A collaboration involving Professor Hiddleston and Professor Evans- The two are rivals at a posh New England university and have no idea they both have taken interest in the lovely Thalia Bareo. She’s a grad student with interests in language and history; a sassy full-figured Puerto Rican girl from Chicago. Story updates are posted on Wednesdays and Sundays.
Word count: 3884
Warnings: Language, Adult Situations, fluffy smut, foreplay, nipple play, hand job
Summary: Sober now, Chris isn’t really sure if accepting Thalia’s kind offer was a good idea.
Click here to the introduction of Educating Thalia
The two talk long past midnight. The comfort and ease feels like old friends. They discuss a shared interest in history and he asks her thoughts on some of the books he sees sitting around the room. Leaning against the arm of the couch he puts his feet up next to her. If he tipped his foot just so, he could brush against her thigh, but he tries not to invade her space. Although it was difficult not to want to, with her patting his leg occasionally for emphasis in her storytelling. He bites back a groan when she rests one leg up on the coffee table in front of them. Her robe falls open, exposing her chunky, delicious looking inner thigh and his eyes dart to the V between her legs, covered by her short plaid bottoms. Oh, hell. It’s more than a man can take. He excuses himself to use the restroom, to get away and try to clear his mind.
No such luck. The tiny space smells like her, the fresh scent from her shower and her lotions and creams on the ledge above the sink. Resisting the urge to check in her medicine cabinet, he removes his glasses, laying them on the counter and rubbing his hands over his face. Chris can’t figure out if she really is just being nice or if like the guy at the bar said, she’s flirting with him and interested. Washing up, he begins to speak to himself, hidden under the sound of the running water. “What the fuck are ya doin’, man? She’s a student.” He sighs and adjusts the fit of his pants thanks to the ebbing hard on building off and on all evening in her presence. “A hot one. That invited you to her home. Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Chris, ya shoulda gone to the crappy coffee place.”
Grabbing his glasses, he returns to the living room, watching from the doorway for a moment as she brushes the tangles out of her hair, rubbing the ends with a towel. He longs to run his fingers through it… To grab it in his hand and twist it in his fingers as he… Clearing his throat he stops his thoughts and he returns to his spot on the couch, this time keeping his feet closer to himself.
Instead of returning to their conversation, she barely hides a yawn. “Well Chris,” she says sleepily, rising from her spot, “I wasn’t kidding when I said I had studying to do tomorrow. I need to get some sleep so I can function.” Walking behind the couch, she makes the few steps to the kitchen table and sets her empty coffee mug there. “Sunday’s my only true day off.”
Stopping behind the couch, she rests her hand near his. Her voice drops, “Let me get you some pillows and blankets and-”
He places his hand on hers and can feel a slight tremble. His tone matches hers, a shared intimacy of their voices. “You know I’m not really drunk… Why did you invite me here?” Chris asks quietly.
She looks down over the back of the couch at him, her lashes long against her cheeks as she blinks. She licks her lips and he watches her swallow before licking them again quickly. “I don’t really know.” She chuckles nervously. “Maybe just to see if you’d say ‘yes,’” Thalia admits, a vulnerability in her eyes.
Tenderly he lets go of her hand and rises from the couch, walking around behind it to stand in front of her. Her head low, he lifts her chin, holding it with his thumb under her pouty lip, bringing her eyes up to meet his. “You didn’t think I’d say ‘yes?’”
“Most guys don’t look at me the way you did in the bar.” She pulls back from his hold.
He swallows his own thoughts when he sees she needs to be wanted, to be worshipped. “And how is that? How did I look at you?”
“Like you didn’t care that I carry some extra weight,” she sighs and sucks in her lip quickly before speaking again. “Like you… like you wouldn’t mind feeling it on top of you…”
Fuck. Orchids. Wet curly hair. Pajamas. A slight blush at her confessing her innermost thought… He’s hard again at just the thought of her and what she’s saying and not saying to him. Her heart is racing; he can see her blood pumping through the veins in her neck, the robe loosely falling down her shoulder. Not speaking, he steps to her and grasps the tie on her robe. Locking his blue eyes on hers, he smiles devilishly and gives it a tug, the robe falling open and revealing her plump frame, still fresh and pink from the hot shower. He places his hands on her waist and pulls her to him.
Damn, she’s gorgeous.
His eyes fall to her mouth as her lips open in a sweet “oh” of surprise at his manhandling. He lowers his head, whispering across her skin, “Do you want me to look at you that way again?” Chris gently places a kiss on her collarbone, nudging the lace trim strap of her tank top with his nose.
She grabs at the back of his head with one hand, holding him to her. Thalia drops her head back and sighs, “Yes.”
His lips slide up her neck and his nose grazes her skin, delivering feathery touches to light her skin on fire and with her other hand she grabs his on her hip and holds it tight. “Do you want me to sleep on the couch?” he whispers against the soft spot under her ear, kissing tenderly with his lips slightly open and searing her with a quick flick of his tongue. He can feel her pulse racing and her shallow breaths echo in his ear.
“No,” quietly escapes her lips.
Chris grasps their hands resting on her hip in a tender squeeze and asks, “Do you want me to come to bed with you?” He expertly pulls her earlobe between his teeth and sucks gently, his mouth pulling back into a smile when her knees buckle and she falls against him.
She squeezes his hand back and shyly replies in a barely breathed out sound, “Yes.”
“Thalia?” She hums at the sound of her name. “You’re still very young; You’re not giving anything to me?” he asks patiently, voicing his concern.
Giggling quietly she turns her head to expose more of her neck to his devouring lips and with a soft voice addresses his thoughts. “Oh, no, that was taken a long time ago. And I’m not that young.” She relaxes against him, allowing him to hold her up. Her voice a bit stronger, she continues, “But I have a feeling you could have other firsts for me?”
Weakened himself by her thoughts, he nips at her flesh. Chris longs to brand her, to see his teeth marks, his handprints on her tanned velvet skin. He feels a desire to possess her, to make her succumb to him. But he also likes her fiery personality and wants nothing more than for her to power over him.
Taking her hand in his, he nods to the closed door and she shakes her head. Pushing ahead he opens the door and waits for her to pass by him. Moving across the room, he quietly orders, “Stop,” before she reaches the bed. Moving behind her, he sweeps her hair into his hand, admiring it’s glossy sheen and the curls most women would kill for, seeing again the image he had moments before of him pulling her hair during a more sensual act. He lifts it to his nose, inhaling the flowery scent. “No smoke now,” he teases lightly in her ear, delighting in the chill that runs down her spine. Still damp, he pulls it together and begins to make a loose plait, his hands brushing across her shoulders and back as he works.
“Mmm… That’s nice,” she murmurs with her husky voice.
Her voice hits him below the belt, stirring him to rise again. He tugs on his jeans, wiping off the precum he feels spilling over. Coughing, he asks quietly, “Elastic?” and she removes it from her wrist and holds it over her shoulder. He takes it from her outstretched hand and holds it in place as he gently kisses her palm. When he lets her hand go, she runs it down the side of her neck and movement catches his eye. In the dark room, only the small glow of a bedside lamp, he can see her in a mirror across the room. Her hand runs over her large breast and her nipples harden under the tank top, unencumbered by a bra, before she wraps her arm around her waist.
Jesus fuckin’ Christ. She’s been sitting on the couch like that over an hour?
She awkwardly shifts her weight from one foot to the next as he quickly ties off the end of the braid. Dropping it down her back, it reaches to her waist and he gives it a tug as he admires his handiwork. Quiet sounds of her breathing and cars passing in the street below fill the room. Placing his hands on her back, he runs his hands up her sides, feeling over her curves and across the tops of her shoulders to the collar of her robe. Grabbing the neckline, he pulls it back off her shoulders and lets it fall to the floor between them. Her shoulders rise as she takes a deep breath, and he runs his hands slowly down her skin in the same fluid motion as before. She makes no sound but her skin warms under his touch. Kicking the robe out of the way, he steps to her, flush against her body, his threadbare jeans doing little to hide the hardness of his cock she has caused. Similar in height, his evident arousal brushes across her ass and she involuntarily pushes back against him. His arms join hers around her waist, slowly rising up under her tank to grasp the tender flesh of her full breasts-
Music blares through the room from her phone. His hands drop when she steps forward, bending over the end of the bed to reach it. “Fuck,” he declares, her ass in the air, and her tits falling free in the reflection of the mirror.
She pulls her tank top up, covering herself up self-consciously. She turns her body, sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him with a smile, shaking her head. Rolling her eyes at his stare, she nervously glances at the screen. Her expression lifts as she answers the phone. “Yes, Jim, I’m good. Yes, I know his car is still parked out there. He’s here… Asleep in my room… When I’m done studying I’ll sleep on the couch… Jim, I’m not your daughter… Yes, I know…”
Chris groans when she adjusts her tank, and rises up to tug down on the legs of the shorts, riding up into her personal sweet space. “I’m in the living room studying… Dude was drunk and it’s 20 degrees out. Roads will be slick. I told him to stay…. Yes. I know. I know. Thanks for always having my back… Yea, ya big goof, I love you too.”
Pressing ‘close’ on her phone, she tosses the phone into the pillows. Giggling, she blushes and sighs. “Kinda broke the mood didn’t it?”
Looking down at her, sitting on the bed, the true co-ed she is, Chris stalks forward, pulling his tight blue sweater and t-shirt off in one swift motion and tossing it on the floor. Biting his lip, he places his knee on the bed next to her and places his large hand on her chest, spanning across her collarbone. “Heart’s still racing, sweetheart. And you got some of your spirit back. I don’t think the breathy ingenue is really you; but fuck it was a turn on.”
Looking up at him with her dark eyes of melted chocolate, she starts, “Chris, I-”
“No, honey. The problem isn’t you. You said “guys” don’t look at you… It’s the boys you date. You need someone older to appreciate you; to take care of you.” With his other hand, he unbuckles his belt and watches as her eyes scan across his chest, taking in his tats from shoulder to shoulder. With a cocky grin he tells her, “They’re all spelled right, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
He slides the leather belt from the loops and brushes it across her thighs, feeling her shiver at his hold on her. Her grin quickly changes to desire and the light gleaming in her eyes advances from playful to aroused. “A woman like you needs a man. A man can fuck you till morning; make you come three times before sunrise and leave you begging for more.”
With the force of his hand, he pushes her back on the bed with a slight bounce. She raises one of her perfectly arched eyebrows at him, and teases. “Three times, huh? A little cocky, aren’t you?”
“Oh, sweetheart, it’s not little,” Chris promises as he falls on top of her, gently applying his weight and pushing her into the bed as he attacks her neck. He brushes his scruff against her tender skin, knowing the effect it will have on her. Thalia giggles while bringing her arms under his. Her hands stretch over his shoulder blades, feeling their strength and power. He returns to nibbling at her neck as he had done in the living room, the desire to taste her overwhelming. Tenderly he grasps her skin between his teeth and bites as tiny sweet sounds escape between her lips. Tilting her head back she gives him more access to her delicate flesh and begins to wiggle beneath him. He shifts, allowing his aching cock to fit between her legs and he grinds against her.
“Oh, fuck,” she breathes out sinfully, scraping her nails across his back, digging slightly.
Moaning against her neck, he drags his beard against her again, leaving beard burn and marking her. The desire to claim her is strong in his gut, to show to everyone she belongs to someone. His inner monologue tells himself to shut up. This is just one drunken night, he thinks. But he still wants her to feel the ache for days…
He already knows he’s lying to himself – knows he’s sober- when she shifts, lifting her leg and rubbing it over his ass before sliding it down his leg, holding him closer to her. Going in for another lick along the pulsing vein in her neck, he reaches to slide the strap of her tank top down her shoulder. More forcefully than intended, the lace snaps and they both pause. He looks up to her and sees the mirth in her eyes.
“Fuck it; never liked it anyway,” she giggles, toying at his chain, admiring his St. Christopher’s medallion. “Good Catholic boy… Nice,” she wickedly grins, using it to pull him forward, lifting her head to connect their swollen lips.
“Can’t trust those Catholic girls,” he teases, his kisses drifting along her jawline. He can’t get enough of the taste of her skin.
Sliding her leg back up his, she presses her heel into the cheek of his ass, rising up to grind against him. “No, not at all,” she sassily agrees.
“Shut up and kiss me again,” he taunts, caressing his hand across her cheek, sliding across her freckles and winding under her hair. Her lips collide with his and his large palm stretches from her ear to the back of her skull. He squeezes lightly as her tongue darts in his slightly opened mouth, teasing and prying for more space. His groan is swallowed by her kiss, her tongue lightly sliding against his, silently begging for his permission. He opens his mouth, and returns the motions as their tongues tangle as if greeting one another. Her breathing is labored and he feels her heat rising between her legs, turned on simply by his touches and kisses.
If this is her reaction to their tame foreplay, he can’t wait to really get her going. Lifting his body up on both arms, resting his fists on either side of her head, he pushes between her legs again. Without his weight on her, her body arches to him, her glorious tits raised. He grinds down on her, painfully aware of his own aching cock, wanting to seek solace and relief deep inside her. She moans quietly and her head rolls back against the bed, her hands clenching the sheets next to her, his eyes drawn to them.
Not truly wanting to power over her, yet, Chris tells her quietly, “Touch me; I wanna feel your hands on me.”
Her warm hands drift to his sides, sliding along the waist of his jeans, dipping cautiously below the waistband. Goosebumps form on his skin, desiring more touches from her. The feathery caress teases him and he presses closer to her again as her hands reach lower, squeezing his ass. She bites her lip, inhaling deeply at the discovery he’s commando.
“Damn, Thalia, you’re driving me crazy.”
Shaking her head in disbelief, he can see her denying his words. “You’re beautiful, desirable,” he tells her. “Sexy as hell, woman, and if no one has told you that before, they didn’t look close enough.”
Pulling her hands back, she runs them over his back, as if she’s afraid to play with the actual fire. “Chris, this is just play. A fun night; I get it. You don’t have to say-”
“I always tell the truth; especially to a beautiful woman,” he rolls himself to her side, lowering his mouth to breath against her skin. “Maybe we won’t leave this bed till you believe it,” he whispers with a growl as he pushes down her tank top, exposing her swollen peak to him. Her dark brown nipple is so tantalizing; he washes over it gently with his tongue and she whimpers aloud, not even holding back the aching need caught in the back of her throat. Chuckling, he licks slowly again. “Like that, do you? Tell me, give me your sounds; don’t hold back,” he shares.
“Then do it again,” she replies, sliding one hand up to hold the back of his head against her breast.
Happily complying with her wish, he is treated when she rolls on her side to face him and the tank top pulls down, revealing the second delicious button. He lavishes it with the same attention, but her quiet mewls encourage him to add pressure and he gropes with one hand while his tongue plays over her.
“Uhh…” she moans, throwing her leg over his hip and rolling him to her. Snaking her hands between them she runs her hands over his washboard abs, teasing along his Adonis belt. His breathing heightens and his need for her builds when she tangles her fingers in the trail of trimmed hairs leading her to the prize. Her tentative touches are light and unsure so he’s surprised when she pops the button of his jeans and reaches inside.
Her soft hands brush over his broad tip, wiping at the precum he expels in response to her sexiness. Sliding her hands lower she grabs him with both hands, not even reaching from tip to base. “Shit, not little is right, baby.”
Raising his head from her beautiful exposed breasts, his eyes meet hers, a mix of fear and desire. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re ready for me.” Given the heat and wetness he feels pushing against his denim clad thigh as she slowly rocks against him, he’s not too worried. About that, anyway. “Thalia? This was the the furthest thing from my mind when I left my place tonight; I’m not really prepared. Do you have anything?”
“Seducing grad students wasn’t on the agenda, Professor?” She tightens her hold and tugs, pulling a groan from deep within his chest.
“Ah, fuck,” he chuckles, growing stiffer from her handling. “Nah, I’m the only one that’s tugged that in a while, sweetheart.”
Biting her lip, she inhales. “I’m covered, and I have stuff in the basket under the bed. No worries,” she informs him.
“A fun basket?” His eyes delight in the thought of truly playing with her. There he goes again, thinking in the future. “Can’t wait to see what you’ve got.”
She giggles. “How about the real thing tonight? I can’t wait to see what you’ve got.” Sucking in her breath, she whispers out, “It feels amazing in my hands. So big…” Running her fingers across the veiny weave of his cock, she adds. “So thick…”
He wants to respond to her but she instinctively licks her lips and his mouth falls to hers, pulled like a magnet. Flicking his tongue across her raw flesh where he’s scratched her with his beard, his tongue teases hers again, running along the tops of her teeth and pulling out slowly. She sighs and seems to melt beside him as she rolls to her back, flopping her arm to her side, the other still rhythmically pulling on him.
Dropping his eyes, he watches her hand, hidden still in his jeans and he lifts his hips to slide them down under the curve of his ass allowing more freedom for her movements. Fully exposed, her hand reminds him of the way he watched her pull on the tap at the bar just hours before. Was it only hours ago? Her hands move methodically, and he realizes he’ll spill his seed if she doesn’t stop. “Thalia, you need to-”
“You promised me three times before sun up, Mister. This will help you last longer.”
Rising to her knees beside him he sees her eyes pleading with him as she continues to pull and twist his sensitive skin, reaching down to caress his balls with her other hand. Kneeling there, she strikes an imposing figure, curves and beauty, all focused on him. Damn, how did she flip it on him? But she makes a point… Raising up on his elbows to watch her work, he replies with a groan, “Have at it; it’s all yours.” He grins, waving his hand as if he’s gifting himself to her.
Tentatively at first, her confidence builds and she pulls him to a crest, a tightening building in his thighs, whispering “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He thrusts into her hands and spurts his cum over his chest, dribbling on her fingers and some rolling down his side onto the bed covers. Her smile can’t hide her satisfaction and she takes it all in stride, pulling the ripped tank top over her head to clean the mess. He’s surprised and so turned on when she casually licks the drips from her fingers. “Damn, that’s really sexy,” he hisses, sitting up and placing his hand on the back of her neck, drawing her to him in a passionate kiss, his hormones surging as his body still quakes. “Hell, I really needed that,” he chuckles.
Giggling, she shakes her head and replies, “Glad I could help.”
Click here for Chapter 16 Three
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