English Composition

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Note to reader: This story has a slow build so if you are looking for a quickie you may want to go read something else and come back to this later.


Milo was nineteen years old and just starting his second semester at the university. The first semester had gone pretty well, three A’s and two B’s, so by his standards the freshman was off to a good start. He’d been a very average, bored and unmotivated student in high school, but the college experience had so far been challenging and enlightening, maybe even intimidating, but had evoked from him an ability to study and focus on schoolwork that he’d never known before.

It was the first day of classes and this was Milo’s last class of the day. He was in Whitman Hall looking for room 222. This is where he would be taking English Composition…ENGL 101 in the course catalog…for the next three and a half months. This was a required course-every student, regardless of their curriculum had to pass it- and since writing was one of his strengths he hoped to earn an A.

He found the classroom and took a seat near the back. The room had five rows of six student desks and by the time class was supposed to begin all but four or five were taken. Right on time at three p.m. the instructor strode through the door and plopped her satchel on the teacher’s desk at the front of the room. Their teacher was an attractive woman of medium height. She had blond shoulder-length hair, layered and parted in the middle. Her body was slim and tapered and well-shaped from top to bottom. She wore a snug, short-sleeved black top that showed off her toned arms and firm breasts, and a cream skirt that did the same favor for her legs.

‘Alright!’, Milo thought, some eye candy. No matter how boring or tedious this class would turn out to be, at least he’d have something nice to look at.

The teacher introduced herself and gave them a little background. Her name was Teresa; she had a M.F.A. When she was in grad school she’d married and had a child and took time off. When her daughter was old enough to go to school she had re-enrolled at the university, acquired her masters degree and was now working on her doctorate. She taught two classes: this one, English Composition, and another intermediate writing course.

“I know you are all here because you have to be,” Teresa said. “It’s a course required of all students. Some of you may like to write, some of you may not, some of you may even despise it. But our goal this semester will be to make everyone in this class a better writer, and hopefully we will have some fun along the way.”

Teresa then passed out the syllabuses and reviewed the course requirements with the class. There would be six writing assignments, a final and a student/teacher conference about two-thirds of the way through the semester. Attendance would be taken and is mandatory and blah, blah, blah.

Milo was only half-listening because he was using his eyes more than his ears. He was staring at his teacher, and taking her in. He loved her pretty face, the soft cadence of her voice with its hint of a Southern drawl, and she had the look that he had always been attracted to: slim, blond hair, blue eyes. Milo was good-looking but was no Casanova by any means, in fact he was usually kind of shy, but he knew if she’d been a student he would find a way to get close.

This was his teacher but he found himself staring at her glossy lips as she spoke, and at her breasts sticking straight out, at her legs, at her butt when she’d pivot every now and then as she walked back and forth. And at the wedding ring on her left hand, he couldn’t ignore that.

As he was leaving the classroom that first day Milo was enthused about the course and its instructor, and it didn’t hurt when he caught Teresa’s eye and she gave him a little smile on his way out. He already knew he was going to ace the course and his attendance would be 100%.

The semester moved along quickly and the composition class was by far Milo’s favorite. He found the assignments very easy, and of course he was motivated to please his teacher. The papers were short, two or three double-spaced pages, and were very basic: a narrative essay, a descriptive essay, review a short story, a persuasive paper on a debate topic. He received A’s on every one and when the class would read and critique some of the papers…after grading each assignment Teresa would photocopy four or five anonymous student papers and pass them out…his work was usually one of the papers chosen. One time the class were discussing one of his papers and the students were saying, ‘I think she meant this, or she meant that’, and Teresa finally asked them why they thought a female had written it. Someone interpreted a passage that was especially sympathetic to women. Teresa then looked straight at Milo and asked what he had meant. Milo said nothing and just stared at the wall until she moved on.

It was obvious that Teresa appreciated Milo’s work, but he liked coming to class just to be around her. He was always Antep Escort Bayan anxious to see how she dressed. Sometimes she would wear a casual dress and he’d be checking out her legs for fifty minutes. On Fridays she wore jeans, wrapped tight around her sweet ass and crotch, and he tried not to stare or think about what it would be like to peel them off. About halfway through the semester she showed up to class with a new perm, her blond hair in a wild, frizzy mess. A sexy, irresistible wild frizzy mess. Milo would reach down below his desktop and touch himself sometimes; that was one of those times.

After a couple months it was time for the class members to have their one-on-one conferences with the teacher. Teresa had a sign-up sheet for the students to choose a time that suited their schedule. Milo picked a time at the very end of one of the days. He thought if he met her at the end of the day he might get a little more than the allotted time.

Milo roamed around the building where the English Department was located until he found Teresa’s office. It was on the second floor at the end of the long hallway. Her name was one of two on the door along with a note saying a meeting was in session and to please have a seat. He was a couple minutes early so he sat on a blue metal folding chair beside the door.

Soon the door opened and out came Ginger, one of the students who had thought his paper had been written by a girl. She said hello and walked toward the stairs. Teresa poked her head out of the door.

“Hello, Milo,” she said, “Come on in.”

He followed her into what was a tiny cubbyhole of an office, barely large enough for two desks and a couple chairs. He watched her as she walked around to the other side of the desk. She wore a pair of satiny black slacks and he could see a slight trace of her butt crack before she turned around and took her seat behind the desk. Her blond curls rested haphazardly on the shoulders of her red blouse. He noticed that she was wearing a thin gold chain around her neck and the top two buttons of her blouse were unhooked and he stole a look. He fantasized that they were unbuttoned for him. He could smell her slight lemony scent, it made him want to take a bite. He sat down across from her and waited with butterflies in his stomach. Teresa rummaged through her satchel and put Milo’s file on the desk and opened it.

“So Milo,” she said. “What do you think of the course so far?”

“I like it,” he said.

“You like it. Is that all? Would you care to expound on that statement?”

“I like your hair, too, since you kinked it up.” He gave her his innocent smile.

Teresa’s lips curled into a wide grin. “Thank you,” she said. “But I meant to expound on what you think about the course.”

“I know, sorry. The class is about what I expected it to be. It’s a basic writing course so I expected I would like it. I’ve always liked to read and write and even though I’m not that good of a student I’ve always done well in classes where I had to write papers.”

“You’re doing very well in my class, as you know. Why do you think you are not a good student?”

“Well, I should say that I never was a very good student through high school. I was just never that interested, I guess. But college is so diverse and has been much more challenging so far and I’m more motivated. Your class has definitely been a plus in that department.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Milo. Because you are a very talented writer and you should be motivated. I’ve taught this course for several years and I can tell you that it can be a difficult chore getting through all the papers I have to read. But it is a joy when I get to read one of yours. You definitely have a style of your own and a way with words.”

“Thank you,” Milo said. He was suddenly nervous and it was all he could think of to say.

For the next few minutes they went over his work and discussed each paper and Teresa told him what he could expect for the rest of the semester and the final.

“I noticed that you have not declared a major,” Teresa said as they were wrapping things up.

“No, I haven’t, I’ve been getting a lot the requirements out of the way, but I’ll need to decide soon.

I’m leaning toward English.”

“That’s good. There are many great courses once you get into the curriculum. And if you like reading and writing, you’ll get plenty of that! There are seminars and writing groups and we all help each other. Who knows, maybe you’ll be teaching this course someday!”

Milo was walking on air when he left the meeting. Teresa’s face and her pool-blue eyes, framed by her foxy blond frizz, were etched in his mind. Her subtle scent intoxicated him. He knew he would go to the administration building the next day and declare his major. He was smitten.

The next few times Milo saw Teresa in class he could sense a new level of awareness between them. She would give him little smiles here and there and their eye contact was more frequent and would sometimes linger. Then he went to class one Wednesday afternoon and Teresa was missing. There was a substitute teacher, an Einstein-looking dude with wild hair and a wrinkled white shirt and tie. He explained that Teresa would be out for a while and he would be filling in.

After class Milo approached the teacher and asked him if he knew how long Teresa would be out. The teacher told him he didn’t know but that she had had an appendicitis attack the day before and was in the University Hospital.

Milo went to a store and bought a generic get-well card, wrote a brief note and signed it. He drove to the hospital and parked his car far away in the visitor lot. He checked with the information desk and then found her room; her name was displayed on the wall. He tapped on the door and looked in. It was a double room but there was no bed in the space closest to the door. The bed by the window was occupied. He tentatively walked into the room.

The TV on the wall was showing cable news but the sound was muted. Teresa was propped up in the bed reading a book. He stood there for a moment before she realized he was there and looked up. A smile came to her face and she put down her book.

“Milo! What a surprise!” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by,” he said with a shy grin.

“Just happened to be in the neighborhood, huh? Do you make a habit of hanging around hospitals and dropping in on patients?” She gave him a wink.

“I’m kidding. I came to see you. The substitute teacher told me what happened. I hope you don’t mind my coming to see you.”

“No, not at all, Milo. I’m flattered that you came. It’s unexpected and unnecessary but very thoughtful.”

“I brought you a get-well card,” he said, and handed it to her.

She thanked him and opened it. The card was a basic Hallmark, but then she read aloud what Milo had written:

‘To a great Teacher. Get well soon and hurry back. This English major needs all the help he can get! Milo’.

“Oh, this is so sweet, Milo,” she said. “And I’m glad to hear you’ve decided to major in English. I think it’s the right place for you.”

“So do I,” he said. After a pause he asked how long she would be in the hospital.

“A couple more days anyway, they want to make sure there are no complications. But I won’t be coming back to teach right away, I’m afraid. Semester is almost over and with being out for a few days I need to concentrate on finishing my own studies. But I’ll help you any way I can.”

“Will you still be teaching?”

“Yes, next semester I’ll be back at it. I will teach another section of English Comp and one intermediate writing class.”

“I’ll have to sign up for your intermediate class,” he said.

“That would be good. It’s much more challenging but I think you’ll like it.”

They were interrupted when an attractive woman with short brown hair entered the room.

“How you feelin’ Darlin’?” she said.

“Hi Mel,” Teresa said. “Thanks for coming again. Mel, meet Milo; Milo, this is my older sister Melanie.” They said hello and shook hands.

“Well, I better be going,” Milo said. “Hope you feel a lot better soon and they let you out of here. Nice to meet you, Melanie.”

“Thank you so much for coming, Milo. It was very thoughtful of you,” Teresa said. After a quick goodbye Milo was gone.

“Who was that?” Melanie asked as soon as he was out the door.

“One of my students.” Teresa handed her the card he’d given her.

“My God, he’s an Adonis!” Melanie read the card. “Huh. And it looks like he’s hot for teacher.” She handed the card back. “You two got something going?”

“Of course not. He’s only nineteen.”

“Nineteen with a crush on his teacher.”

“He’s a very talented writer. And he just became an English Major.”

“Well, sometimes students get involved with their teachers, you know.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Uh huh.”

Milo finished out the semester and he got his A in English Comp. He stayed at his apartment near campus over the summer rather than going home to his parents’ because he’d gotten a summer job at a busy warehouse in a nearby industrial park. He worked the night shift, 11:00 pm to 7:00 am, because it paid more than days and he needed to save his money. His work week started at 11 p.m. Sunday night and ended at 7:00 Friday morning. It always tickled him when he’d be leaving work on Friday morning, looking for beer and ready for happy hour, and he’d pass other drivers swerving down the road, barely awake and sipping 7-Eleven coffee.

Over the summer he dabbled with several of his female co-workers, some fraternization, some partying, some sex, but Teresa was never far from his mind. He thought of her often and even went to campus and hung around the English Department a few times hoping to bump into her. It didn’t happen.

As summer neared its end he looked forward to going back to school. As a new English major he met with an adviser to help him map out his plan. He checked the course catalog and looked for the intermediate writing class first; he was going to schedule everything else around that. There were several sections and he found out that Teresa’s class would be held Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays at one p.m. and registered for it.

The first class was on a Friday and Milo took a seat in the back. There were about twenty students in the class. Teresa entered the room and placed her familiar satchel on the desk. She wrote her name on the board, introduced herself and started describing the course. Milo thought she looked like a model. Her long, lean body was dressed in black. Black jeans wrapped around her legs and butt, a thin black top accentuated her horizontal tits and work-out arms, and her charcoal sandals sported polished toenails. Her blond hair was still in a frizz but longer, several inches down her back and a gold chain hung from her neck and sparkled in front of her black shirt. And that damn ring on her left hand.

Teresa gave the class the lowdown on the course requirements and described the goals and assignments and Milo stared at her the whole time. As she spoke she made an effort to look around the room and make eye contact with all of the pupils, and several times when she glanced at Milo he was looking into her eyes and smiling at her. Milo detected subtle smiles from Teresa too a couple times before she looked away.

Milo wanted to talk to Teresa after the class just to say hello but she was immediately surrounded by three other students so he didn’t hang around. He headed to the bookstore to buy his texts.

The first assignment was an essay describing something that you had witnessed in person-an event or special occasion that had left a lasting impression on you. Teresa said to be vivid and descriptive and to convince the reader what it was like to be there and how it affected you personally.

The idea didn’t excite Milo all that much but it was simple enough that he could plow through. And he did. He wrote about an episode he’d watched when he was nine years old. He and his mother and sister were at the community swimming pool. He saw a kid of five or six gradually drift into the deep end. The little boy started flailing around, his arms and legs slapping up and down in the water, kicking, splashing, struggling to stay afloat. At first people paid no mind, figuring the child was goofing off, but suddenly when his cries were half-muted by pool water a teen-aged girl realized that he was drowning and dove in and brought the little boy to safety. Milo wrote about it in detail and it was graded a B. Teresa’s critique noted that it was ‘well-written but didn’t quite convey the profound effect it had had on you. Passion!’

The second assignment didn’t turn him on much either, at least not at first. It was to be a biographical essay; write a biography of a real person whom you admire. Milo kicked the idea around in his head for a day or so. He figured most students would pick a well-known figure from history or politics or sports or whatever and then dig up the information and paraphrase whatever they found on-line or in Encyclopedia Britannica. But he had a better idea. He would dig around and find out all he could about Teresa. And he would write about her. She wanted passion and she would get it.

Finding background on Teresa was easier than expected. Milo was amazed at how much he was able to find out if he looked in the right places. He started with the English Department website which had bios of all faculty members. Social media sites were a treasure trove of information, where he got the names of her friends and family and high school, which then opened more doors to more juicy stuff. He had the names of old boyfriends, teammates on the volleyball team and clubs to which she’d belonged. He found her birth records and knew her size and weight. She was now thirty-two years old. He learned about a hidden well-placed tattoo.

He searched through the university’s newspaper archives and found a few things she’d written, articles and letters to the editor. And one other sexy tidbit: In her sophomore year she’d won second runner-up in a wet t-shirt contest on campus. The girl who won was not nearly as attractive but she had big tits and had taken her top off and thrown it into the crowd, and then proceeded to get felt-up by eighty or ninety frat boys. Milo was glad to discover that Teresa evidently had a wild side.

Teresa’s husband was a few years older than she and was a professor at a small college about thirty miles away. His name was Henry and he used to be an instructor at the university, and Teresa had been one of his students. Milo put all of the pieces together. Teresa had had an affair with him and had become pregnant and later married him. That ring on her finger was from a teacher who had fucked his student.

Or students. Milo had a couple of friends who attended the college where Henry was now professor. He called them and asked about Good Old Henry. ‘Oh yes,’, they both agreed, ‘Rumors are Henry has had improper relationships with his students. And not always with girls, either’.

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