Author's note:
Thank you to everyone who read, liked, rated, and commented on the first part of this story! I'm really pleased it went down as well as it did. I hope you enjoy the next installment in Beth and Rosa's adventure. More to come...
***
My body was aflame my entire walk to campus. Barring a couple of quick, casual greetings in corridors, I hadn't seen Beth in person since the weekend. In the week following our night in the hotel room, our email exchanges had remained professional. We had exchanged numbers, but so far neither of us had made use of this new line of communication. I had been tempted, on more than one occasion, to write to her, but had so far succeeded at stopping myself. Though Beth had mentioned there being a "next time" when we parted, I was wary of seeming needy -- and, given Beth's ability to consume my waking mind with depraved fantasies, I was keen to maintain as much distance and restraint as possible, for the sake of continuing to function in my daily life.
I had chosen my outfit for our dissertation meeting with great care to support this, wearing a casual, oversized shirt with an abstract pattern and tight, high-waisted blue jeans. I wanted to look like I wasn't trying to look attractive, but I also wanted to look
good.
The jeans, in particular, were perfect in this respect: they clung to my curves, emphasized my narrow waist and my toned, round ass, but they were casual. My hair was in a french braid, and I had applied minimal makeup. I hoped my fashion choices would be enough to help me maintain the veneer of coolness I had been cultivating, and that Beth wouldn't simply see right through me in a matter of seconds.
My heart fluttered behind my ribs as I knocked on her office door. I almost felt more nervous here, now, than I had in the hotel corridor. It felt bizarre -- this was just a routine meeting. But it felt like a test. I had to prove to Beth that this was fine, that I could handle our new dynamic with ease. I didn't want her to stop being my advisor, and I sure as hell didn't want our other interactions to stop either. This was my opportunity to show her that the two could coexist, that I was capable of maintaining an iron barrier between our professional and personal lives.
The second Beth opened the door, I felt my resolve falter. She was perfect. Objectively, she looked the same as she might on any other working day, but there was a glimmer to her smile, something mischievous and inviting, private and dangerous. A tacit recognition of our shared knowledge. Her voice, however, was unfailingly professional as she invited me in.
My body brushed against hers as I entered the office, and a shock ran through my body. I willed myself to remain calm, to sit down in my usual spot and act natural, even as the blood rushed through my ears. As she walked past me and towards her desk, I felt the brush of her hand on my shoulder and a sigh escaped my lips. When she finally sat down and faced me, I could tell from her amused expression that I was utterly transparent.
"So, tell me about the process of reworking this. How do you think it's going?" Beth's professional voice was completely at odds with her expression, but I took my cues from the former and did my best to ignore the fiery lust coursing through my veins. I went into autopilot, recounting the week's work and highlighting problem areas of my chapter with practiced ease.
We settled into the routine quickly and easily. Beth's hungry gaze receded and she listened attentively before launching into her own feedback. Over the course of the meeting, I almost forgot that this was the same woman who, mere days ago, had climaxed while riding my face and reduced me to a whimpering, feral mess in a hotel room. Occasionally, though, our eyes would meet just so, and I would glimpse
that
Beth behind my advisor's cool facade, and feel a blush crawl up my neck and into my cheeks.
Our meeting drew to a comfortable close after about an hour of conversation. As I left, my heart sank a little. I was glad to have been able to continue to work with Beth, but the hour had left me hungry for contact and desperately horny. I had a wine reception to attend that evening, our department chair's book launch, and the thought of sitting through it while this aroused was excruciating. I headed home, hoping to give myself some relief before the evening.
My apartment was a small two-bed walk-up, a twenty minute walk from campus. I had it to myself that semester as my roommate had secured a prestigious fellowship in Europe, and I was enjoying the solitude. The living arrangements were cramped for two, but perfect for one, and the place was much neater with Thea and her slobbish boyfriend out of the way -- though I never would have been able to afford the rent alone.
As I shrugged off my jacket, eager to reach my room, my phone buzzed in my back pocket. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of Beth's name, and I stopped in my tracks.
Good to see you earlier. I hope you were comfortable.
The text was both maddeningly curt and disarmingly frank. I agonized over the reply for a few minutes, before finally settling on something that felt appropriately cool.
You too. I was, all good.
I cringed at the message the second I sent it, but was quickly distracted by the ellipses indicating that Beth was typing a reply.
Would you still like there to be a next time?
I could hear Beth's voice as I read her words -- cold and precise, seemingly immune to the kind of fluttering incompetence I couldn't keep at bay. I was tempted to leave her hanging, to walk away from my phone for a few hours in a show of indifference, but it occurred to me that Beth, of all people, would not look kindly on that brand of juvenile game-playing.
Very much so.
It felt liberating to be so abrupt. The reply came instantly.
What are your plans for the afternoon?
This took me by surprise, and I blushed furiously. I wondered just how honest to be. Revealing my plans to masturbate while thinking of her felt a step too far.
At home, emotionally preparing myself for Pembroke's book launch.
Not entirely a lie, but not the whole, embarrassing truth, either. Then, emboldened by Beth's candor, I added:
You're welcome to join me.
Before I could regret my sudden surge of courage, a reply popped up:
I would like that very much
.
I appreciated the speed of Beth's replies, the lack of petty communication games. I texted her my address and thanked the universe again for Thea's academic good fortunes. At the same time, I suddenly felt panicked. The apartment was nice enough, but no match for the luxurious suite she had invited me to last week -- and I was a fumbling, blushing mess, the cool decisiveness I had mustered over text wouldn't work in person. I paced nervously, waiting for Beth's arrival with a mixture of apprehension and excitement.
***
I opened the door to find Beth, breathless from the walk, her hair windswept. I stepped aside wordlessly to let her in, and felt her hungry gaze on me as I locked the door behind her. A split second later, I was pressed against the door, my hands pinned above me as Beth pushed into me with a deep, desperate kiss. I had spent the hour before her arrival quietly rehearsing a casual, disaffected routine in my head, but I melted instantly under her touch, eagerly reciprocating her affection and instinctively rocking my hips against her. Part of me was relieved that she had decided to be so direct: we only had a matter of hours before the wine reception, and I didn't want to waste any time. I wanted her naked and on top of me, growling orders into my ear.
"You have no idea," Beth whispered huskily between kisses, "how difficult it was not to do this earlier." She bit down hard on the soft skin of my neck and I moaned appreciatively. Her hands roamed over my body, hastily unbuttoning my shirt and finding the bare skin of my stomach underneath. My own hands slipped underneath Beth's coat to caress her soft curves.
Eventually, Beth pulled away, leaving me leaning against the door, breathless and flushed. She was visibly flustered, too, and this excited me. The brazen lust with which she looked at me was maddeningly attractive. It was then that I spotted a small black carrier bag by my feet on the floor. Beth spotted me looking and smirked mischievously as she bent down to pick it up.
"I stopped to pick up a couple of things," she explained casually, sauntering over to the couch as if she owned the place. She shrugged off her coat and draped it over the back of a chair before sitting down. Her eyes stayed on me the entire time. "Take a look -- if there's anything you're not interested in, just put it back in the bag."
I followed her to the couch and reached for the bag. I sifted through several layers of black tissue paper before my hands brushed against something cold and hard, metal. I fished out a pair of handcuffs and bit back a smile -- handcuffs had featured prominently in many of my fantasies about Beth, though I had yet to tell her that. I placed them on the coffee table gently, aware of her gaze. I reached back into the bag, and this time I found something silky that I correctly identified as a blindfold. The final two items were more familiar -- a velvet-soft, expensive silicone dildo, and a harness. Both went on the table without hesitation. By now, I was painfully aware of how wet I was. My mind was running wild with anticipation, envisaging all the scenarios in which Beth might put these items to use.
"Good," Beth said softly as I put the bag down and turned back to face her. "Last time I mentioned I wanted to push you harder -- are you still okay with that?"
"Absolutely," I replied, my voice sharp with impatience. This seemed to please her.
"In that case, we should come up with a safe-word. Does anything spring to mind?"
"...Butler?" I replied, half-jokingly. Beth threw back her head and a loud, warm laugh bounced off the walls.
"No. Absolutely not," she retorted, still sniggering.
