By now, you all know my fascination with older men. Dating/fucking around with guys my own age is just boring, I’m just not interested… they lack experience, and it’s very rare I find guys my own age sexy (excluding Entourage Fan). Agewise, I usually cap myself off messing around with guys under 30. Thirty is just a serious number, shit starts to get real, and it no longer is fun… but here’s my “exception” to that rule (wait, fuck… why do I even have rules?)
Last year when I was going to school in Philly, I had a particularly HOT professor for a seminar. He was teaching at my University under some Irish visa or work permit- whatever it was, who cares… he was foreign, intellectual, sexy, 30 something, and the man knew how to wear a pair of jeans. Mmmmm. The class only had 15 people, and besides my cock-blocking best guy friend Fratstar, I clearly participated the most and was his favorite. No joke, he would ask me to stay after class, or meet him for office hours and we’d talk about class, intellectual shit, or usually life in general. He went so far as to open up to me about his unsuccessful try at dating life in Philly, how he hated his ex girlfriends cat that she left behind with him over a year ago, and he even shared with me his iTunes workout playlist -Um picturing him working out… OUT of a blazer and nice jeans- SWOON. We bonded over our dislike of the Unnamed University and the dullness of the area and even Philly. I told him how I was transferring universities and moving to NYC next year, and he told me he had had the same idea, depending on if a teaching position somehwere in Manhattan was available.
Basically the beautiful man knew I wanted him. There was no way he didn’t… he’d subtly wink at me in class during discussion or joke around with me during seminar - the other bitches in class were jealous. So much sexual frustration and tension between us, I loved it. I thrive off of that shit. His classes got me through the week… the subtle flirting, the intellectual chats, his winking, his sexiness, his power above me. AH. I like to think this was a little more than just a crush on the teacher. Even my bestie, Fratstar knew something was up and even went so far as to say I was only getting an A in the class because I was sucking his cock. No you dumb bitch, I’m actually smart… just because youre not as intellectually arousing as me, doesn’t mean you can be a little bitter bitch Fratstar. (Fratstar began as my best gay friend when we met at school in Philly - even though in CA we only live 5 minutes away from eachother- we both bitched and moaned about the Unnamed University and transferred out together, except he went back to California to become a huge fratstar, and I stayed on the East Coast to become a….hot mess)
At the end of the semester with The Professor, I was incredibly sad I wouldn’t see his sexy 5o’clock shadowed face or get my panties moist over his hot Irish accent, twice a week anymore. I attempted to make a move after the last day of classes, except Fratstar wanted to be a HUGE douchebag, and waited in the room for me as I told The Professor thanks and bye. Fuck you Fratstar. Whatever.
I was back home in sunny California for the summer when I got an email from The Professor a few weeks after the end of the semester. Basically saying blah blah, you were great to have in the class, my favorite students as a professor, great job, blah blah… and here’s the good part. Basically he hinted at the fact that since I was no longer a Unnamed University student, we should keep in touch since I was such a pleasure to teach and converse with and he wanted me to let him know how NYC goes… since he might end up out here. I replied telling him how excited I was to move to NYC, and how I would definitely keep in touch.
Unfortunately, I got caught up in my summer and forgot about The Professor and responding to his emails. But last week, I had to email him to get a syllabus for the class I took with him - so I could get transfer credits for it. And I found out he doesnt work at Unnamed University anymore… and thus, his University email address doesn’t work. Fuck. Maybe he made the move out here? Maybe he got deported back to Ireland? Wahhh, I guess I’ll never know. And so goes the story about the Student and The Professor who never lived out their fantasy. It’s a shame.