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I bit my finger to keep from laughing. The student reminded Foster where he was, and Foster continued, but his gaze kept drifting back to me and my open legs.
I decided to tease him a bit, so I slid my hand between my legs and played with myself. I couldn’t believe what had come over me, but every time I was in Foster’s presence I had to touch myself. It was torture not to. I got so hot and swollen it was uncomfortable if I didn’t.
I just touched myself lightly, playing with the folds, and I could see Foster was noticing. His jaw was clenched really tight and his hands were white fists as he wrote out another problem on the board.
“You know what?” Foster stopped writing the problem. “It’s Wednesday. That’s almost Friday. Let’s call it a day.” Foster dropped the dry erase marker and turned to the class. A murmur of surprise and excitement erupted. Professors never canceled class. There was still half the time left, but Foster assured everyone that it was just a little Wednesday surprise.
“Go and enjoy your day,” Foster said. “Be sure to finish your reading.” His gaze shot to mine, dark and leonine.
I felt victorious.
* * *
As the last of the class filed out to enjoy their newly free Wednesday morning, Foster shut the door and locked it behind them. We had about thirty minutes before the next class came to use the space. I walked up to him, drawn like a moth to a flame.
“What the fuck was that?” Foster asked, pulling me in to him.
“What?” I asked coyly, feigning innocence.
“Are you trying to get me fired?” Foster grabbed me by the arms and spun me around so that I was pressed up against the whiteboard. He grabbed my hair and pushed it to one side. I felt his hot breath on my skin as he placed lingering kisses up and down my neck. “Because next time you do that I’ll pull you out of your seat and fuck you in front of everyone.”
“Promise?” I asked, my voice breathy from his kisses and being pressed up against the board.
“Oh…” Foster laughed low in his throat and spun me back around so that I faced him. He caged me with one arm on either side of my head. “You’ll ruin me, Nora. My beautiful…” Foster pushed his body in to mine, forcing me hard against the board. I felt him, his cock hard like a steel pole against my stomach.
“My devious…” He placed his palm on my belly and slowly slid it under the waist of my skirt.
I tilted my head back as his hand met the bare, secret skin beneath. There was no space behind me so my head had to grind against the board, but the pain was a welcome distraction from his torturously slow pace.
As Foster entered me, I had several crystal clear thoughts.
This isn’t just sex anymore.
I love this man.
I’m totally fucked.
6
Hooky
I asked Rachael to stay up with me on Thursday and we spent the night getting drunk and watching eighties movies. Something about John Hughes always made me feel better.
Rachael bought string and we braided friendship bracelets like we were still in high school, except we both knew we weren’t. I was having an affair with my professor and Rachael was guzzling wine like it was water. By the third bottle we were too drunk to separate the strings and had to stop braiding. I leaned back into the couch with a sigh, watching Molly Ringwald with fascination. Even in her insecurity, she seemed so sure of herself.
“I can’t believe this is happening to me,” I whined.
“I know,” Rachael said, taking a bite of the brownies we’d made earlier. “I mean, you of all people. I thought you would work all through college and be one of those boring people who had no stories to tell. But sleeping with your professor? That’s pretty metal.”
I grabbed a pillow and groaned in to it. “Not helping.”
“Oh come on, Nora.” Rachael snatched the pillow out of my hand. “It’s one thing to have a fling with your professor, and another to stop acting like yourself.”
I squinted at her. “Huh?”
Rachael huffed. “The Nora I knew wouldn’t let a problem stop her. She would solve it and make it her bitch.”
Smiling briefly at her choice of words, I explained my predicament. “I think I love him, Rach.”
