One of the benefits of being a grad student in my department is that, if we applied for it, we were assigned a shared office in an musty building next to the parking lot. I didn't care that it was musty since it meant that I'd have a spot to park my books and anything else I wanted and that I would have a space to study and write papers away from the distractions of my cottage in Santa Monica. The graduate advisor informed me of my office number, gave me a key and explained that I would be sharing with Francisca. I didn't flinch but inwardly let out a whoop of joy because this meant that I'd be spending time with the loveliest woman in my cohort. Francisca was a petite, coffee-hued, Latina who was pretty, articulate and totally fascinating. I had often appreciated the contours of her slim physique and thought about licking my way down her neck, over her collar bones and down to the A cup breasts that were perfect for her tiny frame. Sandals showed off her elegant feet and her graceful brown hands were framed by multicolored bangles and manicured nails. I thought about those fingers caressing my face and body, in my mouth and gripping my cock. But so far, those were just fantasies.
At first, our shared office situation was not particularly exciting. Francisca was friendly but we used the space with a fair degree of concentration on the considerable amount of reading we had to get through. In the interest of academic mastery we discussed Karl Marx, Max Weber, Emile Durkheim, Michel Foucault, Pierre Bourdieu, and Giles Deleuze, theorists common to many graduate student's curricula. One Wednesday afternoon we tried to come to grips with what Deleuze and Guattari mean by deterrorialization without particular clarity. At about five o'clock Francisca exclaimed "Fuck it, I need a drink."
"Do you want to go down to Whiskey Blue for happy hour?" I asked.
"That sounds great," Francisca responded, "I can't stand another minute of this."
We closed up shop and walked down to Westwood. Over drinks, I learned a lot more about Francisca. Her parents had moved from Mexico to California before she was born and had prioritized the education of their three children of whom Francisca was the oldest. I told her about my upbringing too and we ordered a second round of Dry Manhattans. Francisca had done very well in high school and got a scholarship to New York University. Now she was back in Southern California where she'd grown up but had doubts about her academic career. I told her that my impression was that she was extremely on top of things and that she seemed like the brightest one in our cohort.
"Really?" Francisca asked, "but there's people from Harvard and Yale, and also the international students who are doing this work in a second language."
"It doesn't matter," I replied, "all of us are insecure. We're all secretly afraid that we'll be found out, that we really don't know what we're doing and don't deserve to be in graduate school."
Francisca's face fell and she placed her slender hand on mine. "So I'm not the only fraud?" she asked sadly.
"I didn't say anyone was a fraud," I responded, turning my palm up to meet hers and savoring the sensation of her touch. "We all lack confidence but none of us would have been accepted into the program if we hadn't appeared promising to the admissions committee. So maybe we should assume that we're capable of rising to the occasion."
Francisca's expression brightened and I felt her hand close around mine. She leaned forward and kissed my cheek. "Thanks, Liam," she said, squeezing my hand.
We looked into each other's eyes for a moment. I was struck by the beauty of Francisca's face: limpid eyes, well-defined cheekbones, gorgeous brown skin, and bee-stung lips, slightly open, slightly moist. I leaned in and kissed Francisca softly on the lips, then pulled back to gauge her response.
Francisca continued to look at me and involuntarily licked her lips. Her fingers gripped my hand and she leaned forward to kiss my lips, a little more forcefully than I had kissed her, then she pulled back and withdrew her hand from mine.
"Are we being stupid? Is this a bad idea?" she blurted out.
"What do you mean? What's the matter?" I countered.
Francisca responded with an anxious barrage: "It's complicated right, I mean, we share an office, we'll be in the same program for years, I've got a boyfriend back in New York, but we agreed to see other people, but still I don't know, and you, well, I don't know, but don't you have a thing, you know, with Pauline? And she and I will be in the same program for years too."
I didn't know how she knew about me and Pauline since we had been very discreet but as Francisca continued, I found out more.
"Oh, God, you must think I'm a spazz," Francisca said, calming down a little. "Jane told me about your hot tub adventure and something about your arrangement with Pauline, so I'm not accusing you of anything. It's all just that, well, I'm nervous, I'm lonely, I'm sorry."
"You don't have anything to apologize for," I said, "I admire you and want to be your friend, now, and hopefully for a long time. I'm also really attracted to you and have been since I met you. Pauline doesn't want to keep me for herself and even suggested the idea of me being intimate with you. I'd love that but if you don't feel comfortable going there, I still want to be there for you as a friend."
Francisca took both of my hands in hers. "Sometimes I feel boxed into choices I don't want to make, and you just took all the pressure off. Thank you for being you. You're fantastic, Can I make you dinner?"
Dinner at Francisca's was simple but satisfying: pasta with puttanesca sauce, a Caesar salad, and red wine. She padded around her carpeted studio apartment in bare feet as graceful and beautiful as her hands, her toe nails painted a deep red. She took the dishes away and then sat next to me on the couch after pouring the last of the wine into our glasses. We drank the wine and Francisca put the empty glasses on the side table. Francisca lay her head on my shoulder and I put my arm around her, feeling the delicacy of her bird-like physique and taking in the enticing scent of her warm body.
Francisca let out a deep sigh.
"What's that sigh about?" I asked her.
"Two things, I guess," she replied. "Impatience with myself for freaking out on you. but the other part is contentment, surrendering to how good I feel. How good I feel with you."
"I feel good to be with you," I said. "But maybe I should get going?"
Francisca grabbed my leg as she raised her head to look at me with anxiety in her eyes. "Unless you want me to stay..." I continued.
"Oh Liam, I'm a piece of work, aren't I?" Francisca said, relaxing her expression. "I want you to stay, I want you to hold me in your arms all night."
These words sent a jolt of pleasure through my body as I anticipated a night with Francisca. At this point she leaned in, placed her hands on my shoulders and kissed me. We melted into one another as I ran my hands up her slender back. There was no urgency as we continued to kiss and touch each other in a dreamlike state.
Francisca said, "I want to take a shower before we go to bed if you don't mind waiting for me. You can shower too, if you like, and that will give me a little time to straighten up."
Francisca retrieved a red négligée from her closet and went into the bathroom. I sprawled out on the couch, anticipating a night of pleasure with Francisca. After about ten minutes, she emerged from the bathroom and handed me a towel. She looked exquisite, her tight body packaged in red silk that hung from her shoulders on spaghetti straps, showing her narrow waist, small shapely breasts and revealing her slim brown legs and thighs. I felt my cock stir in my pants but excused myself to shower, and since I didn't have a toothbrush, found some mouthwash to rinse with. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I re-entered the studio, now illuminated with candlelight. Francisca lay propped up on pillows in her bed which was freshly made up with orange satin sheets that reflected the candles' gleam. Hanging the towel on the back of a chair, I slipped naked between the sheets next to Francisca and looked into her eyes.
"You're so handsome," Francisca complimented me, reaching to caress my cheek with her hand.
