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: 3272
Warnings: Language, Adult Situations, NSFW, real life, foreplay, oral sex, dry humping
Summary: Thalia’s period changes plans for the activities just a bit and the couple finds other ways to create fun
Click here for intro to Educating Thalia
images found on Pinterest
Scrabble image created by avenger-nerd-mom
The next morning Chris is woken by her hushed curses. The sounds echo in the cold room. He rolls over and looks at her through squinted eyes. Her wild mane hangs around her and his plaid shirt, buttoned crooked, slides off her shoulder. “You’re never awake first; everything all right?”
A quiet “fuck” snaps him to… His blue eyes fly open and he quickly takes in her pained expression. “Thalia? What’s wrong?”
Dropping her head forward, her reply is muffled behind her hands and she pulls away when he reaches out to her wrist. “Christ, it’s so embarrassing.” She sighs heavily, looking at Chris with her dark brown, sleepy eyes. “My period came early and I don’t have anything. Can you drive me to town?”
Biting back the laugh and comment he knows will get him in trouble, he pats her knee, caressing his thumb over the old, knubby bedsheet. Better early than late. “It’s okay, babe; it’s a guest house. I’m sure we can find ‘things’ you can use in the hall closet.”
He really hopes over time his mom, sisters, hell even his ex-wife have left things in the closet. It’s the first time he’s ever seen Thalia unsure of herself, and although a crack in her tough girl armor is endearing, he wants to help right her as soon as possible. Throwing the covers back, he starts to climb out of bed and she scrambles the blankets towards her.
“The bed, Chris…” She chuckles, shaking her head. The blush on her cheeks and the morning light hitting her face creates a halo effect, and in all honesty Chris has never seen her more beautiful.
Rolling back to her, he crawls up on his knees behind this beautiful, distraught woman. Gently caressing down her back he tells her it’s no big deal. Her plump, full body is warm, even in the cold cabin and he moves closer to her, wrapping his arms around her. His t-shirt and flannel bottoms are no match for the cold air. He’ll have to restart the fire soon.
She relaxes into him, resting her head back against his shoulder and reaching up to scratch his scruffy chin. “That’s really nice, thank you. Come on. Go now and check. I need to go take a shower.”
Kissing her temple, he slides off the bed, walking to the door. “I’ll give you time. When I hear the shower run, I’ll be back to check on you, alright?”
She nods her head, her hands still worrying at the sheets.
Fifteen minutes later, the fire is going again and he sees the sheets in a big ball in the hallway. No stains to the mattress pad. Not that it would have mattered. As a father, he’s cleaned worse messes. Setting out fresh sheets on the bed for later, he smiles to the little tune she hums, remembering another time long ago he waited impatiently while she was in the shower.
“A lot of the snow melted over night,” he announces, stepping into the steamy room, her signature scent of orchids filling his nose. “If you feel up to it, I’d like to take you on a hike.”
He sets down the selection of feminine supplies he found in the closet on the counter. “Do you need anything else, Niña? I’ll go get the laundry started.”
Pulling back the curtain slightly, Thalia smiles wryly. “No, please don’t. I’ll take care of it. A hot coffee before a hike sounds perfect; I’d like that very much.” Embarrassed, she hangs her head, tendrils of curls falling around her face from her messy bun. “Chris? Thank you. If… If you wanted to go home, I’d understand.”
Chris crosses the small room, placing his large hand on the back of her exposed neck, gently pressing his lips to her tantalizing plump flesh. Sliding his mouth from the welcomed exchange, he rests his forehead to hers. “Oh, Thalia… beautiful, funny, amazing woman. If you think we’re just here for a sex-fueled weekend, you are entirely wrong.” His lips graze across her forehead and he turns to walk out of the room.
“I plan to beat your ass at Scrabble later today.”
Her laughter bounces against the tiles as he gathers the soiled sheets in his arms and takes them down the hallway, his own laughter echoing hers.
Over bacon and eggs, Thalia announces she’s not ready for a hike just yet. She’d like to warm up and stay cozy by the fire. Chris putters around the kitchen a bit longer, checking on the wash as she finds a volume from the bookshelf and carries it over to the couch to curl under the hand stitched quilt to read. Shifting her slightly, he settles in next to her, opening a book on his tablet. At one point, he knows she drifts to sleep next to him, and he rests his cheek on top of her curly head. Happy. Content. Satisfied.
When she wakes, she disappears into the bathroom. Upon reentry of the room, she pulls the Scrabble box and a dictionary off the shelf and starts to set it up on the coffee table in front of the fire. “How about that popcorn now? I’m hungry; I could use a snack.”
Chris readies the kettle and the kernels begin to dance and pop over the flames as they decide on the rules of the game. Sexy Scrabble. Only words related to body parts and sexual acts, slang and traditional phrases included. “What about scientific names, or Greek and Latin?” Thalia asks.
Squinting, his competitive nature getting the best of him, Chris chuckles. “You study languages. I would be at an unfair advantage. That doesn’t seem right?”
Tilting her head to the side, she pushes a wayward curl behind her ear. Adjusting herself comfortably on the pillow, she smiles up to him, still sitting on the edge of the couch. “Well? You could choose one of those words and we could try it out sometime… But I’m telling you now, you’re going to lose. I have an excellent sailor’s vocabulary.” He laughs at her tease.
The game begins and she’s right. It’s stacked against him. Right from the start, she plays ‘olisbos,’ earning nine points. “Shit, this is not fair. What the hell is that?” He chuckles. “Do I want to know?”
Laughing, taking a small handful of popcorn and chocolate candies she had in her bag, she replies. “It’s fairly tame; it’s the Greek for ‘dildo.’”
“Fuck. Remind me to never play word games with you again; you’re gonna beat the pants of me.”
Raising her eyebrows, she giggles. “Isn’t that the point, Evans? And you know, I get 50 bonus points because I used all my tiles. So make that 59 points over there on that little notepad you’re keeping.”
“Fuckin’ hell. Evil, evil woman.” He chuckles, laying out the only word at his disposal, ‘seed,’ for a measly four points.
Other words tossed about during the game are fairly customary, traditionally used in common language. The list of synonyms for ‘whore’ takes the game to a new level, as slang terms were allowed in their rules. But the dark-headed woman is constantly ahead in points and Thalia finally takes pity on him and allows Chris the privilege of using his phone to help him google words to use. “Man, we shoulda set the rules for strip Scrabble. We’d have been done in about four turns,” she laughs, throwing popcorn at him.
“Four is a good number.” Wiggling his eyebrows at her, he hopes she knows he’s enjoying their meeting of the minds as much as he loves the joining of their bodies. “Hey, Thalia. This is a lot of fun; I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun at Scrabble before.”
“Don’t you get soft on me; try to butter me up! I’m gonna win this damn game,” she shouts playfully. “Don’t try to distract me with your niceties.”
“I know you’re gonna win, and then I’m going to enjoy claiming my prize… Hmmm… What should it be? I’ll be honest, I’m leaning towards ‘irrumatio.’” He’s pleased with his new vocabulary, learning this is the Latin for ‘face fucking.’
Placing the last tiles on the board, Thalia announces she wins, spelling out the word ‘fellatio.’ With a predatory gleam in her eye, she crawls around the table to him, pushing his leg to the side to make room between his thighs. “You know,” she says, biting her lip seductively and then flicking her tongue out, licking her bottom lip, “that’s a prize you can claim now.”
Breathing ragged at just the touch of her hands on his thighs, he exhales, “We could… I could accept that reward right here.”
Rising up on her knees, Thalia places a frantic, heated kiss on his lips. He winds his hands in her hair, tighter as hers knead over his thighs. The flannel pants rub against his cock, already beginning to twitch with desire for this ethereal creature. Her tongue teases along his swollen lip, encouraging him to open for her. When he does, she pulls his bottom lip between her teeth, nipping and biting, her hands continuing to caress up his muscular legs.
Covering her warm hands over his bulge as their touches continue, quiet moans escape them both. Massaging his hard cock through the soft fabric, he wills himself not to crack under pressure. Her lips continue the chain of bites and nibbles across his sandpapery scruff.
Grasping his tapered waist, she tugs him further down the couch so his ass nearly hangs over the edge. Resting back on her heels, she digs her fingers under the sides of the waistband and gives a yank as he lifts his ass up. Sliding the pants down his legs as he removes his t-shirt in a swift move, she licks her lips at the sight of his beautiful, veiny cock. “Who’s really getting the prize here?” she moans quietly, removing her own t-shirt as well.
Rising back on her knees, she stretches up, resting her belly against his throbbing cock, running her hands over the defined plane of his torso. “Like a damn Greek statue,” she whispers, memorizing every ridge with the touch of her hand, followed by her hot mouth blazing on his skin.
Chris writhes beneath her, enjoying each touch, wanting to be closer than ever to her. Knowing he can’t have her is killing him, and she’s taking her time with her own pleasure. Her fingertips scratch over his nipples, bringing them to painful attention, easing the hurt with her sweet lips wrapping around them. “Fuck,” he chokes out between panted breaths as she sucks and bites at him, making her way south.
His slick precum lubricates between them and she continues to brush her body against his, the lace of her bra rough against his sensitive nerves. She wiggles her ass back and forth as she slides across his body, tonguing his belly button and toying with the coarse hairs leading to his aching muscle. Putting his foot up on the coffee table behind her, he spreads his legs wider as she slides her nose along his cock, resting hard now against his thigh.
“You really suck at Scrabble.” Thalia breathes warm puffs of air against his legs. “Fortunately for you, I suck at other things.”
Looking up, her eyes capture his and her desire is evident there as she holds him in her hands, cupping his balls and rolling them between her fingers. Slowly she uses one hand to slide up his thick shaft, covering the palm of her hand over the tip and using his slick to ease her glide as she begins to stroke him up and down, never taking her bright wide eyes from his. When her touch becomes too much for him, his eyes roll back and he rests his head against the couch.
With his eyes closed he savors the feeling when her mouth closes over him, her tongue teasing under the ridge. He can’t stand the torture. Placing both feet firmly on the floor, he lifts his hips so the head slides into her waiting mouth. She grips his shaft so only the tip can slide in and out between her lips as her tongue swirls around, sucking off him with each penetration into her opening. Holding his balls tighter, she holds him in place silently guiding him and he rests back down as she sucks softly along his shaft with sweet open-mouthed kisses. “Oh, shit, that’s good,” he groans as she repeats the steps going back up to the head before placing her mouth over the tip and sliding down on him. “Fuck, yes,” he hisses, grasping tightly to the edge of the couch.
Pulling the clip from her hair, her curls tumble down over them, an erotic waterfall of sensation across his belly, thighs and exposed cock. Her humming causes his need to build, and so aroused, his hips thrust up again, forcing his length down her throat. Pushing up from the couch, she holds still as he reflexively pummels into her again and again, until she taps his thigh indicating her threshold.
He pushes back with his feet, shoving the table out of the way and pulling his shaft from her mouth,. Easing her gently to the rug, he spills himself over her chest, long spurts as she smiles up to him, caressing her hands over his muscled back and his tight ass.
Collapsing to her, she holds him close, tenderly kissing his sweaty temple and dragging her nails down his sides, holding at his V as he grinds against her a bit more. “Jesus fucking hell; stop that,” she laughs, pushing against him, truly wanting what he’s offering.
“I should stop, ‘cause I know you’re gonna be mad…” He whispers against her neck, nibbling the tender spot just under her neck.
Rolling him off to her side, they are both covered in his sweet sticky mess. “Why would I be mad?”
“It’s in your hair, and I know you hate washing it when it’s cold outside.”
Gripping his chin, she holds firmly. “I hate you, really. But I think we both need a shower anyway, after.”
Biting the side of her cheek and pulling from her grasp, he rests his head on his crooked elbow, beginning to wipe her down with his t-shirt. “After what?”
Propping up on her elbows, she drags a finger through the mess and licks it off like a lollipop. “After a haircut. Your hair is a shaggy mess.” She tugs at the curls starting to grow on the back of his neck.
“You’re going to give me a haircut?” He smiles in wonder. “Fine, fine. On one condition. You stay halfway naked, just as you are now.”
Caught midway with pulling off her sticky bra, she pauses. “That’s fine. I’m okay with that. Wrap up in a towel or something. Easier to clean up.” She climbs to a standing position and holds her hand to him. “We’re going out on the back porch anyway.”
“What? Fuck no. It’s cold. I hate cold. I don’t wanna be half naked outside.” He gets to his feet and holds her close before she steps from his reach.
Walking to the bathroom, she calls over his shoulder. “You set the clothing challenge. I’m just going with it. It won’t take that long to cut and there’s less to clean up ‘cause birds will carry the hairs away to build nests.”
He hears her banging away at the cabinet doors and she emerges with two towels and the razor set from under the sink. “You’re not kidding?” He responds by moving to the back door when she pushes on his back, wrapping a towel around his waist. “Have you ever cut hair before?”
“Chris, would you relax. It’s just a buzz. Running the electric razor over your head. It’s not that difficult.”
When Thalia opens the door, a whoosh of cold air greets them. She lays out the kit on the little side table and Chris watches the goosebumps rise on her skin, her dark nipples peaking in the cold. If it bothers her, she doesn’t say a word. Stubborn thing… She sets the chair in the center of the porch and motions him to sit down. He tries not to shiver at her touch or the cold but it’s such a jolt to his system after the warmth they’d just shared together. She wraps the other towel around his shoulders and gently blows on the back of his neck, telling him to look down. She quickly runs the blade up the back of his head a few times, the comforting whir of the familiar sound easing his mind. She blows on the back of his ear to brush away stray hairs and he can’t help but wiggle. “Sit still,” she giggles. “You don’t want it to look crooked.”
Walking around in front of him, she continues her task, her lovely breasts right in his face. She stops and breathes heavily when he pulls her close, latching his warm mouth over one of her cold tight buds. A few deep breaths and she regains her composure, returning to the job of trimming his hair. His nose slides down the valley between her breasts and he takes the other tip into his mouth, beginning to knead the one he just left. Her breasts feel larger, more full. He keeps his touches light, realizing in her state she might be tender. Her quiet moan is the only response she gives. Resting the arm holding the clippers over his shoulder, the buzzing still in his ear, with her other hand, she pushes his legs together and straddles his lap. Bowing his head to her chest, she carries on, small wisps of hair falling around them, tickling his nose and his shoulders. His tongue flicks over her breasts and she begins to grind over his lap, a rise and fall of her own as the shaver slides over the top of his head.
With the click of a button the sound stops and the razor clatters on the table. Her hands brush over his head, checking for hairs still too long. He pulls one leg away and balances her on one thigh as she continues her ride, his hands greedy on her ass, pulling at her flannel bottoms, and playfully smacking her behind. His mouth comes down roughly on her tattoo, the branch of orchids over the top curve of her breast, beautiful and sweet and highly erotic at the same time. He feels her grow tight in his arms and she digs her fingernails into his shoulders as she comes, crying out in little whimpers, snuggling close to his chest when she comes back down.
Chris pulls the towel around them both, kissing her tenderly as she falls from her eroticism.
“Holy shit,” she giggles. “Wasn’t really planning on that, but okay.”
“Niña, that was the most fucking awesome hair cut I’ve ever had.” She still trembles in his arms and he holds her tight a few minutes more. He’d carry her inside, but the whole threshold thing messes with his mind briefly and he waits till her legs are less jelly before insisting she go into the shower first.
The door closes behind him and he stands on the back porch, clearing their mess, his head full of thoughts. He’s distracted by the sight of two birds, hopping over to swipe his hair, chattering and chirping away at one another about their good fortune.
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