by Sky Corgan
Feeling like everything would be okay, I mustered up all of my concentration and blazed through the quiz. Despite the stress that I had been under all week, I felt like I had done pretty well on it. With a satisfied grin, I looked up, preparing to stand and turn my quiz in. That's when our eyes locked, and I thought my cheeks might explode as all the blood from my body rushed to my face.
Damien Reed had the pen under his nose, inhaling my scent, and he was giving me a very knowing gaze. My eyes shot back down to my paper, my body growing heavy, as if my heart was hammering me right into the floor. There was no way he couldn't smell me on the pen. I had been so exhausted that I just wiped it off with a sock before I stuck it on my bedside table and rolled over for sleep.
A few of my classmates passed by my desk to turn their quiz in before I finally mustered up the courage to stand and turn mine in. All the while, I kept my eyes to the floor, refusing to meet Damien's gaze. Whether he was still looking at me or not, I couldn't tell, but I didn't want to know.
Thankfully, class was almost over. Pretending I had to go to the restroom, I gathered my things and headed for the door. Damien would be mad at me for leaving early. He had mentioned on the first day of school that he didn't want us to go to the bathroom right before class was over. I could not have cared less at that moment though. All that mattered was getting away from him—getting away from those eyes.
I spent the rest of the day over-analyzing everything that had happened. With any luck, he'd forget about the pen over the weekend, and things could return to normal.
It turned out that the phone call had been from my aunt letting me know that my mother was being released from the hospital. That was a blessing, at least. No more spending my afternoons at the hospital and then rushing home to cram and do homework afterward.
I sighed in relief as I drove back to my father's house, feeling the overzealous joy that Fridays usually bring. It's funny how much I took them for granted during my break between high school and college. Now, they were all I felt like I had to look forward to.
After going home and changing, I headed back out to meet up with Tanya at a local restaurant. We spent the afternoon talking about how much more intense college was than high school, what classes we were taking, what professors we liked and didn't like, and about all the boys that Tanya wanted to bone. Her list was a mile long. Mine only had one person on it, and he was hardly a boy.
Just thinking of Damien Reed made my cheeks grow warm, and the thought of his intense gaze while he held that stupid pen under his nose made me absolutely hate myself. Why did I have to steal it in the first place? And how could he possibly have known it was his just by looking at it?
“You okay, Chey?” Tanya asked, breaking me from my thoughts.
“Oh. Um, yeah, I'm fine.” I must have been dipping a fry in my ketchup for waaay too long.
“You look out of it.”
“I was just thinking of something that happened today.”
“Ohhh, something juicy? What was it?”
“Not juicy. Embarrassing.” I avoided her gaze, not really wanting to talk about it. We shared everything, but this was a bit too personal.
“Well, now you have to tell me,” Tanya insisted, her almond eyes growing wide with excitement.
“Maybe some other time. I'm not feeling too good,” I lied. “I think I'm going to have this boxed up and head home.”
Her expression quickly changed from curious to concerned. “Alright. Do you need me to get you a barf bag or something?”
“No. I'll be fine. I just . . . need to lie down.” And think of Damien Reed's pen some more. Of how I violated myself with it and he smelled me on it afterward.
Thankfully, Tanya didn't ask anymore questions. Her maternal instincts kicked in and she babied me all the way to my car, insisting that she carry my purse and even asking if I wanted her to drive me home. I wasn't that sick—didn't look that sick. Hell, I wasn't even acting that sick, but I was grateful for her caring nature, none the less.
Once I got home, I buckled down on my studies. It was strange having a house all to myself. I was so used to my mother being around when I got off school. Her job let out at four o'clock, so oftentimes, I only had about thirty minutes to myself every day before she got home. With my father gone on the road, the big house seemed almost too empty.
A good portion of my weekend was spent working on my make-up art project. Since I had more time to finish it than the other students, I decided to go ahead and give it a background. I even created an additional character who was supposed to represent Tanya. The finished product was a manga version of the two of us standing together, winking and throwing the peace sign in the college cafeteria, best friends forever. Hopefully, Damien would like it, though I couldn't blame him for failing me after I had stolen his pen. I still wasn't sure how I was going to face him, but it was unavoidable.
On Monday, I waited until the last possible second to show up to Art Appreciation class. Some bitch had been bold enough to steal my seat, but I knew I should count it as a blessing. The further away I sat from Damien Reed, the better. Maybe if he couldn't see me as well, he wouldn't remember the pen incident. It was a stupid thing to hope for, but sometimes I could be a stupidly hopeful girl.
Class started as usual, with Damien sitting in his chair doing a silent roll call. I kept my eyes on my desk, determined to avoid his gaze, though I could swear that I felt him looking at me, if that was even possible. His lecture began, and I signed in relief. Somehow, I had gotten off scot-free. At least, I thought I had until the end of class when he came up to me and told me he wanted to see me after school. That left a bitter taste in my mouth and a sick churning in my stomach for the rest of the day. Hopefully, he just wanted to talk to me about my grades, though I wasn't naïve enough to believe that. This had to be about that stupid pen. I cursed myself for stealing it, but I couldn't change what I had done. I would have to face the consequences head on, whatever they may be.
The rest of my day was pretty much miserable, thanks to thoughts of impending doom. What was the punishment for stealing a college professor's pen anyway? Maybe he'd kick me out of his class, or worse, try to have me expelled. I went over my apologetic groveling speech in my head until it was committed to memory. I would do whatever it took to get back on his good graces—anything it took.
For the first time ever, I dreaded the ending of the school day. Every minute that ticked down, I wish I could rewind so that I wouldn't have to face Damien Reed. Time didn't stop for me though, and all I could do was pray that he was a compassionate man. His face always looked so hard and serious, yet he had given me extra time to finish my art project. He couldn't possibly be that bad.
When my last class was over, I wanted to take my time returning to Damien's classroom, but I knew better. I already pissed him off by taking his pen. Being late could only make things worse.
When I reached the Art Appreciation classroom, Damien wasn't inside. Taking a queue from the last time I had walked into his unlocked empty classroom, I went straight for his office, knocking gently on the door.
“Come in,” said a stern voice.
Now it was time to put on my Oh God, I'm So Sorry, Don't Expel Me pout. Being cute had its benefits. Hopefully, I could use my feminine wiles to lessen my punishment.
Damien was sitting at his desk, staring up at me with those cold dark eyes. His hands were steepled atop a short stack of papers, that blasted pen sitting parallel in front of them.
“Close the door and have a seat,” he told me without so much as moving a muscle.
I swallowed hard, doing as I was told. Being in the same room alone with him, surrounded by his presence, wiped my mind completely clean of the speech I had so meticulously practiced. Now I was all nerves and fear, afraid to look directly at him, but afraid not to too.
When I was settled, he picked the pen up, holding it between his index fingers so that I could see it from end to end. Shit. I knew this was going to be
about the damned pen.
“Do you know what this is, Miss Grear?” he asked, his voice calm yet serious.
It sounded like a trick question, and I wasn't sure what he was getting at. “It's a pen, sir?”
“This is not just an ordinary pen.” He looked over the pen at me, piercing my soul with his dark gaze. “This is a Montblanc Meisterstuck LeGrand Ballpoint Pen. It has a gold-plated clip and gold-plated rings. If you'll notice, the Montblanc emblem is on the pen in several different places. Each one of these pens has an individual serial number. Do you have any idea how much this pen is worth?”
The knot if my stomach doubled in size. “I have no idea, sir.”
He returned his attention to the pen. “This particular pen is worth a little over four hundred dollars. It was given to me by my father as a graduation present. He always used to tell me that a good teacher should have a good writing instrument.”
I didn't know what to say to that. A few things came to mind, but they were all pretty stupid.
“Stealing is illegal,” he continued, getting to the real reason why I was there. “Did you know that?”
“Yes, sir.” I dropped my eyes to my lap shamefully.
“You didn't just steal this pen though. You did something else to it, didn't you?”
When I looked back up, he was holding the pen under his nose. My cheeks instantly turned into two burning balls of redness. I had been caught, and even if my mouth denied the perversions I had done to his precious graduation gift, my face gave me away completely. I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
“How should I punish you?” He went on, pulling the pen away from his face and rolling it between his index fingers.
“I . . . I'm sorry. Please don't have me expelled,” I begged.
His eyes shot up to mine, as if to tell me to be quiet. “Come here.”
Reluctantly, I stood, taking a few steps around his desk, stopping at the side of it.
He placed the pen down on his desk and rolled his chair to face me. “Closer.”
I took the last few steps around Damien's desk until I was standing in front of him. What he was planning to do, I had no idea. All I knew was that each second was absolutely torturous, waiting for my punishment.
He stood then, taking a step forward until he was dangerously close. I could smell the heavy scent of his cologne, masculine and tantalizing to my senses, intoxicating me. My fear was melting into something else, and I silently chastised myself for allowing my mind to slip into the gutter. He was so close though. Closer than we had ever been before. Closer than any man I had ever lusted after had been to me before. All I would have to do was take another short step forward to close the gap between us, to feel the hard muscle of his chest pressed against me.
By the time I felt his fingertips brush my cheek, my breath was already becoming ragged. My eyes were hooded with lust, and though I was afraid, I dared to look up. The intense gaze that he gave me sent shivers all the way down to my moistening core.
“Should I give you what you really want?” he asked, and before I had a chance to respond, his lips were touching mine, caressing them in a sensual kiss.
I melted into his arms. If this was to be my punishment, then I would pocket that four hundred dollar pen every day of the week. Our mouths moved together in blissful harmony with every affectionate touch reciprocated. Despite his hardened exterior, Damien's kisses were incredibly gentle, just as I had hoped they would be. They ignited my body, setting off sparks in all of my sensitive areas.
Soon, he was pressing me back towards his desk, breaking away from the kiss only long enough to lift me up and place me on top of it. It took everything in me not to grin like an idiot. I couldn't believe this was actually happening. I was making out with my ridiculously sexy professor in his office on school grounds. It was the stuff pornos were made of.
Damien stepped between my legs, pressing his palms against my thighs to hike up my pencil skirt. A tremor of fear raced through me as my body allowed my mind to break away from the fantasy long enough to realize what was actually happening. This was no innocent high school make out session. He fully intended to have sex with me, right on his desk in his office, and I wasn't sure if I was ready for it.
Ever since the first day of school, I had been busy lusting over Damien Reed, but I never really thought about what would happen if I actually got him. It had always been a fantasy to me, innocent, and without consequences. Now, here we were. I was leaning back on his desk as he kissed my breasts over the top of my blouse and hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties. My brain was flashing all sorts of red warning lights, but my body was sending out the opposite signals. I wiggled my hips, allowing him to slip the panties over my bottom and pull them to the floor. The cool air kissed my warm parts, sending a fluttering of sensation through my clit. I wanted to stop, but I couldn't. It was like I was a slave to my own desire, to my want for him.
I laid back, breathless on his desk, watching as he straightened himself. The bulge in his pants was impressive, but the cock that flopped out whenever he unzipped them was even more so. It was absolutely gorgeous, smooth and thick and straight. Some men had curves in their cocks, or girth differences from the base to the tip. Not Damien Reed. God must have been having a really good day when he made this man. There wasn't a centimeter of him that didn't scream pure perfection. At least, every centimeter of him that I had seen.
The crinkling of a condom wrapper sounded almost deafening in the quiet of the office. My breathing provided the only other noise. Damien was cool and calm, barely breaking a sweat as he slid the condom over his meaty length.
I watched him, frozen in fear and lust. In a matter of minutes, this man who I barely knew would be taking my virginity. Was that what I really wanted? I craved his body beyond belief, but we had nothing together. Up until now, I had always been his student, just another sheep in his flock. Had he done this with other girls before? Probably. The thought was unsettling, ruining my mood.
By that time, Damien was on me again. He leaned in for a gentle kiss, melting the worries in my mind away. My cunt pulsed with desire. My legs almost involuntarily spread wider for him. All the while, my mind screamed no.
Damien grabbed the base of his erect member, guiding it toward my warm tunnel. I felt the head press against my pussy, the glans painfully trying to nudge its way inside. The only thing I had put inside of myself up to that point had been tampons and that pen, neither of which were anywhere near as big as a cock.
At the first shudder of searing pain, my breath hitched, and words tumbled from my open mouth. “I'm a virgin.”
Damien's body tensed. For a moment, he just stood there, staring down at our parts.
If Damien Reed had been any other man, the excitement of deflowering a young girl would have spurred him forward. He might have grinned, or asked if I was alright. He might have even thrust forward, bathing in the euphoria of my tight passageway squeezing his wanton manhood. But Damien Reed wasn't any other man.
Almost as quickly as it all began, he was stepping away from me. I watched in stunned silence as he unrolled the condom from his length and tossed it into the garbage bin in the corner of the room. Within seconds, his magnificent erection disappeared back into his jeans, and a thousand negative emotions raced through me at once. I knew what it all meant.
Reluctantly, I scooted off the edge of his desk and bent to pick up my panties, pulling them on and trying to hold back my tears at the same time. I had ruined it. For him. For me. For us. I should have just kept my mouth shut.
For as much as my brain had been screaming at me to stop prior to our potential coupling, it was now chastising me, telling me what an idiot I had been for saying anything at all. Damien Reed was the perfect man, and I had screwed up my chance to have him. Maybe he'd never be my boyfriend, but he was certainly worthy of my virginity. Wasn't he? I wasn't sure anymore. All I knew was that I was miserable.
Not knowing what els
e to do, I slowly made my way for the door. Everything in me wanted to break out in a run, to move as fast as my legs would carry me to my car, to get inside and drive to my mother's house and cry on her shoulder. I was an adult though, and I couldn't act like a child. I had to handle this with some type of poise, or Damien Reed would only dislike me more. Still, I couldn't let it end as it had. I needed to know why he stopped, why he had rejected me.
He was sitting at his desk, staring down at the pen when I made it to the door. With my hand already on the handle, I turned back and said, “Say something.”
He didn't even bother looking up at me. “This never happened. You're dismissed.”
Before I knew it, I was on the other side of the door, and tears were streaming down my face. How could he possibly be so cold? I had been delicate and vulnerable, and all he had done was reject and dismiss me. No, that wasn't a man I wanted to give myself to. It was the right thing that we didn't have sex. But why did it feel so wrong.
Despite my decision not to run back to my car, I found myself walking far faster than necessary, nearly tripping over my own shoes. Tears cascaded down my cheeks, and I sniffled from time to time, drawing attention from people still in the hallway. One woman asked if I was alright, but I just kept walking, pretending to ignore her.
In my car, I broke out into debilitating sobs. I couldn't even remember the last time I cried so hard, shaking until I worried I might have to call Tanya to drive me home. She couldn't know about this though. No one could know about this. If anyone ever found out, Damien could get in big trouble. Maybe he should get in trouble for it though, I thought bitterly. He had seduced a student, after all. Hadn't he? Hadn't he seduced me?
When the tremors subsided and my eyes were clear enough to see, I put my car in drive and pulled out of the parking lot. Even while I drove home, the occasional sob would roll through me. I couldn't figure out what hurt more, being rejected, knowing I had ruined my only chance with Damien, or knowing that I'd have to face him for the rest of the semester. Maybe I would switch to a different elective. I didn't give much of a crap about art anyway. The only reason I took Art Appreciation was because I thought it would be easier than any of my other elective options.