Dirty Professor (8 page)

"Make them bounce."

I move up and down a little, making my breasts bounce, and Chase reaches up to grab my nipples. I lose myself in his touch-- the way he fondles me sends almost as much electricity through me as when he makes me come.

I rub against his dick for awhile, enjoying the slippery feeling, until Chase reaches down and moves himself to enter me.

I sit down around him, taking in the tip and slowly enveloping his shaft. Was I a virgin less than a week ago? How is that possible? Because this feels like the most natural thing in the universe.

I glide up and down, following his cues. "Slow, baby," he instructs me. I move from base to tip, gripping him, until he can't take anymore and tells me to go a little faster. I enjoy speeding up and slowing down again when he demands it.

"Faster," he commands. "And don't stop. Don't stop."

I rock back and forth until my knees are screaming, but I don't stop. I can't get enough of his expression-- he looks so blissed out, like he's never known how amazing this is. His eyes roll back in his head, and his panting might be the best thing I've ever heard.

"That's it," he huffs. "Keep fucking me."

I hear the slap before I feel it. He spanks me as I bounce on him, and then does it again, harder.

I feel his dick shove into me over and over, and he moves with me, so hard that our skin slaps together and then finally he cries out and whips himself out of me. "Grab it!"

I clasp his wet cock between my hands as the first ribbons of white splash onto me. I feel Chase's essence land on my stomach, and ease my grip on him as more warmth splatters onto my hands.

"My God." Chase's chest heaves, and I collapse forward onto him, my face in his neck.

"I'm sorry I got an attitude," I whisper, and he runs his fingers through my hair.

C
HASE

I
wonder
what Addison's dorm looks like. Probably small and shitty. That thought pops into my head during my workout this morning, and I'm not sure why. I'm seized by the following thought that if I really want to know, I'll have to ask her to take a picture, because no way can I risk being seen going to her dorm. Out of the question.

She spent the night with me at the Promenade. I wonder what lie she told her friend Kensie.

I've seen her once more this weekend, at my house again on Sunday. She came over and I think she wanted to talk about Bryce Bowker-- she asked about my book more than once, looking worried. But I told her it's fine, and I haven't made any decisions yet, and started unzipping her jeans, and she forgot about my book.

God damn, I love spanking her. I didn’t go as hard as I wanted to, because I know I have to ease her into it. But I can’t get enough of her. My cock has been rock hard whenever she’s not around, thinking about the bright red handprints I’m leaving all over tight little ass. I wonder if she’ll be able to sit down in class.

The morning fog this Tuesday is dreary and gross, but burns off into sun by the afternoon. I think about holding class outside somewhere, but I don't want to make my students read their work in front of other students who might happen by. I'm finding myself actually intrigued by their progress, and curious as to how their stories will shape up. I came here not really caring one way or the other, if I'm honest. I just needed to concentrate on Bryce Bowker without the unwanted attention I usually get. But this is a good group, despite some of the more milennial-sounding shit. And despite the way they've edged Addison out.

I watch her as she enters our classroom, in a tight pair of jeans and a long-sleeved pink t-shirt, her skin fresh and dewy. Her shirt hugs those pert little tits of hers, and I remember them bouncing above me at the Promenade.

Fuck.

Now I’m hard.

She's the last one again, but still before three, so she's good on that score. I notice the others' reactions when she takes her seat. Most don't look at her, except Tommy Chen, who looks like he feels bad. I focus on Luna and Emme. Smug smiles. I don't know who posted the photo of everyone having a grand old time at Taco Tavern or wherever it was, but I'm betting it was one of those two.

I begin today's class by asking about books we've been reading, and discussion dominated by Emme and Luna flows, but Addison remains still, eyes poised on the papers in front of her. When I ask the group to read their work, I have to bring her into it. "Addison? You've been quiet so far. Let's hear from you first."

Her hair is pulled back today, in one of those top knot bun things, with tresses spilling down. She looks effortlessly beautiful, and I have to make myself look utterly disinterested in anything but her writing.

"I'd never had sex before. I mean, sure, I'd messed around with guys, including a night at Cannon Beach with the waves lapping in the background and the sun dropping into the ocean like anyone's ideal scenario would go. But I didn't then-- go all the way, that is. I jerked Brady off-- the guy from the baseball game, whose little brother played against mine, remember him? Well, I gave him my number when you weren't watching me, and... oh, that time I went to meet Maddie at the movies? That was Brady. Sorry, not sorry. And then we ended up at the beach, and I finished him off, and then he went to college and forgot me, and I went to college and tried to forget home and everything about it. And when I met Court, I almost did forget."

She goes on, reading about how intimidating this guy Court was, and how spellbound her character is by his presence. Court hasn't appeared in her story until now. A star athlete, an Olympic swimmer-- where did that come from? But Addison has improved, no doubt about it.

Her writing is so good that I can’t help feel a little jealous of this imaginary Court person, the way she describes him. I tell myself it’s because of her writing, not because I’m starting to get feelings for her. But it’s still unnerving.

Addison comes to her stopping point and bites her lip in uncertainty, waiting for the first commentary. Or, as I'm sure she's expecting, the first assailant.

"Court is named after the guy in The Man in the Moon," Addison adds. "I love that movie."

"I love it too." Emme's agreement is soft-spoken, but it's there.

"Better." Tommy nods slowly, like he's still thinking about Addison's words. "Way better."

"Really?!" Addison lights up, and I have to hold myself in check not to laugh. She's too cute for this class.

"I agree," I say. Her eyes meet mine and she smiles for what might be the first time in this classroom. "Definitely felt more emotion there. I like how she sounds almost angry, kind of justified in whatever it is she's done. Kind of vindicated."

Addison nods in enthusiasm. "She is."

"I can't wait to find out how that unfolds."

"She's talking
to
someone," Emme observes. "That's new."

"It sounds almost like a journal," Tommy puts in.

After the whole class gives input except for Luna, I have to prompt her. "Luna," I say. "Can you give us your thoughts?"

"Eh." Luna shrugs, picking at her nail polish, which is blood red today. "I couldn't tell where she was going with it."

To her credit, Addison doesn't let her shoulders slump, or pull a face, or start crying or something. She doesn't roll her eyes. She just smiles and says "That's okay. I know where I'm going with it."

"Sorry," Luna retorts, her tone indicating she's not at all. "I just couldn't really follow what you were doing there. It didn't grab me."

"All right, Luna," I say. "There's plenty of time--"

"I'm happy with it." Addison's voice is calm, totally in control. "So far, at least."

"Good for you."

"What is your problem?" Addison keeps her voice level, but clearly can't let this go unchecked anymore.

"I don't know." Luna looks somewhere between annoyed and surprised to be called out so directly. "Your writing? Your skill level?"

"My
skill
level?"

"Okay, you know what? I'm just going to say it. I've been holding my tongue, but if you want to know, we can take it there. I don't get how you got into this group."

Addison flinches. I'm sure she knew that was coming, but hearing it like that has to suck. I should save her. "Luna--"

"Sorry, Chase, but it's the truth. I thought this course was for
serious
writers."

"What makes you think I'm not serious?" Addison's face is a storm cloud now. So much for the calm and collected look.

"You sashay in here with your sorority self and your Chanel bag and you don't have the talent. Not that I can see."

"I'm not in a sorority," Addison shoots back. "I like my Chanel bag, and who the hell made you the judge of who has talent and who doesn't?"

"I’ve been listening to your work for a few classes now."

"And I've had to listen to yours."

"Had to?"

"I might be in the minority on this, but your writing isn't my cup of tea. But I'm not trying to get
your
seat at this table reconsidered. So why are you doing that to me?"

"Do you know how many contests I've won?" Luna's completely irate now. Addison might as well have insulted her firstborn. "Sorry it isn't your cup of tea, but people tell me they're blown away by my writing."

"Blown away by what? How whiny it is?"

"Whiny?!"

"It comes off that way, yeah."

"It's better than anything you've ever written, or will ever write. Let me tell you what your shit sounds like, just so you'll know." Luna adopts a dramatic, overtly feminine pose. "Hi I'm Addison, and I'm so perfect. Oh my God. How did I get here? I'm majoring in business, because I love my daddy, and I could give two shits about the actual art."

Addison's face registers shock, but then she swallows. "Okay," she says. "Let me show you what
you
sound like, Luna. 'Fuck my life! I hate the world! Sad. Tears. Slash. Wrists. Ouch. Beautiful. Black. I. Space. Words. Out. So. They. Sound. More. Dramatic. Waaahhh emo emo EMO!'"

"Fuck you!"

"There's never any problem mentioned to warrant that suicidal woe-is-me shit!" Addison yells. "If there was an actual fucking
problem
to make someone feel like that, then sure, but you have yet to fucking present one."

Okay, I have to break this up now. I’ve watched in shock with everyone else long enough. "Ladies!" I say. "Both of you. Enough."

"I'm done." Luna gathers her books in a huff. "No worries, Chase. I'm gone for today." Addison watches in silence as Luna pushes back from her chair and stands up. "It's insulting that she's in here."

Addison just shakes her head. Luna stomps out the door, and Emme, who's said nothing throughout this exchange, glances around with her mouth open and then looks at the door, like she's not sure if she should follow her friend.

"Sorry for that." Addison bites her lip, then puts her papers back into her notebook. "I guess I'll go, too."

"No, no." I'm not condoning the yelling, but I don't want Addison to leave. I can’t bear the thought of her leaving, of her being upset and me not being there to comfort her. "Stay. If you can be calm. Stay, and we'll go on with class. Okay?"

She looks at all of us in turn, and since nobody's objecting, she nods. "Okay," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

I assign some freewriting, and sit quietly while they work. I notice Addison's pen scrawling, but the look on her face, the wide eyes-- definitely green now-- says she's shaken up.

I want to comfort her.

The feeling is foreign to me.

I want to comfort her, and not just because I want to have sex with her or get her naked or teach her how to take a harder spanking.

I want to comfort her because the thought of her being upset tears at me.

Don’t shit where you eat.

Fuck.

A
DDISON

"
W
hat a bitch
."

Kensie takes a big bite of her taco, listening to me vent. "And so after she walked out, I was going to leave, too, but they asked me to stay."

"So you stayed?"

"Yep."

"Good for you."

Kensie's the best. She really is. "I was rattled, but I got through the rest of class."

"Don't let them see they get to you."

I nod and hand the server my glass so she can refill my tea. "I won't. And the weird thing is, it felt good."

"I'm sure." My roommate leans back in her chair and surveys the bar, something she always does no matter where she is or who she's with. "And you were right. And now she knows you won't put up with her shit."

Sitting at the Green Tavern dumping my class issues on Kensie feels good too. I apologized twice for it, but she waved that away and insisted I bitch to my satisfaction. "I can't remember the last time I did that. Just laid into somebody."

The waitress returns with my tea, and Kensie orders dessert. While she asks for her sundae, the door opens and Chase strides in with another guy, both of them looking around at the kitsch and the license plate wall.

My breath catches in my chest. He’s wearing a dark jacket over a crisp white t-shirt and dark jeans, his hair tousled, his face smooth, with no trace of the stubble I’ve gotten used to raking over my skin while we kiss.

I’m flustered, not sure how to act.

"Chase just showed up," I tell Kensie, who immediately whips around to look.

"He's still so fucking hot,” she says. “And his friend's cute, too."

"What's he doing here?" I wonder.

"People gotta eat. I'm sure not every meal he has is catered. And he's probably scared of the dining hall now."

I manage a laugh at her gentle ribbing, but my eyes stay on Chase. I haven't told Kensie about our... whatever it is we have. I'm not sure how to talk to him here, with his friend and my friend, in one of the most popular spots in town. At first I think maybe he won't see me and I won't have to, but his eyes eventually land on me, and I think he might turn around and bolt.

The indecision slips over his face, and I can see him wrestling with what to do. Should he pretend he doesn’t know me? Or would that be even more obvious? Finally, he waves, and tugs his friend over to my table.