Saturday, March 4, 2017

A Student Drops My Class So We Can Date

Plains, September 2015

I teach in a discipline that gay men aren't typically drawn to, in a college that gay men aren't typically drawn to, so out of the 100 or so guys in my classes every semester, I expected only a few to be gay.

 But when the professor is gay, word gets around, and students enroll in your classes because they think you'll be a sympathetic voice.  And when you have a physique, they enroll just to look at you.

So, as it turns out, I get a lot of gay male students, especially in the big intro classes.

It's inevitable that we'll see each other occasionally on Grindr and other dating apps.  We follow an unwritten rule of ignoring each other.

Sometimes I don't recognize them -- it's at the beginning of the semester, when I don't know all the faces yet, or their profile pic isn't their face -- but after a few minutes, I figure out who they are, and go dark or keep the conversation friendly.

When the fall 2015 semester began, I went on Grindr every night, to check out the new freshmen and their profiles.  Since older approaching younger comes off as creepy, I waited for them to approach me.

As usual at the beginning of a semester, I got a dozen "Hi!" and "Do me, Daddy!" and pictures of penises within a few minutes.  I chatted with the ones who weren't ugly or obnoxious, and made some appointments for hookups, or added them to my "chat list" to talk to later.

But disappointingly, one guy with a very cute profile pic didn't approach me.  He was Reynard (not his real name), 18 years old, a theater arts major who  "lived for singing and dancing," and liked video games and cosplay. He was looking for "Mr. Right, but Mr. Right Now is ok."

I almost approached him, but decided against it.  I had enough guys on my hook-up list for the week. I could do without him.

On Friday, I flew out to Salt Lake City for my ex-boyfriend's wedding.  I returned on Monday, and didn't get back on Grindr until Tuesday.

I initiated chats with guys I already knew, and negotiated the usual batch of  "Hi!" and "Do me, Daddy!"  Then I noticed a picture of a boy bulging in ballet tights, probably in The Nutcracker.  From Reynard!

"Nice!" I shot back.  "Can I see more?"

"Thanks, Professor.  Can I see your cock?"

How did he know I was a professor?  I don't mention it in my profile.  Maybe he recognized me from campus?

"Sorry, have we met?"

"I'm in your intro class this semester."

I froze.  This had never happened before!  Students who were taking my classes stayed away from me, automatically!

"So, can I see your cock?  You're hot!"

"Sorry, I don't date students," I told him.  And then, to be polite, "But we can chat.  How do you like it on the Plains?"

"It's ok.  Classes are hard.  and I miss my friends back home."

"The campus gay student club has mixers and events..."

He sent a full face and body shot.  "If you don't want to date, that's ok.  I want to go down on your gigantic cock, Professor.  I want you to top me.  I don't have a lot of experience, but I want to learn."

"Well, first of all, stop calling me Professor.  Second, I don't hook up with students, either.  But we can chat, and..."

He blocked me.

On Thursday in class, I looked around for Reynard, but didn't see him.  There were three guys with his first name on my roster, but none of them were him.

That Friday, I got an email from Reynard in my university account.

"Hi, Professor, sorry I got mad before.  Guess what -- I dropped your class!  Text me: ____."

Now what?  I had no problem dating guys who weren't taking my class, but dropping just because we might be able to hook up?  It was bizarre.  Reynard was either socially incompetent or unstable, and either way, I didn't need him around.

I texted him: "Hi, Reynard.  No problem.  Sorry you dropped my class.  As I said, I don't date students, but I hope to see you at the events at the gay center, or at the gay-friendly coffee house."

He didn't respond.

I never heard from Reynard again.  He never came to the gay-friendly coffee house, and if he came to events at the gay center, I didn't notice in the crowd.

The Plains, March 2017

You don't forget someone who dropped your class so he can date you, so I thought about Reynard often.  I hoped that he was adjusting to campus life, that he got some help fitting in, finding gay people for friendship and dating.

A year and a half later, I suddenly got a text from Reynard:

"Hi, Professor, remember me?  Guess what -- I transferred to __ College [About 100 miles away]. They have a great dance program, and it's a small school, so I fit in better."

He sent a photo attachment -- shirtless, more buffed than I remember.

"Great," I responded. "Glad that you're doing well.  You look like you're working out."

 "Yep!  I bench my body weight."

"Not bad."

"Anyway, spring break is coming up, and I'm only a hundred miles from your town.  Since I'm not a student anymore, or at least not a student at your college, do you want to get together?"

A year and a half after he drops my class for a possibility of a hookup, he wants to drive 100 miles for the possibility of a hook up?

I'm in!

Our date is on Saturday.  I can't wait!

The story continues in: The Best Date in the History of the Plains

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