Her effect

Dimitri's POV

"Love, betrayal, and the loss of freedom of will..." I write on the whiteboard as I narrate from my mind for the studebts. "Shakespear in this poem lays particular emphasis on these three key themes"

My students, hurry to scribble down the short sentence I make. I watch them as they write, the sound of the pens on paper causing music to my ears. They know I don't play with my lecture and passing my class is on the top list of their problems.

The class erupts into a lively debate, with students sharing their perspectives. I listen, guiding the discussion.

"Can you elaborate on the love aspect, Professor Rossi?" Elsa, a black american girl in my class asks, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Certainly can, Miss Elsa," I reply, pleased she's engaging. "Shakespeare explores the destructive nature of love, how it can consume and destroy individuals."

"But isn't love supposed to be redemptive?" asks Jake, a student in the back.

"Exactly," I respond. "That's the paradox. Shakespeare shows how love can be both redemptive and destructive, often simultaneously."

"I see what you mean," Elsa says. "Like in Romeo and Juliet, their love ultimately leads to their downfall."

"Precisely," I nod. "Their love becomes an all-consuming force, blinding them to reason and consequence."

"Does that mean Shakespeare is cynical about love?" asks Emily, another student.

"Not necessarily," I reply. "He's highlighting the complexities of human emotions. Love can be beautiful, but also dangerous if unchecked."

I turn, my gaze landing on the main subject of my thoughts – Arabella. She is sitting on the second desk of the middle row of the classroom, her stare fixed on a window through which she views the football field outside. The fact that she isn't paying attention to what I have to say even though she is the brightest student in my class is concerning.

I wonder if her nipples are the same colour as the top she id wearing. Today, she is dressed in a little white skirt with black crosses at the flare paired with a pink top that sticks to her shape, making attention flicker to her perfect tits.

Somehow, thankfully I had enough patience just to keep my eyes on her face while talking to her.

"Miss. Lucia?" I call.

She flinches at the sound of her name. She probably didnt know she had zoned out until the call was made. She looks at me while the other students look at her. Her lips tremble, making my eyes drift fora second to them.

"Yes, sir?" she says shakingly, and blood rushes to my cock almost immediately. I know I said I hated her calling me sir but its only because of the impact she has on me. I look back at the window trying to distract myself from saying crude things to her and definitely in front of my entire class.

I would do probably anything to be in another world with her right now. Somewhere where she isn't forbidden to me.

"Are you okay?" I inquire. "You have been looking across the window lately. I feel you aren't paying any attention in my class today."

I feel bad for asking that question considering the fact that I do know the reason behind her lack of focus. But my role as her professor doesn't allow for her personal life to get between her studies. If she isn't focusing, it is my duty to make her focus.

She looks down at her notebook which is still shut for some reason, fumbling to open it while she licks her pen with her other hand, pressing the tip on a new page. I can read her face as she scrounges her brain for what to write.

"I am sorry, Mr. Rossi,' she mutters politely, trying to hide behind a strand of her hair that fell to her face. "Won't happen again."

"This is important. Focus, please, or I'd be forced to take other measures," I voice out a little sternly, jotting down more notes on the whiteboard. "What do you think of our topic duscussion."

She looks at her colleague who pointed to the board. She looked at the board and spoke.

"I think Shakespeare's saying that love can make us lose our freedom of will," Arabella suggests.

"Go on," I encourage.

"Well, when we're in love, we often surrender our autonomy, making choices based on emotions rather than reason," she explains.

The class nods in agreement, and I smile.

"Exactly, Miss Lucia. You're hitting at the heart of Shakespeare's theme."

I jot down the last of the notes as I look over it from the textbook and face the students.

"Professor Rossi, can I ask something?" Jake asks.

"Of course," I respond.

"Does Shakespeare's view on love apply to modern society?"

"Absolutely," I reply. "Human nature hasn't changed. We still struggle with the same emotions, the same conflicts."

"I disagree," Emily says. "Modern love is different. We have more freedom, more choices."

"I think that's true," Arabella adds, "but the core emotions remain the same. We still experience the same desires, the same fears."

"Alright class, I think that's enough debate discussion on Shakespeare for today. I am giving you a short project work," I instruct. "Pair yourselves in twos and read a particular poem, come up with something brilliant individually and note them down after reading the poem. Submit them to me by tomorrow online. You have my email. You are dismissed for the day."

The students groan together, except for Arabella who has once again gone blank. I take a seat on my desk, leaning back on my hands as I watch her shoulders lazily drop.

She is such a fascinating subject for me. The dynamic between us is one that torments me every night. It might have to do with the fact that I am familiar with the moans and laughter she made when she was with my brother. They were wild. More than once have I been a victim of their intense fucking.

Blake's bedroom is right over mine and he usually prefers the quiet ones. Anya is far from that. She is loud during sex, something I insanely love. She is the kind of woman who was born to fuel a man's ego in bed. I had to get out of my bedroom whenever that happened and only regretted it more because a while later she would come strutting out

of Blake's room in a shirt that barely covered her hips, with her socks on, giving me a full view of her gorgeous legs.

On one encounter after her sexcapade with my brother, I was by myself at the kitchen counter when she came out in her usual after sex dressing. It was as though she was trying to seduce me bu I knew better, she only looked at me as a professor and Blake's elder brother.

I watched as she took out two bowls of vanilla ice cream from the freezer, passing one to me while dipping a spoon in her bowl, and starting to lick from the back of it. Her pink tongue ran over the cream and I moaned internally, imagining the cream was my cum which she sucked so greedily before looking at me and muttering a shy "Sorry. I was really hungry."

She is an unreal beauty and her innocence was one of the things I really loved about her.

Why the fuck did Blake have to fuck things up with her again? With her around, my home had a feminine touch that I craved. If I had her, she wouldn't have to cry. At least not in ways she wouldn't want.

Arabella is the reason I had to lose my inhibitions and resign myself to Private Affairs. That club is the only good thing going on in my single life right now. It is a stage for all my depraved fantasies.

The class gets over and the students are in a hurry to leave. I remain seated, watching Arabella as she struggles to put her books in her bag and grabbed her black jacket. She stands up, noticing me still there.

I wanted to ask her to stay after class to know how she was faring and also apologize for calling her out in the middle of the class but I dont. Instead I look straight at her.

She smiles unwillingly at me and I keep staring as she leaves too. She has no idea about the efect she has on me, does she?