It had always been there, these little unorthodox butterflies that floated around and made me feel like jelly when I was around him. But recently he had been overly talkative and attentive towards me, and I guess like all the fantasies would suggest, that definitely made me feel something more.
It wasn't even obvious to those around us, and there was a strong chance I was imagining the reciprocation, but it was exciting. And the daydreams had only recently become more and more x-rated when I had leant over the table to take a biscuit at our weekly meeting for work. I had brushed against his leg, and rather than moving away to make room for me like most would, he stood fast. He smiled at me, through the glasses that gave him a sophisticated edge, and I felt myself grow weaker.
Then it continued, when I thought my over-active brain had summoned up a flirtatious gesture that never happened, he made a comment about my body. A comment too specific to ignore. Not vulgar, or obvious or anything but noticeable. In a classic office conversation where another girls chest was in question as to whether it would fit in a particular dress, I made my usual retort about not having any chest whatsoever and how shitty it was. He took me in his gaze and let his eyes wander down to my chest whilst I clearly looked at him, smiled gently and muttered, “I wouldn't say so.”
I found his manner mesmerising. The way he commanded an entire room by saying nothing at all - but equally matching that with social awkwardness and nervous behaviour that made him adorable too. He couldn't quite be around me, but when he was it was undeniably sexy.
His vocabulary was endless, the intelligence was there for sure.
I would get carried away when he sat down or smiled, my imagination would start to wander to scenarios I hoped for. He had those kinds of hands that as soon as they rested on his knee, I ached to feel them on my hips or holding me by the throat. Then I would blink hard as I snap myself out of the daydream.
—
One day we had been at an intense work meeting and as per usual went to the pub afterwards for a celebratory pint. This particular trip, he had sunk a few pints and he was overly chatty. He smoothed over topics like stock markets and astronomy, like a professional as always. Every so often he caught my eye and when I wasn't looking, his gaze dropped to my neck or my mouth, like he was hungry for something he wouldn't admit. If I caught him, the gaze would snap back up to meet mine and an ever too innocent smile crept over his face.
It went on like this for an hour, him barely speaking and seemingly very interested in every word that left me. Then at one moment, he seemed to shift in his seat, and then muttered something about the bathroom. I sat in silence, only just noticing as he walked away my undeniable warmth and that familiar wet feeling seeping from between my legs. The thoughts ran over my head, 'we have only been talking, about ordinary subjects too,' but nevertheless, my body was clearly in tune with something raw and subliminal he was giving off.
When he returned, he sat next to me coolly and just sipped on his pint, as I hastily downed my third glass of wine. My lips felt warm, and deliberate as I stumbled over words, intoxicated by the wine I had been consuming. He just smiled every time I vocally fumbled around. Something in that smile made my insides still. Then without warning, he reached across to wipe a bead of wine off of my chin. My face flushed with embarrassment and heat, and he smiled softly.
“I'll miss you when our department moves,” his voice broke through my silence, and I smiled at him
“I’ll miss you too.”
I felt his fingers beneath the table press into my knee gently, he never broke eye contact once. I bit back a whimper that would have given all my dignity away. I was shocked at how smooth he seemed in his confidence. The man who barely said a word.
In the middle of the pub, he gently swept my hair from my neck, looking hungry as my skin was exposed. With his right hand holding the back of my neck gently and his left sliding slowly up my inner thigh, he bent in for a long passionate kiss against my throat. The warmth of his mouth on my bare skin made me shiver and gasp unexpectedly.
He pulled away after what seemed an intensely blissful eternity only to take my hand, down the rest of his beer and lead me to his car silently. I was in a trance, his hands, so strong, held mine firmly, making me feel weak and submissive to him.
Once in the car, he looked at me with an innocent smile
"Are you okay? You seem... dazed."
I swallowed hard, my thighs quivering, "Yes, I'm okay, professor," and immediately bit my lip as I uttered the nickname I so loved to give him. He wasn't my professor, in any way shape or form, but he was a teacher and leader of sorts, and it filled my head with all the fantasies I'd felt for weeks whenever I called him that in my head.
He smiled a perfectly dirty smile and put the car into gear. "Alright then..."
Back at his empty house, I began to panic. We had worked together for a while but never had we got to this. He seemed to sense my apprehension, "This won't make work weird, I promise."
For some reason - I believed every word that he uttered. He led me inside. I didn't feel so confident around him inside his house though. He seemed to have become more serious. Was he nervous too?
Almost as if he had read my mind or I'd spoken aloud my thoughts, he pulled me towards him by my wrist, drew me into him slowly, with the most delicious smile on his face. He kissed me gently, his tongue touching mine cautiously but almost like he was teasing me into submission. I shook beneath his touch, his passionate kisses tearing down my inhibitions and making my mind still for the first time ever it felt. I was so lost in his kiss I barely noticed his fingers running through my hair, tracing my collar bone tentatively before feeling them pulling at my top and bra straps. He eased them down over my shoulders and continued to pull them down past my elbows In a deliberate manner.
The air was cold, and my nipples stood on end in the new atmosphere they had encountered. His lips still hadn't parted from my own, and his hands just held my fingertips, like he was clinging on for dear life. Suddenly a wash of consciousness swept over me. A million thoughts clouded my brain.
I was hardly obviously beautiful, into piercings and not exactly fit. My nipple bars pushed forward as goosebumps studded my skin everywhere. I was aware my chest was nothing to be marvelled at, just less than handfuls at best. I'd never been overly petite or skinny, and I'd always hated my body.
I broke away from his perfect lips and immediately clutched at my own chest to hide my imperfections. He said nothing but smiled at me , returning his gaze to my eyes as if it was an addiction. His mouth returned to mine and moved down to my neck again - that sweet spot that melted my core.
He spun me round gently, and allowed his kisses to consume me, relaxing me again as I gasped and softly moaned whilst his hands slide up my sides and stroked my arms. Naturally, I let go of my chest, and his hands quickly found them. His warm hands cupped beneath them spreading his warmth all over my breasts, feeling them slowly, letting his thumb and forefinger toy with my nipple piercings, testing how resistant they were with gentle tugs on my nipples. All the while I moaned and felt my clit pulse between my thighs, and a familiar hard pressure point pushed into the curve of my glutes, which I instinctively moved to feel.