Biting her lip, she did.
He ran his fingertips up her arms, across her upper chest, each touch leaving fire in its wake. "Your breasts are lovely, a pair of perfect teardrops. If it were up to me, you'd never wear a bra. I'd want to see them sway and jiggle every time you moved."
She couldn't help snorting. "Spoken like someone who never has to worry about black eyes when he goes jogging."
He chuckled. "You have a point. All right, then — bras during athletic activity, only. The rest of the time, you're unbound."
He bent his head, kissing her right nipple. His lips were brands on her skin, heating her through. He opened his mouth, and she felt wetness, warm and slick.
And then he sucked gently, the tip of his tongue teasing the erect flesh. Sparks danced across her skin and shot through her, a direct line to her aching clit.
"Hmm. Gorgeous," he murmured, the vibration tingling along her nerve endings. His mouth moved to her other nipple, recreating the sensation. Her knees unlocked, and this time she moaned.
His mouth continued to suckle and tease her breasts as his clever fingers unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down. She kicked off her shoes and wriggled out of the warm denim. Those fingers returned, slipping under the slightly worn waistband elastic of her panties and playing with her pubic hair. "Wonderful. I'm glad you don't get this taken off," he said, lips moving along her breastbone. "I like a woman to look like a woman, not a Barbie doll."
"Can't afford waxing," she said, arching her hips into his touch. "I'm a scholarship student, remember?"
"Soon to be a gainfully employed technical writer. Promise me you won't wax. Trimming is fine, but don't take it all off. Leave some mystery."
She'd never seen the appeal of Brazilians herself. "I promise."
He sank to his knees, pale eyes gleaming up at her as he pulled down her panties. "Sit on the edge of the bed and spread your legs."
She obeyed, leaning back on her arms and imagining how she must look: wanton, spread and open.
He moved closer, shouldering between her knees and keeping them spread. She could feel puffs of breath along her inner thigh and knew she was soaked, fluid trickling down into the crease of her ass.
He gazed at her in undisguised hunger. "Just as I thought," he said. "A lovely pink quim, and already so wet for me. I'm going to taste you now, Ellen."
He leaned forward, laying the gentlest of kisses up her thigh, brushing his lips over the delicate curls. She was ready to explode by the time his mouth finally moved between her legs, tongue coming out to lick her so delicately. Another lick, deeper, and then he opened her slick flesh with his chin, mouth closing around her clit and suckling it.
She keened. Alexander Cord was eating her pussy, and loving it from the soft sounds he made as he lapped. He began alternating between soft, deep sucks on her clit and long, luxurious licks, pausing now and then to nibble on her labia or fuck her deeply with his tongue. When she started wiggling, his hands curved around her thighs like restraints, holding her open and still. That restriction added to the tidal wave of pleasure building between her hips, setting her pussy and clit on incandescent fire.
She clutched the duvet in her balled-up fists, staring down at his blond head nodding between her thighs as he ate her out. And wailed when he slid two thick fingers inside her, pressing until he found a spot that set off white stars in her vision.
She threw her head back and moaned, inner muscles now clenching on his fingers as she came. His lips, fingers and tongue worked her mercilessly, keeping her on a knife-edge of ecstasy until she could hear herself begging him to stop.
Only then did he pull back, breathing hard as he stared up at her. "I knew you'd be like this," he said hoarsely. "God, you're perfect."
She struggled to sit up, breathing just as hard. "That was amazing."
"Oh, it gets better. You're going to come a number of times before tomorrow morning, I assure you."
She couldn't believe the needy whine that came out of her throat at that.
He stripped at her feet, quickly taking off his tie, his shirt, unbuckling his belt and pushing down his trousers and underwear as he rose to his feet. She stared at him, still swamped by aftershocks, and thought dazedly that he looked like a Greek statue come to life. Long, lean muscle everywhere, shoulders broader than she expected, a thicket of dark blond hair between firm, rounded pecs, trailing down to his waist and groin. And there, a hard cock pointing at her, dusky red and ribboned with darker veins. And the head—
She blinked, confused. "What..."
He glanced down at himself and smirked. "I'm not circumcised. My parents were English — it's not the standard operation in Europe as it is over here." He reached for her. "Give me your hand."
She did, and he guided her fingers around his cock. It was hot, silky skin over a granite shaft, and the foreskin felt like a soft, finely wrinkled sleeve over the plummy head. "You can play with it, rub it over the head. It feels wonderful."
She took the skin in the O between her forefinger and thumb, rubbing it as he instructed, and was rewarded with a hiss of pleasure. "On the underside, beneath the head. Rub there."
She massaged the spot with her thumb, rubbing circles into it. His cock thickened more, and the foreskin retracted a bit with the swelling. Now she could see the head, rounded and darker than the rest of the shaft, with a fleshy slit at the center. A bead of clear fluid welled up, hanging there.
Pre-cum tasted like anything from tears to disgusting, depending on the person who reported back to her. She looked up into eyes that were dark now from need. His hands were clenched at his sides, not white-knuckled but definitely waiting for her move.
It seemed only fair. She leaned forward, licking up the droplet: salty, with a bit of savor. Not unpleasant at all. She swallowed, then licked her lips and took in the head. He sucked in a harsh breath, and she felt a thrill of excitement at the sound.
The tip of his cock felt warm and firmly spongy between her lips, the foreskin just a thin ridge now at the far end. She licked around it, exploring the fine-grained skin, the curved edge of the corona, and the thin membrane on the underside that she'd rubbed for him. She pointed her tongue and put it into the slit, wiggling slightly. More pre-cum welled up, drops of pleasure that she licked up and swallowed.
"Ellen. Please."
She paused. "Hmm?" And felt him shudder at the vibration.
His voice was strained. "My dear, if you wish to try fellatio later on, believe me, I'll be more than happy to indulge you. But if you keep that wonderful mouth on me for much longer, I'll come in it. And that wasn't the plan for tonight."
She pulled off with a wet pop, wondering what his semen would taste like, how it would be to swallow him as he came. "Sorry."
His laugh was shaky. "You never have to apologize for sucking a man's cock, I assure you. Here, lie back."
He urged her further onto the bed, arranging her so that she was lying lengthways before crawling in next to her. He kissed her again, and she could taste herself in his mouth, salty and tangy with just a hint of sweetness. She wondered if he could taste himself on her tongue.
They explored each other in the dim light from the bedside lamp. She learned that her breasts were exquisitely responsive, and that his suckling could get her right up to the edge of orgasm, but not over. She liked him playing with her ass, squeezing the plump rounds and running his nails over the sensitive crease where cheek met thigh. She even liked it when he kissed her belly, running his lips over and over the low curve of flesh there. When he stuck his tongue in her navel, she giggled. "That tickles."
"Unsurprising." He kissed it instead.
Conversely, she learned that his nipples weren't that sensitive, but he liked to have his balls played with, especially when she stroked the crinkled pelt of dark blond hair and rolled the rounded shapes in the palm of her hand. When her fingertip brushed the strip of smooth skin behind the sac, he made a curious noise and jerked a bit. "That's a bit adv
anced, my dear," he said, sounding strangled.
"I'm sorry. Did it hurt?"
"Not at all. It was just a bit...unexpected. But pleasant." A large, warm hand moved between her legs, and she could hear those wet sounds again as he played with her. "I think you're ready, Ellen."
Ignoring her hammering heartbeat, she nodded.
"All right. First, some protection." He rolled over and rooted in the nightstand, coming back with a foil square. "Unless you prefer to use your own."
"No, that's fine."
"Mm." He tore open the packet, rolling the latex down his shaft. Tossing the torn foil onto the nightstand, he moved over her, nudging her knees apart until he could lie comfortably between them, keeping the bulk of his weight propped up on his bent arms. She felt his sheathed cock nestle against her, warm and throbbing.
"I'm not a proponent of the 'one push' school," he said. "There's no reason why this should cause much pain, unless you have an unusually tough hymen. And from what I could tell, yours isn't. It can stretch, if you're penetrated by a man with self-control." He smiled down at her. "I have excellent self-control, Ellen."
She wished her heart would stop hammering. "Okay."
"Right, then." He shifted down, reaching between their bodies. Something warm and rounded pressed against her clit, slid down, slowly pushing into her. She bit her lip. It didn't hurt, not exactly, but it felt...
Cord stopped. "How does it feel?"
She hesitated. "Would you be insulted if I said weird?"
He laughed, and slid a little further inside her. "No, I suppose that's normal. But no pain?"
"No. Just weird."
"Okay. A little further, then."
He pushed deeper. And now she could feel it, a prickly burn as her muscles and flesh stretched around the intruder. But there was a lurking sort of pleasure under the burn … something that she suspected would grow quickly, if given a chance.
And then she winced. "Ow."
"Your hymen." His eyes grew vague as he concentrated. "Breathe in for me, sweet."
She did, and felt him shift against her. A steady pressure grew inside, pressing against that twinge without causing it to spike again. His arms, bracketing her own, began to tremble lightly from the strain. But he kept up the slow, gentle force without complaint, sliding deeper in increments.
Finally, she could feel his pubic hair pressing against her clit. "I think — yes, that's it," he said, sighing out gustily. "Virgin no more, darling."
She wiggled experimentally around him. The prickly burn had subsided, and now she just felt very full in a way that seemed right. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. And now, Act Two."
He pulled back, then thrust smoothly inside her. There was a flash of that earlier twinge, and then it was gone. It took her a few minutes to catch on, but she learned how to cant her hips, thrusting up against him. The friction was doing wonderful things to her nerve endings, and when he braced himself on one arm and reached down to tease and stroke her clit, she moaned happily.
"Enjoying yourself?" He grinned at her, the sheen of sweat on his face and chest glinting in the soft light.
"Oh, yes."
"Good. Act Three, coming up."
He stepped up his stroke, plunging deeply into her as he strummed her clit mercilessly. She wrapped her legs around his hips for traction, digging her heels into the back of his thighs. It was perfect happiness, pure pleasure, Alex riding thick and hard inside her. A rising note started in her hips, the herald of her oncoming orgasm.
It burst over her like a high wave, an immense pleasure singing along her nerves. She clamped down mindlessly, rocking herself on him as she clung to his upper body.
He shuddered, growing even harder inside her. "Ellen!" And then he stiffened, thrusting into her one last time. "Oh, my God!"
His cry triggered a second, smaller orgasm, shocks of pleasure washing through her. When she finally drifted back to sanity, she realized he was panting, letting his forehead rest on hers as he struggled not to collapse on her. "So wonderful," he breathed. "I knew it."
She couldn't help grinning. "I'm glad one of us did."
"Silly woman. Never should have doubted yourself." He kissed her and pulled out with a gentle grunt, shifting to her side. "I'm sorry, darling, but I don't want to crush you. Do you want to get cleaned up? There's a bathroom through that door."
She wasn't sure she could get off the bed, much less walk across the room. But she was starting to feel sticky as well as achy, and needed to pee. "Sounds good. I'll be right back."
"I'll be waiting."
****
When she got back, he'd disposed of the condom and slipped under the duvet. Solemnly, he lifted one side for her. "Get in, sweet. You'll catch your death of cold out there."
She laughed, enjoying the warm June air on her naked skin. "You just want me in bed with you."
"Guilty as charged."
"Oh, well, in that case." She climbed under the duvet, letting him pull her into his arms and spoon her. As she got comfortable, she noticed the framed picture on the nightstand again. It was Alex with his arm around a small blonde woman. They both looked young. "Is that your sister?"
"Hm? Oh." He paused. "That's my wife, Miranda. Late wife, I should say." His voice was soft but flat, almost toneless.
She stared at the picture, unsure of what to say. "I didn't know you were married."
"Not many people do. She died about thirteen years ago, when I first came here. Does it bother you?"
"That you were married? No. I'm just sorry—"
His lips were warm on the nape of her neck. "Let's not talk about it. It was a long time ago."
"Oh. Okay."
The room grew quiet, the rustle of the trees outside the window the only sound. She was on the verge of drifting off when Alex said, "I envy him, you know."
"Who?"
"The man you fall in love with. You're intelligent, beautiful, and you have a wonderful life ahead of you. You finally have the time to let someone love you the way you should be loved. Don't settle for the first man who claims to love you. Make sure that whoever he is, he deserves you. He should treasure the fact that he can sleep with you in his arms, the lucky bastard."
She stared into the dark, his words echoing inside her. Don't settle for the first man who claims to love you. Make sure that whoever he is, he deserves you.
The man who loved her wouldn't be Alex, would it? Not the man who kept the world at arm's length, who slept with his dead wife's photograph next to his bed.
The problem was, she had already fallen in love with him. But even after tonight, he wouldn't — couldn't — love her back. And she couldn't even blame him for it.
Goddamn it … Don't cry. Whatever you do, don't cry.
She sat up slowly, disentangling herself from his arms. "It's late. I should go."
"Ellen?"
She stood up, gathering her clothes. "Thank you. It was wonderful." She was thankful for the dark, for the way it hid the stinging in her eyes. "I won't tell anyone, I promise. You're safe."
"I'm — wait, what?"
"I need to get dressed."
She walked quickly into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. Willing herself silent, she stared at her hands curled on the white porcelain of the sink.
Well, what did you expect? He said pleasure, not love. He doesn't love you. He wanted you — that's different.
It doesn't matter that you love him. Just be grateful and go before you look like an even bigger idiot.
Ten minutes and a cold, damp washcloth over her eyes later, she came back out. The bedroom was empty, the bed neatly made. Alex's clothes and glasses were gone.
With no other option, she went downstairs. If he wouldn't give her a ride home, she'd find the nearest convenience store and call Keisha or Dianne for a ride. No, they've been drinking. How much are cabs? It's not that far from campus, maybe a couple of miles. I can walk it if I have to, carry my keys in my hand.
<
br /> She stopped when she entered the dining room and saw Alex sitting at the large table, another glass of wine in front of him. He looked up at her entrance, his face a mask. "You're leaving."
"Yes."
"May I ask why?"
She was too tired and sad to argue. "You said I should find someone. The lucky bastard, remember? I get it. We had fun. Thank you for making my first time—" She stumbled over the word. "—a good one. Now you're done, and it's time for me to go."
He stared at her. "What in the world are you talking about? I never said you had to go."
She fought back the tears. Not now, not in front of him. "But you don't want me. Not really. So there's no reason for me to stay."
"No, I—" He trailed off, looking suddenly exhausted. "Christ. Ellen, I don't want you to leave. If it sounded that way, I'm sorry." He slid his fingers under his glasses, rubbing his eyes. "Sweet girl, I want you to be happy. You have no idea how much I want you, how much I'll treasure tonight. But you shouldn't be with someone like me. Trust me on that."
Someone like me. The loneliness and defeat in his voice caught at her. For thirteen years, he had been wandering around a house that was obviously meant for a family, for a wife and kids filling it with noise and love. There had to be a reason behind it.
She had a choice. She could accept his statement at face value, and walk out the door. Tomorrow she would start apartment hunting, packing up her dorm room, preparing for life after college. And he would become a memory, a living ghost haunting his beautiful red brick Victorian.
Or she could sit down and find out what the hell was going on with Alex Cord.
She moved to the table and pulled out a chair, sitting down. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why shouldn't I be with you? I know there are problems. There's the whole younger woman-older man thing for a start, plus the fact that I was your student. But we can figure out how to deal with that." She offered him a soft half-smile. "I can even put up with you acting like a bit of a dick at times. But that's not what you're talking about, is it?"
Grading the Curve Page 3