by Zoey Long
Last night I had a very sexy dream about her. In the dream, Carrie and I were kissing and I was my hands through her gorgeous red hair before she dropped to her knees. I didn’t have a chance to ask her what she wanted to do now. She knelt in front of me and reached for the button at the top of my suit pants. We were outside somewhere but completely hidden, and I couldn’t bring myself to stop her. I was so hard I could feel every stitch of my pants.
She unzipped me slowly with a tentativeness that hinted at asking. My cock fell out stiff and hard toward her, flush with blood. She smiled and took it in her hands before teasing the head of my dick with her tongue. I felt my legs buckle slightly at the feel of her hot mouth on me. She licked the underside and then my cock was in her mouth completely. I looked down at her, watching her work me slowly at first with her tongue swirling the tip of my cock some more, then deeper, working it up and down, hard and fast. Her eyes were closed at first but then she looked up at me and I was so turned on I braced myself and closed my eyes. I started looking around but there was no one anywhere near us. We were still hidden from view but the threat of getting caught had my mind racing. The danger was turning both of us on.
I rested my hands on her shoulders, knowing that if she kept working me like that I was going to come in her mouth.
“Are you sure you want to?” I breathe.
She stops for a moment and keeps jerking me with her hand.
“Yes. I want you to come. It turns me on. Sometimes I can come just from giving,” she whispered excitedly.
In the dream, I remember thinking that I had no idea if that’s true or not, but I wanted to find out. I wanted to know everything there is to know about her and her orgasm. She moaned affirmatively and kept going. I looked down at her and grabbed onto her shoulders again. Then I grabbed a fistful of that thick fiery hair and thought about what it would feel like to be inside of her. She inhaled sharply, excited. I grabbed her hair harder and started bobbing her gently up and down. She seemed really turned on by this, and took one hand and rubbed her pussy. Seeing her touch herself sent me over the edge.
“Yes, that’s it,” I breathed.
She moaned again, knowing I was about to come. I released into her mouth and she whimpered, not stopping for a moment. I felt her swallow me whole. She rested her head on my torso for a moment before standing. When she stood up, I held her close to me. She moaned in my ear.
“That was hot.”
She pressed her hair against me, into the crook of my neck. She smelled heavenly, like creme brulee. I closed my eyes and breathed her in. I wanted to make love to her, photograph her, look at her for the rest of the day or for the rest of my life.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” I said. She breathed hard into my neck, and I imagine I can hear her smiling as she caught her breath. “You have to promise me, you can’t say anything about this.”
“Oh my God, you don’t trust me?’
She looked up at me, her lips swollen and delectably pink. She picked up my coffee from the ground, finished it in one gulp, then checked her phone.
That was the dream. Fuck, this girl is consuming my thoughts, conscious or not. I step out of the shower and dry myself off, wrapping the towel tightly around my waist. I decide not to shave and just get dressed. My phone beeps.
Happy Friday, professor. Miss you.
My heart jumps into my throat at first, but it’s from Lana. We’ve lost touch a little since I started the semester, which she gets. I don’t have all the free time in the world anymore. She picked up a gig doing makeup for a theatre production in Williamsburg, which sounds a lot more glamorous than it is, according to her texts. I look over at my setup, my dark curtain, the vanity. It’s been months since I’ve done a shoot. I need to fix that. When I took this job, I told myself that I would still have all of this time for shoots.
“Oh, I’ll have a steady paycheck and I can still pursue my other interests.”
Right. Lately the only thing I am interested in when I get home is Netflix and sleep. With all the pre-class prep and lesson planning and staff meetings and conference meetings, who has time for anything else? Me, apparently. I have time to tongue kiss my students in the dark room. I sit down at my desktop and open my editing software. I haven’t even had a chance to edit the photos from my last shoot. I do a quick first pass on all the pictures, axing ones that are blurry or unflattering. A shot of the young blond dancer against the wall catches my attention immediately, and with some quick refining touches I have a pretty good image. She’s running her hand through the front of her short choppy hair, standing in the black pushup bra and panties, garter belt, and stockings. She’s not smiling, but she’s penetrating the lens with her dark smoky eye makeup and red lips. I’ll send this one to the client as a preview. I remember taking this shot specifically, I knew I had it.
I have my headphones in when I get to campus, coffee in hand, feeling a little better. Maybe I just need to remember to make time for my own creative interests. Maybe that’s the key to keeping my head out of my ass at work, or my tongue out of Carrie’s mouth. I’m stupidly playing Placebo, which would get anyone in the mood to fuck. I’ve started drinking cortados, espresso with a dollop of milk. They certainly don’t have that at the center cafe.
As I get deeper into campus and closer to my office space, my eyes begin searching frantically for Carrie. I don’t know if it’s because I want to see her or if I am trying to avoid her desperately. I guess I feel a bit like a sitting duck. I don’t know what to expect.
A woman bumps into me suddenly, knocking me in the shoulder. All I see is a flash of black hair, jeans, boots, and a flash of green. She dropped her notebook. I bend down to get it for her, removing my headphones.
“Thanks,” she says. When I stand up I realize I’m face to face with those emerald eyes.
“Morning, Adam,” Carrie says with a smirk and a flash of white teeth. I don’t know the brunette in glasses that dropped her things, but the two of them were walking together. The brunette seems to know me, she has a huge grin on her face and her eyes are darting back and forth between Carrie and me.
“Oh, I didn’t spill your coffee, did I?” the brunette asks apologetically.
“No, no, you’re fine,” I say, not taking my eyes off of Carrie. Some espresso spilled on my hand but it’s not a big deal. I can’t even feel it. You could probably cut me open right now I’m so full of adrenaline.
“Hi. How are you, Carrie?”
“Me? I’m great.”
I look her over. She’s wearing a hip length black wool coat over a bright cherry red dress, topped with a big scarf. She looks stunning. But she’s fucking with me. I can tell by the way she’s standing. She’s pivoting on her heel, swaying back and forth, teasing me. She has power right now and she knows it. The friend doesn’t seem to notice. She’s posing again.
“Hey, Adam?” the friend asks.
“Hi, I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met.” I hope for some clarification. I can’t look Carrie in the eye right now. Not after my sex dream and jerking off to the thought of her in the dark room.
“I’m Michelle. Sorry, we haven’t met. I know you from the course catalog. I’m a transfer. I was wondering, you don’t have any more room in your erotic photo class, do you?”
She laughs, much more than necessary. Carrie does not break her perfect smile. I look at both of them aghast.
“It’s not an erotic photo class. It’s pinup photography, as you can tell from the description. No one is nude. And no, I think it’s full up. Thanks for asking, though.”
Carrie is smirking now. I wonder exactly what she’s told this friend. I assume that’s her intention, to make me wonder, make me suffer.
“I’ve heard so much about the class,” Michelle continues. “Carrie has been telling me all about the class and how much she’s enjoying it.”
Carrie does not take her piercing eyes off of me for a second. They’re searin
g. It’s as if she’s trying to get me to implicate myself right here. I need to get going.
“I really appreciate the praise. Now, if you’ll excuse me...”
“Actually, Michelle is on her way to Garrett Hall,” Carrie says, elbowing her friend in the ribs. “As for me, I think I’m headed your way. Let me walk with you.”
In a very forward gesture, Carrie loops her arm through mine. If I refuse her right now it’ll look suspicious. My head is starting to spin.
“Oh. Yeah, right. Catch you later, then,” Michelle gives us both a big toothy smile and walks away in the opposite direction, clutching her bag and books.
“Carrie,” I say, lowering my voice. “Come with me right now.”
“I really am going your way,” she starts.
I grab tight to her arm and take her around the back way of the visual arts building. The Earnsley campus has lots of wooded areas, trees, lush grounds, places to get lost in. We’re halfway across a field heading to the most remote spot I can think of. She jerks her arm quickly away from my grasp, putting a respectable distance between us.
“If you’re so concerned about us being seen together, Mr. Clark, you shouldn’t be holding onto me,” she says.
I wasn’t holding her tightly, but she’s right. We shouldn’t be touching each other at all. We sneak behind a building where she stops to face me and smiles. Her vibrant red hair pops against the grey sky in a way that makes me wish I had my camera but I’m too pissed to linger on that thought for too long. After a moment, she moves forward and reaches for the collar of my wool coat.
“Carrie, no,” I snap, taking a big step back. My boots crunch on the dead leaves and twigs on the ground.
“What, you’re mad at me?” she breathes. “I thought you wanted to come back here and...”
“Please be quiet. For the love of God, please be quiet,” I say, keeping distance between us. She flashes her perfect smile again, unphased by how stressed out I am.
“I’ve been thinking about kissing you all week,” she says breathlessly. “That’s the honest truth.”
I feel a gripping in my chest at those words. I ache to let her know I return those feelings. She’s all I’ve been thinking about. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. But I have to be sensible.
“Listen to me right now,” I say sternly. I want to make sure she understands that this can’t continue. “We are both guilty here, but I am much more than you because I’m your teacher. We gave in to something that we never should have given in to.”
Good. That’s right, Adam. Keep forming the correct words with your mouth and saying the right things in this moment. Don’t tell her that every inch of your body is on fire with lust, that you want to write about her and take pictures of her and run away with her and you think she could be the great muse of your life.
“Oh, don’t give me that,” she says. She takes a cigarette out of her jacket and lights it, inhaling deeply before letting out a large plume of smoke over her head. That could be another photo. I shake my stare and start again.
“Carrie, I don’t think you understand the gravity of what we’re involved in here. And, you know, if you want to be a star as much as you say you do, you really shouldn’t smoke. It’s terrible for you.”
She laughs before offering me the yellow pack of American Spirits.
“You’re full of important advice today, aren’t you?” she says, with a little wink.
“God damn it,” I take a cigarette from her, sliding it out of the pack. I had no intention of doing so, but it’ll calm me down. She lights it for me.
“I’m not a kid,” she says. “I can keep quiet.”
Right. You know the only people who ever say things like that? Kids.
“Do you understand that I could lose my job? And be blacklisted from teaching anywhere else, most likely.”
“And I could lose my scholarship,” she says, taking another drag off her cigarette.
That’s not true. She’d get a slap on the wrist, if that. But sure, let her think she has something to lose, too. Because she thinks she’s invincible. How could she not, she’s twenty years old. All twenty year olds think that. Carrie walks over to me, her red dress swaying. She pushes me up against the stone wall without warning and I don’t resist.
“Like I said, I’ve been thinking about you all week,” she says again.
My eyes lock with hers. I don’t say anything, but I don’t need to. She can see in my eyes that I’m burning for her just as much. She touches my face with her hand and I melt into her. She puts her face close to my ear and I can feel her breath warm on my neck. This is way too intimate, I know I should push her away, but I can’t.
“I know you want me,” she whispers. The sound of her voice makes my body respond. “Neither of us wants to be reprimanded. What are you going to do? Run to the head of the department and tell them you’re fucking a student? What purpose does that serve? And if bragging rights are all I’m after, I could start a rumor that gets you fired and me reprimanded, why would I want to do that? I have enough to brag about at this school.”
Certainly a modest young woman. One thing she said sticks in my mind and I can’t let it go.
“Carrie, we’re not fucking,” I correct her. Our eyes lock.
She stubs out her cigarette and takes mine out of my hand, dropping it on the ground. She puts it out with her foot before leading me further out of sight, into a stone grotto behind the President’s house. She slides her scarf off her neck revealing ample cleavage beneath the V neck of her dress, her breasts are full and firm. I can smell her skin, and I’m close enough to notice a beauty mark above her right breast. And finally, she does what I’ve been thinking about nonstop ever since that night in the dark room. She puts her beautiful lips to mine, she kisses me full on the mouth in the privacy of the grotto and I make the choice not to push her away.
Our tongues intertwine slowly, this kiss is less frenzied than our first kiss, deeper. I cup her face in my hands and her cheeks are cold, but just as soft as I’d imagined. It’s much warmer in the grotto, shielded completely from the morning wind. My hands fall to my sides and I begin to tentatively hold her around the waist. She fits so effortlessly against me as we keep kissing, leaning into my embrace. I don’t know why I’m not putting a stop to this. Chemistry is a funny thing. In our liplock it doesn’t matter at all how old she is, or that I’m her teacher, or that my job is at stake. There’s just heat and wanting that creates more heat and wanting, and before I know it I’m pressing her tight into my body, holding her close. Her lips move to my neck, impassioned, before returning to my mouth. In the heat of the kiss, I suddenly realize she’s worked her hands over my chest, under the collar of my wool coat. Her fingers feel good on me, but she begins to slowly work them down under my coat attempting to unbutton it with her fast fingers. This snaps me to attention.
‘No,” I say, holding her hands fast and steady.
“What?” she breathes with a big smile, her eyes wet and big, glancing from my face to my waist.
I can smell the heat of her and my mouth waters. There’s a logical part of my brain that’s screaming how insane this is, but she’s so gorgeous and sexy and my mind is racing and she feels so good on me.
“Please,” I say. I take both of her wrists in my hands. “We’re not going any further right now, not like this.”
“Like how, then?” she starts swaying slightly in my arms, both of us ignoring the fact that we’re pressing our hips into each other. I’m grateful for the thickness of my coat.
This is not what I should be saying. I should say we can’t do this anymore at all. I never should have let it begin, or let her lead me into this grotto, or kissed her again. But I’m too drawn to her to stop it.
“Come out with me tonight,” I say before I realize what words are coming out of my mouth.
“I’d come with you anywhere, handsome,” she says sincerely.
<
br /> “You want to, I don’t know, hang out? I live in Brooklyn. I want to get to know you, you know, away from here.”
She steps back and smiles, holding both my hands at arm’s length. Wisps of red hair dance over her face. I want to push her hair out of the way with my fingers, just to have an excuse to touch her again.
“I’d love to. Meet me at the train station tonight? Maybe the seven pm? It’s less busy then after the evening rush.”
Well, she has this all figured out, doesn’t she? Her lips on mine again serve as my confirmation to meet her. It wasn’t passionate at first, just giddy. But since it’s the two of us, it turns quickly to passionate and frenzied.
“No, stop,” she says, her breath catching deliciously as we get into our kiss again. ”Please. Don’t get me all wet right now. I have to get going soon.”
I feel a rush of excitement at her words. I feel like I’m in college again when she says that, like I’m grabbing a quickie makeout session with my girlfriend in the student lounge on the top floor of the deli. God knows how many times I’ve fooled around on that couch. Granted, it’s only been a handful of years since I was in college. My mind lingers on how she said she was wet so nonchalantly, without any embarrassment. It makes my insides stir with want.
“See you later,” she whispers, kissing me on the cheek. She tightens the belt on her coat and books it across the lawn.
I watch her go, her figure getting smaller and smaller, her dark clothes striking a stark difference between the green patches of lawn and the chocolate brown of the earth. Once she’s halfway across the field, I start laughing to myself, shaking my head. God, I must be a complete idiot. What the fuck am I doing? Meet her at the train station at seven? What the hell is this, Casablanca? I lean my full weight against the wall then, trying to wrap my head around what just happened. I rationalize it. She is of age, we’re both consenting, we’re not doing anything illegal. We’re only a few years apart and we’re attracted to each other. That’s it. I keep rationalizing to myself before the thought of touching her more has me stiff and harder than I was before. I wonder what she looks like when she’s in the throes of pleasure. I wonder how many times I could make her come. Does she look as incredible completely naked as she does clothed, or even better? How could she not? This girl is making me insane. Jesus, what time is it? I check my watch and book it to my office, anything but calmer than before.