Sunday Fantasy

For those who don’t follow me on Twitter, I’ve outlined my goals for the month remaining til my birthday. Here’s an old, unedited story that represents a top fantasy of mine while I taught. Figured it warranted a repost on this lazy Sunday.

Celeste scanned the lecture hall when she entered and found him in the back. Ethan had his jean-clad long legs stretched out on the chair in front of him, as nonchalant as usual. His tight long-sleeved shirt stretched over his broad chest and dark hair mussed just right made him look utterly sexy. Too damn sexy and so off-limits for her.

But the attraction between them had escalated. Looks had progressed to casual touches and sexual banter in class. Ethan had cornered after class once, his expression intense as he’d asked for an extension on a paper. The room seemed to shrink as he’d pressed in close, his scent swamping her, her mouth agreeing to any and everything. He raided her dreams each night since then, seducing and staking the claim his blue eyes always promised he would. Her clothes had gotten tighter and shorter over the last few months all for him.

He caught her stare and one black eyebrow lifted. A smile curled his lips, but she looked away before she read the challenge that always appeared in his eyes. All the way to the podium she lectured herself on how it wasn’t professional to fool around with students. Her usual mantra didn’t quell the wild pulse that had started between her thighs. Same as usual, but she could handle it.

Throughout class she felt his eyes roaming over her body. Most student appeared to listen as she lectured on cell biology, but his gaze was like a physical thing. She could feel his eyes brush over her face, caress her breasts as they pushed against the front of her sweater with each breath, or linger on her ass cupped by her pencil skirt when she turned toward the board. A skirt she’d worn for him, her mind needled.

“Alright,” Celeste turned toward the class, brushing chalk from her palms, “Easy question folks. Tell me the importance of ATP and I’ll let you all go.”

Her question produced silence. A frustrated breath hissed from between her teeth as she waited to pry an answer from these kids. These were the moments where she questioned her chosen profession.

Walking around to the front of the desk, she propped her hip up on the podium desk unaware of how her skirt rode up her thigh. “Come on, we discussed this already. ATP is what?”

Bodies shifted, but no one answered. Blank looks as usual. Celeste rolled her eyes and exhaled prepared to answer just to end the tortuous silence.

“Energy. It’s a big part of cell metabolism.” The deep, sensuous sound of his voice made her body tingle. Her breath caught in her chest.

She met his eyes and nodded slowly. “Yes, Ethan, that’s…”

His feet hit the ground with a thud and he leaned forward, his eyes drilling into hers. “It’s what gets the cell going, what it needs to move and feel good.”

The innuendo in his tone made her swallow. Refusing to show how his erotic words unsettled her, Celeste turned to address the class. “Everyone thank Ethan for saving you from the ten page paper you would have written on ATP.” An excited murmur went up. She waited a beat before continuing deadpan. “But the five-page paper on the topic will be due next week anyway.”

Their collective groan made her smile as they gathered their books to leave. It would be hell grading their work, but at least she could gauge whether they were getting anything. If they were getting anything, that is. She sat behind the podium desk trying to push away melancholy thoughts as she piled papers into her briefcase.

It was silent when the lecture door clicked shut after the last of the students. Celeste glanced up by chance and bit back as gasp. Ethan waited there, a shoulder against the wall, patient expectation on his face. Her movements slowed as the weight of his gaze settled on her again. The air was suddenly too thick to breathe in, her blood sluggish. That heavy pulse beat between her thighs even as she schooled her features.

“Professor Crites?” Even addressing her so formal sounded intimate and her nipples tightened instinctively.

Celeste sucked in a ragged breath before answering, “Ethan. Can I help you?”

The breathy sound of her voice was telling. Damn him, she thought as he pushed away from the door. Damn her more accurately as her eyes watched him move closer. His long limbed grace made her ache with the need to feel him pumping inside her. He would be glorious, taking her with a finesse that would sate her only to arouse her again. She barely stifled a moan.

He walked up to her chair, forcing her to swivel to face him. With her sitting he towered over her. She was level with his waist and she couldn’t help locking on to the bulge in his jeans. An instant picture of his cock in her mouth popped unbidden into her mind. Oh, God.

“Can you?” Ethan’s words were a husky whisper that trickled across her skin.

She lifted her eyes to his and knew she was in trouble. Propriety melted like ice in the face of such raw desire. She’d call herself all kinds of names later, but right now she wanted him.

Reaching out a trembling hand, she tugged at his button, but he grasped her wrist stopping her. The touch of his palm on her skin was electric, racing up her arm and right to her clit.

“I get to be in charge, Prof.” He pulled her to his feet and into his arms.

From one breath to the next his mouth was on hers, ravishing her lips and reducing her to liquid. All the pent-up frustration, weeks of suppressed desire, and nights of erotic dreams exploded through her. The way he tasted as his tongue slid into her mouth was so much better than she’d imagined. More, she needed more.

She was ravenous, her mouth and body demanding, but he refused to let her be in control no matter how much she dueled with him. His arm clamped around her waist and the other hand wound through her hair effectively holding her still.

She felt the desk at the back of her thighs, too caught up to even think about how easily he maneuvered her where he wanted her. He pressed her back until she lay flat on the desk, panting and dazed.

Air hit her legs as he rucked up her skirt. His eyes gazed at her lace covered pussy for a moment before he tugged at the band, ripping them in half. Celeste didn’t have a chance to protest the destruction, the sound of his zipper lowering distracted her. She watched as he pushed his jeans and boxers down his thighs, her eyes riveted to his cock as it jutted into the air. He wrapped his hand around the shaft and pumped up and down once. Wetness dripped from her slit in anticipation.

“Open your shirt.”

Her hands moved to the buttons at his demand, fumbling to undo the tiny buttons. She pushed open the sides revealing her bra-covered breasts. Without being told, she pushed down the cups. Her berry colored nipples popped over the top, both hard points.

“Touch them.” The words came out a tortured groan that sizzled along her already aroused nerve endings.

She cupped her breasts and brushed her thumbs across the peaks. Her eyes slid closed at the sensation, but flew up again when his cock brushed her opening. She spread her legs, begging wordlessly for him to take her, her fingers tugging restlessly at her nipples. He just continued to tease her. A brush over her clit, down between her sopping wet lips, and then back up. Over and over until she shook with need.

“Please.” She didn’t care how desperate she sounded.

The plea barely left her lips before her parted her and plunged deep. Her body took him, held him, cradled him. Her back arched and she moaned in pleasure. Weeks of waiting and the first slide into her body made her wild. It was overwhelming in its intensity, the way he stretched her so.

He retreated until only the head rested between her lips, gripped her hips tight, and plunged in again. The both watched, eyes riveted on his cock as it disappeared inside her, emerging wet with her juices Before it reversed its course. She played at her breasts, moaning with each thrust. Her eyes blurred as she let him take her where she knew she shouldn’t go. But, God, was it good to finally go there with him.

6 comments

I like it when you talk to me

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s