Site icon Cara Thereon

Repeated Patterns

Day 18: 950 words. Prompt words are clandestine, fractal, photograph, and coat.

She placed her hand on the desktop and settled her chin in her palm. Watching him lecture, watching me become animated as he described the correlation between mathematic equations and the recurring patterns in mature. It was almost erotic to watch.

“Think about it,” he exploded, taking a moment to adjust his glasses. “Many things want to recur along natural lines. Think of a wind blown coastline compared to the manufactured code used to create the screensaver you love so much. Are they so different?”

He brought up the old projector with the laminated slides. A photograph of an eroding coastline in black and white, the waves in the shore that repeated in a similar nature until they became progressively smaller near the bottom.

It was hard to ignore his fervor and excitement. He communicated and taught in a way that drew out her curiosity. Considering she was only taking this class because she needed it in conjunction with her master courses, she was surprised her level of excitement coming to this class inspired.

She couldn’t explain his appeal as he was a true outlier in the type of man she was normally attracted to. He was too tall, nearly too thin, and trended toward a intellectual level she didn’t always get. The precise way he spoke, his mouth caressing every word in that deep voice of his, called to her though. She wanted to be under his tutelage.

The way he vibrated with excitement made her squeeze her thighs together. His zest would translate easily into a brief and fiery clandestine affair worth writing many stories about later.

He’d pull her into his office, push the stacks of papers littering his desk, and press her down on the aged wood. That would be a perfect opportunity to explain math to her in detail. She couldn’t help thinking about the way he’d apply such zeal to tonguing her clit. He’d make her come with Perfect. Recurring. Patterns.

“It’s beautiful. Repeating code and the way nature follows its own fractal geometry. Mathematics is beautiful and unique, it’s also predictive and predictable. Nature loves mathematics more than I do.”

She snorted. Nothing loved math more than he did, she was sure of that fact.

He glanced her way, his eyes zeroing in on hers even in the large lecture hall. She felt her cheeks blush hot and glanced away until he continued his talk. Just having his eyes on her made her jumpy.

For the rest of the class she kept her eyes firmly on the notes she was taking. Every time she’d look up to check that she was following the slides, he’d be looking her way with a decidedly quizzical look on his face.

“Excellent, enough of that for today. I’ll be discussing Dirac equation for the next series so be prepared to take a quiz at the beginning of class on Thursday.”

She stood to gather her things, stuffing her notebook in her bag. She slipped on her winter coat and started the trek down the steps to exit with the rest of the class. Passing him on the way out made her heart race more than she cared to admit.

The brief touch as she passed sent electricity up her spine. She allowed herself to be pulled out of the flow of traffic.

“Ms. Claiborne? A word after class has cleared, please.” She nodded and moved toward his desk to wait as he spoke to people leaving.

Her pulse pounded between her thighs, matching the thud in her chest. She drew in a steadying breath. It wasn’t like her to be so nervous with a man.

He leaned against his desk, arms folded, and that same quizzical look on his face. She resisted the urge to fidget. She was too old for that, and straightened up so she could face him head on.

“You needed to talk to me?”

She could’ve patted herself on the back for sounding like the strong woman she touted herself to be.

He unfolded himself, his lanky body moving with feline grace. When he circled the desk, he sat. He steepled his fingers over the glossy slides on the desk and regarded her like something he longed to study.

“What are your thoughts on the merits of advanced mathematics in the educational development of children under five?”

She suppressed her snort. The man had to be joking with that question. A glance at the serious expression on his face made her wonder.

“Well, I’m still trying to grasp the basic concepts and I’m over thirty. So perhaps early learning would be beneficial.”

He nodded. “You’ve done quite well in my class considering you say you don’t enjoy math.”

“You make it more interesting, arousing almost.” She couldn’t help blushing at that word choice. Rushing on. “You just teach it like you love it and you make me love it too.”

“I’m glad you enjoy it.” He smiled, unperturbed with her wording. “Perhaps I can turn you into a true lover of mathematics by the end of the course.”

Her naughty mind snagged on lover before the rest of her caught up. “Oh, oh, yes.”

The man knew exactly where her mind had gone, the slow smile revealed as much. He played the role of the geeky mathematician, but that smile showed he was aware of how he appealed to a select few. How he appealed to her.

“I look forward to our continued discussions, Ms. Claiborne.”

He practically purred her name and she felt decidedly warm. It made her think of her earlier fantasy and his personal lesson on fractal patterns. She needed that mathematic teaching.

“As do I,” came her breathy response.

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