Crazy in Love - Lane Hart Page 0,13

the modern world, and I was mesmerized.

So the next day, I returned to the bench at the same time instead of going home. My classes and office hours were over, but I was curious to see if she would return. I assumed the day before had been a fluke. No young girl would spend hours every day simply…existing. But I was wrong. She sat there in the grass for more than two hours that day and the day after that. On Thursday I had to go home for a dinner party Trish had planned, because I knew she would be livid if I didn’t attend. But on Friday, I lied and told my wife I had papers to grade and needed to stay late. It had been raining on and off, so I spent the day in a gloomy mood as well, certain that I wouldn’t see the flowerchild until the next week.

Grabbing my umbrella, I nevertheless ventured out a few minutes after three p.m. into the downpour and…there she was. Her beautiful, flawless, natural face tilted up to the sky, eyes closed as the droplets poured over her, drenching her mahogany hair and russet colored dress, the same one she’s wearing today, until the fabric molded to her skin, highlighting her full breasts. Occasionally she would wipe the water from her face or run her hands through her hair, and it was the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I wanted her so much that it took all of my restraint not to approach her. The gold ring around my finger suddenly felt like it was squeezing the life out of me. There I was, unhappily married and imagining approaching a student for the purpose of climbing on top of her and fucking her in the middle of campus. Clearly, I thought I was losing my mind.

For the next week, I avoided her side of the courtyard and insisted on going to marriage counseling with my wife instead. I knew we had a serious problem if I was stalking a random student and thinking of her every second of the day, and especially every night, instead of the woman I was married to.

Things only went downhill after that, though. I stopped sleeping in the same bed as Trish just so I could have the privacy to jerk off to the girl whose name I didn’t even know. I didn’t want to know it, or I might try to take things further. So I kept my distance, even finding a bench farther away so she wouldn’t see me watching her every single afternoon once I could no longer resist going back to my stalker routine.

Weeks later, Trish told our therapist that we were sleeping in separate beds and that I refused to touch her, so he suggested we try to spice up our sex life by sharing a fantasy with each other. Hers was that she wanted me to spank her. Since she annoyed the fuck out of me pretty much all of the time, it was no chore for me to indulge her. Then, it was my turn. When I asked her to fulfill my fantasy of roleplaying, to wear a sexy schoolgirl outfit while I fucked her, just like the naughty thoughts I’d had in my head for so long about the unknown girl in the courtyard, Trish flipped out and accused me of cheating on her with one of my students. Shortly after that, I told her I wanted a divorce, certain that things were not going to improve. Trish didn’t trust me, and I stopped caring about her. Our marriage was doomed all because I fell in love with a girl whose name I didn’t even know.

But then, in January, the same girl from the courtyard walked into my classroom. I was practically shaking with excitement as I went through the roll call, knowing I was about to actually interact with her for the very first time. She would finally have a name. I should’ve tried to remove her from my class, but when I called her name, Reagan Harper, asking her to tell the class about herself like the students before her, she pushed her hair behind her ear and shyly said that she was finishing up her degree. It was her last semester on campus. Which meant I only had a few more months to see her before she disappeared, moving on with her life while I would keep teaching, sitting