Thirst

by Mia Ford

  But even that seemed like thinking too far ahead. I didn’t want a boyfriend. I didn’t want anyone but Jackson. When I closed my eyes, I saw us writhing around on the bed, moaning loudly and thrusting our bodies together. I saw Jackson slipping his fingers down my breasts, pinching my nipples, making me come harder than I’d ever thought possible. Sex had been like nothing I’d imagined it would be – it had been so personal, so intense.

  For a moment, I’d actually thought that Jackson was enjoying himself, too. Don’t be stupid, I told myself. Obviously, he couldn’t have liked it that much. He has sex all the time – why the hell do you think you were anything special?

  It was with relief that I checked my bank account and saw three commas there, separating the numbers. I’d never had so much money before. I wanted to call Mom and tell her that things had worked out, but first, I wanted some time alone. I wanted to take a bath and try to forget all about Jackson Rhodes.

  I thought it would feel better knowing that I was never going to see him again. But all I could feel was sadness, emptiness. Like I’d somehow ruined the best thing that had ever happened to me.

  When the train pulled into the station, it was almost dark. I grabbed my bag from the overhead racks and lugged it down the steps. I hadn’t thought to call ahead and ask Alexa if she could pick me up. Now, it was bitterly cold and I hated the thought of standing by the parking lot, waiting for a ride back to my apartment.

  “Belle?”

  I turned around.

  Jackson was standing there, an enormous bouquet of lilies and roses in his arms.

  My jaw dropped.

  “Belle?” Jackson stepped closer. His grey eyes were narrowed with concern, and I saw that he was sweating.

  “What?” I frowned. “What are you doing here?”

  Jackson sighed. “You left before I could wake up,” he said. He smirked. “Did you know that it’s a shorter drive up here? Well, as long as you speed.”

  A lump was forming in my throat and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him.

  “Jackson…what are you doing here? What do you want?”

  Jackson licked his lips. “I…. I realized something, Belle.”

  I sighed. “If you’re going to humiliate me, just— “

  “No,” Jackson said sharply. “Let me finish, okay?” He sighed and I gnawed nervously at my lip as I waited for him to continue.

  “I can’t,” I said softly. “I can’t let you do this – I can’t let you break my heart again, Jackson.”

  “That’s not what I want to do,” Jackson said firmly. He pressed the flowers into my arm and grabbed my suitcase with one hand. The winter winds whipped around us but I could no longer feel anything resembling a chill.

  “Then what?” I stared at him expectantly.

  “Being with you…Spending time with you, Belle, has really made me think about my situation,” Jackson said hoarsely. “I was horrible before. I was a miser – I was cruel, and I know I shouldn’t have ever considered not giving your mom any money.”

  My heart sank. “So this is about my mom?”

  “No!” Jackson dropped down to one knee. “Belle, this is about you. This is about us. I love you, Belle. I’m so sorry for all of the times I treated you badly. I’m sorry for saying everything and for hurting you. I never thought I could love anyone, Belle, but when I woke up and saw that you were gone…” His voice was choked with genuine emotion. “It hurt so much.”

  I swallowed hard.

  “And I’ve fallen in love with you, your kindness, your goodness...” Jackson trailed off. “Your willingness to do anything for your family. I’ve never seen that before. I never even thought people like that existed.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But they do. You do, Belle. You’re too good to be real.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” I said softly.

  “Say you’ll be with me.” Jackson pulled a box out of his pocket and I gasped. Just as I was about to slap his hand away, he grinned. “This isn’t a ring,” he said, opening the familiar, robin’s egg blue box. Inside, a sparkling diamond bracelet was sitting on a pad of velvet. “This is a present for you. I want you to be able to look down and see how much I love you, even when we’re apart.”

  The tears began to drip down my cheeks and I blushed as I tried frantically to wipe them away. My heart was beating like a drum and I had no idea what to say or do. Finally, Jackson climbed to his feet and pulled me into his arms.

  “I love you, Belle,” Jackson whispered huskily into my ear. “And I want to be with you forever. Being around you has changed me.”

  I stared at him. “I…. I don’t know what to say,” I said softly. My breath was coming in rapid little bursts and for a horrible moment, I thought I was going to hyperventilate.

  “Say what you feel,” Jackson said slowly. He looked into my eyes and I shivered.

  “I love you,” I said softly. “I love you, Jackson Rhodes.”

  As our lips met, I melted against Jackson’s body and threw my arms around his neck. He pulled me close, crushing the flowers between us. But I didn’t even care – I knew that I had something better in my arms. Somehow, my love had changed Jackson…and somehow, that made things even better than they would have been if he’d always been kind and willing to love.

  “I love you so much,” Jackson said quietly. “Thank you for showing me how, Belle.”

  I blushed softly as he kissed my cheek. “My pleasure,” I whispered huskily. “I love you, too.”

  Jackson smirked his trademark smirk. “Come on,” he said playfully, linking his arm through mine. “Let’s go get warm.”

  I raised my eyebrows and blushed. “I’m still sore from last night,” I whispered softly.

  Jackson grinned and I blushed even harder. “Trust me,” he said, winking. “I’ll make you all better as soon as we’re alone.”

  As we left the Alfred train station together, I knew that I’d finally found what I’d always wanted.

  BOOK 4: TEACH ME, PROFESSOR

  Chapter 1.

  Freshmen and upperclassmen alike scurried along the tree-lined street that ran through the campus separating the on-campus dorms from the campus buildings where classes were held. Girls wore skirts and dresses; guys wore shorts and short-sleeves as everyone attempted to enjoy the last warm days of a summer past before the cool temperature drop of autumn set in. Although we no longer lived in the on-campus dorms, we had a lot of friends who did and on a small campus like Greenville University, one was more likely to run into a familiar face than not. Today was a hot beautiful day for the first day of classes and it set the tone for a great semester. Since my best friend, Gemma, and I were now sharing an off-campus apartment together, we had decided to walk to campus together although we would be parting ways soon to go to separate classes in different buildings. Gemma and I were both enrolled in the Education Program which came with its own required core classes in addition to the ones that the university mandated and the classes for our chosen majors. I was an Art major and Gemma was an English major. Art had always been my favorite class in school and ever since I was a little girl, I had always wanted to be a teacher.

  A cool breeze gently caressed my face and bare legs. I wore a yellow floral off the shoulder dress that was fitted over my small breasts and flat stomach then fanned out over my round hips and bubble butt. It came down just above my knees, showing off my summer tan and toned calves. I wore a pair of pink sandals with bows on them that matched the flowers on my dress, the headband in my hair and my nail polish. My long blonde curls blew softly in the wind. It felt good to be on campus, and I was all smiles even though I had been here all summer finishing up my general core classes. When we reached the building where Gemma's class was, we stopped walking.

  "So, I'll meet you after class at our usual spot?" Gemma asked me.

  "Yea," I answered with a smile.

  Gemma returned the smile before saying "ok, see you soon!"

  She gave a small wave with he
r manicured hand and headed into the building with all the other students who had 9 o'clock classes. I watched her walk into the building before I started walking again. My class was held in the building right beside hers. I could feel excited butterflies fluttering in my stomach as I neared the creative arts building. My first class of the semester was Figure Drawing 101. This class intrigued me the most because I had heard that we would be drawing real live nude models. I bit my lip at the thought, hoping that they would be hot. The class was held on the fourth floor so I would have to take the elevator. Luckily, I got to board and ride the elevator alone because I’ve always hated how awkward sharing an elevator with other people can be.

  My sandals slapped against the linoleum floor as I got off the elevator and began walking the halls in search of my class. I was looking for room 402. I passed 400, then 401, and when I reached 402, the door was closed. I pulled the door open and walked in. What I saw when I entered that class room made me choke on my spit and I had to immediately step back out so that no one in the class could see me sputtering and struggling to breathe like an idiot. I could feel my face heating up and knew that it was all red and flushed. With one hand, I searched my bag for my water bottle. Once I found it, I hurriedly twisted it open and drank until I could breathe normally. I returned the water to my bag and wiped my face. My eyes had started tearing up and I felt like a hot mess! I fanned my face and tried to calm down. Clearly, I was not as mentally prepared for this as I had otherwise thought. Again, I grabbed the door handle and took a deep breath before pulling open the door and stepping inside the large, high-ceilinged room. There were stools and drawing tables arranged in a letter 'C.' Perched upon a stool in the heart of the 'C' was a Greek God of a man, naked wearing nothing but a towel. Facing the door, a chalkboard on wheels sitting at the opening of the 'C' read:

  I am your professor and model Professor Moore. Welcome to Figure Drawing 101!

  Please have a seat anywhere and begin sketching.

  I took a good look at this mature Thor poised like the Thinking Man atop a stool and wondered if he used to play football because he was built like a retired line-backer. With all those muscles, he looked as though he were made of stone, but also like he gave the best hugs. I imagined those strong arms wrapped around me and a shiver ran through my body. I had to shake the thought from my mind. I circled behind the easels keeping my eyes trained on him trying to find his best angle and didn't stop until I was facing his back. And what a glorious and strong back it was! He had broad shoulders and this sexy dip where his spine was. His back slimmed at the waist and just below, a glimpse of his crack peeked out from under his towel. From the looks of it, he had a great ass. I wanted nothing more than to hug him from behind. My arms would wrap tight around his waist and I'd rest my face upon his back. I closed my eyes and imagined going to sleep like that, a smile spreading across my face.

  I opened my eyes and as I sat on my stool, I wondered if a picture would be inappropriate. Ok, I knew that a picture would be inappropriate but I wanted one anyway. I mean, how often is there a naked God with a perfect back sitting before you as though on a platter? Never, that's how often and I wanted a keepsake for my private collection for private moments with my private parts. I took my phone out of my pocket and acted like I was reaching in my bag for my sketch pad, but really, I was scoping the scene to see if anyone was watching. There were only three other students in the classroom at the time and these three had already begun sketching, albeit they had all decided to sketch him from the front and were thus facing me.

  At that moment, I realized what a creep I was being. From the fact that I was facing his ass to the fact that I wanted to sneak a picture of said ass, I was totally being a creep. But even as I admitted the creepiness of the situation to myself, I still proceeded to pretend to take a selfie whilst taking a barrage of silent pictures of Professor Moore's back.

  Once I was satisfied with my pictures, I put away my phone and finally opened my sketch pad. Now, more students were arriving and taking seats on stools. I took out a pencil and began sketching. After putting in some time and work, the sketch was coming along nicely. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that I had a beautiful subject. As my sketch got closer to completion, my mind began to wander and I quickly realized that pictures of his back alone were not enough. I needed more.

  I quickly scanned the classroom. Everyone else was still sketching, but I noticed an empty stool and easel facing him. I bit my lip in contemplation, realizing why it was empty: it sat directly in his line of vision! How was I going to take a candid picture of someone who was looking directly at me? The yearning between my legs told me that I'd figure it out and urged me to gather my things and stand up. Quickly and quietly, I made my way around the perimeter of stools until I arrived at the empty one and sat down. I took my sketchbook and pencil back out and tried to sketch, but it was hard to concentrate with how intensely Professor Moore was staring at me. I felt myself blushing and going hot all over. This was the hot seat! Every time I looked up, our eyes met. It was going to be impossible to get a picture without him knowing, I thought as I drew.

  Then a voice inside of me whispered "I want him to know." The thought threw me off and made me freeze with anticipation, yet my hand twitched in the direction of my phone. What the fuck was I considering right now? I tried to shake the thought away and focus on my drawing, which was coming out even better than the first one, might I add! Every time I’d look up, we'd lock eyes and more fuel was thrown on the fire inside that made my body glow. The artist in me wanted to capture the intensity of his gaze on paper and I tried my hardest despite the puddle forming between my legs. I opened and closed my legs in an attempt to bring down the temperature between them but, to no avail. When my legs parted, I noticed his eyes shift ever so slightly downward. It was so fast that I wondered if I was imagining it, but then I noticed a flush of red spread over his chest and neck. He was blushing! Why would he be blushing unless.

  Just then, he sat up so abruptly that it made me jump and drop my pencil.

  "Alright class, that's a wrap!" He boomed in a smooth baritone. Maybe he was just checking the time on his wristwatch, I thought to myself. But I didn’t believe that. Professor Moore had tried to get a glimpse of my pussy! He stretched revealing the full expanse of his body. My eyes travelled up from the tips of the V that extended upward from under his towel, to a neat happy trail that led to his taut belly button. The stretch showed off his long torso and washboard abs that were covered in cute freckles. He had little pink nipples and a small patch of thin curly hair on his chest. His arms reminded me of thick ropes. The kind that could secure a massive ship to a dock.

  Before I could think about it or stop myself, I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture of him stretching. Then, just as quickly, I put my phone away and made sure that no one had seen me. No one had except for Professor Moore and he stared at me before addressing the class.

  "On Wednesday, we'll review and critique your sketches. That's all for today. Enjoy the rest of your day!" He said with a clap of his big hands, dismissing the class. You know what they say about big hands? Well, you know what I say about big hands? A man with big hands carries a big...

  I hauled ass out of that class so fast that you'd think my panties were on fire and they might as well have been with all the heat that was generating between my legs. I made a beeline for the women's bathroom and locked myself in the handicapped stall. I had to get out of these wet panties. I peeled off the wet lace and thought about tossing them in the trash versus carrying them around in my bag, but then had a better idea. That same voice from earlier thought that I could put my pink lace thong to better use. I smiled deviously as I unlocked the stall door and exited the bathroom, the panties balled up in my hand.

  I caught the elevator downstairs, but this time, I wasn't alone; the elevator was full. I couldn't help smiling at the fact that unbeknownst to the other people on this elevator, I had a pair of wet panties in my h
and and none under my dress. It gave me a rush! I didn't know what had come over me, but if the rest of the semester was anything like this morning, then I was ready for it! The first floor held the creative arts professor’s offices. I marched with purpose in search of Professor Moore's office. The professor's names were printed on their mailboxes. When I found Professor Moore's mailbox, beside his office door, I calmly opened it and dropped my panties inside before turning on my heels to leave. I walked out of the building with a sense of accomplishment feeling very womanly and powerful. I headed across the campus lawn to a secluded bench under a shady tree. There, Gemma was impatiently waiting for me.

  "What took you so long teacher’s pet?" She greeted me. I smiled. Little did she know. I didn't answer, I just shrugged as I sat down beside her on the bench and casually crossed one leg over the other. Warm wind blew up my dress and I could feel the moving air on the bare lips of my bald pussy. My smile grew.

  "So how was your first class of the semester?" I asked Gemma pleasantly. I wasn't even listening when she went on to tell me; I was lost in a fantasy. I imagined Professor Moore strolling across the lawn wearing nothing but that towel, his eyes on me with every step. I'd spread my legs for him like a blossoming flower as he dropped down to his knees and...

  "I have to head back to the apartment! I left a book that I need for my next class!" I suddenly exclaimed springing up from my seat and interrupting Gemma in mid-sentence. Gemma looked at me sceptically but she couldn't even begin to understand what was going on with me. Before she could respond, I gathered my things, ready to go.