Sensuous Studytime

After that night you knew things were going to be different, and better. That night, it was just a precursor to something more, something forbidden and yet, oh so tantalizing. Watching the way he looked at you as he drove away, the eyes only pealing away last minute, you knew he wanted more and you wanted to give it. But a girl can’t just let a guy have what he wants; first you give them a taste of that seductive cocktail, then you take it away, make him work for it.

Days pass, and the weekend arrives, those precious days that both end and begin a week. You wonder how the next class session will be. Will he be obvious? Will he have changed his mind? No, don’t even think that, of course he won’t have changed his mind. But when will you get to see him again? You don’t want to do all the work, that’s not fun.

Maybe it’s his age, that makes him act this way. No calls, no messages, not even a scholarly e-mail. Was this his way of making you beg? You’d gotten his e-mail on the syllabus, and you’d recovered not only his full name, but also his address and home phone number…but you were not going to use it. It’s one thing to come across as flirtatious and open, and another to be a obsessive stalker. Plus, HE was going to the make the second move.

Okay…so maybe one message wouldn’t hurt? No! You can’t give in!

The next day, in class it was the same story as usual, expect with a few more sideways glances snuck in there. However, you had to admit, it was a little exhilarating to watch those lips that were once on yours, the ones that called your name. It was almost enough to tempt you to stay after class for some “one-on-one” help. Keyword being, almost. Instead you went to the library, hoping to get some studying done; it’s important to have a flame, but if that flame burns your homework and grades away, well then, that just would not work out.

You walk in and breath in the silence, the lights creating an almost other-worldly feeling to the room; making it seem like time stood still there, the windows being the only corners of the room that betrayed it with their portals to the darkness of the night sky. You walk up the stairs, conscious of how even the sound of the creaking boards sounded like an atomic bomb. Finally at the top of the building, you’re favorite place, you take your seat next to the window that outlooks the entire campus, the entire city. You drop your backpack onto the table and unzip it, carefully reaching in and taking out your books and binder. Sighing slightly, you crack open the book and start the first sentence but start to find your mind wandering. Whoever decided that textbooks should have the diction of a shakespearean novel HAD to have known that it provokes daydreaming more so than immersion in the book.

Looking around you see that no one else in on this level of the library, the silent yet thoughtful books sit on the shelves, as if dreaming. The windows shine with darkness and you can see the moon outside. Studying sure does suck, sitting with a book, it can’t even talk with you. If you have a question or need more explanation about the topic it sure as hell doesn’t talk back and help you. It’s like a silent and deviant mute that’s full of knowledge but is very unwilling to share any of it. You lay your head down on the table and look outside, you can see the classroom.

Less than a week ago you had him all over you, with his sexy voice and witty quips. You close your eyes, trying to remember what his face looked like that night. You fold your hands over your head and run them through your hair, hiding the grin and blush apparent on your face. Then you hear a creak, sigh, why do other people have to come up here? The only books up here are previously used textbooks of no current use, and the air conditioning is way too cold up here. You grumble and sit up straight and stare at the textbook. But the steps get louder, getting closer to you. This hasn’t happened before, it’s like the unspoken rules of the library, if there are other open tables, you do not purposefully choose the table with someone sitting at it. It’s just odd. You tilt your head, trying to avoid eye contact. You don’t want to talk to anyone right now.

The chair pulls out and the person takes a seat, right next to you. How pretentious. Then something familiar tickles your nose as the stranger places his briefcase on the table and clears his throat. You sneak a sideways glance and see him there, just sitting there as if nothing he had done was out of the ordinary. He was searching through his briefcase, lost in it, his eyes never straying. Whatever, you decide to ignore the god of the classroom. If he’s just going to come up and sit next to you without saying anything, well then that’s his loss. You grab your books and binder and put them back into your backpack, never looking at him. You aren’t quite sure why his actions irritate you so, maybe because they’re so damn formal. Almost as if he’s taunting you by nearing you, but not acknowledging you or what you two had done.

You push the chair back and stand up, only to have him grab your wrist. Your eyes shoot to his, meeting for the first time since the class ended. His eyes are filled with something, something different from the other night. Something more, something more predatory. He stands up swiftly and grabs your face in his hands, kissing you roughly. The chair and your backpack fall to the floor as you stagger backwards, his body following yours until it hits the bookshelf, rattling the books from their slumber. Every sound and movement becomes magnified, what if someone hears? They’re bound to have heard everything! This is not discreet! Not here, not like this!

You push your hands against him and twist your face to the left, trying to break free, but his strength increases. You dig your fingers into his jacket, but he doesn’t feel it, or if he does, he doesn’t show it. You try to tell him to stop, but it just comes out like a groan that he mistakes for pleasure. Your only solace is that the table you had chosen was at the far end of the upper floor, hopefully, if someone were to come, you’d be able to hear their footsteps.

Then he pushes harder into you, deepening the kiss. You lose your balance and your footing, standing up only because of the bookshelf behind you and your professor on top of you. Then you feel his right hand leave your face and travel down, slowly, finally finding your thigh. Suddenly, you are strikingly away of the fact that you are wearing a skirt, not a miniskirt thank god, but a skirt nonetheless. You feel his hand rubbing your leg, back and forth and finally it sneaks under the fabric, not high, but just enough to make you struggle just a little. Although it’s enjoyable in a physical sense, mentally, having him come at you, albeit flattering, is not in any way romantic.

Finally, he breaks that eternal kiss. You weren’t sure he would ever let go, but he did. Looking at you with those same eyes as earlier you see him but don’t hear him. Instead you voice your mind, this can’t go on like this.

“W-we can’t do this here…” you stammer. Even though you were able to breathe through your nose during the kiss, you find yourself gasping lightly.

“Why not?” he asks as he lowers his head and tilts it, showing off his cute boyish grin. Oh god, how the curvature of his mouth makes your heart skip a beat. He chuckles a little as your face gives away your disapproval. He rubs your thigh softer now, as he leans into you. “Don’t you like danger? The possibility of being seen? Being caught?”

“N-no!” you almost yell, but then you regret it. Having him tied up in your room, having your way with him, that would be dangerous and exhilarating. But here?! In the damn library?! Has he been smoking the philosophy teacher’s pot? “Well-I mean, not here!”

“So, you don’t want me to touch you, look at you, or kiss you?” He asks, putting on a pretend hurt face, pouting. But those eyes, they betray his real emotions. In a flash his pout is gone and he’s kissing at your neck. You let out what seems like a squeal, but you which you will never admit to. He pushes your left leg up with his right hand and slides his other hand around your waist. “You mean to say, that you want me to stop” He kisses your collarbone. “want me to stop this?”

You go weak for a second with the onslaught, but you regain your senses, and remember why he can’t do this, well, he can, but why he shouldn’t do it here. The sound of students one level down, and librarians hovering around brings you back down to reality.

“I do.”

He stops, and freezes in place, his face showing signs of slight frustration. He moves back and lets go of your leg and adjusts his jacket, clearing his throat again; a quirk of his.

“But…” You walk towards him, a devilish smirk on your face. “We can go somewhere else, somewhere… more private” You run a finger along his jaw line and watch as his eyes widen slightly before reverting back.

“Well, what place did you have in mind?” He glances around the room, “I do believe that you require much more tutoring. Especially after that display right now. You must realize, the teacher is always right.”

“I am a firm believer, that the teacher can always….learn something from his students.” Saying that you bite your bottom lip, you like how it takes him off guard. “As for the place, I don’t know. I’m not the adult in this sitaution..” you cast a sideways glance at him, “you should have more experience with things like this.” You like taunting him, teasing him.

“How precocious…well then, meet me behind the commons in ten minutes.” With that, he grabs his briefcase and walks away, leaving you there, clothing slightly amiss. Well, at least you won’t end up on the front page of the newspaper for getting caught in the school library with an older man, that’s also your teacher. That would take a lot of explaining to the parents, but hell, it’d at least satiate their questions about your love life. Because right now, your love life is so sizzling you could cook something on it.

You get there a minute late and find him standing outside the building, smoking a cigarette. You didn’t expect that, at first you wondered if it was the same person, but you know the clothes he wears. That jacket, that sexy formal shirt, and those jeans. Formal yet casual, sexy yet unattainable…well, formerly unattainable.

“Hey, professor.” You chirp as you reach him, he turns to face you, exhaling a small stream of smoke.

“You’re tardy…” He mutters as he throws the butt on the floor and smashes it between his shoe and the pavement.

“Just a little, had to put my backpack away, I don’t like carrying it around.” You find the conversation becoming too casual, must change the subject! “Soo, where is this secretive place you want to take me to?”

He doesn’t answer your question, just grabs your hand and walks down the sidewalk, taking a right behind the tennis courts, down the stairs, and to the entrance of the and apartment building. What the hell? Is this a joke? This apartment is where the student teachers and upperclassmen live. Why does he have a key?

He doesn’t let go of your hand as he fumbles for his keys, finding the one he wanted and opening the building door. Although it’s late, you can hear people yelling in the other room and the sound of a tv. You strain to see who the voices belong to, but he pulls you down a hallway, up some more stairs, and into a room. The door looks like a dorm room door, but, as you strain to see where you are, you realize it’s his apartment room. But when you looked on his information at the government building and teacher directory, it listed him as living in an actual house.

“This is…I mean-You live here??” The question comes out rougher than you meant it to, but i mean, professors don’t live in places like this!

He chuckles and answers matter-of-fact, “I am the part-time advisor for this building, and as such i have a key, and i so happen to know that this room is vacant. And who will think twice about hearing sounds in a building like this?” He glances at you and you blush, making him laugh a little more.

It’s a nice room though, you walk the perimeter, checking out the building and peering out the window, you can’t see anything besides trees and the hints of lights left on downstairs.

“Now where were we?” He grabs your wrists in his hands and looks at you, that same look in his eyes.

“We were at the library and you were trying to get us in trouble.” You look down but hold your nose up high, he better like that, he was stupid to do that earlier. “I don’t even know why you were there, or why you hadn’t left me any messages, or any-”

He stops your complaints by kissing you again, a little more gently. “Sorry, I didn’t know what to say.” He looks at you and for a minute you can see that he really means it.

“I think, professor, that you should be reprimanded for acting that way…” you eyes shine with the same devilish qualities you had before. He looks at you and smirks, asking what you had in mind. You push him back onto the bed and hover over him, as he did to you that one scandalous night. “You’ll see…”

You pull his jacket up, just enough so that his arms are trapped by it, not harshly, but just enough for him to know you want control this time. You smile down at him and crawl onto the bed over him. He looks at you, still grinning. Then you start unbuttoning his shirt, starting at the top down. One button, two buttons, three, four, and then you see his chest, it’s what you imagined, and does not look like it belongs to an old man at all, nor does it look like a young man. It’s strong, and cut, just slightly. You run your hands over him, feeling him, and enjoying how his muscles twitch as you skim over them. Leaning down, you kiss his chest, lightly, taunting him as he did to you. You hear his slightly groan as he stretches to see you. Suddenly, with a show of domination, rip at the shirt, unfastening the last buttons quickly. You start to pull at his belt, undoing it, when he sits up and grabs your shoulders. “That’s enough punishment.”

“Oh, but professor, i don’t think so…” You try to pull at the belt again but he pushes you to the side and rolls on top of you. Now the stage is flipped and you glare up at him.

“Don’t you remember? You were not only tardy, you also went against your professor’s wishes. I think you need to be dealt with accordingly.” He pulls your arms up so that they are slightly pinned above your head. He uses his free hand and goes back to the spot that he was at earlier, reaching underneath the fabric, only this time he stares intently into your eyes, watching your every response. His hand then abandons that area and crawls up, underneath your shirt. You squirm, you don’t like being subject to his every wish. Last time it was alright because you were able to push back, and taunt him. But not now, not after the taste of domination.

“Let’s play a little game shall we?” His hand skims your skin as it shoots farther up, reaching your bra. “For every answer you get right, you get to do one thing, but for every wrong answer i get to do something. How does that sound?”

“Fine. What kind of questions are they going to be?”

“Academic ones.” He smirks, he’s obviously got an upper hand here, but you are no slacker. You have studied all of your life. “First question, who is the prime minister of france?” Crap, you have no idea. Uh, guess a french name…a french name.

“Uh…Pierre Frances?” You regret saying it after you say it, he bursts into laughter and you turn an even brighter red color. You hate when people laugh at you, it has an uncomfortable and irritating taste.

“You lose, i get to do something…and I choose this…” His hand slips behind your back and unsnaps your bra. “Next question, who is the president of canada?”

“These aren’t fair questions! How am I to know?!” You squirm against his arms, angry at him for tricking you.

“Haha, fine, I’ll make them easier for the little student.” His hand searches around under your bra and you squirm more. “Who was felix the cat?” You know this one, but his hand, or rather, what it’s doing is making your mind malfunction. You can’t think straight and just blurt out “a cat.”

“Wrong, he was a cartoon…” He removes his hand and begins to pull your shirt up, you weren’t expecting that, you don’t want that. Not yet, you freeze, and then you hear a sound, the sound of keys.

“Dude, is this the right room? Are you sure I can have it?” You hear one voice, it sounds like a male student.

“Yea, for sure. No one has used this room in ages. It might be a little dusty but it should have all the things you need. And it-” You hear another voice answer, but before you can register what’s happening, you feel the weight on top of you disappear and next thing you know, your teacher is pulling you across the room, picking up his clothes, and running into the bathroom, he shoves you into the shower with him and closes the door. He motions to keep quiet and to stay low.

Next thing, the door opens and you hear what seems like two guys enter the room.

“Hey, dude, the bed is all messed up, what the hell. I thought you said no one used it! If it has shit on it, you’re gonna pay for the dry cleaning!” You hear the two guys yell and then laugh at each other, over a dirty reference. Then fear hits you.

“Hey, there are keys in here! Someone came in here, earlier! What dumbasses, leaving their keys. Anyways, if there is anything wrong with the bed or anything, just come see me, I am the RA of this level. Oh, and you get your own bathroom over here….”

You hear the door open and the light switch flips. You shut your eyes and grab your teacher, this is it. You two are going to be found out….and then you open them again. And it’s still dark, the lights aren’t on.

“What the hell, the lights don’t even work! You’re lucky I just want to go knock out right now..” The two walk out of the room and talk about the room, how everything will be fixed tomorrow, and that if anything comes up to let him know. Eventually the two leave the room and, after waiting a few minutes, you two step out of the bathroom, laughing to yourselves and rush down the stairs and outside, only bumping into a drunk and most likely high student.

Once outside you both keep giggling and then look at each other. He keeps laughing but reaches up and brushes the hair out of your face. “I’m sorry about how this ended, but it was fun seeing you tonight. And I am sorry I didn’t contact you. But, all of my e-mails go through the university, I can’t have us getting caught. However, I will make sure to contact you.” With that he kisses your forehead. You two eventually find your way to his car, he drops you off again and then you find yourself back in your apartment. Unable to sleep with all the thoughts of this crazy night running through your head.

Well, hopefully you’ll have some sweet dreams~