Office Hours Pt. 02

I squeezed his hands and shook my head.

"Come over tonight. We'll get you caught up and can have dinner together. Would you be open to that?" His thumbs brushed over my hands; his eyes were hopeful.

I stepped closer and let my forehead rest against his. "I would love that." My nose nuzzled his and with a smile, he kissed me.

He gave me his number and address, and after stealing a few more kisses, I left the office. I felt hopeful that he and I would be able to figure out our situation. I walked across campus feeling a mix of emotions. Matthew had given me the greatest pleasure of my life and knowing that he shared my feelings made me happier than I'd ever been. But I was nervous and anxious about what the evening had in store.

I showered then reached into the back of my underwear drawer for my long-lost silk thongs and chose my favorite--black, with the lace waistband. I chose a similar bra then dressed in a pair of black jeans and a soft blue V-neck sweater. I debated wearing a small amount of makeup but decided against it. I retrieved my beat-up old Honda from the school's parking garage and headed to the address he'd given me.

It was about a half hour drive from the university campus to his place. I arrived at a small, middle-class neighborhood's five story walk-up. Matthew buzzed me in, and I headed for his apartment on the third floor.

I knocked, heart pounding, anxiety settled in my stomach. Matthew opened the door and I almost swooned. He'd shaved and from the delicious scent of palo santo and citrus, he'd showered. He smiled at me and opened the door wide to grant me access.

"Thanks for inviting me," I said, suddenly feeling rather shy.

"I'm glad you're here. Come on in, make yourself at home." Matthew led me to the kitchen; his hand caressed my lower back. His fingers slowly worked their way up my spine. Gooseflesh covered my arms and I let out a shaky sigh.

"Matthew?" Our eyes met. Neither of us had the words. He touched my cheek with his fingertip, then tilted my face up to kiss me. Now, with no worries of being caught, I melted against him. No longer tentative, our mouths moved against each other's, free to explore pressures and touch.

He was first to pull back. Those blue eyes sparkled, resembling a swimming pool rippling in the sunlight.

"Everything about you feels right," he murmured, "but we have work to do."

I nodded. He gestured to the kitchen table. A thick statistics textbook sat there threateningly but was accompanied by a bottle of white wine and two glasses. I looked up at him and smiled.

"Because math makes me whine?" I laughed, raising my brows.

"Because I don't need statistics to tell you tension shortens your lifespan."

I nodded. "I can't argue with that logic."

Matthew smiled and twisted the top of the bottle. It opened with a crack, and he poured the aromatic, yellowish liquid into the two glasses. He slid my glass towards me. I picked it up and inhaled. Notes of grapefruit, lemon, and freshly cut grass tickled my nose and awakened my senses.

He clinked his glass against mine. "Office hours are in session," he said with a wink.

The next hour passed by slowly. Matthew waited patiently as I defined the key terms of the missed chapter. He then dove into the lesson, instructing me on sampling. Simple random sample my ass. To me, there wasn't anything simple about it.

I took a sip of wine and stared with frustration at the practice exercises in front of me.

Matthew stroked his hand across my shoulders. "What did I say about tension?"

I gave him a look. "I'm still confused. Am I supposed to make a hypothesis? What happened to math being an exact science?"

Matthew put both hands on my shoulders and began to fully massage me. "Sometimes, sweetheart, even math doesn't have all the answers." I looked up at him over my shoulder.

He caught my stare. "Anyway, how about we take a little break? You've been working hard for an hour. Let me get dinner started."

"Oh, you were serious?"

"What do you mean?" Matthew expertly raised one eyebrow, "I invited you for dinner, didn't I?"

My face flushed. "You did, but... I didn't realize that meant you were going to make dinner."

He smiled. "I know my way around the kitchen, Joy. You're going to find I'm an outlier."

I snorted. "An outlier in the upper quartile."

Matthew smirked and put on a pot of water to boil. I stood and approached him. "Please let me help you."

He smiled. "You're my guest tonight."

"But--" I noticed the ripe tomatoes, avocados, and romaine on the counter, "let me put together a salad?"

Matthew took a step forward and brushed his thumb across my bottom lip. "If you absolutely insist."

I kissed his thumb, unable to resist. He bit his lip hard and then closed the gap between us. The kiss started gentle, but my excitement blossomed. I pushed him up against the kitchen counter and started to grind my pelvis to his. With a laugh, he pulled away.

"Mmm, aren't you hungry?"

"Maybe I'm hungrier for something other than food," I let out a shaky exhale, my heart going a mile a minute. My cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Was I coming on too strong?

Sensing my sudden unease, Matthew caressed his hands down my arms. He reached over to the stove without breaking eye contact and turned off the gas. "Dinner can wait."

With a growl, he grasped me under my thighs and lifted me up in his strong arms. His strides were confident as he carried me down the hall to his bedroom. He tossed me onto his mattress with the ease of a figure skater, his lips returned to mine, and the world blurred.

One hand slipped tenderly under my sweater and lightly caressed the tight flesh of my stomach. He pulled back for a moment, just enough for those blue eyes to meet my own. "Joy... I want to take my time with you."

Words failed me so I nodded, then gasped as his hand moved upwards. He reached the front clasp of my bra and popped it open with ease. Both hands slowly slipped my sweater up my torso and I let out a shaky breath. Matthew's eyes never left mine as he lowered his face to kiss my belly. I groaned in anticipation. In comparison to earlier, his touches were innocent, and yet I knew my juices had already destroyed the fabric of the thong.

His hands wrapped around my lower back, and he lifted me up in a sitting position. In a moment of beautiful vulnerability, he raised his hands up and bit his lip.

"Take my shirt off, Joy..." he murmured. I slowly obeyed, eyes widening as I pulled the fabric over his head and tossed it aside. Soft, dark curls of hair spread across the middle of his muscular chest and trailed down in a fuzzy line to his navel. The hair only accentuated his slightly defined abs and obliques, and I let out a shuddering breath as I traced my fingertip across them.

I gave him a look of pure need as I raised my arms to him. "My turn?"

Matthew nodded and removed my sweater. His pupils dilated at the view of my open bra, my full breasts exposed to him for the first time.

"My God, I knew they felt perfect but seeing them..." he trailed off and pushed the straps away from my shoulders, then pushed me back to the bed with another growl. "Such perfect, pretty, pink nipples..." Matthew licked his lips before latching on to my swollen left bud, sucking so softly, I thought I'd cum right then and there.

I let out a small cry, fisting my hand into his thick, dark, wavy hair.

"Mmm, you think this feels good? Just wait till I taste that delicious pussy."

"Matthew..." I whimpered, my other hand gripped the comforter for dear life, a red-hot flush covered my upper chest, and my mouth went dry.

"Hmmm?" he questioned. His fingers made quick work of the button and zipper on my jeans, then in one motion, he yanked the denim from my body. "I'm going to make you see stars, honey."

"Please...!" I managed to exclaim in desperation. But he only smirked and pushed aside my thong to expose my soaked entrance, my throbbing clit aching to be revealed under my soft lips.

"You're beautiful, Joy," Matthew breathed as his index finger and thumb pushed back my hood, exposing me. I shivered and gripped his hair tighter as his hot breath ghosted over my pussy. His eyes rolled back as he inhaled the scent of my arousal.

"Fuck, baby... if you taste as good as you smell... goddamn."

I wanted to crush my mound against his lips and tongue, my breathing was ragged and uneven and he hadn't even started.

He pressed a kiss to my inner thigh, then looked up at me, making sure I was watching.

"I love you, Joy," he murmured, then with the utmost care, he buried his tongue deeply into my slit. It was a good thing I was lying down, or I would have collapsed. My mouth opened in a silent moan, my hips unconsciously bucked upward. His hands kept my thighs open as his tongue began to dance up and down my pussy from my clit to my opening, a soothing, flickering motion that started to increase in pace.

"Holy... fucking... oh fuck...!" Expletives tumbled from my lips like raindrops across wet stones. I had no control, no thoughts, no say. There was only Matthew, his tongue, his touch, and those damn gorgeous blue eyes looking up at me. I screamed his name as the climax took over my whole body, a small amount of hot cream drizzled from my opening onto his awaiting, eager tongue. He moaned, his eyes rolling back as he tasted the fruits of his labor, slowing his licks to gentle even strokes as I bucked and spasmed. His left hand reached up and took mine as I slowly managed to catch my breath.

I squeezed his hand, looking at him incredulously. Slowly, he crawled up my body to once again kiss me. I could taste myself on him, my body still trembling with the ache of orgasm.

We kissed for a few moments, our movements languid, neither of us wanting to stop.

But I reached up and soothed my fingers through his hair, and he pulled back to lay his head on my breasts.

"I've never had anyone like you... I've never... loved anyone like you." I was surprised that tears flowed down my cheeks.

Concern crossed his face, and he lifted his head from my breasts. He softly brushed away the tears.

"Don't cry, sweetheart, this is a good thing."

But dread had settled in my stomach. "What are we going to do about our... situation?"

Matthew frowned and rolled over onto his back. "You could transfer to a different stats class."

I sat up in panic. "But it's almost the end of the semester. Finals are in two weeks. I understand most of the concepts because of your teaching!"

He sighed. "Look, I don't want you to transfer. It would probably look suspicious if you did anyway."

I bit my lip. "Do you really think Mara went to the dean?"

Matthew was silent for a long moment. "No, I don't. But that doesn't mean that she won't."

I let out a sigh. "I thought bullying ended in high school."

"Oh, sweetheart. There will always be bullies," he said softly.

"I'm an adult. This shouldn't be a problem," I said, but I felt like a petulant child, nonetheless.

"You are, but the university will still see it as inappropriate. I could just go to the dean and be honest. We've got a good rapport. Plus, I've seen your transcripts. You've been a solid dean's list student for your whole college career. Surely that amounts to something--"

"Are you insane? You tell him about us and you'll be fired!"

Matthew ran a hand through his hair. "We could... do nothing. You're only my student for two more weeks. You study hard, you take your final, you pass. No more office hours. There's no contact between us. Period. Finals end, semester ends, you move on to other classes for your final semester before you graduate."

My frown deepened. "So, we live in fear for the next two weeks. But I need your help to pass. I can't do this without you."

He turned to me. "As of what we went over earlier, that's it. That's the material for the semester. You can do this. You don't need me anymore. We get through this together and I'm not your professor anymore. May comes, you graduate, we can do what we want."

"That's in a perfect world, Matthew. She saw us that day."

"Joy, if she hasn't said a word yet, she isn't going to. People like her love to threaten or to have something to hold over someone. That's how a bully truly tortures. Her fun would end if she told the dean. Plus, it's her word against ours. I looked her up, too. She's had two disciplinary complaints filed against her and she's only a freshman. Apparently, she orchestrated a cruel hazing ritual against one of the girls on her floor and is on her second roommate for undisclosed reasons. If anyone should be... kicked out, it's her."

I reached for Matthew's hand. "Is that true?"

He nodded. "Hundred percent. Once a mean girl, always a mean girl." He curled his fingers around mine and squeezed. "Trust me."

"I do." We held each other for a moment in silence, his thumb rubbing back and forth across the back of my hand. This was going to be a dangerous game to play.

"Joy, let's not dwell on this right now. I want to be present with you. I want to make love to you... slowly. I want to kiss every inch of your body and not think about her, the dean, work, math, any of it. I've finally found a woman that I adore in every way, and I want to treat your mind and body like the temple you are. I need you to know you're worth it."

His words worked their magic. God, I loved him. And I needed more. I got on top of him, straddling his lap, my still wet pussy leaving a slick spot on his lower abdomen. "You're worth everything," I whispered. I bent down and kissed him hard, letting him know how badly I needed him, how much he meant to me. He groaned and wrapped his arms around me, caressing my back in a loving gesture. But his soft noises of pleasure deepened into one of carnal need as I reached back and wrapped my hand around his already stiffening cock.

"Joy..." he moaned against my mouth, "please..."

I smiled and laid him back against the pillows, then took my sweet time kissing him up and down his sensitive throat and all the way down his fuzzy treasure trail. Just as he had done to me, I made sure to keep eye contact as I pressed the softest kiss to the leaking tip of his throbbing dick.

I allowed myself a moment to truly admire his appendage. Circumcised, and possibly a good seven inches, he was thick with a fat tip. It was ever so slightly curved--it had hit my g-spot so perfectly earlier. I rubbed my mouth against it, letting the dewy precum spread across my lips like a favorite balm. Matthew grunted, his fingers fisted into my hair, a look of almost desperation across his face. I smiled widely. I wondered if he knew how much I had fantasized about sucking his cock. Slowly, I used the flat of my tongue to caress the underside of his head, then quickened my pace. I knew some women dreaded giving a man oral pleasure. I instead relished in it--the empowerment alone gave me a rush that no other act did. With eyes boring into his, and a wicked grin, I took his head into my mouth, tongue slowly dragging back and forth over his slit. "Fuck..." he gasped, reaching for my hand. My heart warmed at the romantic gesture and I accepted his grasp, but I wasn't done. I flattened my tongue against the underside of his cock and slowly took his entire length into my mouth. I took him all the way inside, my nose lightly brushing against the soft, dark, pubic curls. It tickled, and I smiled despite having my mouth full.

He squeezed my hand harder, his abs tightening with building pleasure.

"Jesus, you're so fucking good at that... ohh God, Joy... don't stop..." Matthew moaned and writhed beneath me. I increased the suction of my lips, wrapped my unoccupied hand around his thick base, and slowly began to stroke upwards as I suckled up and down his head. His breathing became erratic, and I felt him tighten inside me.

"Joy, I can't... baby, I can't hold back..."

I only increased my suction and pace with my hand. It took three strokes and his cream flooded my mouth, spurt after spurt. Matthew's back arched up and his grip on my hair was so tight, I almost worried he'd rip out a whole chunk. His guttural moans were as intense as the cum shot that I quickly and greedily swallowed, not wanting to lose a drop. There was a sweetness to the taste and my eyes closed, taking in the moment.

I opened them and let his spent cock slip from my mouth to lay flat against his tight stomach. I realized we were still holding hands. His eyes closed, his lips were parted, his chest heaved, trying to take in necessary oxygen.

When those blue eyes fixed upon me again, and he had caught his breath, he tugged me to him. Our lips met with a searing passion; a love I had never experienced before.

We had to make this work... because suddenly, I didn't know if I could be without this man.

The moments passed by slowly, as if the Gods were allowing time to stand still. Eventually, we managed to rise, clean up, dress, and return to the kitchen. Despite the incredible flow of dopamine and endorphins, we were mostly quiet. I cut up the romaine, tomatoes and avocados for the salad, Matthew boiled water, and made pasta with meatballs.

More wine was poured and together, we enjoyed a delicious meal. We talked about our lives, our families, our dreams--avoiding the elephant in the room completely. It was truly one of the best evenings of my life, but the terror of being caught for inappropriate conduct with a professor, and the fear of Matthew being fired because of me, kept creeping into the back of my mind.

When he asked me to stay, I found myself taking a step back, despite wanting to sleep in his arms.

"If I stay, I won't be able to leave. Plus, it will be even harder to keep this private."

He sighed and pulled me close to him. My head settled against his chest, listening to his heart. "I know." His voice carried want, pain, worry, need. "I love you, Joy," he whispered against my hair.

"And I love you," I replied, my chest tight.

The weekend went by quickly. I spent most of it in my dorm room, furiously studying and combing through my statistics notes and textbook. I even went on YouTube to watch other statistics professors do sample problems. When I entered the classroom on Monday, it took all of me not to throw my arms around him. I noticed that Matthew glanced up at me, but with a look of disinterest, went back to his laptop screen. Good. As much as it hurt, I knew for now it had to be this way.

The freshman girls were all a buzz, chattering about where they were headed for the post finals winter break. I noticed that Mara was not present. Good riddance, I thought, I could concentrate on the review lessons better without her.

I was proud of how well I followed the review, and I even volunteered for a practice problem at the board--which I nailed. The class ended and I was packing my bag when I noticed Matthew gave me the tiniest smile. My heart fluttered and I knew he was proud of me. But that feeling came crashing to a halt as the dean of students entered the classroom.

Suddenly, my stomach was in my throat. I felt sweat pool under my arms and across my forehead.

"Professor Mitchum? Would you be able to meet me in your office for a few moments?"

Matthew, to his credit, kept his expression neutral. I kept my head down and continued to shove my notebook and textbook into my bag.

"Of course, I'll start office hours a few minutes late." He followed the dean's retreating back out of the classroom. He glanced at me with what I assumed was supposed to be a reassuring glance, but I could see the panic behind his eyes.

I waited a minute before quietly following them. Matthew's office door was ajar. I leaned against the wall outside and held my breath.

"Matthew, I needed to talk to you in person. I know you've been a respected member of this faculty for the last four years, and, I have seen the hard work and dedication you have put in to building up the math department."

I couldn't breathe.

"That being said, I must tell you that I was approached by the dean of the liberal arts school at Central Valley University. If I recall, you attended and graduated summa cum laude."

"Yes, sir, I did."

"Well, that's most excellent. He told me there's a vacancy for the head of the math department that just opened, and frankly, I want you to take it."

"Sir, am I being fired?" Matthew's voice was soft.

"Fired? What gave you that idea? You always made it known that you wanted more than just one section of the math department. Well, now you can--and at your alma mater, too. Well, don't give me that look, Mitchum, this is what you always wanted."

My heart was hammering. Central Valley? That was about a half hour away, more middle of the state. But... this wasn't punishment, this was promotion.

"Sir, I don't know what to say."

"I think you should say thank you. You're needed immediately."

But sir! Finals are at the end of next week! I can't just leave before the end of the semester."

The dean chuckled. "You can, and you will. You'll leave your final exam with me and I'll administer it. Easy peasy." His voice lowered. "Oh, and Mitchum... if you don't take this job, I will have to investigate into a troubling allocation from one of our freshman students."

I clamped my hand over my mouth to keep the bile inside.

"Excuse me?" Matthew asked, his voice stern.

"You heard me, Mitchum. If you don't take this job and I find that there's truth to you having inappropriate sexual relations with one of your students, I will make sure you never work in a university ever again. How lucky you are that you're needed at Central Valley, and I can wash my hands of you. Pack your office and leave your final exam in my mailbox. Go on to bigger and better things and keep your damn dick in your pants."

"Sir, I..."

"Enough. You start at Central on Friday. Or else." He turned on his heel and reached for the office door. In panic, I took off around the corner and ducked into an empty classroom. The dean briskly strode down the hall and down the stairs. I couldn't catch my breath. Tears streamed down my face. Forced promotion to another university--and it was all my fault. On autopilot, I walked back to his office, feeling dread with each step.

I pushed open the office door. Matthew sat at his desk, his face a mix of shock and disbelief.

"Matthew?" I asked softly.

He looked up and saw that I was crying. "Joy, don't. This could have been a lot worse. You're safe--"

"He's forcing you to leave!" I said through tears.

He got up, closed the door, locked it, and pulled me into his arms. "This doesn't change anything. I love you."

I looked up at him. "You should hate me. This is all my fault."

He shook his head. "Takes two to tango, honey. And I wanted you just as badly as you wanted me. I'm getting off easy here. Me being needed at Central is a blessing. I go teach at my alma mater, and you don't have to worry about us."

I buried my head against his chest.

"Joy, baby, do me a favor. Go back to your dorm. Study. Get the best grades you can in all your finals. Ace the final I'm leaving for you. Graduate with the high honors I know you're going to. Get your degrees. I'm not going to be far away. I promise you, okay?" Those blue eyes swam with the beginnings of tears.

I stared up into those eyes for what felt like an eternity. I nodded and kissed him with all my heart.

"And I promise you," I whispered. I left his office for the last time.

Six months later.

Sometimes, time really is all you need. With determination, I went into all my finals. I ended statistics with a very satisfying B plus. I graduated with high honors, just as I promised. Matthew and I had agreed not to contact each other--a decision we both hated but knew was for the best at the moment.

As for me, I kept writing. Words were my comfort, especially when logic and practicality refused to make sense. I turned my successes and my lonely heart into an anthology of short stories and poems. I found a small publishing house near the middle of the state and submitted my work for review. When I received the email that they were honored and thrilled to publish my anthology, my heart leapt in happiness after what had felt like years.

Mockup in hand and signed contract tucked into my notebook, I headed into the local coffee shop for a celebratory latte.

I ordered and headed to a little table in the back to enjoy my treat and to quietly revel in my personal success.

I took a sip and breathed it all in. The latte was delicious, but somehow it tasted bitter on my tongue. I looked around. Busy college students wearing headphones, working away on laptops, pushing forward for better futures.

Maybe I'd look him up. Maybe I'd call Matthew and let him know that I'd done it. I took out the contract, and I reread it again for the third time that day. I opened a fresh page in my notebook and took out my favorite pen. I tapped the pen to the paper; the black ink blotted the page and smudged. But no words flowed forth.

A soft hand slipped over mine. I knew those fingers. My eyes blurred with tears and spilled across the page, blending with the black ink.

"Look at me, Joy." His voice sent goosebumps up and down my arms. "Now, what are the odds I'd find you in one of my favorite haunts?"

I looked up. Those piercing blue eyes held my gaze. "You should do the calculations," I said, tears flowing faster.

"I don't think I can. Not alone, anyway."

"Together?" I asked.

"I like those odds." He sat down and pulled a notebook out of his briefcase. With a smile, he squeezed my fingers. "Office hours are back in session."