by Lexi Archer
Damn it. This was precisely why I never indulged Brian in his fantasy in the real world. It led to dangerous situations like this.
When I was done I glanced around the room again, waiting for another set of raised hands and a new question. When I glanced over to Michael, still flirting with his girlfriend, he looked up and locked eyes with me. Fixed me with a huge grin that left no doubt in my mind that he was doing all of this on purpose.
It was crazy. Crazy that I felt jealous of a college girl. Crazy that I was jealous of him doting on his girlfriend. Crazy that I wasn’t annoyed for the usual reasons like having someone interrupting my study session.
More than anything, though, I was annoyed that he was ignoring me on purpose. It felt conceited to even think it, but guys didn't ignore me. He had to know what it was doing.
The asshole! Finding an insecurity I didn’t even know I had and exploiting it.
I forced myself back to the people who were actually here to learn something. Did my best to ignore Michael and Chelsea as I went from student to student answering questions. Only it kept distracting me, digging at me, annoying me until I finally snapped. I told myself it was just the same as snapping at any student screwing around in class, but I also knew that was a lie even as the thought crossed my mind.
"Excuse me, Mr. King?"
Michael turned from his girlfriend and fixed me with that smile. That panty-melting smile. That smile that had me weak in the knees in a way that only my husband had ever been able to achieve before.
I wondered how many girls on campus had fallen to that smile over the years. Sure the presence of that Chelsea girl would seem to indicate he was a one-woman sort of guy, but that didn't seem likely in practice considering how he was hitting on me despite said girlfriend. A girlfriend who turned and gave me a panty-melting smile of her own, I might add.
Maybe they had an arrangement similar to what I had with my own husband, though obviously it was a little different if he was the one who was out tomcatting around. Kids these days. Either way, the way he was acting towards me made me think he probably used his fame to get just about any girl he wanted. Maybe with his girlfriend along for the ride. Maybe not. I was annoyed at the prospect of being just another notch on his bedpost even as the thought excited me.
"Can I help you Mrs. Taylor?" he asked, placing extra emphasis on the "Mrs." part of my title.
"Call me Megan," I said.
That response was more of a reflex than anything else at this point, but asking him to call me by my first name when he was pointedly drawing attention to the fact that I was married seemed to have special significance.
"Did you plan on paying attention during this study session, Mr. King? Or were you going to spend the entire time flirting with your girlfriend?"
"It's not like that at all Mrs. Taylor," he said.
I scowled. It appeared he wasn’t going to forgo the Mrs. thing.
Michael gestured to Chelsea who kept up that thousand-watt smile. "She's not doing as well as I am in class, and so I came to this study session to help her out. There couldn't possibly be another reason for me to come to a study session like this, right Mrs. Taylor? I am a straight A student, after all."
Oh this was fucking good. He was playing the game and he was a master, and I'm not talking about the sort of things he did out on the basketball court. None of the other students seemed to notice the very loaded conversation he was holding right under their noses. It made me want to applaud him. Of course I didn't do anything of the sort. Only three people in this room had any idea what was going on under the surface, and I had no intention of bringing the subtext to the surface.
"Be that as it may, Mr. King," I said. Two could play at the formality game. "Everybody came here to study, and I don't want you disrupting that. If your special lady friend has any sort of questions she can ask me, and you can save your one-on-one studying for after in private. Got it?"
The rest of the class giggled. This was far from the first time I’d called out a couple canoodling in one of my study sessions, but this was the first time I didn't feel any sense of satisfaction from doing it. No, more than anything I wanted to be the one who was sitting there canoodling with him. And I wanted to smack myself for even entertaining that thought.
Why couldn't this guy be in someone else's lab, damn it?
Thankfully the rest of the study session went by without any more issues. He continued chatting quietly with Chelsea, but otherwise he was a model of good behavior. They were quiet enough that it didn't bother the rest of the class, though I did see him pointing my way every couple of minutes. He knew he still had my undivided attention even though I was doing my best to answer questions.
Once class was over he came up to the desk as everyone else filed out. I noticed a couple of people giving us odd looks, and for one terrified moment I worried somebody might know something was going on between us. I comforted myself with the knowledge that he was famous enough that they were probably just staring at the twofer of the campus hero and the hottie TA.
"That was a really good study session," he said. "I'm going to have to come to more of these."
He turned and followed his girlfriend with his eyes as she walked out of the room. Damn did she look good. A girl like that with a face like that and a body like she had could probably rock a burlap sack.
"She's fucking hot, isn't she?" Michael asked, turning his attention back to me. From the way his eyes ran up and down my body it was pretty damn clear that his girlfriend wasn't the only person he was talking about.
Well then. If he was going to play games then I was going to play games right back at him.
"I wouldn't know," I said. "All of the younger students look like kids to me these days."
Michael grinned and gave me another once over. "Well in that case, Megan, you must feel like a dirty old woman with the things you think when you look at me!"
My eyes went wide. Had he really just said that? This guy had a pair on him! Then again, something told me that it was entirely justified. That his confidence was born out of a long streak of never striking out.
Well he was about to strike out, though I was tempted to throw myself down on the table and let him have his way with me. Now there would be one hell of a story to tell Brian when I got back from class. Or it’d be a good story if it actually happened, which it wouldn’t. I resisted. I had enough self-control that I wasn't going to let something like that happen, no matter how it caused a fire to burn between my legs thinking about it.
"What exactly did you hope to accomplish by coming to this study session tonight?"
"That should be pretty obvious," he said. "I'm hot for teacher, and I wanted to see teacher getting hot for me!"
"And what would your girlfriend think of that?"
He shook his head and chuckled. "Don't you get it? I already told you she thinks you're pretty hot. She’s going to be more disappointed if you turn me down again."
I couldn't help but blush. Yet at the same time that blush came with a small stab of anger.
"Oh yeah? Then why isn't she over here telling me that herself? It seems awfully convenient that she's never around when you tell me these things."
"Maybe she's shy," he said. "Either way, the point is my girlfriend isn't the problem here. The only problem is you resisting what you obviously want."
"What I obviously want? I'm a married woman. Didn't she notice the ring on my finger? You certainly seemed to notice the “misses” in my name.”
"Oh I noticed the misses in your name and the ring on your finger," he said. "I just figured if it's never bothered me if a girl has a boyfriend, well why should it suddenly bother me if a woman is married? It's a little different, but that just means you're more of a challenge. I like a challenge."
I smiled. A thin, knowing smile. If only he knew just how little of a challenge the whole married thing was. Not that I had any intention of telling him about my husband's fantasies. If he was already acting like
this when he thought I was happily married and a challenge then I couldn't imagine what he’d be like if he found out my husband was turned on by the idea of me with another guy.
To say he’d try to take advantage of that knowledge was probably the understatement of the century.
Only he seemed to take that thin smile as an invitation. Before I realized what was happening he was behind the desk. His arms were wrapped around me and his powerful hands were brushing against my stomach. Something else was brushing against my backside, and rather than turning around and slapping him I found myself backing into that hardness that felt so big. Bigger than my husband, though I felt guilty for thinking that.
Then reality hit me and I looked around the room in a panic. A panic that subsided as I realized the room had cleared out. That didn't stop him from chuckling behind me.
"Don’t worry. I made sure everyone was gone. Wouldn't want to get you in trouble," he muttered.
God. I don't know if it was because this was so forbidden, because of who he was, or because he was so skilled, but I was on fire. I felt more aroused than I had any right to be considering this wasn't my husband. His hands danced up and down my stomach, almost reaching up to cup my breasts, almost moving down in between my legs, but never quite going too far.
I took a deep breath and let it out in a long shudder. This was too much. I was losing control. I was on the verge of flipping around and letting him push me down over the desk and have his way with me.
"Michael…"
His name came out more as a loving sigh than the warning I intended. And he took that sigh for the obvious invitation it was. Permission to go a little farther. His hands moved up and his fingers brushed along the underside of my breasts. My nipples stood out and I started grinding my ass against his cock.
God that felt so good. And I found myself thinking that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I had more than a story to tell Brian for the first time ever. Maybe it wouldn't be the end of the world if I found out what it felt like to run my hands along another man’s cock. Along that dark monster that felt so fucking huge and inviting!
Without thinking I reached down and moved my hands down his stomach. Felt his abs through his tight shirt and damn were they sculpted. Down to the top of his jeans where I could feel his belt. Down to where I could almost feel the top of his cock tenting out against his pants.
A noise came from the entrance. I quickly pulled my hand away from that rock hard monster and wheeled around. Sat down on the desk and pulled a book up.
A moment later the TA for the next study session walked into the room. He stopped for a moment and looked at the two of us, and I prayed it wouldn't be too obvious what was going on. Not that it would be too difficult to figure out something weird was going on. Me sitting here, breathing heavily, a flush on my face, and Michael standing there with his hard on poking out. Though he'd leaned back against the wall and shifted to an angle where it wouldn't be obvious he was sporting one hell of a hard cock.
The other TA continued staring between us for a moment, then grinned. "Working late Megan?"
"You know it," I said. "Now did you have any more questions about covalent bonds, Michael?"
"Not at all, Megan," he said with a smooth smile. He turned and walked out the room, and I made an effort not to stare.
"You naughty girl," the other TA said. I couldn't quite remember his name. He was from the Biology Department. Not someone I worked with on the regular. I jumped at his words. Did he know? Had he seen something? Heard something before he came in? The telltale rustle of clothes? Part of our conversation? How long was he out in the hall before he came in?
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, trying to play it cool.
He shrugged. "Don't think I don't recognize Michael King. Were you trying to get an autograph or something?"
I sighed in relief. The guy thought something was going on, but it wasn't anything like what was actually going on. Relief flooded through me.
"Yeah, something like that," I said. "I should probably get going, though. I'm sure my husband is wondering where I am."
I was going to be running late after that quick dalliance with Michael, and I could only imagine the sort of things running through Brian's mind. I could only imagine how he was going to blow his stack when he heard what actually happened.
8: Waiting Up
The anticipation was killing me tonight. It seemed like anticipation killing me was starting to become a pretty regular thing. It was a good thing someone couldn't actually die from the condition, otherwise I'd be visiting the ER almost every night.
I glanced down at the clock on my phone. Where was Megan? What was taking her so long? Of course my mind was filling in the details of exactly what was happening.
My wife bent over a desk while Michael pulled her pants down from behind and slid his thick cock inside her. My wife down on her knees in a darkened room with her mouth moving up and down his cock. That pretty cheerleader behind my wife eating her out while Michael watched, because of course basketball stars got to watch hot girls doing whatever he wanted them to do to each other. It was one of the perks of being a handsome and muscular basketball star who everybody on campus loved.
I imagined him on top of her on some desk pounding away, her tits bouncing, as she bit her lip and tried her best to not make any noise that would alert the rest of the science building as to exactly what they were doing. I imagined her throwing her head back and screaming so loud that they could even tell what was happening in the English building on the other side of campus.
All those thoughts were swirling through my head. Of course she hadn't been gone long enough for any of that to happen, not unless he was very fast, but still. Just the possibility that something like that was happening had my cock throbbing.
I kept glancing over to the door. I kept thinking I should try to play a video game or read a book or do something to keep my mind off of where my wife was, but I didn't do any of that. No, instead I paced back and forth to the point that I almost thought there should be a worn spot in the carpet by the time I was done.
I glanced at the clock on my phone once more. Only a couple of minutes had passed, though it felt like an eternity. Where the hell was Megan? What was she doing?
Who was she doing?
I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard the door rattling. The familiar sound of Megan's key ring jingled on the other side as she put her key in and turned it. The door swung open and I swung around to face her, a mixture of anticipation, jealousy, and worry on my face.
That worry was something new. I'd never been worried about her being out before. I'd never worried about what she was up to, but I suppose in the past I always knew there wasn't a chance she was actually doing any of the things I always encouraged her to do.
Now that there was a chance she was doing some of that? Well let's just say it was adding a measure of anxiety I never would’ve anticipated. The possibility she might actually be getting up to some of the naughty things I was always encouraging her to do was worrying me almost as much as it drove me wild.
Megan brushed past me without a word. She had a funny look on her face. Almost as though she was angry about something. I blinked. Now that was a different look. Definitely a big change from all the heavy petting that had been going on lately when she got home.
I turned to follow her.
"Is something wrong Megan?"
There was only one thing I could think of that could be wrong. Something had happened tonight. Something that had my wife upset. And I was excited at the idea of something happening even though I was ashamed of that excitement at the same time.
Megan moved into the bedroom and I followed, thinking about how a move into the bedroom had been the start of some pretty hot moments over the past couple of weeks.
"Megan?" I asked, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around and there were tears in her eyes. I took a step back. Now there was one hell of a s
urprise.
"What happened? Did he get handsy with you or something?"
The tears in her eyes turned to anger in a flash. She advanced on me, her finger shooting out and pressing against my chest. I took a step back. I was powerless in the face of that fury even as I wondered what the hell caused it.
"This is all your fault!" she hissed.
I held my hands up. She poked her finger at me again, but this time she didn't make contact. I was surprised at how painful a simple poke in the chest could be.
"What's my fault? What are you talking about?"
"If you hadn't put these ridiculous fantasies in my head…"
Her face colored and she looked away even as I found myself even more intrigued. If I hadn't put these fantasies in her head? What the hell happened tonight? My cock was throbbing, but I also knew that giving into some of the desires I felt as a result of thinking with the little head could be potentially disastrous, so I kept my cool. I kept my hands up.
"Megan, what are you talking about?"
"You put these ideas in my head in the first place," she whispered. She took a step back, the fight draining out of her. The back of her legs hit the bed and she flopped down. "If you hadn't put these ideas in my head then maybe I wouldn't have let things go so far… Oh God. What did I do?"
I decided it was maybe time to take a risk. I moved and sat down beside her. Put an arm around her. Tentative, at first. I didn't want her to get upset again and launch herself at me, but at the same time it seemed obvious she was hurting. It was obvious she needed some support.
"Tell me what happened, Megan," I whispered.
"Everything you wanted to happen," she said, anger coming back to her voice. I braced, but the explosion never came.
Emotions warred inside me. On the one hand I desperately wanted to know what had happened tonight. What her definition of "too far" actually was. My mind was filled with thoughts of her bent over that desk, only this time the possibility that it had really happened was driving me wild. The possibility that it had actually happened terrified me.