The Good Girl 14

Simon Says: My first attempt at this kind of thing. I'd love to know how you like it or not. Be kind even if you are being honest. :)

This story is written from both perspectives, but really ends up only from one in the second half. Just a forewarning. I thought it best to tackle it this way as I am all about what MIGHT be going through someone's mind as they move through seduction.

And I made this "Mature" although it fits into several other categories. Veteran types could give me good advice on what this really fits into . . .

And while this account is completely fictional it is possible that the 'characters' in this story are loosely based on possibly some real people, maybe, with enough changes that they could never be identified. Probably not.

Thanks and enjoy. Hopefully.

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"Rachel, can you see me after class for a few? Thanks." Lane smiled and then started gathering all of his papers, laptop, etc as the panicky feeling began take her over.

Ok, what did I do? I turned everything in so far in class. Check. Wait, scratch that check. Maybe I missed something? Oh my God, I might have missed an assignment! Did he change something after the beginning of the semester??? If he did and I didn't see it I am going to be so pissed!

My insides started to churn as I started thinking about the serious point deductions I might already be suffering, point by point as I slowly walked towards him! If I don't hurry I could have a B- before I get there! Oh my God, I might even get a C!! A fucking C!!

My fingers fidget at my side as the panic levels off in my head. Get yourself together Rach. It could just be a B. God, maybe he will let me do an extra assignment, wash his car, do an interpretive dance, anything.

His eyes were still focused on his mess of papers and such as he tried to arrange them into a neat stack for transporting back to his office. "Sure," I managed. He brought his grey blue eyes up to mine, smiled and motioned with his head. "Great! Walk with me please."

Oh. My. God. He wants to speak with me in his office. Good lord I must have missed something big! Now my panic moved from my mind to my body as I felt my heart rate increase. I am NOT the girl that misses deadlines. My life is almost always in complete control. I begin every semester with a blank calendar, filling in each due date, color coded even! I check each syllabus three times against my assignments calendar, making I sure noted all correctly. I just don't miss things. Well, actually, I just don't disappoint people.

Well, until today I guess. Here is my favorite professor, my second semester with him, and I have disappointed him.

Maybe I need to take a semester off. Maybe I could take a class in organizational skills. Maybe I could enroll in military school. Maybe I could go on a wanderlust trip around Europe to find myself. Maybe I am only destined to serve muffins at a crappy diner somewhere in Jersey. I have no idea what I missed but I am sure it must have been serious if he is making me walk the walk of shame to his office to speak with me in private.

Breathe Rach. Breathe.

I walked quietly behind him until he slowed down, glanced back and smiled, moving sideways so that I could slip along aside him as we strolled down the main hallway. He has always been such a sweet man. He is energetic, jokes non-stop and seems to care about his students. I love that so much about him. It's kind of a rare thing in the world of college professors.

"How are the rest of your classes, Rachel?" Good lord, he is starting with casual conversation. Wait, wait! I remember hearing about this! Start with nice stuff, break the bad news about cancer, and then end positive. The dismal news will be brought to me with a very serious tone and whatnot in mere moments. I actually let out a small groan of internal suffering, that caused him to quickly glance at me.

"Are you ok, Rachel?" Get yourself together, Rachel. If you are going to go down, then at least go down SEEMINGLY together. Even though I am not. At all.

"Yeah, sorry Dr. Lane. Must have been something I ate. Heh." I added the fake chuckle in hopes of. . well . .I have no idea. My mind was racing too much to be even slightly strategic at the moment.

"Um, yeah, classes are fine." He seemed to raise an eyebrow as if he was studying me. Was that concern? Or is he trying to figure out why I am failing in his class by getting me to talk about my other classes??! Sneaky bastard is totally trying to glean some info before the official interrogation. I managed to groan internally this time.

He escorted me into the faculty suite (nothing more than a door leading to a long hallways of faculty offices). His was sadly the first on our left so there was no further time buffer until my doom was pronounced. Here it is Rachel. This is the moment that began the end of my college hopes and dreams. The start of the death spiral.

He opened the door and then politely ushered me in. "Please take a seat, Rachel," he said politely, motioning to his two seater sofa. Love seat. They call it a love seat. I got more love on a full sofa, honestly, so am not sure why they call it a love seat. I mean you can't really lie down on it because it makes you bend your legs. Focus Rach! Oh my God. What is wrong with me? Sex on sofas should be the last in line of many thoughts right now!

I took a quick deep breath and lowered myself to my chair of impending execution.

_______

She seemed very jumpy. Must be something going on. When I asked about her other classes she really seemed to get quiet. I am not going to intrude, but she does seem very off-kilter. Hmm. Usually she is SO together.

I moved to my chair and sat as she settled into her seat. I couldn't help smiling as I saw her go through what seemed like a bit of a routine. Bag placed upright carefully next to her right leg. Sitting straight up in an admittedly low sofa. Love seat. Whatever it is. Her hands carefully placed on her lap and her eyes locked on me. In control but not. Hmm. Cute.

"So I wanted to talk to you about a little concern I had with . . " Was that a gasp? Did she make a sound? I raised an eyebrow and felt the need to ask again "Rachel, are you sure you are ok?"

She just nodded. Her eyes were wide. She was biting her lower lip as she stared at me waiting for me to continue. That was pretty adorable even if she seemed like she was kind of falling apart. Kind of a vulnerable image really. I know a small smile escaped my lips as I tried to refocus. I kind of like the vulnerability thing.

I am not one of those lecherous 40-something professor types who enjoy flirting with undergrads, mind you, but Rachel was admittedly very pretty in a very together kind of way. Slender body. Blonde straight slightly longer-then-shoulder-length hair. I think it had been colored. Not sure. I actually don't care as the color really works for her. She had these large light blue eyes and a very pretty smile. She dressed somewhat conservatively usually (and today was no exception: polo shirt, nice fitting jeans, jacket) and had a very sweet personality with an amazing work ethic. One of those perfect students. Unusual.

I don't always agree to be an honors thesis chair as I don't get compensated for it (I know that sounds selfish, but at some point you do run out of time in the day) but I was very open to it when Rachel asked me to do it. I knew it would be a pleasure to work with her. Her ideas were generally rather insightful and her overall approach was to work towards excellence. That's a good but rather rare combination.

Her nervous energy bottled up behind her wide open stare brought me back to the present. I cleared my throat. "Ok, well if there is anything wrong, you know you can tell me, right?" She stopped nibbling on her lip long enough to nod. That nibbling thing is a little distracting. Cute. Focus, Rob.

"Well, as I was saying, I have a small concern with your thesis." And there it was, she seemed to visibly relax. A lot. I mean a whole lot. What was going on in that pretty head of hers? She still seemed to be nervous, but at least now it wasn't DEFCON 4 anymore. Or seemingly. She and I were on different planes, with around some 25 years age difference between us. I cannot read women well my own age. I have quite a few exhibits illustrating that point. Knock 25 years off a woman's age and I definitely am at a disadvantage. That said, she definitely seemed less tense, at least for the moment.

"So I really like where you are going, but I am concerned about the lit you have chosen . . . " These types of issues are pretty much always present with undergrads. Not a big deal really. I usually like having this sort of conservation face-to-face as I find that email based explanations and guidance just don't seem to be able to cut it, especially for more difficult-to-grasp ethereal concepts like this one.

As I explained a bit more about what was expected and how she should go about fixing the issue, her smile returned, slightly more relaxed. Women still confuse me. I really have no idea what is going on in that head.

________

I am not failing!! Woohoo! I am doing an internal touchdown celebration pose. Oh my God I feel like I am at the end of a dentist visit now. No, thats not enough. Maybe I just crossed a marathon finish line because I feel exhausted dealing with all of that anxiety. Doesn't matter. I KNOW what is going on now. I can deal with what is known. I can make plans. I can execute plans. I am the plan girl. I can totally do this! Hell, I am already formulating a plan to HAVE a plan to have this done by 8:00 am EST tomorrow morning. That's the plan!

Dammit Lane you scared the shit out of me! I maintained my smile and actually tried to listen as he explained the small issue. That's right people: small issue!! Rach, you rock again! I am the calendar princess. I never miss deadlines. Dad drilled that into my core being at a young age. You live up to expectations because that is what you do. And you work hard hard hard. That's what a good girl does. And who is a good girl? Rach. Damned straight. So me missing a deadline is both scarier than hell and very unlikely.

I watched Lane meander through his ideas as my heart rate slowed to an almost regular pace. I found my eyes focusing on his. He has nice eyes. Thoughtful. Deep. Kind. The sort of eyes that are not too intense but are quite captivating. He usually wears glasses but because he wasn't reading he had them in his hand, occasionally waving them around as he spoke. I found myself smiling a bit as I looked at him. I really liked. Dr. Lane.

And then my eyes dropped to his lips. I always liked his smile in class but closer up I found myself staring at his lips moving . .. Nice lips. Hmm. Really nice lips. His wife or girlfriend or whoever is lucky. I imagine those soft lips are nice kissers really. I like kissing. No ring on his right hand. Girlfriend maybe. Is he a soft kisser? Or does he do the hard kissing. The passionate devouring kind . . .

Rach, focus! Damn, I dodged a bullet earlier but if I don't focus then I am going to have a real problem later.

"So I hope that makes sense?" he almost asked rhetorically and then continued "Really, you only have maybe an hour or two of adjustments and then we can proceed in making some changes to the organization of this middle section. The flow doesn't feel right."

Ok, so now my elation at not failing is fizzling as I hear about MORE adjustments to the paper. I am a pretty good writer, dammit! Maybe Lane just likes to have things his way. And he is in charge. Who cares if Rach nailed it the first time, huh? It needs to be HIS way. Friggin professors. Some are such control freaks.

Ok, I suppose that's ok. Makes sense. His name is on this paper too. And he knows what he is doing. And he has nice lips. Wait what??? He has GOOD IDEAS. Rach, what the hell is wrong with you????!!

Breathe in, breathe out, refocus. There, I am focused on his words again. Not his lips. Which incidentally are nice lips. I rolled my eyes at the internal Rach getting constantly distracted. And then he stopped talking. And he looked at me intensely. Oh. My. God. I am pretty sure he thought that eye rolling thing was directed at him. Yeah, that isn't pretty sure, that's a definite. I smiled very nervously keeping my eyes directly locked on his. Please don't think I was being disrespectful, Lane!

________

Was she just being disrespectful??!! Does she disagree with my analysis? Maybe she thinks she could do better. I found my fingers squeezing my pen reflexively. Tightly. Call me a control freak but when I have an idea of how things should be done, I expect to be listened to, especially by a twenty year old, no matter how pretty/ adorable she is.

I expected this kind of crap from grad students who are delusional in thinking that they already know everything, but not from my undergrads. It's actually why I liked teaching undergrads: they usually just do as I say. I don't mind a healthy disagreement every once in awhile but in this case I am decidedly correct and she is not.

"Is there anything wrong with my thoughts, Rachel?" I evenly asked, keeping my voice calm, but feeling a bit stern. I found a bit of anger welling up in me. This is unusual. Maybe she is having a bad day, but she does not need to be ignoring her professor. Stay calm, Rob. Even if she is thinking that she is right, she is young and naive. She needs you to lead her.

She quickly and enthusiastically shook her head. "I am sorry Dr. Lane if it looked like . well I am sorry that . . I am TOTALLY listening and agree with EVERYTHING .. not that you NEED me to agree .. cause you know you are. . well. . you . . I . . um .. I am sorry . . " Her words flew out of her mouth so quickly. That didn't appease me.

Are those tears?? Is she crying?? Her eyes are welling up with tears. And a few drops are streaming. Please for the love of God do not cry in my office. I cannot take that at all. This is why I am not married, I cannot for the life of me understand women.

_______

Tears were forming. I couldn't hold them back. I really liked Lane. He is so smart and nice. And now he is mad at me! Shit shit shit! I CANNOT stand to disappoint people. As much as I control my life, nothing makes me feel more out of control than having someone I respect be disappointed. You fucked up Rach. Dammit!

What can I do to convince him that his ideas are important to me? That I respect him? Physically show him that I value his insight! I lean forward as the panic resurfaces. My fingers pull a little at the legs of my jeans. I am trying to show how I am hanging on every word, nodding nearly non-stop.

"Dr. Lane, I appreciate you spending. . so .. um. . your time. .I appreciate you giving me your time and I am TOTALLY going . . .no .. I am definitely going to make the changes you suggested . .and . .um. . "

He just stared at me. A little darkly. I have never seen that look before. The pervasive panic has returned! Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap. I am so unbelievably scared of what he is thinking that the tears really start to form.

________

Ok, I am confused. Is she going to take my direction or not? Her eyes say one thing but her lips say something else. I mean what the hell am I doing here? Maybe I should stop this whole chairing undergrad theses thing.

I sighed. Rather loudly.

"Look Rachel if you disagree with something I would like to hear about it."

My fingers were gripping my pen again as I stared at this girl who seemingly is trying to keep from falling apart in my office. I cannot take women crying in my office. Or men really. So the final verdict is that I definitely do not like for anyone to cry in my office. I should post a sign on my door about that. Maybe I could head off these types of incidents at the pass.

She shook her head so hard that her locks started spinning around her head. "No sir! Everything you said. . will .. um .make my paper . .like my paper will be perfect with your. . suggested changes."

She looked like she had difficulty breathing. Her eyes were coated in tears. Poor girl. She must be having a very bad day. Fine, fine, she is such a good student and all of this is very unusual for her. I need to calm her down.

I stared at her for a moment, her being so incredibly vulnerable, so needy, so very submissive really. I actually felt this rising need to protect her somehow. She obviously needed me, someone with experience and knowledge and the right kind of temperament to help her. She needed someone strong where she was weak. I could be that person. I could be the one who leads her. Where is this coming from? My fingers started to twitch a bit as if in anticipation.

She was obviously upset and I wanted her to stop and for her to know that she would be fine. I wanted to take control really. Interesting. I actually kind of hungered for it. I needed it.

I wanted her to be calm and quiet knowing that she would be fine. So without even thinking I just quietly said, "good girl." Which had the decidedly opposite effect of what I was shooting for.

__________

Oh. My. God. Again. His eyes were looking intensely right at me. His expression serious but somewhat gentle. His voice rumbled the words out. Deep. Vibrating. My mouth got dry all of a sudden. The way those two words escaped from his lips. How could he go from scary to sexy all in one second??!!

My tummy flipped like five times. Make that six. I desperately wanted him to say those words again. And again. And again. And I don't know why. What the hell????? It was like a trigger . .and now I needed to please him. .and I needed to know that I pleased him. Warmth spread from my core to my toes and fingertips. This has never happened before. I wanted him to be satisfied with my actions, my words, and simply me. Even the unspoken and hidden me needed his approval. I wanted him to be comfortable with all of me. All in a near split second. It's like my body and mind kicked into auto pilot. And I totally wanted it to be there.

He raised an eyebrow at my expression, my pause, but he remained in such control. He was calm where I felt nothing but panic. He was strong where I was feeling such weakness. His face was somewhat passive, but his eyes staring right at me, trying to read me. Or through me. I felt naked in front of him. I felt no control. At all.

I found my eyes drawn to his lips, wanting to relive those words being whispered. To me. My fingers locked in front of me on my lap and I tried, but failed to remain composed. Is it warm in here? I am burning up.

I instinctively wanted to look around but I could not move my eyes from him. I could not for the life of me take my eyes off of his lips. What the hell is wrong with me?

I watched as his expression changed from composed confusion to slight curiosity. He was reading me. I felt so unbelievably naked at that moment. Oh my God.

________

She looked like a trapped rabbit. Eyes wide. Breathing quickly. And with an expression that seemed to mix fear with. . what is that. .desire? Could it be desire? Maybe I am reading it wrong. No way some beautiful 20 year old was going to get hot and bothered by a 45 year old. But in Rob's fantasy world it was a pretty delicious thought.

All I said was "good girl" and it seemed to flip a switch. She was just upset, seemingly, because she didn't want me to think she was ignoring me. I think. She is a people pleaser of sorts, so that is no surprise no matter what really is going on in her head. But then it flipped when I said it. And now she looked fearful, but a different fear. And the layer of desire. I think she even licked her lips. Holy crap. I love it when women lick their lips. And look at me that way. Mostly because it never happens, well except in my head.