This is about the halfway point in the tale of Dr. Michaels and Jason. Let me know in the comments if you like it so far and want more!
*****
Dr. Michaels had two cans of coffee for breakfast and drove into work simultaneously exhausted and jittery. She had a cigarette walking to class, but that just made her feel even worse. By the time she stood before her morning class, Michaels wanted to both vomit and sleep for a year. In the end, she had given up and put on a YouTube video about grammar for the last twenty minutes of class while she cradled her head in her in hands in hoped no one noticed that she was dozing.
It was a bad morning.
It didn't help that the day was sunny and cloudless. Almost hot. It was downright obscene, especially for November. Michaels hated cloudless skies. That blank, blue slate of infinity felt oppressive and hollow, like a celestial canvas nature had forgotten to paint in. She longed for the cold, dark clouds that gave the whole world a constant energy, the freezing winds that made company necessary.
Michaels felt scooped out and weak, like she was made of eggshell and simply walking too fast or thinking too hard would crack her. Part of it was definitely Jason withdrawals, she knew. It seemed like every few seconds she was wracked with a pang of guilt. Beating on him for having a female friend? Biting him! What was that, just what the hell was that? Human bites were filthy, and such a wound could very easily become infected. What would happen if Jason had to see a doctor? "Sadist Teacher" was not an explanation that she or the authorities would find agreeable.
Dr. Michaels did better in her second class of the morning. A debate among the students sprang up around sexism in the novels of the Bronte sisters, which Michaels had a good time moderating. So good, in fact, that she found herself still chatting with a pair of enthusiastic girls after class long enough to earn a sour look from the professor waiting in the doorway to use the classroom after her. The girls laughed about it, and shadowed Michaels for awhile across campus, still eager to probe her for literary factoids. At one point Michaels made an embarrassingly stupid joke ("Jane Eyre? I just met Eyre!") and the girls cackled their heads off, one of them clutching Michaels' arm and nuzzling at her shoulder as she gasped for breath.
Dr. Michaels rolled her eyes and sent the goofy bimbos on their way soon after that. Such silly children! Fresh from leaving home, not nearly on their feet as they think they are, and so desperate for a mother figure they can pretend is always there to hold their hand.
...poor Jason...
Dr. Michaels shook her head to dislodge the pet from that train of thought, and yet...
...I love you, Ma'am...
...the stupid child kept creeping in.
Michales shook her head harder.
It was obvious she needed to spend time with people her own age. Even if that meant Ted and the gang of half perv, half dweebs that occupied the better part of a table this time of day in the cafeteria. They weren't so bad, really—at least they were smart. Well, mostly. In certain ways. They knew academia, sure, but more than half of them had never really worked a day in their life. Too many had gone from high school top 10%, to pampered undergrads, to coddled graduates...and finally right to professors. No stops in actual reality in between. Do not pass Go, do not collect any real life experience.
Yet such were now Michaels' peers, and she just had to learn to adapt. It was the adult thing to do. If she had to throw herself on a sword of banality to earn a bit of maturity, then so be it. Suffering banal company from time to time was also an adult thing, she had come to learn.
So Dr. Micaels slipped into the teeming cafeteria, wriggling past to a pair a smartphone-ing goths to reach the plates for the salad bar while still managing to bludgeon a tiny Aian girl with her shoulder bag. After slowly building an acceptable salad (marred only by the inclusion of yellow bell peppers, which were far too sweet), Michaels shouldered her way through the crowd towards the faculty's usual corner table...
...only to find it occupied by a dozen ponytailed members of the women's soccer team.
Dr. Michaels' paused, cradling her salad, peering about for a familiar adult face. Yet she found herself alone in a sea of children. And of course, adding insult to insult, Michaels spotted Jason at a far table sharing an enormous plate of cheese fries with Lindsay, Azalea, and couple of other nobody losers. The pet's back was to her, but Lindsay noticed Michaels, her eyes lighting up and her hand offering a small, but energetic wave. After a few moments, Lindsay began to beckon Michaels over, first with one hand, then both.
Dr. Michaels pretended not to see her, her cheeks suddenly flushing with frustration and rage. She wandered over to take a seat at a long counter lining the windows and choked down her salad, regretful at every bite of the fries she would be eating if she had known the adults wouldn't be watching.
Jason came to visit during during office hours, and though Dr. Michaels' mood and energy got an immediate boost from having him near, she still felt a bit too out of sorts to play with him much. She sat him on her lap and tongued his throat for a bit, then had him brush her hair again for a time. But before long Jason simply sat at her feet, resting his head on Michaels' lap while she read essays with one hand and idly petted his shaggy hair with the other. Eventually, though, the boy's hot breath puffing on her crotch set Michaels' blood alight and she had him eat her out under the desk until she came. It had become such an easy trick for him to perform! No teenager had any right to be so good at eating pussy. Yet he was, and so Michaels gave the pet a few gracious pats on his wet cheek, packed her bag, and left him on his knees, wiping his face with her handkerchief as she set off for home.
