by Lexi Archer
It was infuriating. It was distracting. It was such a fucking turn on!
The reaction from the other TAs wasn't helping. All of them seemed to think I was the luckiest person in the world because I had Michael King in my class. The girls were falling all over themselves, talking about how much they wished they could see him in their labs every couple of days. The guys were going crazy because he was the big hero on campus. The one who was going to lead our team to a national championship this year.
None of them seemed to realize that to me, at least, he was just a giant pain in the ass. He was someone who was constantly hitting on me, constantly testing me, and constantly making me think tonight might be the night I was going to give up on my promise to Brian that his fantasy was never going to become reality. That I was going to give into temptation and the extreme dangers involved.
Damn it. I’d just spent another five minutes staring at words on a page, looking at the answers but not actually seeing them. This was seriously going to start cramping my ability to do my job if I kept getting distracted by this guy!
A knock on the door drew my attention away from grading papers. To be honest I welcomed the distraction. I looked up and smiled, but the smile froze on my face when I saw who stood there.
Michael. Towering in the door. Grinning down at me. And I immediately felt my body catching fire. At the same time I hated that my first reaction upon seeing him was my body catching fire when what I needed to do was tell him to get the hell out of my office.
Of course at the same time all I could think of was how we were alone. How there was hardly anybody in the building at this time of night. Just a couple of other people running classes down on the first floor. Well away from the upper-level offices the TAs called home. It was just the two of us up here. The kind of situation where almost anything could happen. I shivered.
"What do you want?" I asked, the words coming out perhaps a little more harsh than I'd intended. Though that didn't seem to faze him one bit. No, he kept that smile plastered on his face as he stepped in. Looking for all the world like he owned the place. I hated and loved that cocky arrogance at the same time. I wondered what the hell Brian had gotten me into.
Because I wasn't going to tell him to get lost even though that was the right thing to do.
I tried to remind myself that I was still very much a married woman. That the twisting need I felt in the pit of my stomach, the need to feel him over me, in me, was very dangerous. No matter how much Brian might enjoy it.
"I was hoping we could have a quick conversation," he said.
I sighed. "Can you just tell me what you want?"
A grin split Michael's face. I felt stupid. Asking him what he wanted? It was pretty fucking obvious exactly what he wanted. And the way he grinned just made it all the more clear. Yeah, that was a question with an obvious answer, even if I knew I could never act on the answer to that question.
Michael sat down at a chair that was usually used by the TA I shared the office with.
"Go ahead. Make yourself at home," I said with a sarcastic lilt to my voice. He ignored the sarcasm and plowed right ahead.
"I was hoping to talk to you outside of your usual office hours. I'm glad it's just you up here."
I braced myself. I bet he was glad it was just me up here I figured he was on the verge of making another attempt at hitting on me. I worried how far things might go this time around. We were up here all alone, after all, and it was all I could do to keep control of myself. I felt like a teenager who was with a cute guy for the first time. I felt my body running out of control. I knew instinctively that if he asked the right questions this time around I’d have a very difficult time giving him the right answers. The sort of answers that a good married woman should.
Not for the first time I wondered why I was such a slave to the idea of being a good married woman despite Brian’s reassurances. Maybe because on some level I didn’t believe that my husband was really that okay with this idea. Maybe because I was afraid of things spiraling out of control.
I licked my lips. "Yeah? And what exactly did you want to talk about, Michael?"
He grinned and once more I felt like I was getting a stupid answer to a very stupid question. Only his actual answer to my question was very surprising.
"I actually wanted to apologize."
I blinked. "What?"
"I'm sorry for the way I've been acting around you over the past couple of weeks. You're in here trying to do your job, trying to teach us and everything, and here I am making things difficult for you by acting like a complete ass and hitting on you all the time.”
Oh if only he knew exactly how much trouble he caused every time he hit on me. If only he knew how close he was to succeeding with each new attempt. It was almost a relief that he was apologizing. Almost. Honestly it was more of a disappointment than anything.
Despite that irrational desire to stay a good married woman there was a larger part of me that very much wanted to be bad. That enjoyed the chase and was ready to get caught. Only it looked like that wasn’t happening now, damn it.
I wondered if Brian had to deal with fucked up confusing and contradicting emotions like this, or if it was just me?
I also couldn't shake the feeling that he was playing an angle of some sort. I was surprised that a man as smooth as he was could be so clumsy when he initially hit on me, almost as though he was out of practice because he was so used to women throwing themselves at him, but he'd been getting better with each try. What if this was just another one of his attempts to try and reel me in?
A girl could hope.
"Okay, so that was a little unexpected. What's the angle?"
"No angle. Just a man who genuinely feels sorry for causing you trouble.”
"Well then. Thank you for being so understanding. Now you know where the door is."
My heart was beating fast. My body was on fire. I knew if I kept this up for much longer I was going to be in very real danger of completely losing control. Just having him so close, feeling his body so near to mine, was enough to make me want to jump him. I was swinging wildly between denying him because it was the right thing to do and denying him because it created such an electric sexual tension.
It didn't help when his hand shot out and took my own. I looked down at my desk in disbelief. Looked at the way his hand dwarfed my own. His skin was so dark. Mine so fair. Especially in comparison to his.
I looked up at him. Blinked. "What are you doing?"
"I want you to know that the last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt you. I know how difficult it is. I know the kind of pressure you must be under with your job. Knowing that if you make one small misstep you could get kicked out of the program entirely. I’m no stranger to living under constant pressure like that."
"If you're hoping to get into my pants by sympathizing with me it's not going to work," I said. Even though it was very close to working. He didn’t need to know that, though. It was all part of the game. And with each passing moment this was becoming less about me being faithful to my husband despite his professed desires and more about playing a game with a master player.
Besides, the words sounded weak even as they left my lips. From the way one corner of his mouth quirked up it seemed he knew just how weak they sounded.
"I told you. Nothing like that. I just want you to know that I understand not wanting to act on forbidden desires. I don't get it, but I understand it."
"You're awfully cocky and confident," I said.
He grinned, but he didn't pull away.
"Wouldn't you be cocky and confident if you were in my place, Mrs. Taylor?"
There was something about the cojones it took to say something like that. That, coupled with the sincere look on his face and the goofy grin that was threatening at the corners of his mouth caused me to burst into laughter. It was so ridiculous. Here was this guy who could have any woman he wanted, earnestly telling me it was just the way he was.
The te
nsion seemed to drain out of the room as he started laughing too. I thought I was out of the woods. Once again, as so often seemed to happen with Michael King, I was so very wrong.
His hand shot down to my thigh. He gave it a squeeze. He never lost his focus on my eyes, though. I wanted to pull his hand away, but at the same time I didn't want to do anything of the sort. I wanted him to move his hand up. Up. Until he was doing something that could really get both of us in trouble.
I was on fire and let's face it. There wasn't a chance in hell I was going to do anything to stop him.
"You really are a beautiful woman, Mrs. Taylor," he said. "You have to be the hottest teacher I've ever met. You have to be one of the hottest women I've seen since I got to this school, and that's saying something. I've been with a lot of women."
"You haven't been with me," I whispered.
It was so flimsy, but again, it was all I could come up with in the face of that brazen display. That arrogant confidence that said he knew I was putty in his hands.
"Yet."
One word. Yet it encompassed so much. I took in a deep breath and let it out in a shuddering sigh.
Desire to keep my job, desire to avoid getting pulled in front of a disciplinary board, warred with the desire I felt for this man. Surprisingly, the desire to stay faithful to my husband was a minor concern compared to everything else. Maybe I was finally starting to accept the premise of that ridiculous fantasy he was always trying to get me to indulge in.
Maybe I just wanted this so bad that I was caring less and less about potential consequences or whether or not Brian would freak out if this went from fantasy to reality.
Whatever the reason, I found myself leaning forward. I was out of control. There was nothing I could do to stop it as I finally gave in and pressed my lips against his. As he took the invitation for what it was. His arms snaked around me and I was like a rag doll. I was a possession for him to do with as he pleased as our mouths opened to one another and I finally embraced the forbidden passion that had been building between us ever since the first time I saw him in class.
Hell, if I'm perfectly honest this was a forbidden passion that had been building inside me ever since my husband first told me about his desire to watch me with another man. He wasn't getting to watch me with another man here, but that was tough. He was going to have to deal. I'm sure he'd he'd appreciate some new fantasy material, and boy was this going to provide him with enough material to last decades!
It was going to do the same for me, for that matter. Michael was getting bolder. Moving fast. Almost too fast, except everywhere he touched me I was on fire. I wanted to stop it. I wanted it to never end.
It was never a simple kiss. It started out basic, but there was so much complicated bullshit behind that kiss that it was anything but simple. And as he started getting more and more "handsy," as Brian had so eloquently put it when he asked me about my last encounter with Michael, well it was just making me want to throw more and more rules out the window. I realized with a shock that I was perfectly ready to let this man fuck me right here in my office!
It wasn't to be, though. This building was supposed to be mostly abandoned at this time of night, but I heard the distinct and bone chilling sounds of someone making their way down the hall. Probably one of the professors, from the clicking sound. That was a sound that could only be made by heels, something that wasn't likely to be found in this department, or by the ancient shoes the older professors preferred.
I pulled away from Michael. "Shit!" I whispered.
He got the picture. Maybe he was all about being seductive, but it also seemed like he was nice enough to not want me to get fired from my job on his account.
We spent a moment with clothes quietly rustling as I tried to get everything back in place. I threw a chemistry book open, winced when the cover made a smacking noise against the desk, and leaned over it with a finger on the page. I never read with my finger on the page, but I hoped it at least would give the impression I was working on chemistry lessons with a student rather than working on my chemistry with a student.
And so we were the perfect manufactured picture of innocence when none other than the head of the chemistry department walked by. He paused and gave me a smile and a nod, and then kept moving. As though he didn't suspect anything. Or if he did suspect something, he wasn't saying anything.
He also didn’t seem to recognize the great Michael King, but that was hardly surprising. I’m pretty sure basketball was still played with actual baskets and not nets when he was young enough to care about the sport.
I breathed a sigh of relief as the clicking of his shoes receded down the hall. It was a ridiculous thought, but those shoes might as well be jackboots.
I cleared my throat. Looked at Michael who gave me a once over that I couldn't believe. We almost got caught like that and he was still pulling that?
Then again, he was a horny college guy who was used to getting his way. We had just been making out and getting into some ill-advised heavy petting. Well, that was one hell of a dose of reality than just went walking past my office.
"You need to go," I said in no uncertain terms. "Now."
Michael shrugged as though he'd been expecting that. And to his credit he got up and moved for the door. He did stop there, though. Turned and looked at me with an intensity that felt as though I was being blasted with heat. With raw sexual energy.
"This isn't over."
A chill ran through me. I knew if I ever saw him again and we were in a situation like this I wasn't going to give even a token resistance. I was his, and that was so fucking dangerous. No, this definitely wasn't over if I put myself in this position again. The only thing for it was to avoid putting myself in front of the temptation again.
As he left Michael pulled out a phone and started texting. I rolled my eyes. All of that and he was texting right after leaving? Kids these days, even though he was only a few years younger than me.
Whatever. I gathered up my own things. I had a lot to think about, and I needed to get the hell out of here. I wanted to avoid him coming back for a potential round two after verifying the chemistry department head was gone. I blushed as I realized that was more an idea that had occurred to me then it was anything he would probably ever do.
An idea I really liked, too. All the more reason for me to get out of here and back to my husband.
Now.
11: Underhanded
I stared at my computer monitor, clicking around but not really seeing anything. How could I, considering the distractions that were on offer on my phone?
I looked over as it buzzed again. I pulled up the play-by-play description from Michael. A play-by-play that just happened with my wife a few minutes ago. I was sitting here in our house playing a videogame and meanwhile she was across campus getting hot and heavy with the most popular basketball player in our school's history!
My cock was rock hard. I couldn't focus on anything.
Making out with a guy. Letting him run his hands all over her. I still couldn't believe he was talking about my wife. I couldn't believe this was the same woman, and yet I secretly hoped that was exactly what had happened. I also wondered if she was going to say anything about it. If she was going to admit that she'd gotten so turned on that she'd made a "mistake" as she liked to put it.
Either way I was turned on, but I really hoped she’d be honest. She'd been weird about things lately. Less excited, less turned on, and more conflicted. I hoped what I did tonight would help resolve that conflict, but I also knew it had a very real potential to open up a much wider conflict in our marriage.
And yet I was powerless in the face of that obsession. That burning desire that pushed me to do more. That pushed me to try and push my wife. It was dangerous. The rational part of my mind told me as much even as the obsession took hold and my rock hard cock told me to forge ahead.
It was one hell of a fantasy.
The next phase of the plan could go one of two way
s. Either we’d wind up arguing and getting ready to start divorce proceedings, or I’d text Michael and give him the go-ahead to come over. I didn't see how there could be much in between those two scenarios. It was an all or nothing sort of proposition.
Yeah. A very dangerous game. A game that I couldn't help but play. I wondered if this was how gamblers felt. Addicted to the rush even if they knew it had the potential to ruin them with the press of a button.
Only in my case the press of the send button.
I glanced down at the clock on my computer and started to shut things down. Even if she was working late, legitimately working late and not just recovering from what she'd been doing with Michael, Megan should be home soon enough. I wanted to be ready for her when she got home. I wanted to be mentally prepared for the conversation we were about to have.
And sure enough as I was stepping out of the computer room I heard the familiar sound of her key in the doorknob. She stepped in, and she looked guilty. Or maybe that was my imagination projecting what I wanted to see onto her. Because if she was guilty she wasn’t saying anything.
I walked up and enveloped her in a huge hug that caused her eyes to go wide. She didn't even have an opportunity to close the door behind her. And when it was done she looked up at me with suspicion written plain on her face.
"What brought that on?" she asked.
She didn't seem standoffish like the last time. More curious than anything else. Genuinely wondering what the hell got into me that I was running up and hugging her. Okay, so that was a little out of the ordinary for our evening routine. Maybe I should’ve led with a simple "how was your night?" But it was too late now either way.
"No reason. Just happy to see you," I said. It sounded like a weak excuse even in my ears, but it was all that I had.
"Right…"
Megan moved into the living room. Tossed her bag down on the couch. I tried to sound as innocent as possible with my next words, but it was difficult. So very difficult.