by Claire Adams
He covered his face with his hands. “I can’t believe you,” he said. “And I can’t believe her! Did she plan on doing that? What is wrong with students these days? My God!”
“Settle down. You’re the one who’s going to be causing a scene. Listen, Jack,” I said, dropping my voice, “she didn’t do anything she didn’t want to, and I didn’t either. We’re both adults, and we’re both enjoying the hell out of what we’ve got going on right now. You’re sitting here crying over the fact that your students aren’t interested in what you’ve got to say, while I’ve got one who can’t keep her hot little hands off of me. If I had to choose to be one of us right now, you want to guess who I’d pick?”
He kept his hands over his face as he shook his head. “No,” he said. “No, I don’t, and I don’t think we should talk about this anymore.”
Two days later, feature writing class. Part of me felt like a kid on Christmas morning, I was so impatient for class to start.
Tessa was wearing a long-sleeved lilac T-shirt and a flowing gray skirt that stopped just below the knee. It was sheer, and the material looked butter soft, and I just wanted to go over there and run my fingers up the skirt and find out firsthand whether or not she’d decided to do what I’d said in that note.
But there was a roomful of students, so I couldn’t. I remained in my chair, keeping her in plain view, letting my imagination run wild.
We started a discussion about how to craft compelling openings, which was a skill many of the students were lacking. Kristin was more than happy to take over leading the discussion, so I let her, and leaned back in my chair and looked over at Tessa.
She was looking right at me, and I had a feeling she had been trying to get my attention that way for a few minutes. When I caught her eye, she lowered hers, toward her lap. She did this twice, and then she slowly spread her feet apart.
The desk cast a shadow, so only her knees were visible, but if I leaned back in my chair, I could get a better view of underneath the desk. I saw her fingers on her thighs, moving slowly, pulling the fabric of the skirt up, up, up. Those lovely, slender thighs of hers. My cock pressed against my jeans, throbbing. The hem of her skirt continued to rise, and more and more bare thigh was exposed.
And then, there she was, fully exposed, and if Kristin looked over, she’d be getting an eyeful of Tessa, all of Tessa, but Kristin was too involved in whatever discussion it was she was having with one of the students.
Tessa slouched down a little further, and my eyes raced around the room before landing back on her, trying to hold back my laughter. The other students had no idea any of this was happening, and that only served to heighten my enjoyment. It was excruciating, though, not being able to do anything except look. Because, oh, I wanted to do so much more than that.
Tessa must’ve been watching Kristin, because she sat straight up, pushing her skirt down, right as Kristin’s gaze went over in her direction. The abruptness of it caught me off guard, and I blinked, as though all I had to do was wait a second and she’d have her legs spread, her pussy on full display.
But no, she was pushing her skirt down and crossing her legs, leaving me to sit there with a rock hard dick, thinking about how wonderful it would feel to be in between those legs of hers.
Kristin had a meeting to get to right after class, so she packed up right away and was one of the first ones out. I sat there, watching Tessa slowly put her own books away. To the casual observer, it would not seem like she was doing anything out of the ordinary, yet I knew she was deliberately taking her time.
“I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes,” I heard her say to Lindsey. Lindsey grinned, shot a look in my direction, and then joined the flow of students streaming out of the classroom. Then it was just the two of us.
“You’re making it almost impossible for me to teach class,” I said. “How am I supposed to teach a class when I’ve got a hard-on the whole time?”
She came over to me, slinging her backpack across one of her shoulders.
“That’s a nice skirt,” I said. I was still sitting in my chair, and she came right over to the side of it. She took my hand and put it underneath her skirt. Her skin was smooth, and I ran my hand up her inner thigh, feeling the warm, wet heat between her legs. She inhaled sharply as I pressed a finger against her, but then she pulled away, her skirt falling back down to cover her knees. Early students for the next class were tromping into the classroom.
“Thanks for clearing that up for me,” she said. “That makes much more sense now. Bye.”
“Wait,” I said. She stopped. “What are you doing later? Come over to my place.”
She licked her lips, nodding. “Okay.” And then she turned and walked out, the students that had arrived completely oblivious.
I rubbed my fingers together, massaging the moisture into my skin. I didn’t know what class she had now, or if she was going to go home, or maybe into the women’s room to rub one out. That was sure as hell what I needed to do though, if I wanted to be able to get through the day without a huge boner.
I finished packing up my stuff and went into my office, making sure the door was locked. I sat down in my chair and thought about Tessa.
“I’m glad to see you didn’t go home and change,” I said to her later when I opened my door to find her standing there.
Tessa smiled as she stepped in. “I thought about it,” she said. She grabbed my hand and put it under her skirt, spreading her legs. I let out a happy exhale. “I’ve been so wet all day I thought for sure there would’ve been a big wet mark on the back of my skirt, but there wasn’t. Surprisingly.”
I rubbed her clit and her eyes got cloudy. “Quite surprising,” I said. “It must’ve felt rather nice going around commando all day though.”
“I’ll tell you what feels good,” she said, her voice little more than a gasp. “This.” I kept rubbing her until I felt her inner thigh muscles quiver.
I pulled my hand back before she could come. Her eyes flew open.
“I bet you’ve really enjoyed not wearing underwear all day,” I said.
“I did. I’ve never done that before. I felt so . . . exposed. Even though no one else knew I wasn’t wearing underwear.”
“And did you like that too? Feeling exposed like that? Feeling like at any moment, anyone could just come along and push your skirt up and take you right then and there?”
“You know, I did, actually. It was like all that needed to happen was the breeze to blow just the right way and my skirt would go flying up and my ass would’ve been on full view for anyone who was around.”
“That’s a delicious thought. Come with me.”
We went in the bedroom, and I pulled my shirt off, tossing it on the floor. I took hers off and marveled at those perfect tits of hers, both with my eyes and my hands, then my mouth.
“Have you ever been tied up before?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No . . . but it’s actually something I’ve wanted to try.”
“I don’t have padded handcuffs or anything like that,” I said, “but I think we could make do with a few of my old sports ties that I never wear.”
“What if we record it? I’ve never done that before either.”
I tried to hide my surprised expression. She wanted to make a sex tape? “Sure,” I said. “If you want to, I’m all for it.”
She got up and started going through her purse while I went into my closet and found, at the very back, a handful of ties in a variety of bright colors. She’d set her phone up on my dresser. I eyed it.
“You really want to tape this?”
“I think it’ll be hot to rewatch it. Don’t worry; I’m not going to post it on YouTube or anything.”
“I really don’t think YouTube would let you put something like that up to begin with.”
I had a platform bed that didn’t really have anything you could tie someone to, so instead, I tied her wrists together above her head, and held the excess material in my left hand,
pulling tight so she couldn’t move her arms. Her skirt was still on, so I pushed it up so it was around her waist and I started teasing her, rubbing her clit, then moving my hand down and starting to slide a finger into her but pulling it back before it was able to really enter her. She started to writhe, little mewling sounds escaping from her throat. I kissed her throat, her nipples. I kept doing this until she was practically convulsing with desire and begging me to stop, and the only thing she wanted was to feel me inside of her.
Happy to oblige.
I kicked my pants off, and, still holding her hands above her head, I nudged her thighs apart with my knee, then used the head of my dick to probe at her. When I felt her entrance, I paused, not quite in her yet, feeling her whole body quiver. And then I thrust my hips forward, pushing all the way into her, so our pelvises were touching.
She let out an anguished-sounding shriek and her arms thrashed against the tie, but I held on tight. She was so wet it was like a slip and slide, except she was also so wonderfully tight that I felt like I barely had to even move. I took deep breaths and tried to take the edge off a little, because if I didn’t, I was going to come right then and there, and I wanted this to last as long as it possibly could.
So we both moved slowly, and I alternated between short, shallow thrusts and longer, harder ones, taking my time before pulling my dick almost all the way back out of her. She wrapped her legs around my waist and arched her back, pulled valiantly against the tie, but there was no way I was letting this go. I started to fuck her harder, faster, falling into a rhythm and she moved with me, and it felt like we had merged and become one. I tightened my grasp on the tie, pulling her arms further above her head, and I leaned my forehead against hers as we both came together.
13.
Tessa
I met up with Lindsey at the Haymarket. We had plenty of work that we needed to do, but first she wanted to hear all about what I had done with Leo. I hadn’t told her about not wearing underwear to class, but I did now.
“You really did that?” she asked. “The other day in class?”
“Yes.”
“And I had no idea! Holy shit. Who are you turning into? That time at the bar, not wearing underwear to class, getting tied up . . . and did you say you videotaped it, too?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“That’s so hot. I mean, I know you were originally going to try to get some stuff to use in case he tried to not give you a good grade, but now it seems more like you should just have it because it’s so hot. Have you watched it?”
“No, not yet.”
“Your sex life is more exciting than mine! That is so hot, by the way. I have never been able to find a guy that wants to tie me up! Why is that? Isn’t it supposed to be like every guy’s secret fetish or something?”
“It wasn’t my idea,” I said, thinking back to the way it felt with my wrists trapped against the smooth silk of the tie, my arms yanked up over my head, immobilized. Before that had happened, I wouldn’t have said I was someone who was into that sort of thing, but now that I’d actually experienced it, I realized how great it was.
“I’m kind of jealous, you know,” Lindsey said. “This makes me want to go proposition one of my professors. Except none are as hot as Leo is, so it probably wouldn’t be as fun. Do you think it’s going to stop once the semester is over? It kind of seems like it’s something you guys should keep doing. I know I would.”
“I don’t know,” I said. Originally, that had been the plan, but now I didn’t want to stop it. It was too much fun, too exciting. I had a feeling he felt the same way. “It would be nice if we could keep it going. But maybe that’s why it’s working out so well right now? Because we both assumed there was going to be an end date?”
Lindsey made a face. “Maybe,” she said, “but I would hate to think that good sex only happens because you know you’re not going to have to see the person forever.”
“I don’t think that. But . . . maybe it would start to lose its appeal if we kept doing it. I wouldn’t want this to go from something that had been so exciting to totally monotonous.” I could remember how exciting things had felt with Nick when we first started hooking up. It had felt similar to this, and then Nick had decided he wasn’t interested anymore. I wanted to think that things with Leo were different, but he was, after all, still a guy. And guys seemed able to get sick of things when you were least expecting it.
“Based on what you’ve told me, I highly doubt that it would ever get monotonous. Monogamous, maybe.” She grinned. “Could you imagine if Leo was your boyfriend? I mean, that would be totally crazy. He’s so hot. And once this semester is over, you won’t be his student anymore, so you could totally go public with being in a relationship with him.”
“I can’t even think that far into the future right now,” I said. “I just want to enjoy the way things are going, and keep focused on schoolwork, because really, that’s what got this whole thing started to begin with.”
“And to think that none of this would have happened if you hadn’t gotten a few C’s.”
It was weird the way things worked out sometimes. If I had never gone to him about the extra credit, none of this would be happening right now. “All right,” I said, pulling my laptop toward me. “Let’s get back to work.”
Lindsey and I stayed at the Haymarket for a couple hours, and we were pretty good about staying on task and getting some studying done. I finished a paper I had for my feminist fiction class and almost finished reading three chapters for my moral philosophy course. Was it ironic that one of the chapters I read examined the morality behind doing something pleasurable despite the fact that you knew it was wrong, even if it wasn’t hurting anyone?
As I was driving back to the apartment, my phone started to ring. I came to a red light, so I pulled it out of my purse and looked at the screen. It was my father.
“Hello?” I said, wondering why he was calling me now. “Is everything okay?”
“Hi, Tessa,” he said. “Yes, everything’s fine. How are you doing?”
“Good. I just finished up at the Haymarket; I was there studying with Lindsey.”
“Glad to hear it. That’s mainly the reason for my call—I just wanted to check in with you and see how things were going with your studies. But you sound like you’ve got things back on the right track.”
“Yeah, Dad,” I said. “I think you and Mom would both be pretty pleased with the work that I’m doing.”
“I hope we’ll see that reflected in your grades.”
“You will.”
“Good. You and I didn’t really have an opportunity to talk at all after that day you stopped by the house. I know I came off as a bit stern, but it’s only because we care about you and want to make sure that you’re living up to your full potential. I also don’t want you to think that we’re holding anything over your head. I know it might seem that way, but we’re paying for your apartment and bills right now because we want you to have the time you need to truly dedicate yourself to your studies. And I won’t keep you on the phone long; like I said, I just wanted to check in, and it sounds like everything is going well. I’ll be sure to let your mother know.”
“Okay, sounds good,” I said. “Thanks for calling.”
There were a few awkward seconds of silence, then we both said goodbye. My father wasn’t much of a phone person, and I knew that he must have been bothered by the way things had gone down that day at their house if he was calling me now.
There was a part of me that did feel guilty about what I was doing with Leo, if only because I knew how badly my parents would freak if they ever found out. I pushed that thought out of my mind though, and told myself they wouldn’t find out, and that even though I was doing that with him, I was still taking care of my schoolwork. I felt pleased with the amount of work that I’d done, and despite things seeming totally hopeless a few short weeks ago, things had really turned around. I let my thoughts go to Leo, and I wondered what he was doing t
hat very moment, and a part of me ached to be with him and wished that he would be there when I walked into my apartment.
I stopped in the lobby to check the mail, which I hadn’t done in a couple days, and as I stood in the elevator, I flipped through the circulars, a shoe catalog that looked semi-interesting, the phone bill, and then a white envelope, addressed to me. There was no return address.
I smiled as I slid my thumb underneath the flap of the envelope to open it. I had liked that he’d included that note with my last assignment he handed back, but actually sending me something in the mail . . . there was something very tantalizing about that.
The elevator reached my floor, and the door slid open, so I stepped out and let myself into my apartment before opening the envelope all the way. I pulled out a sheet of unlined white paper, folded in thirds. Whatever was written on there had been typed.
I started to read.
We know what you are doing with Leo Rochman. Such activities could get you
both thrown out of Benton College, as it is in direct violation of school policy. If
you would like that this be kept secret, the following is required: You must write
a five-page paper about the government’s response to Hurricane Katrina and
whether or not you think the outcome would have been different if New Orleans
had not been predominately black. You have a week to do this. MLA citation
required. Ignoring this letter, taking it to the dean, or in any other way trying
to get out of doing this will result in the whole school knowing about the
relationship between you and Leo Rochman, which will have catastrophic
consequences for you both.
I read the letter again, certain that I had missed something, I’d missed the punchline, or the part where Leo said it was really from him, and it was all a joke, and what he REALLY wanted was for me to let him tie me back up again. But no—there was only an anonymous Gmail address that I was supposed to email the paper to when I was finished.