by Alexis Angel
"Christine Jalili," the Dean says and the two of us both stop.
I let go of her arm and Christine turns towards the Dean who sees her and smiles. She smiles and does a cute little curtsy.
Why would she curtsy?
"Congratulations," people whisper around her and pat her on the back or shake her hand.
That's when I see it.
Despite the fake smile, she's trying to hold back a frown.
Most people don't see it.
But I see that single tear run down her cheek. That look of profound sadness. At being given an opportunity she didn't earn.
The sadness of unearned success.
If only I could do something to make her feel better.
If only I could tell her.
16
Christine
Two.
That's how many months Anders and I have been secretly having sex. I mean, that's a really crude way of putting what we've been doing, I know, but until we can be more public about it, it really is secretly having sex. Despite everything else that we may be feeling for each other, it's not like I can randomly kiss him in the hallway like I could if I were anyone else that wasn't his student.
I mean, I can tell that how we got closer and closer. I can tell that when he looks into my eyes he's not just seeing some piece of ass that's going to be moving on at the end of the semester freeing him up to go chase someone else.
The way he looks at me - it's in a way that I really haven't been looked at before, you know? It's kind of scary at first.
But then this happened.
"I don't know if we should go on vacation together after the semester ends," I told him one morning after waking up. We had had some real marathon freaky sex the night before and my clit was sore to say the least. But you know even after sex the next morning when you wake up feeling just as horny? Like all that cumming you did just a few hours ago did absolutely nothing in calming your horniness. Your hormones are just making you go wild.
Yeah, it was that kinda morning. I remember pushing my ass back against that thick, fat cock of his. Anders groaning and putting his arms on my hips, pulling me even closer.
Then he said those words that made me realize this wasn't just a fling between student and teacher.
"Just imagine after this term is ended and we can do this all the time," he said. "We should go on vacation together after the semester. Are you free?".
But what didI hear?
This is what my brain interpreted it as:
"I want to keep banging you, and pretend we're having a normal relationship, but not here where I know people. Lets go do that somewhere where no one knows us, yeah?"
Maybe I was being crazy.
"No, Anders," I said, turning over.
Great, I remember thinking. Now instead of his cock poking and prodding my ass, it was inches from my cooch.
"I'm not going on vacation with you till we know what we're doing together," I told him, looking him in the eyes.
That's when his eyes went all distant.
"I thought you knew, darling," he said in that Mid-Atlantic voice of American aristocracy. "I love you."
Okay, so we were naked. I may have had morning breath. He was still scruffy. But he looked so cute.
"I love you, Christine," he said to me - his dark eyes looking into mine. "You don't have to say anything now, I just wanted..."
But I never let him finish. I was kissing him and running my hands over his body, desperately trying to pull him closer into me. If it was at all possible that we'd be pulled together into the same person - become one being - I would have done it. I wanted to be inseparable with Anders.
When I finally came up for air, I looked at him and smiled. "I hope you realize I love you too," I told him.
* * *
Six.
That's how many times I've sat down in front of the Selections Committee for the United Nations Consultancy Program.
Guess who's been on the committee every single time?
Yep.
Anders Trask.
I mean, talk about conflict of interest, right? This tops them all. For a program that's designed to judge the applicants on the moral fiber that they carry, I'm somehow not sure that sleeping with my professor who also happens to be on the nominating committee is the best idea.
The worst part about it? Anders doesn't seem to care.
* * *
Four.
That's how many times I've tried to bring up the fact that I'm not completely comfortable with the arrangement.
The first time, he just picked me up and threw me on the bed and began to kiss my neck. I mean, you try talking and expressing your concerns when you have a giant cock rubbing up against you and a wonderful man feeling your boob and kissing your neck. So I gave up that time.
The second time he went down on me. He even used his fingers. It was a long, slow process where he stimulated my G-spot over and over. He told me to relax and I closed my eyes, letting everything go. All of a sudden, it felt like I had to pee. Anders told me to trust him, and my body began to shake and before I knew it, I was squirting.
That's right. I was freakin' squirting! I was cumming too. This was insane.
So, yeah, I kinda forgot about the whole conflict of interest issue.
The next time was just yesterday. Anders tried to have sex with me, but by now I had sorta wised up.
Something was up where it seemed that every time I tried to bring this up I was instead experiencing powerful orgasms.
I mean, I'm not complaining. And if I keep getting orgasms, maybe manufacturing some conflicts of interest isn't a bad idea. Keep the spice alive in our relationship? God, that sounds so lame. We're much more cooler as a secret couple than that.
"Let's talk about it tomorrow over brunch then," Anders said when I wouldn't back down.
Fine. If he wanted 24 hours, I could wait.
The final time I brought it up is just now.
We're sitting at Balthazar. It's a Sunday morning.
And I'm going to figure out just how over the ethical line we are with what's going on. On one hand, I don't want to recuse myself from being considered for only the most important award and opportunity in my career. But I don't want to get that great opportunity on the back of a lie.
So wish me luck, babe. If Anders has been ducking this convo for a while I have a feeling it's going to be a bit of a doozy.
17
Anders
So Christine probably basically said that everytime she tries to bring up the whole conflict of interest bit I try to have sex with her, didn't she?
Don't try to turn the page or move on. I know she did.
It's okay. No reason for it to be awkward. I know she tells you things about me when I'm not there, because it's her POV.
So sure, I've been trying to shut Christine up with my cock. No, I didn't mean it to sound like what it just sounded like. I'm not stuffing it in her mouth or anything.
Well, actually I am. Fuck.
But nevermind. That's not what I mean. I mean, yes, I am absolutely having sex with her to get her mind off this conflict of interest thing that she's got her head around.
Christine is talented and smart. She's intelligent and funny.
She brings people together and the work that she has done has been excellent.
I've got absolutely no complaint about her as an academic. And that's independent of her other skills.
I promise you, I'm not letting those tits or that ass bias my judgment. I'm not taking her cock sucking skills into account. I'm not thinking about how tight her pussy is around my dick when I tell you this.
You're shaking your head at me with a smile, I know.
But you're going to be proven wrong if you think I'm letting my cock bias my judgment.
Besides, aren't I supposed to be looking out for my girlfriend?
Let's drop the ethical implications here for a second about whether it's right or wrong to sleep with a stu
dent and be on a panel deciding her entry into a prestigious program.
Instead, let's look at the ethics of nature.
Universities haven't been around more than maybe 800 years. The UN hasn't been around even a 100 years.
But for thousands of years we've had men protecting and looking out for their women. Making sure they had enough food, water, and shelter to take care of their families.
Yeah, I'm thinking like a fucking cave man, but I am here to protect Christine. No other guy is going to do it for her. If he did, he'd probably want to fuck her too and then we'd have a problem, because he'd probably be dead.
So you can't blame me for wanting to protect her. And right now, I promise you, protecting her is trying to get her not to think about this situation that we're in.
Which is going to be harder said than done.
She starts the pressure from the morning.
Right as I wake up, I'm under assault from Christine Jalili.
Her hand is already working my cock under the blankets before my eyes fucking open.
I look over and she smiles at me.
"Hey big boy," she purrs. "Thought I'd wake up with a morning snack."
Before I can say anything, she dives her head under the covers. A second later I feel her warm mouth engulf the tip of my cock.
I sigh.
She continues her ministrations.
I groan.
I'm about to cum she's that good.
But that's when she stops.
I'm a little puzzled when her head pops out the blankets. She looks at me.
"Tell me why you don't want to talk about how fucking unethical and improper it is that you nominated me for the Consultancy Program and are judging me?" she says, her eyes narrowing at me.
Fucking hell.
My balls are ready to burst and she's looking at me, making it very clear that she's not doing anything until I answer her question.
"I thought a lot about it and I realize there's something you're keeping from me," Christine says, her eyes never leaving mine. "I want to know before I get in any more trouble."
"You're not going to get in any trouble," I gasp out.
"Tell me or no sex," she says to me.
Fucking Christ.
People may think of me and my family as soft because we descended from the Mayflower Pilgrims. But I guarantee you growing up with money has done nothing to make me soft. If anything, I've learned to put up with struggle.
"Then it's no sex," I tell her, my balls aching and my cock twitching as I get out of bed. It's hard and not getting any softer.
I see Christine's eyes glued to my cock as I stand up from the bed.
"I'll shower and be ready for brunch if you still want to go," I tell her.
She nods, still entranced by my cock.
But she doesn't let up.
"What is it then that keeps me like this secret part of your life then if you're not worried about the ethical aspect of what we're doing?" Christine asks me as the waiter puts our bellinis down. We're sitting at Balthazar at an outside table. "Because it seems like you're not worried about sleeping with me when you're on the selection committee for the program, but yet you still keep me a secret from your professor friends."
I sigh. How am I going to explain this?
"It's not that I'm not worried about this," I tell her as she rolls her eyes at me. "It's just that while the University doesn't forbid a relationship between us, it's probably best to come out with it till after you leave my class."
"But what about the program?" she asks me.
I shrug.
"I don't think you have anything to worry about the program," I tell her. "I'm pretty sure you're going to be a shoo-in."
I'm serious. I meant for it to comfort her.
But I'm a guy and I don't understand what girls are thinking about sometimes.
Because her eyes tear up.
"You've done something, haven't you?" she asks me, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. "You've stacked the deck for me, haven't you?"
"What?" I ask shocked. "Why would I do that?"
"You mean you told them not to select me?" she asks.
I stare at her. Unfortunately I can't say anything more without giving it away. So I remain silent.
"Why can't you just tell me? I don't care what you did, but I'd be more hurt if there was someone more qualified and they never got the chance because of me and you..." Christine begins but I stop her.
"I can't say anything more, Christine," I say to her in a very professional manner. "I hope you understand. It's just my principles I can't compromise."
Christine's eyes go wide and she spends a long moment staring at me. Then, as if she's putting a wall around her heart, she composes herself.
"You have your principles, I get that," she tells me. "I do too."
And with that, she scoots her chair back and gets up. I watch her as she walks away.
I guess the ball is truly in her court now.
Let's see what she does with it.
18
Christine
“Don’t tell me you’re breaking up with Professor Hung?” Kim asks me, placing the straw of her cocktail between her lips and taking a sip. She always has these nicknames for the men we’re dating - and Anders’ happens to varies from Professor Hung to Professor Handsome.
“It’s… complicated,” I tell her, staring down at my own cocktail but not drinking it. I just move the straw around in long, wide circles, thinking back to my fight with Anders. And now that Kim is putting it like that, these two terrible words - break up - feel like a neon sign inside my head.
“Of course it is complicated,” Kim looks me in the eye and places her cocktail down. She’s looking at me in that way of hers, reading me as if she’s a psychic. “You’re torn between the UN Consultancy Program and Professor Handsome,” she tells me patiently. Kim always had a knack for understanding people, and she always gets to the bottom of things without tiptoeing around the truth. That’s why I’m here with her, in one of the booths at Dos Caminos, recounting her what just happened with Anders. The fight, the way I stormed off… I even told her of the amazing sex we had before it.
“Yeah… I guess…” I mutter, still moving the straw around in an endless circle, my heart tightening up inside my chest as I realize that I might have ruined things with both Anders and the Consultancy Program. But I just don’t know what to do! This is a complete mess, and it’s all my fault.
“So, pick one,” she smiles at me, and I can tell that she understands how hard that choice really is. How do you make a choice like this - your ambitions and your whole future, or the man of your dreams? Why can’t I just have both?
“It’s not that simple,” I state the obvious, forcing myself to take a sip out of my cocktail. Maybe if I get a little buzz going on I’ll find the courage to make a decision. Hooray for liquid courage, right?
“Yeah, yeah. It’s complicated,” Kim sighs, taking another sip out of her cocktail, “it’s always complicated with you, girl. But I get it, you’re between a rock and a hard place. But there’s no way around it - you’ll have to decide, Christine.”
“I know, I know… I just… I just don’t know what to do!” I cry out, chomping on my lower lip as the memories of these two past months dance around inside my mind. I had a regular life before Anders, but he turned it all upside down. And, as bad as my situation is right now, I can’t really say that I would have done it any differently.
“Do you love him?” Kim asks, reaching for me and squeezing my hand. I raise my eyes from the glass and return her gaze, her words hanging heavy in the air. She looks at me patiently, waiting for my reply. Do you love him? Well, do I?
I purse my lips and close my eyes just for one second, all these memories flooding me. I think back to the first time our paths really crossed, when he carried me up to the nursery, or when he caught me talking about his huge cock right here in Dos Caminos… I remember the way I felt when I saw h
is naked body for the first time, and I remember how amazing it felt every single time we fucked and, more than that, every time we made love. Love.
“You love him, Christine,” Kim says, placing both her hands on top of mine. “You don’t even need to say it, I can see it in your face.”
“Yes I love him, okay! That doesn’t change a thing! I can’t keep on doing what I’m doing, living in secret…!” I cry out in protest. The fact that I love him doesn’t make this any easier. In fact, it just makes things a lot more complicated. If he was just a fling I could try to forget him, move on and focus on my studies and career. But I can’t do that when he’s the one I love, when he’s the most special man I have ever met.
“Well, there you have it, Christine,” she smiles, “you’re solving your own riddle.”
“What do you mean?”
“You said that you can’t keep on doing what you’re doing… So why don’t you change things? Stop doing the wrong thing, and start doing the right one.”
“And… what’s the right thing?” I sigh, still feeling torn. But she’s right - I have to do the right thing here.
“That’s for you to find out,” she tells me, and I squeeze back her hand. “But you love him, and that has to count for something.”
“I… I do love him,” I say, the way the words fall out of my lips almost making me dizzy. I love him, I really do. But am I willing to pay the price for this love? To let go of everything I’ve ever wanted because of Anders? The answer cuts through all the confusion in my mind like the light from a beacon, and the answer is a resounding yes. I love him too much to allow the Consultancy Program to step between the two of us. “I know what I have to do,” I tell Kim, standing up in a hurry and almost spilling my cocktail to the floor.
“And…?” Kim looks up at me, a bright smile on her lips. God bless her.
“I’m going to pay the Dean a visit,” I just say, placing a folded bill under my cocktail glass and grabbing my purse.