Page 1 of Full Service

Chapter One

Silas

I’ve seen that ass before. I know I have. The way it bunches and flexes in those tight jeans. The round globes of each cheek. The way they bounce and move. I can tell even through the fabric of his pants. That’s how obsessed I am.

Fuck. Me. I know that ass.

I tap my pen against my lips as the breeze flutters the quizzes I’m grading under my hand. I squint my eyes behind my slightly outdated sunglasses as I lean forward and examine it once more. Round, pert, completely biteable.

A perfect peach.

Unfortunately, said peach looks like it belongs to a student here on Franklin U’s campus. Which makes this completely inappropriate.

I behaved abominably at a friend’s bachelor party. Like a dog in heat. I don’t even know why Chris insisted on going to a strip club in the first place. Probably because Gregory was with him and was the sole entertainer for his fiancé. I know for a fact Gregory wouldn’t let Chris within a mile of another half-naked man. His jealousy knows no bounds.

But as for me, I have no excuse for the way I behaved, even though I’m a true bachelor with years of lazy, can’t-be-bothered celibacy under my belt. I got a lap dance from a young stripper who had moved like he was fucking his ass onto my dick.

It was the hottest experience of my life and one that I’m mostly ashamed of.

Never in my life have I come like that, not even as a teenager. It only took a few rolls of his hips and rubs from that butt on my weeping dick and I was done for. An abomination, a complete scoundrel. Jerking and grunting as I unloaded into my khaki dress pants.

That’s me.

A thirty-five-year-old tenured professor coming to the mere thought of a student’s ass sitting on me.

Well, to be fair, at the time, I didn’t know he was a student. I just thought he was a hot guy working at a dodgy club in town.

I never expected this to happen—to see him on Franklin U’s campus.

But then again, this is how my life goes. The most ridiculous things happen to me at the most unexpected times.

Like that one time I accidentally entered a hot dog eating contest—and won.

And no, it wasn’t the sexy kind of hot dog. It was the kind you put in a bun.

I swallowed those fuckers down like the gay man I am.

I deep-throated those dogs.

Suddenly, the ass I’m staring at turns, and I get a glimpse of the man’s face in the daylight. My throat bobs as I take him in. He positively shines. His dark blond hair twinkles in the rays of the sun warming the campus and the shirt he’s wearing is glued to his large biceps. He was radiant in the dim, smoky lights of the strip club, practically nude, but here, in the light of day, he’s even better looking.

No wonder I came like an animal.

No wonder I spent all last week sitting across the street from that strip club, beating myself up for lurking and yet desperate to go back inside to ask for a repeat.

He’s addicting.

“Hey there, Silas. Busy?” someone asks. I jerk slightly, surprised by the interruption and miffed that my ogling has been interrupted. But I can’t show anyone this obsession. No, I stuff it down and force a smile on my face. Dr. Brown, the biology department chair and my fellow colleague, looms over me, his graying hair perfectly coifed, his suit and tie immaculate. He’s a distinguished professor here on campus, a fan favorite, and I guarantee you he is most certainly not coming in his pants from a stripper. Never in his lifetime.

“No, not at all. I was just grading a pop quiz for my Gen Ed Biology class.”

“The first week of classes?” he asks with a slightly evil grin.

I snort and bob my head. “You know I like to keep them on their toes.”

The truth of the matter is, this isn’t some torture technique. It helps me gauge where my students are and where my focus needs to be. It’s a way to streamline the learning process for both me and them.

Dr. Brown eyes the stack of papers under my hands and raises an eyebrow. “You know you have a teaching assistant for that, right?”

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