Disclaimer: the following is a work of fiction. It may contain scenes of violence, bondage and/or sexual situations which may or may not be consensual, and is intended for adult readers only. All characters portrayed in this story are adults. This work in not for profit and is intended as entertainment only. The author does not support or encourage violence or humiliation towards women or anyone. Characters in this story are fictional and not based on any person living or dead, and are not meant to infringe on any existing characters in other literatures.
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Tom Brown, teacher in the history department at Penndale university, was entering his second week of courses and already, as far as he was concerned, he had made history - at least on a personal level. Given how much he had enjoyed in his new sexual partner's company - the delicious and devious Myriam Holt, who also happened to be one of his students - Tom was living a fantasy many times dreamt of, but never truly expected. The impropriety of this relationship was not lost on him, but he couldn't simply ignore his desires, not when she kept on teasing him (and honestly, he was doing the same).
Everything would have been perfect had Tom not been bothered by the personal trials of his friend and mentor, Dana Foster, whose relationship was breaking down. Several times in the past weeks, Tom had managed to comfort her over conversation, and he felt proud of this accomplishment, even though he hoped to do more.
It was a strange feeling, between torn between pleasure and pain every moment of the day.
On the Tuesday morning, as he was getting up, Tom checked his phone and saw a message from his younger lover.
MYRIAM: I'm ready now. Carry a condom on you at all times, just in case.
He paused, rereading the text twice. He replied immediately.
TOM: Results back already?
MYRIAM: Yes. All good.
The response came back quickly, and it made Tom smile. They had agreed to get tested for STDs before pursuing their physical relationship further. Still, she would only have gotten tested yesterday. Could she get results in less than 24 hours? Somehow, this wasn't clear to him.
TOM: That fast?
MYRIAM: Went at 8AM yesterday. Because it's important.
TOM: Ok.
MYRIAM: See you in class.
That would be at 10:30. Tom hurried dressing, suddenly eager to get to school. He realized he didn't own any condoms - however, he remembered that his friend Porter had tossed one his way in the minivan encounter, one which he hadn't used. He looked for it - finding it on the top of his dresser. He pocketed it before heading out.
Dropping by his office, Tom didn't cross paths with Dana, not that it surprised him. He did notice on the messageboard that her morning class has been cancelled. Concerned but unable to do anything about it, he headed to his own classroom, walking in and making a conscious effort not to stare in Myriam's direction. Luckily, she sat at the back of the class and kept mostly to herself, as most students in the back did.
In fairness to his worries, it did seem like Myriam was not expecting any form of preferential treatment in class. Of course, this was only their third such meeting, and it might show up only later when quizzes became an issue. As for now, she participated in group exercises, she never volunteered an answer (though that was hardly surprising since more than half the class didn't) and she made no disruptions. The roughly two hours of class went by without Tom even thinking on the events of the weekend, too caught up in his material.
When he called the end, Tom went to check his phone. She had dropped a message his way at some point. He was glad he hadn't checked earlier.
MYRIAM: I'm not wearing any.
The image associated with the message was taken between her legs. She had chosen to sport a short skirt today, and the picture plainly presented her lack of panties. Even though he had told her school was off-limits for their unusual relationship, he didn't mind. Still, he decided to delete the picture, but he stopped right before doing so. He would keep it until he got home, transfer it to his hard drive and then delete it. Sneering, he walked her walk out of class without acknowledging him.
After chatting up with a few students who wanted some insight on their upcoming first exam, Tom headed back to his office. He walked in on his roommate and mentor on the phone. Quickly, she hung up after spotting him, barely saying goodbye to the person she was talking to, as if she had been caught doing something illegal or inappropriate. Tom, mindful of her current well-being, said nothing as he headed for his desk.
"Hi Tom," she called him out.
"Dana. What's up? How are you doing?"
As he spoke, Tom carefully placed his phone out of reach, given what was currently on it. Dana, unmindful of this, answered.
"Better. Better than Sunday, and much better than Saturday evening."
"Glad to hear it."
He turned around to face his computer, telling himself that he had done his good deed, but she kept on talking, so he swiveled back in her direction.
"You know," she said, "it really meant a lot that you would call."
"Anyone would have done the same."
"You know, it's really weird."
"What is?"
"That I would call you."
There was no judgement in those words, only calm revelation which made Dana's eyes wander, staring nowhere in particular. Tom waited for her to explain herself.
"I mean, I could have called my parents, other friends... my first thought was to call you."
"Well, I'm flattered."
"You should be," she said with a smile.
She turned away to her computer, so Tom assumed she was done, swiveling back. When she continued chatting, he didn't flip around immediately, wanting to know where she was going with this argument.
"When Randy came over on Saturday night, I was really... well, horny, to put it plainly. I don't know why. My hormones were through the roof. And I've been with him for so long - well, it was easy to figure it out."
"Uh-huh."
Tom only half-turned towards her as he mostly acknowledged her comment. The conversation was making him uncomfortable.
"And of course, it would have been a bad idea. He went as far as kissing me, and then, I saw her face - you know, the one we had a... well, the one he fucked while I was watching."
"And it turned you off," Tom hazarded.
"God no! I wish it had. I kept seeing her face and the way he was pleasing her - lord, I wanted that to be me."
The awkwardness was there, but not as much as Tom would have anticipated. Perhaps his last few weeks with Myriam had loosened him up - and hearing his mentor speak thusly wasn't that shocking, to be fair. She was a woman, a mother, and a lovely person, beautiful and smart.
"But I pushed him away, sent him off - of course, he stole my phone. Claimed it was an accident."
Tom fully turned his chair around. He noticed that Dana had taken off her glasses and was playing with them through her fingers.
"What can I do to help?" Tom inquired.
It wasn't that the story or her plight or emotions had no interest, but Tom was a practical man who wanted to provide concrete assistance. She knew this of him, sometimes commending him, sometimes chastising him. In this case, she did neither.
"Just... listen, please."
"Ok. Go ahead."
She paused, considering her words, as if what she was trying to say was hard to express. She stood up, heading for the door and leaning against it.
