Chapter 1
Rushing through the halls of Hector Hall, I finally arrived to the small office occupied by Ms. D., my Essay as Social Commentary professor. Well, she is still a PhD candidate and probably barely grazing 30 but she was not one to mess with. Behind her back she was called Ms. "Needs the D." for her nit-picking when it came to grading. But there was a method to her madness as she came highly recommended by Gradeyourprof.com.
Due to the last tournament, I had to miss her last 2 classes, so I received a threateningly polite email requesting me to stop by to "chat." The door to her office was slightly open and as I prepared to knock, I heard her laugh. It was a beautiful sound, throaty, loud, and honest. I could see her finely manicured, though short nails playing with the phone cord from where I was standing.
- "...hmmm, so I ended up not getting my pussy ate last night... Well she was cute but obviously straight, looking for a thrill you know... No time for straight women, you know that... yeah I know... "
Well that was interesting. So Ms. D. doesn't even want the D. I can't say I picked up on that. I mean, of course I noticed how attractive she is, who hadn't? Those long legs, that even, temptingly soft dark skin, those giant eyes that exhumed brilliance but could also harden, with the peculiar effect of making you want to comply to any order from her. Her mid-length, high-waisted pencil skirts accentuated her curves, especially as she was fond of pumps and liked to strut around the class as she read or discussed passionately the topic du jour. And one definitely could not go without noticing her chest. Even the most chaste of her outfits could not hinder its magnificence. Had I known Ms. D. got down with us ladies like that...
- "... ugh, and I need it too, girl, it's been so long... Yeah... I want something exciting, you know, but where am I going to meet someone, I'm always here... oh shit, speaking of, I have an appointment with a student... Haha, its it's not like that, she's an athlete so weird schedule... basketball... shut up... pretty cute, yeah... I mean I try not to look at my students like that... but there's something... I wouldn't mind..."
As she whispered those words and laughed throatily, she turned slightly, looked up and finally noticed me at the door. Our eyes met but she hastily looked away. So she thought I was cute? I wasn't sure that's how I wanted her to describe me, but I could work with that. She hurried off the phone, looking slightly contrite as she didn't expect me to hear what she'd just said. She motioned for me to come forward.
- "Miss Hill, nice to see you. Were you standing here long?" she asked, having apparently regained her composure.
- "Long enough. You wanted to see me Ms. D.?" I replied, giving her my best smile.
- "Your last paper... Listen, I can understand that you have commitments to the University that demand a lot of your time but if you can't handle the course load, you should probably talk to someone."
- "Yeah, I rushed through that one..."
"Faith, you're a good writer, and this class could be good for you but I would rather you withdraw than miss out on what it could offer you."
"But Miss D..."
- "Or maybe you can get a tutor or something but I will not keep allowing you to submit multiple drafts when I'm not willing to do it for other students. I can clearly tell when a student is not making an effort."
I looked at her, furious. I think I knew what I could and couldn't handle. Sure I did bullshit through this paper but its 2% of my grade. She knew I wasn't some slacker so this wasn't really warranted. As I opened my mouth to give her a piece of my mind, she stood up, meeting me at eye level.
For a moment, she too seemed to have forgotten what she intended to say. Instead, we stood there, looking at each other, as if truly noticing the other for the first time. Breaking away, my gaze ventured south, taking in the sweat pearling at her temples, rolling down to her generous cleavage. Her hands rested on the table, causing her to bend slightly forward. Her perfume, gentle but captivating, reached my nostrils, inviting me to find its source. This woman awakened something in me. Usually I enjoyed the easy conquests my status on the team afforded me. The less complicated, the better. But this... this was new, tempting, a powder keg waiting to erupt.
- "Ms. D.., do you want me to withdraw so I don't miss out on the class, or so you can feel less guilty about wanting to fuck me?" I looked at her directly, daring her to deny her own words and the heat between us since I came through the door.
- "Um, that was a private conversation, and not the exact words I used. Plus my point stands..."
-"So you don't want to fuck me?" I pressed, placing my hands next to hers on the desk, bringing my face even closer to hers.
I watched her eyelashes flutter, as if trying to blink herself back to reality. I smiled to myself, relishing the power I seemed to have on her. A second later, I watched a small smile lift the corners of her mouth. Before I realized her intent, a svelte, yet firm hand wrapped around my nuque, pulling me close. I closed my eyes, expecting a kiss I knew I'd feel in my toes. Yet, nothing came. When I opened them again, she was staring at me with a fire I'd never noticed before.
- "I'm sure you're used to getting everything you want huh?"
- "Miss D.."
- "Right? Daddy's a big time coach on the League, your numbers are WNBA level, boys and girls all want to be on your arm yet you thought you'd want a challenge, huh?" Her grip at the back of my neck tightened as she added, even lower, "Answer me."
- "Mm..maybe." My voice was almost a whisper. What the hell was she going to do to me? Report me? Fail me? Laugh at me? Unable to withstand the tension, I closed my eyes again.
"Open." Her voice was sharp. As I complied, she got closer, and closer still, her lips reaching my ear.
- "You're nowhere near ready to handle my games, little girl. If I were you, I'd turn around, take that pert little ass and those impossibly long sexy legs and hightail it out of here. If you don't, whatever happens..." She punctuated her unfinished sentence with a small electrifying bite to my earlobe. Her tongue traced the length of my neck as her hand squeezed one last time and pulled me away from her. "Out," was her last word as she sat down and directed her attention to her computer, my presence already a distant memory.
Chapter 2
No matter how much I tried to avoid it, here it was, another Tuesday. And with it came the class I taught to the girl ruling my wettest dreams and scariest nightmares. Sure, last time I was able to stop myself before we got too far, but I couldn't very well explain my tongue on any student's body parts to the Dean. No matter how sweet they smelled, or how delightfully frightened they looked.
After staying in bed much longer than I should have, for one last orgasm, I was definitely running late, so late that the thought of wearing underwear did not even cross my mind.
