by Claire Adams
“Are you okay?” he asked gently.
“Yes,” I nodded. “It’s just that…”
“Yes?”
“I’m a little nervous,” I said. “It’s extremely vulnerable to be so…exposed in front of someone.”
Chance nodded thoughtfully. Then he took a step back as though I had told him I wanted space. I was about to reach out and pull him back to me when he removed his shirt in one smooth move. His body looked like it had been sculpted from stone. His chest was hard and firm, his abs were flat and deeply ridged, and his arms were perfectly toned.
Slowly and deliberately, he started to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. I waited breathlessly as he pushed down his pants. He kicked them away and stood before me, completely naked and completely vulnerable.
Except that there was nothing remotely vulnerable about him. His expression was fixed, proud, and confident. I had never been more attracted to a man in my entire life.
My eyes ravaged his body, taking in every contour and muscle until I reached his penis. It was long, beautifully shaped, and already semi-hard. I didn’t have experience, but even I could tell that he was a beautiful and impressive man.
He walked over to me and touched my bare shoulders. “Now you’re not the only one who’s vulnerable.”
I smiled. “You don’t look vulnerable to me.”
As I was talking, he pushed the dress off me, and I gasped a little as cool air rushed around my breasts. I moved my hands up instinctively to try and hide myself, but Chance took my hands and pulled them to my sides.
“You don’t have to hide,” he said. “You’re beautiful.”
I looked up at him and decided to focus on his eyes. They were soft and warm and such a brilliant summer hazel that I felt comforted and safe. I felt his hand on the small of my back as he pulled me towards him. Slowly, he teased my panties down until I was as naked as he was.
“Are you still scared?” he wanted to know.
“A little,” I admitted.
He came forward, forcing me to move backward until we had reached the bed. Then he held me tight and placed me gently on the covers. He stood over me, watching my body with an admiring gaze. After a moment, he knelt down between my legs and parted them slowly.
I took a sharp intake of breath as I felt his tongue between my legs. It was an unusual feeling that I tensed immediately, but his movements were slow, and his touch was gentle; after a few short minutes I found myself relaxing, despite the quiet thud of my heartbeat. Slowly, my body started to respond, and I realized that he had succeeded in arousing me. In fact, I started to feel moisture pool between my legs and the tingle I had felt at my fingertips started to spread to the rest of my body.
I had never felt such intense emotions before. It was like my body was had come alive all of a sudden, and I realized that this was my introduction to my own sexuality. I could feel the need and the want, but it was coursing through on a tide of desire. I had always thought of desire as a dull emotion plagued with longing. But now I realized it could also be a burst of heat that made you feel powerful, desperate, and satisfied all at the same time.
Slowly, Chance pushed himself upwards. He kissed the insides of my thighs, then my stomach, until he reached my breasts. He circled them slowly with one hand, letting his fingers linger on my nipples. I felt my back arch as my hands reached for him, hoping to draw him closer to me. There was an ache between my legs, and I knew I was aching for him.
I wanted to feel him inside me. I wanted to feel his chest pressed down against mine. I wanted to feel his tongue in my mouth. I gasped as I felt his tongue come down over my left nipple. He sucked gently until I was grabbing fistfuls of the bedspread, trying to control the scream rising to the surface.
After a few minutes, he moved further up until, finally, his lips found mine. I was so delirious with want that I practically slammed my lips into his. This kiss was not like the first one. There was nothing chaste or innocent about it. It was full throttle, it was brash and violent and urgent, and I could feel my lips on fire from the assault.
Still, he hadn’t entered me yet, and far from being nervous, I was actually impatient. He kissed me gently around the neck, however, as though he were waiting for a signal.
“I want you,” I whispered to him. My voice sounded like it was starved and desperate. “I want you now.”
“Are you sure you want me to be your first?” Chance asked.
His perfect face hung over mine, and I had never been so sure of anything in my life. “Yes,” I said breathlessly. “I’m sure.”
“Why?”
I could barely think straight, let alone frame a coherent answer, so I just said the first single truth that popped into my head. “You were my first kiss, and I don’t regret that.”
He pushed himself up on his hands and looked down at me with raised eyebrows and a shocked look on his face. “I was your first kiss?”
I nodded slowly.
For a moment, I thought he might pull away, but then I felt his penis between my legs and a thrill of expectation overtook me. Gently, he placed himself carefully, and then he pushed himself inside me. I gasped out loud as the new sensation engulfed me. It was confronting and brilliant and painful all at the same time. But the pain wore off after a moment, and I was left with intensity and passion and more burning desire.
“Am I hurting you?” Chance asked.
“No,” I said, closing my eyes as I felt him move deeper inside me. “No.”
I was so wet that he could move inside me easily. I could hear the sound of our bodies making contact, the carnal confronting sound that two bodies make when flesh meets flesh. He was moving slowly, easing me into this new and amazing experience. He was trying to relax me, but he didn’t need to. He already had me. I was putty in his hands, and I was shocked he hadn’t already seen that.
“Does this feel good?” he asked.
“Yes,” I gasped. It was hard to talk when I was trying so hard not to scream. “Yes.”
“I want to make you cum,” he whispered into my ear. “This is your first time… I want to make it special.”
“Make me cum,” I groaned, digging my fingers into his back.
Chance kissed me for a moment before his strokes started getting harder and deeper. As the tempo of his thrusts grew increasingly more vigorous, I gasped in shock. I could hear the sound of his pelvis slamming into mine, and I realized I could no longer contain my screams. I dug my fingernails deeper into his back and clung as he fucked me.
The sensation of cumming was nothing like I’d experienced before. It was like an avalanche. At first, it was a slow build, but then it picked up steam and grew increasingly more intense until it had taken out everything in its path. I breathed deeply, trying to get my bearings. All I could hear was the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears. Another part of me registered Chance’s weight, resting lightly on top of me.
I was still clinging to him, and it felt to me as though I was still wet down there. After a moment, he rolled off so that he was lying next to me. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, and I couldn’t help turning towards him and putting my hand against his heart.
“Well… how was that for a first-time experience?” he asked, once we’d both got a chance to catch our breath.
I smiled. “It was…orgasmic.”
Chance laughed and tucked me under one arm. But I was not ready to lie back and relax just yet. I was still hungry for him, and I was starting to realize that this wasn’t nearly enough for me.
“Fuck me again,” I said, leaning in and whispering in his ear.
He laughed. “Again?”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to have to let me recharge my batteries first,” he said.
“How long do you need?” I asked.
Chance smiled. “Ten minutes.”
“I can wait ten minutes,” I said happily as I lay back in his arms.
Chapter Eighteen
Chance
“Professor Stiller,” I nodded, in reply. “Good morning.”
“Has the copier been fixed?”
“Last evening,” I nodded.
“Thank goodness,” he replied. “I hated having to walk to the library to get my copies sorted out.”
Professor Derek Stiller was a large, balding man in his early sixties. He had been teaching at the university for thirty years now and had achieved tenure a couple of years ago. He was a well-respected lecturer and researcher in academic circles, but he was also known as a stickler for rules around the staff water cooler.
“I didn’t see you at the departmental meeting yesterday?” Derek said.
“Uh… I had papers to grade.”
“You could have always completed them after the meeting,” he pointed out. “These meetings are important, Chance. I’ve never missed one.”
I’ll bet, I thought to myself, hoping that the professor would get distracted with his copies and leave me alone. “I was falling behind on my research, too,” I said. “I just needed to get on top of things again.”
“Hmm,” he replied with obvious disapproval. “Staff reviews are coming up, too; attending the meetings will give you a leg up.”
“My contract only lasts through this year.”
“Meaning what? You don’t care about your reviews?”
“No, of course not,” I said quickly. “I just meant—”
Thankfully, at that moment the copier let out a shrill beep and drew our attention. “Is something wrong with it again?” Derek asked.
“No, it was my mistake,” I said.
“How are you finding your classes?”
“They’re interesting,” I nodded. “And the students are more interested than I would have anticipated.”
“How many students enrolled in your course?”
“Around eighty,” I admitted.
“And, how many are you left with now?”
“Close to fifty,” I replied.
“More than thirty dropouts?” Derek said, with raised eyebrows.
“The class is challenging.”
“The mark of a good teacher is to rally his students, whether the course is challenging or not.”
“Damien Parker tried to do just that, and as I heard, he was pulled up in front of the review board for it,” I pointed out.
Derek narrowed his eyes. “Professor Parker was conducting personal tutoring sessions with his students. That’s against university policy.”
“Why should it be?” I asked. “There are lots of teachers who personally tutor their students.”
“But not outside campus grounds,” he pointed. “All tutoring sessions need to be limited to university premises to prove there’s nothing to hide.”
I frowned. “And, what do you think Professor Parker was trying to hide?”
“Any number of things,” Derek replied. “How are we supposed to have transparency if teachers flout university regulation? Dean Mueller has started coming down hard on all and any infractions, and personally, I think he’s right to be so harsh.”
“Does that mean the rumor about Professor Annette Holstein is true?” I asked. “Did she really resign or was she fired?”
Derek pursed his lips up. “She was asked to leave,” he said, at last.
“So, she was fired,” I said bluntly. “What was the reason for her dismissal?”
“Despite what happened, I have the greatest respect for Professor Holstein, and to that end, I will not air her dirty laundry out in public. Suffice it to say that she no longer works at this university.”
“And, you don’t think Dean Mueller is coming down too hard on what some might call minor infractions at best?”
“No, I don’t,” Derek said decidedly. “He’s right to want order and discipline in his school.”
“But this isn’t a school,” I pointed out. “This is a university, and the students that attend are adults. Is there a point in treating everyone here like children?”
“You’re too young to understand the importance of discipline, Chance,” Derek said haughtily. “You are from the generation that was raised without it.”
I was about to come at him with a biting retort when Lindsey walked through the door with a cheerful greeting.
“Good morning, Professor William, Professor Stiller,” she said brightly. “How are you fine gentleman today?”
“Lindsey,” Derek nodded. He gathered up his papers, and after a hasty farewell, he left us to the empty copy room.
“Thank God you appeared when you did,” I told her. “The old bat was driving me crazy.”
“God had nothing to do with it,” Lindsey retorted. “I was standing at the door listening to that little argument. I just figured I’d stop you from saying something you might regret later.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’s an old prude.”
“He’s not as prudish as he seems,” Lindsey said pointedly. “In any case, you need to be careful around him. Stiller’s a tenured professor at this university, in addition to which he has Mueller’s ear. One word from him and Mueller will send you packing.”
“And, I’d be heartbroken, naturally,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“You act like this job is not important to you.”
“It is,” I said. “It’s just that… I’m not going to kiss anyone’s ass to keep it.”
She shook her head at me. “I must say, that attitude is both misguided and sexy.”
I laughed. “Did you actually have something to copy or you were just eavesdropping?”
“Just eavesdropping,” she admitted calmly. “I was passing by on my way to lunch. Care to join me?”
“Why not,” I nodded, grabbing my papers. “Unless it’s against the rules for teachers to have lunch together, too.”
Lindsey smiled, and we left the copy room together. We found a small café on campus and sat down to a quick lunch before our respective lectures.
“So, anything you want to tell me?” Lindsey asked suddenly, the moment our food had been set down in front of us.
I wrinkled my eyebrows together. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, is there something you would like to tell me…anything specific?”
“Um, no.”
“Sure?”
I smiled. “Why don’t you tell me what you would like me to say?” I suggested.
“I happened to pass by your office yesterday,” she said. I tensed slightly, knowing instantly where this was going. “And I noticed this cute little brunette leaving your office.”
“She’s a student of mine,” I replied, keeping my tone calm and even.
“Uh-huh?”
“She just needed a consultation,” I replied, with a shrug. “That’s all.”
“You’re a good liar,” Lindsey smiled. “I’ll give you that.”
I frowned. Natalie had visited me yesterday in my office, and even though it wasn’t technically a consultation, we hadn’t done any hanky-panky, either. The most we had shared were a few stolen kisses before she had left my office.
“Are you trying to imply something, Lindsey?” I asked innocently.
She looked to be enjoying herself. “Do you usually open the door for your students?” she asked. “Do you usually watch them walk away with an admiring look on your face?”
“I think you’re reading too much into things,” I said.
“You look different, too, you know,” Lindsey pointed out. “There’s an expression on your face that I haven’t seen before.”
“Exhaustion?”
She rolled her eyes. “No. You look like someone who’s got a juicy secret, and you’re worried someone will figure it out…like I just did.”
“There’s nothing to figure out because I have no secrets,” I said calmly.
“So, there’s nothing going on between you and the brunette?”
“Nothing at all,” I said firmly.
“I see,” Lindsey nodded. “So then am I to assume that you also make it a habit of kissing every student who comes in for a consultation?”
My eyes went wide for a moment, wondering how on earth she knew that. Lindsey’s face broke out into a triumphant smile, and I realized I had just given myself away. She hadn’t seen anything – she was just calling my bluff in an attempt to make me out myself.
“I so knew it.”
“What did you mean about Professor Stiller not being as prudish as he seems?”
“Oh, I just meant that Professor Holier-Than-Thou Stiller likes hot blondes…especially hot blondes who look like me,” Lindsey revealed. “He’s tried to hook up with me a couple of times.”
“Ugh… Aside from the age difference, I don’t see why that’s so scandalous,” I said. “It’s not like there’s a rule that states that professors can’t date one another.”
“That’s not the reason it’s scandalous.”
“No?”
“Stiller is married,” she revealed. “Has been for fourteen years. His wife’s too good for him.”
“Ah.”
Lindsey nodded. “Any more questions about Stiller?”
“Uh…no.”
“Good, now back to you and the brunette.”
I groaned. “Wait, I did have another question about Stiller.”
“Too late,” Lindsey said, cutting me off. “When did this forbidden romance start up?”
I stuttered a little, wondering if I should just keep denying it, but I figured Lindsey had the same secret I did. If anyone could be trusted, it would be her.
“About a week ago,” I admitted.
“And, she’s in one of your classes?”
“Yes.”
“Let me guess… She needed ‘special help’ with macroeconomics?”
I smiled. “No,” I said. “We met at Oasis.”
“Huh?” she asked. “I thought she was one of your students?”
“She is,” I nodded. “And, I had noticed her in class, but when I met her in Oasis… She looked different. I didn’t immediately know who she was. It wasn’t till that Monday during my lecture that I figured it out.”