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“Can I use the restroom?”
“Of course.” I step back to give her room but reach out and pull her to me when she passes. I press my lips to hers and kiss her deeply and passionately. When she closes the bathroom door, I want her thinking about what I’m going to do to her body.
I imagine she’s having an internal conversation with herself like I am, only different. Whereas, I’m anticipating undressing her and exploring every inch of her body, I am also thinking about how young she is. She’s twenty-four. I’m thirty. She’s probably a student going back to school. I’m a professor going to teach students like her. I’ve never slept with a student even though it's not illegal or theoretically immoral. Most college-age students are legal adults and past the age of consent.
I shake the thought out of my head. Tonight, she will be my student, and I'm going to teach her a few lessons. The first will be that when she has sex, she’s allowed to demand satisfaction. Tonight she’ll experience it.
She walks out of the bathroom with flushed cheeks. A droplet of water hangs onto the fringe of her bangs.
“I’m going to order food. Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Yes, I may need it.” There's a slight modulation to her voice.
I thread my fingers through hers and pull her to the bed hoping to calm her nerves. She sits stiffly beside me while I reach for the phone and the room service menu.
“Wine and what else?” I peruse the options and decide on a burger. There’s no place in England that serves a bacon cheeseburger like the United States. It’s all in the bacon.
“I’ll have what you’re having.” She flops back onto the mattress with her feet dangling off the side.
It takes me seconds to place the call, and when I’m finished, I lie down beside her and turn my body toward her. “They say it will be an hour. That means we have time to get to know each other better. Tell me about yourself.” I rest my hand on her bare midriff. Her skin is like fine-spun silk.
She turns, and my hand moves to sit on her hip where her skirt sits low on the widest part.
“What do you want to know?”
“Are you a student?”
“More or less. This is my final semester. I’ve got one class and an internship to finish.” She wiggles her body up the bed and her skirt pulls lower to show the lace band of her pink panties.
“What’s your field of study?” I trace the edge of the lace with my index finger, dipping it under the elasticized band.
“Molecular Biology.” She says it like she's studying business or journalism, and not one of the hardest fields of study to get a degree.
“Wow. That’s impressive.”
“It’s how my brain works. I’m terrible with the arts, but math and sciences, or anything practical involving equations is my thing. What about you?”
I let out a low chuckle. “I’m in the arts.”
Her eyes grow big. “Of course you are. The only man in the airport I’m super attracted to, and he has to be from another intellectual planet.”
“No more talk of work and school. I don’t want your head in class when it should be free to relax and enjoy. How about a bath?”
I rock myself to a sitting position and stand. She’s draped across the bed like a goddess. All I really want to do is drop to my knees and taste her. If she tastes anything like she smells, I won’t be interested in eating anything else but her.
“Are you going to join me?” She lowers her head and looks at me from under her bangs.
“I’m going to spoil you, run you a bath, and wait for dinner to arrive.” I lean over her and kiss her. Not too deep and not too light. Just enough to make us both want more.
It would be so easy to forget that she’s not a woman who has experienced the pleasures of good sex. When she leaves this room tomorrow, I want her pussy sore, and a smile on her face all the way to Denver. She’ll know what it’s like to be worshipped, and her bar should be set higher for future encounters.
I rub my hand up her thigh just to the edge of her skirt, then turn around and walk into the bathroom. Once the water is the perfect temperature, I squeeze the bottle of shower gel under the stream and watch the bubbles grow.
She saunters into the bathroom and leans against the black granite counter. “No one has ever drawn me a bath.”
“Sweetheart, I’m pretty sure no man has done a lot of the things I plan to do to you tonight.” I skim my fingers under the band of her top. “Can I undress you?”
She nods, and I go to work removing her clothes. I pull her shirt over her head and watch her breasts spill over a pink, strapless lace bra.
