far too quickly. I knew that I'd probably retained very little of what was taught because I'd been too damn busy trying to decipher Professor Swan's look—even though it was probably nothing. By the time I arrived outside her lecture room, I had come no closer to figuring that out.

Upon entering I saw her standing on the tips of her toes as she tried to clean every square inch of her whiteboard. Her body was long and lean as she stretched, and I let out a gust of air as my eyes roamed over the swell of her chest and the curve of her ass while she moved. Her black skirt hugged her from where it sat on her waist to where it ended at her knees, and her white blouse's top three buttons were undone, showing off just the smallest sliver of her ample cleavage. I found myself wondering if they were real or fake, and—oddly—whether or not a university professor could even afford a boob job.

"Mr. Newton, you made it. Good," she said softly, turning away from the board. "Please, come in and close the door."

Blinking a few times, I came out of my haze—something I noticed had been happening far too often today—before entering the room and closing the door. Professor Swan had moved to her desk where she pulled out a few pieces of paper and held them out for me. Upon taking them, I noticed it was the last test I had written with a big "D-minus" in red pen written at the top.

"What happened here, Mr. Newton?"

I shrugged as I looked over my answers, and lack thereof. "I don't know. I guess I wasn't expecting this class to be as difficult as it is."

I instantly regretted my words when I met Professor Swan's eyes. "You think I make it too hard for you?"

Her words took me by surprise, and I nearly sputtered and choked on my own saliva. Though, I was certain she didn't realize her words held a double meaning in the worst way, because she continued to glower in obvious irritation. "What? No…no, not at all," I stammered. "It's just, I thought—"

"Oh, I see. You thought this would be like high school English," she said snidely, pushing herself forward until she stood only a few inches from me, and I could feel the heat radiating off her entire body.

"I promise to try harder," I said, my voice cracking as I struggled to keep my hands to myself. The temptation to reach out and just fucking touch her was powerful, and before I could weigh the pros and cons of such an invasion of her privacy, my left hand had done just that.

I'm groping her fucking tit. Holy shit. What do I do now? Do I pull away? Squeeze? Fuck! What am I doing?!

I finally raised my eyes from my hand on her glorious breast and met her stare. She arched her right brow at me, and the smirk she shot me was not one that said, "Yes, please keep touching me," so I withdrew my hand and wiped my sweaty palm along the thigh of my jeans.

"I'm so sorry, Professor. I…I—"

She laughed. She fucking laughed at me. Never had a woman laughed at me before…well not for something like this. In high school I had been the class clown, so it was expected, even planned that way.

"I really am," I reiterated, hoping she wouldn't charge me with some kind of assault. "I don't know what I was thinking, I just—"

Suddenly her fingertips were on my lips, silencing me as she moved closer. Her eyes moved down my body in an almost hungry manner and it caused my dick to quiver in anticipation of…well, I wasn't quite sure what.

"Mmmm, you know Michael," she began in a voice that closely resembled a purr as she looked up at me over the top of those glasses again. "May I call you Michael?" I nodded slowly, pressing my books into my groin in an effort to tame the beast that was struggling to burst out. "I was thinking…about your grades?"

"Uh huh," I responded shakily. That was the first time she had spoken my first name, and I suddenly lost all conscious thought. I had always been "Mr. Newton." In fact, even in my fantasies, that's what she would scream as we had sex. "Mr. Newton!" she would cry over and over again, her words punctuated by my thrusts…

But now... Now I could hear her crying out my given name. Possibly whispering—no, scratch that. Professor Swan wasn't a whisperer. No, she was a screamer; I was certain of it.

"And what you could do to raise them." I swallowed thickly as her eyes drifted down between us, and I knew I was screwed…not literally—at least, I didn't think so. When she didn't meet my stare again, I took the opportunity to look up at the vaulted ceilings and whisper a quick prayer to God that I wouldn't blow my load in my pants.

Professor Swan's fingers then started to delicately trace the hand I was using to clutch my books before wrapping them around my wrist and prying my books from my crotch. "Mmm," she hummed sexily, her hand moving back between us, the back of her knuckles grazing the hardness that was painfully obvious.

I literally gulped and jumped at the contact.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" she asked sweetly, tucking her long bangs behind her ear.

"N…not in a bad way," I admitted in a squeaky voice.

"That's good," she whispered as she moved her right hand up and down my left arm. The sensation alone was enough to push me over the edge.

My eyes closed and I dropped the books so I could clench my hands at my sides. "Ihaveagirlfriend!" I cried, my words amalgamating into one as I held onto any shred of self-control I had left.

"I know," Professor Swan responded. "I saw her. However, I also see the way you look at me every. Damn. Day. Isn't this what you want? What you fantasize about?"

I mumbled something that made no sense, but paired with an emphatic head-nod—and my massive hard-on—it was pretty obvious what I wanted. "What do you want?" I managed to ask in a whisper.

"So many possibilities," she told me, eyeing me like I was something to eat. Her right hand moved up and her finger began to lightly trace a line down my chest until it reached the buckle of my belt.

Jessica. Suddenly Jessica's face appeared in my mind and I took a few steps back. "No. Professor Swan, I'm sorry but I can't do this. It would be wrong."

"Morality is over-rated. Don't you ever just want to be bad?" she asked, moving her hand to the front of her blouse as she began to unbutton the rest of it. The lacy white bra she wore beneath was the thing wet dreams were made of.

I swallowed what little saliva was left in my mouth and watched her hands as they moved from the pale flesh on her chest to my belt. With no further refusal from me, she undid the buckle and then the button before our eyes locked once more.

"What the hell is going on in here?" a third voice echoed through the large room, and in an instant I knew I was fucked.

Though again, not literally.