I’d been teaching at the university for about 30 years, and I’d never met a more intriguing vision than Yang Ye, one of my students and a YouTube star off campus.She is both beautiful and mysterious.She was both breathtakingly refreshing and beautiful,which is why there is a dressed and undressed YouTube star article on her in the first place.Anyhow…
I became rather obsessed with this 20-year-old YouTube star the first time I saw her video on YouTube there was just something about her that drew me in.
I’m sure she’d pass any Mensa test as a genius, but she was notoriously lax and indifferent when it came to academics.
She would submit papers with astounding conclusions, but she was unconcerned about proper form and function.
She didn’t pay attention to basic grammar and punctuation rules, as if they didn’t matter.
Her most recent paper was the deciding factor.
I gave her a C and wrote at the top of the paper, “This could easily have been an A+.”Please come see me after class.”
I was curious to hear her response.I’ll admit that I had two motives: I genuinely wanted her to buckle down and work hard, but I also wanted to spend some time with her after everyone else had left my classroom.
As I handed out the papers to everyone in the class, I was waiting for her response.
To my luck I got to know more than just her response, as I happened to over hear her talking to her friend right next to the window of our teacher lounge and this is part of what I heard her say,perhaps she wanted me to hear that,of all places she could have taken her friend somewhere else.
“When I got my paper back, I couldn’t believe it! I had gotten a C!
I mean, that assignment was so boring, the most boring so far in class, that I did it in my sleep.
When I saw the comment at the top of the page and looked up at the professor, I saw disappointment mixed with something else that I couldn’t put my finger on.
I know he expected me to be conscientious about my work, but I became bored and handed in my assignment without editing it.
Now I have to pay, and I will pay.
The professor was a pleasant man, a little older than some of the university’s professors.
I recall being late for his class on the first day because of really stupid traffic on the way to university.
I walked into the room just as the professor was about to introduce himself.
I was red-faced from running, and I was out of breath as I apologized and searched for an open seat.
Unfortunately, there was only one, and it was right in front of me.
But, as it turned out, I enjoyed his classes, and as the semester progressed, I had the impression that I was growing to like the professor, and not in a platonic way.
Don’t get me wrong: I’m only 20 years old, so anyone over the age of 25, to me, is old.
I don’t usually go for older men; I prefer people my own age, but the professor was doing something to me without actually doing anything to me (if that makes any sense to you).
The more I attended his classes, the more I looked forward to them on a daily basis.
Even my friends noticed the difference; they began to notice that whenever his class was scheduled, I would be all giddy and happy.
Then came the assignments.
I really enjoy the professor’s class, but the assignment he assigned was tedious in the extreme.
Most of the time, I would type it up a day or two before the deadline because I would fly through the material with my eyes closed and didn’t care about grammar or edits.
I never thought about whether I should pay attention to it or not, but now I have a C grade on this paper!
With frustration, I almost crumpled the work in my hand; I wanted to throw a tantrum, but I restrained myself.
It would be inappropriate to embarrass myself in class.
Because his was the last lesson of the day, I stayed after all the other students had left, clutching the C grade assignment in my hand.
The professor said good-by to the last student and motioned for me to approach his desk.
I smoothed the paper on his desk and demanded to know why I received a C when I knew my work was superior to the grade he gave me.”
After hearing her conversation I was more excited to get her by herself because I had my own conversation planned for her.
I was finally alone with Yang We, and my heart was pounding as I watched her stride purposefully up the aisle and toward my desk.
After all, I wasn’t sure if this meeting was a good idea after all.
She was clearly irritated and upset with me, which was unsurprising.
Perhaps I should have given her a B instead of a C, but I was trying to make a point and get her full attention.
Given her obvious intelligence, I suspect she had never received such a low grade in her life.
I’ll admit that her raging rage surprised me.
I leaned back in my chair and listened to her rant, a rush of excitement rushing through me that I tried not to acknowledge.
When she was angry, she was quite attractive.
When she finally calmed down, she apologized for her outburst.
I remained silent for a full half-minute, staring at her as she cast her gaze downward.
When I told her that a professor might turn her over his knee at some point, she shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
I paused to allow her to fully process that image in her mind.
She slowly lifted her head and looked me in the eyes, a slight smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye.
I’ll admit that I felt a tingle in my groin as well, but I didn’t dwell on it.
I assured her that her reaction was understandable, but I also stood by my grade and explained why.
Finally, I offered to reconsider her grade if she was willing to put forth the necessary effort.
She considered it and asked me what she needed to do.
I invited her to stay after class for the next few weeks and offered to tutor her on the fine art of detail and presentation.
I explained that it wasn’t enough to scribble ideas on a piece of paper, no matter how good they were.
She needed to pay attention to details and consider her work’s overall scholarly presentation.
After we agreed to meet again after class the next day, I dismissed her and gave our meeting no more thought….that is, until she showed up in class the following day is an impossibly short, tight mini skirt and a flimsy, clingy blouse.