Prize

et ch 32 prize june 21 2017.jpg

Educating Thalia

Collaboration by @avenger-nerd-mom & @devikafernando

AU FICTION

Chapter 32

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

waking up in cabin.gif

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.

Click here for Chapter 33 Choose

Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

Drinking Games

et 22 Drinking Games may 17 2017.jpg

Educating Thalia

Chapter 22

Collaboration by @avenger-nerd-mom &  @devikafernando

AU FICTION

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: 2892

Warnings:  Language, Adult Situations, fluff, drinking, discussions of sex, designated driver

Summary:  Tom encounters Thalia late at night at the school library but food is the need for the evening.  But as usual with Tom, that leads to something more…

Click here for intro to Educating Thalia

The rain beats against the glass, matching his mood.  Walking down the row of books, he finds the volume he needs and pulls it down from the shelf.  His thoughts roam to a similar night months ago, and taking a chance, he turns to the left.   The vision in front of him lifts his spirits and with a smile and a chuckle, he crosses the dark and empty room.

“I thought I’d find you here, darling.”

Lost deep in her thoughts, her brow is furrowed when she lifts her head. The grin breaks across her face and reaches her eyes, a wide, friendly expression.  She is happy to see him.  “Hey, Tom.”  She pats the side of the couch next to her, with little fear of being discovered on a late Friday night.  He sits down, keeping his distance, though he does hit his leg against her knee before resting his ankle across his thigh.  “Just trying to get a few things finished so I can get some time to relax this weekend.”  Looking at the pile of books at her feet, she scoffs.  “Even if it is just five minutes.”

He looks at her quizzically, “I thought you had a family thing tomorrow, or something?”

She sighs.  “I do; Big Jim, from the bar?  His wife asked me over for an early dinner tomorrow before my shift.  I’ve just been so busy, I haven’t really had a chance to see her except when she stops by the bar.”  Thalia fidgets with the patch on her jeans.  “Do you… Do you want to go with me?”

Her hopeful smile tugs on his heartstrings.  “Oh darling.  I can’t.  Tomorrow is the day we go to New York with the students to the theatre district for their field study.  You planned it, remember?”

Her eyes grow wide.  “Shit, yeah.  I guess I totally have my dates mixed up.”  She looks at her phone screen and laughs.  “Yeah.  Ya know, it’ll be better as soon as I get this paper done for Masterson’s class.  If I pass it, I don’t have to attend class the rest of the term.  And I can sleep in two days a week!”  She playfully claps her hands together in glee.

Tom lays his arm on the back of the couch and plays with her dark curls.  “Are you afraid, dear, you won’t do well?”

“Perfectionist.  You know that.”  Her eyes close and she involuntarily leans towards him.  Whispering she tells, “Damn, you smell good.”

He chuckles quietly.  “You work too hard.  Is it so bad to fail?  There’s learning in failure too, Thalia.”

Her eyes pop open and she shifts in her seat.  “It’s not an option.  You know what it was like for me at Christmas.  If I go back home, I’ll be a teacher, or be a tour guide at a museum, or work with Dad at his shop.  I mean, I don’t mind getting dirty, but changing oil filters and knocking out babies isn’t how I want to live my life.  I want more than that.  I think that’s the one part of me that must come from my mother; wanting adventure and a grand life.  For me, I can’t get that in Chicago.  I want Cairo, Paris, hell, even Honduras looks pretty interesting right now with all the things I’m discovering.”  He tries to hide the scowl on his face from her reference to work with Evans; but at least the few extra hours on campus allows her to cut back late night hours at the bar.  “I want the mud on my boots to be worldly.”

Her passion speaks to him.  He remembers being young, and wanting those things too.  A wanderlust for new experiences and places to see.  “You’ll get those things, darling.  I believe you can make it happen.”

Just then, her stomach rumbles and they both share a laugh.  She pats her belly and whispers, “Shhh.  We’ll eat later.”

“Thalia, have you been here all evening?” Tom scolds, already knowing her answer. “Have you not eaten?”

Sheepishly, she hides behind her book.  He reaches over and pulls it down.  “That’s it.  We’re going to dinner.  Come on.”  He rises to standing and holds his hand out to her.  “I won’t take no for an answer.”

She reaches to him and allows herself to be pulled up.  “Tom, don’t be ridiculous.  I’m not dressed to go any place and-”

“Shush.  Come on.  We’ll go for wings and beer.”  He bends to pick up her books.  “Do you need all these for your work?”

She nods as she throws her pens and notebook in her bag.

“Thalia Bareo, you may be one of the last students on Earth who still loves book research.  Ever heard of a thing called ‘the Internet?’”  Tom teases as he adds two more books from the side table to the large stack in his arms.

“I like the written word, Professor.  The feel of the pages under my fingertips.”  Reaching for the book on the top of his stack, she opens it carefully, waving it under his nose.  “The smell of old books that haven’t been used in ages.”  She holds it to her face, inhaling the scent and cutely sneezing from the dust.  “That’s tangible, real.  It’s served me well, and this close to the end of my graduate work, I’m not changing anything.”

She takes several of the books from his arms and he follows her to the stairs, down to the checkout desk.  “Mrs. Hooperman? I didn’t know you were still on duty tonight.”  Tom greets the clerk brightly, setting the stack of books on the counter and taking the ones from Thalia as well.  “I had two items on reserve and tech was supposed to leave the delivery of my laptop here?”

The older woman eyes the two suspiciously, clacking a few buttons on her keyboard.  “Yes, Mr. Hiddleston.  Let me get those for you.  I’ll be right back.”

As the woman walks away, Thalia turns to Tom. “Wings?  Isn’t that rather beneath your fine dining tastes? Where are we going?”

Mimicking one of her signature moves, he rolls his eyes at her.  “We’re going to take this ridiculous stack of books to your car,” Tom tells as he puts on his winter coat, and helping Thalia into hers, his hands resting momentarily on her waist, “and walk across the street to Too Talls.”

Looking over her shoulder, Thalia turns back to Tom and briefly touches her fingers to his forehead and he momentarily feels burned by her touch.  “Are you crazy?  Do you have a fever?  Do you need to lie down?  That’s a campus bar!  Do you know how many people will be in there tonight?”

The light in the office down the hall flicks off and the clerk heads towards them.  Tom hisses, “I do need to lie down, with you by my side and I’m going to-”

The clerk clears her throat, stepping into their presence.  She makes a clucking sound in the back of her throat, quickly scanning Tom’s reserved materials and handing him a form to sign for the computer.  She smiles brightly at Thalia and the two make small talk, the woman complaining her Friday nights will be lonely once the young girl graduates.  “Thank you, Mrs. Hooperman.  And thank you for the recipe you gave me last week.  I really liked it.  It made perfect frozen meals!”

Gathering the books, Tom sighs.  “Mrs. Hooperman?  Could we borrow a basket for these?  We’ve worked late and I can help get them to her car, but she’ll have to bring them back on her own?”

“Yes, yes.  Good idea.  Let me find one.”  She turns to leave.

“You were saying?”  Thalia smiles.

“None of that now, girl.  Don’t get me worked up.  The math department was having a celebration and their assistants were invited.  We’ll sneak in on their gathering with the pretense we were working on the Gala presentation and needed a break.”

“I hate math,” Thalia shudders.  “Not my strong suit.  I mean, I’m functional, but I don’t get how someone would want to spend their life with numbers.  So boring and strict.  Words, history, those things change; matter.”

Tom chuckles.  “Don’t say that when we get over there, it could start a bar brawl; which I’m sure you could handle quite well, but- ah!  Mrs. Hooperman, perfect.  Thank you so much!”

She helps the two load the books into the box she found and Thalia takes Tom’s laptop and they head out into the night, thankful the rain has stopped.

#

By the time Tom walks into the bar, the place is in full swing. Searching the crowd it takes him a few minutes to spot Thalia standing next to the corner booth in the back, talking to the waitress.  He strides over to the bar, but before he can place an order, someone from the booth calls out to him.  “Hiddleston, old man, join us!” shouts a jovial if slightly intoxicated voice.

Shit.  It’s the guy from the math department whose name always escapes him.  They’ve played tennis before and Tom even attended a dreadfully boring dinner party at his home once, but Tom still can never remember the man’s name.  He’s got his arm up on the seat behind him, and Tom catches the casual way his fingertips drag across the shoulder of the young blonde sitting next to him.

Thalia nods her hello as he joins the group, and they are both invited to join the table.  There’s some shifting of seats and somehow the pair end up at the back of the booth sitting together.  The math professor teases, “Maybe you language buffs can help class this group up a bit.  I’m afraid we’ve taken our fair share of drinks tonight.”  His other arm sweeps out to the array of empty glasses and bottles on the table.

The waitress arrives and hands Thalia her drink, announcing the chicken wings will be up shortly and asking if anyone else would like to order.  Tom orders a cheeseburger and fries with a beer.  The group explains the reason for their celebration- two of the students will be joining the math nerds at NASA after graduation, so the professors wanted to thank them for their dedication.  “And how often do you get to really relax and know your students, right Tom?”

Tom simply nods as the redhead on his left slides a bit closer and begins asking him questions about life in London.  Thalia’s hand briefly scrapes across his thigh before she turns her attention to the conversation going on around her.

Drinks are served and food is shared and the group begins to get louder as the night wears on, finally leading to a drinking game.  Tom seems to have missed the rules of the game, and bows out, claiming designated driver status.  Thalia simply chuckles and raises an eyebrow at him, reaching for the shot placed in front of her.

The game seems to go on forever.  He’s learned more about Thalia than he truly has a right to know.  She’s taken drinks to reply to the most innocent questions, but some of the racier ones as well.  She’s never kissed a girl, but on the next question he learns that she’s fantasized about it.  She’s shoplifted, cheated on a test, and had sex while her parents were at home. The group coerced him to at least participate by drinking his own beer slowly, and the questions flow more freely as everyone begins to lose their inhibitions a bit.  No one seems fazed when the professor from the math department boldly places his hand on the back of the young woman’s neck as the game continues.  It’s as if the team knows of their connection?  Thalia catches his eye and the challenge flashing there quickly has him toss his head back in laughter.

A boy in a ballcap throws it all in by presenting to the table, “Never have I ever had sex with someone I work with….”

From the corner of his eye Tom can see Thalia lick the salt from her wrist as she prepares to down another shot, and he takes a long draw from his bottle of beer on the table.  As he watches cautiously the other student and professor down their drink, and he realizes the man’s arm is no longer behind the girl, but quite obviously in her lap.  Next to him, the redhead  whispers she’d like to know more about working with him next semester in the language department.  Tom shifts uncomfortably, sliding a bit closer to Thalia, and silently pushes his plate of fries to her.  With an innocent smile, she takes one, chewing quickly before slamming another shot in response to the statement ‘Never have I ever had sex in more than five cars.”

“Wait, wait, wait.”  Slurs the redhead.  “Thalia, you’ve been slammin’ ‘em back.  I’m gonna need some clarification.  Go with the last one.  Tell us about how you’ve had sex in more than five cars.”

The rest of the table agrees, hitting the shot glasses on the table and starting a chant, “tell us, tell us, tell us.”

Tom sits back, trying to keep the fire from his eyes.  He’s not liking this game too much, but it has been eye opening.  He struggles not to make eye contact with her, difficult to do as he can feel the heat rising through her body next to him.

She chuckles, resting her elbow on the table and reaching for another buffalo wing from the basket.  She begins to pick it apart and shrugs her shoulders.  “Well you assholes don’t have to act like it’s so unbelievable,” she huffs with a sarcastic smile.  “Not much to tell, but I can actually clear up three things you’ve learned about me.”  The tap of her leg against him lets him know her honesty is for his benefit.  “My dad owns an auto mechanic shop.  When I was in high school, I worked there and had a crush on the other guy that worked with us, about three years older than me.”  From the corner of his eye, he can see the blush rising across her cheeks, as she pauses to chew a bite of the chicken.  Wiping her fingers on a napkin, she continues.  “When Dad would go out on service calls, we would choose the nicest car in the shop and screw around in the back seat.  So there you have it- at work, with a co-worker, 5 or more cars.  Three things about me.”

“I call bullshit,” says the dark haired boy down the table from her.  Tom tenses, wondering what the boy might have to say.  “You’re a fuckin’ ice princess who never puts out.”

Thalia turns to him with a flash in her eyes, which quickly turns sympathetic.  “Aww, Caleb, are you still blaming your limp dick on my fat?”

The table goes wild, high fives, “oohs” and “she burned you!”  The girl next to him says, “Dude, she’s got you pegged!”

“Oh!  There’s a question!”  Someone chimes in.  “Never ever have I been-”

“Whoa!”  Thalia raises her voice, jumping from the bench.  “That’s my cue to leave.  You math department people are too hard core for me.  I’m out.”

She starts pushing the girl next to her and the three people on the outer end of the booth slide out for Thalia to make her exit.

The boy in the baseball cap teases, “What?  Us talking about ‘doing the beast with two backs’ is too much for you?  Thought you loved that Shakespeare shit?”

Thalia laughs, grabbing another chicken wing to go, wobbling for a moment on her feet.

Donaldo, Tom thinks, remembering his name, chimes in. “Hiddleston? She’s your teaching assistant.”  He gives the man a shove on his arm.  “You can’t let her go out into the dark night, half drunk and alone.  Be a gentleman and at least walk her to her car.”

The red head pipes up as Tom begins to slide out of the booth.  “Actually Professor,” her hand squeezing his thigh.  “I’m a little too drunk also.  Think you can give me a ride home?”

Bloody hell.  He sighs.  “Sure, why not?  Who else needs a ride?”  Seeing Thalia starting to walk away, he reaches his hand out to her arm and feels the spark of electricity between them.  He wants to get her alone quickly.  “Ms. Bar- Thalia.  Wait.  I’ll drive you and a few of the others home; you’ve all had a bit much to drink.”

She wobbles again.  “Really, sir,”  she smiles slowly.  “I haven’t had that much to drink.  It’s these damn heels.”

“Uh- huh.  Right.”  He steps closer to her, smelling the alcohol on her breath.  “Just wait.”

Turning back to the table, he sees the party is splitting up and one of the other faculty members from a smaller table nearby is offering to take a group home also.  The two men divide up the students based on where their ‘deliveries’ need to be made and Tom is more than pleased to note the redhead will be in the other car.  As the group exits the pub, he’s fairly sure she’s the one trying to grab his ass.

Click here to read Chapter 23 Ride Home

Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

Disclosure

et ch 20 disclosure may 10 2017.jpg

Disclosure

Chapter 20

Educating Thalia

Collaboration by @avenger-nerd-mom & @devikafernando

AU FICTION

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: 3263

Warnings:  Language, Adult Situations, angst, difficult real life discussions

Summary: Tom and Thalia sit down for a serious talk.

A special thanks to @deathbyukmen and @itsliterallythis for their advice and input on this chapter

Click here for intro to Educating Thalia

Enjoying light chatter over their coffee and chocolate cake, Tom feels Thalia holding back.  This late at night, the shop is nearly deserted.  Being far from campus, he reaches his hand across the table to her, moving his chair closer.  “Thalia, darling, you’re awfully quiet.  What’s on your mind?”

Turning his hand over in hers, she runs her fingertips over the ridges mapped across his palm.  “Ever wish sometimes you could see the future?  Know what was going to happen, Tom?”

He trembles at her touch, delighting in the sweet sensuality of it, but sits quietly, sensing she needs to gather her thoughts as she builds to whatever it is she wants to say.  She sighs and lays her palm against his, looking to him with her wide innocent eyes.  “Do you see a future in us together here, Tom?  I mean, what are we doing?”

His heart plummets to his stomach because he knows he doesn’t really have an answer for her.  Not a good one.  Not one that won’t hurt them both.

Reading her expression, he knows when she figures it out.

“It’s so complicated, Thalia.  I just-”  he huffs, pulling his hand back from hers and grasping it tightly, moving his leg to brush against hers; to connect.  “I just don’t know, and I don’t think there’s an easy answer.”

Giving his hand a squeeze, she removes hers from his grasp and leans back against the chair. Defensively, she crosses her arms over her chest, her glorious tits resting across the line she creates.  “Does it change anything since I’m just auditing your class this semester?  It’s not graded?  Can we be seen together now?”

Removing his glasses and resting them on the table, Tom roughly pushes across his forehead, having to face all the questions he’s asked himself over and over again late at night.  “Darling, I want nothing more than to hold your hand and walk across the Commons together, or grab lunch with you at one of the pubs right off campus.  You deserve that much, but you know we can’t. You still work for me.”

He watches as she runs her tongue across her teeth in thought.  Nodding, she offers,“So what if I quit?”

He chuckles.  “Then you really would need someone to take care of you and your finances, and you’ve made it painfully clear that’s not what you want.”

She makes a low growl in the back of her throat. “You don’t get it, do you?”  She rubs under her chin in frustration.  “It’s not that.  I mean, yes, I want my independence, but caring for someone is a give and take.  Tom, you give a lot, but you don’t let me care for you.  That bothers me.  This?”  She gestures her hand back and forth between them.  “This is the most we’ve communicated in weeks about us, and not about work or exhibits or whatever fucking piece of knowledge we’re trying to show off for each other.”  Her smile softens her words, but Tom still feels the punch.

She’s right.  Their time together is often a show, a game; part of her ‘education.’  Tom loves the dominance of it all, the ceremony, of enlightening her and watching her bend to his will as it becomes hers as well.  Like tonight in the theater.  ‘Fucking menace’ rings in his ears and he loves the throaty sound of her voice when it replays in his mind.  He made her want what he wanted, but not with malice. He’d never force her to do anything he didn’t think she’d like.  If she doesn’t want it, she knows the safe word…

“Are you listening, or are you in your own thoughts now?” she asks sharply.

Moving his leg against hers, he brings himself back to the conversation.  “Thalia, I’m just trying to think of the right response, to be honest.  The one that will make you stay; the one that won’t make you want to walk out of my life.  And I don’t know if there is one. What’s this all about, darling?  Does this have anything to do with talking to your friend today?”

Thalia’s eyes dart away and she bites her lip.  He can see her pulse rising as the blood rushes through the veins in her neck.  He worries about her response, sensing her physical discomfort.  He leans forward and rests his hand on her knee.  “Thalia, what’s wrong?  Tell me.”

“Shit,” she hisses out under her breath.  “Tom, it was… someone I knew, a friend, but… it was kind of a date.  It… It just kind of happened, and… and it wasn’t anything I planned and-” she stammers over her words.  “I feel bad you didn’t know ahead of time.  I wasn’t-”

Fuck.  He wasn’t expecting that.  He can’t deny the kick to his gut.  But her pained expression hurts him even more.  “Thalia, Thalia, stop. Stop.”  His fingers brush lightly over her thigh.  “It’s fine; it’s fine.  We said- ok, I said- we should see people to take suspicion off us.  I don’t need to know the details, as much as it pains me. We’re both adults, things happen.”  His stomach turns and he wants nothing more than to beat against his chest and claim ‘mine’ at the top of his lungs.  Possibly even throw her over his shoulder and run away with her, but that’s his foolish heart.  He has to think clearly from his head right now.

“I just didn’t want you to think it was planned out; or I was keeping anything from you.  It’s not something I would normally do, Tom.”  Low and quiet, her voice is full of sorrow and remorse. “It just… happened.”

“Hell, Thalia, it’s not like I planned on seducing you in the library months ago either,” he chuckles, trying to soothe her.  “It just happened.”  He smiles, repeating her words. “There is no easy way to render our situation.  Neither of us are at a point in our lives to make long term decisions, other than you following your career path.  It’s important to me that your reach your goals; I’m not here to sidetrack you.”  He gives her knee a gentle squeeze.  “I’m content where I am now with my work and happiest with you.”  He leans back and thoughtfully runs his hand over his scruff, trying to mask his turned down frown.  “But if you want to leave; if I’m not what you need, now is the time to do it… before any other investments are made, and either of us wind up broken.”

The tears shimmering in her eyes shatter him as he holds back his own.

She hits her leg against his, sliding it along his thigh. “Tom, that’s not what I want; I’m not looking to get out, but it’s all just so consuming.  You can be really intense.”

Wiping away her tears, her voice is raw with emotion.  “I sometimes feel like I forget how to be me.  I mean, I am ‘me’ when I’m with you, but it’s like a different version. The ‘learning me’ that wants to know everything you know, that wants you to show me.  Let’s be real- the “me” that wants you to make my sassy ass submit to you.”  She giggles, and the heave in her breasts as she pauses for a moment, possibly as her own thoughts of their times together pass through her mind, causes a tightening in his pants. Sighing deeply, she taps her fingers on the table top.  “But sometimes I just need to sit on my ass at home on my couch in my baggy sweatpants, you know what I mean?  I’ve been on the go too much lately, many times at your beck and call.”

Pulling down on his pants leg, he shifts in his seat.  “I’ll give you whatever you want, darling. I’ll try not to be so possessive of you, you are your own person, free to make your own choices.  I want to control you, yes, but not like that.  You understand that, don’t you?”

Actually with their arguments lately about her work and money, he doubted she did, although she gently nods her head. He’d pushed her away when he only wanted to hold her close, possibly driving her right into the arms of another man.  Damn his foolishness, but he knows he doesn’t really have the right to claim her.

“Thalia, if you’re asking me for a commitment, that’s something we don’t have the luxury of attaining right now.”  Her deep brown eyes look back to his, searching his face.  “You work for me; for my department.  You are a student. I can’t ask you to take risks like that with your academic career.  I care about you too much to let this be something to destroy your future, all you’ve worked for.”  Looking at his watch, he doesn’t want the night to end, but knows she needs to get home.  “Do we have to make any rash decisions tonight, darling?”

Thalia giggles as she stands up from her chair.  She sweetly pushes back the curl falling across his forehead and gives his hair a little tug.  “Do I have to make any decisions?”

Rising next to her, he places his arms around her waist and holds her close.  “So far it seems to work well when you let me make them?”

She playfully hits his chest.  “Isn’t that what this whole discussion was about?  My need for some independence?”

“I thought it was about making some sort of commitment?” He raises a questioning brow at her.

“Dammit.  It was that too.  You’re right.  It’s all just too complicated- but, sir, that doesn’t mean you get to make all the decisions.” She defiantly shakes her head once, making her curls bounce.

“Duly noted, Miss Bareo.”  His laughter echoes into the night, as he walks her back to her car in the newly fallen snow.

“You’re not mad?”  She clasps his face in her hands as she did earlier, tracing his prominent cheekbones and then his jawline lightly with her fingertips – and as soft as her touch is, it has a possessive feel to it and he allows the gesture to burn itself into his mind.

Placing his hands over hers, he wants to pause the moment in time.  The innocent expression on her face; the flakes of snow momentarily sticking in her hair.  She’s going to break his heart.  It has to be that way, because he knows he couldn’t live with himself if he broke hers.

“No, Thalia, dear, how can I be mad when you did what I said to do- I said ‘date’ and you did?”  He releases her hands, nodding as she pulls a pair of bright blue gloves from her pockets and slides them on.  “You’ve been upfront with me, and that’s honestly more than I could have asked for.  Just please tell me it’s not that prat from our class?

“Oh, God, no.”  Tom leans in to start her car and turn on the heat while the two share a laugh about the frat boy and his ridiculous comments on the works of Shakespeare, stomping their feet in the cold to stay warm.

“Darling, are you sure you won’t go with me tonight?  I don’t want to push you…”

She places her gloved hand tenderly against his chest.  “Sometimes I like it when you push me,” she teases, cocking her eyebrow.  “But I really do need to finish some studies up, and my application for Paris is due at the end of the week.”

“Say no more.  I understand that there are more important matters tonight.  Will I see you tomorrow?”  Tom can’t keep the hope out of his voice, and the look in her eyes is full of understanding, which only makes him feel worse.

“Of course, and our date is Tuesday?”  She pulls the collar of his coat up, tighter around his neck.

“I already have reservations made.  Think of it as preparation for France!”  He winks, waiting to see her response.

“French food?  Please don’t make me eat snails,”  Thalia says, eyeing him warily.  “And don’t be so cocky.  If I don’t get that internship, I’ll want to drown myself in buckets of ice cream.”

“I promise.  No snails.”  Tom crosses his fingers over his heart. “And if that happens, we can eat all the ice cream you want, darling.” Mirroring her earlier gesture, he cups her chubby-cheeked face and leans in for a kiss that is gentle yet firm at the same time. He makes it last as long as he can, wishing he didn’t have to let go. “Good night, Thalia.”

“Good night, Tom.” The smile she gives him seems to come straight from her heart, but there’s a wistful, almost sad edge to it that makes his heart clench.  He hates feeling like he can’t be all she needs, but she’s young and still needs to spread her wings.

Closing the door for her, he waves a little goodbye and strides away quickly, willing himself not to look back as her car drives away.

#

Chris has an extra bounce in his step as he heads to his office.  With the displays needing to be readied for the local historian group, the head of the history department agreed a part-time assistant seemed like a logical plan for completing the work on time.  His meeting in the office of student affairs also went well, and they approved his request for an assistant if the student was interested in the work.

Passing by the workroom, he hears her laughter and it fills him with joy.  He slows down, stopping at the doorway.  She’s with him and they are chatting over cooling mugs.  Probably hot tea.  Who drinks that shit anyway?  Time to rescue the damsel from the boring Brit.

“Ah, Miss Bareo!  Just the student I was looking for,” he announces as he steps into the room, throwing his leather satchel on the nearest table.

She jumps on her feet and Hiddleston returns his usual scowl.

Timidly, a blush rising on her freckled cheeks, she responds.  “Professor Evans?  You were looking for me?”

Reaching into the staff fridge, he procures a carton of yogurt and tosses money in the cup on the counter.  “I’ve just been down to the office of student affairs, needing short term assistance on the project for the local historical chapter and they recommended you, if you have the time available?”

Her eyes grow huge and Hiddleston turns to look at her, obviously flustered.

Chris winks at her behind the other man’s back and smiles, adopting a more casual demeanor as he sits at the table, propping his feet up on the chair across from him.  “Oh, hey, I forgot a spoon.  Can you hand me one?”

“Evans, for heaven’s sake, an assistant isn’t a slave. And you look like a barbarian in a public place with your feet propped up like that. I’m certain Ms. Bareo already has her hands full with-”

His British demeanor gets on Chris’s nerves, but it’s equally fun because he knows he crawls under the lanky man’s skin as well.  So he’ll drag this out just for fun.  Class doesn’t start for another ninety minutes.  He’s got nothing better to do.

Clearing her throat, both men look at her as she steps forward and hands Professor Evans a spoon. Chris notices she’s closer to the door for an exit.  She needn’t worry.  He has no plans to spill their little secret, for fear of getting her expelled or himself fired.

With a bit more confidence in her voice, she addresses the gentleman standing at the counter.  “Professor Hiddleston, I appreciate your concern, but if a student is recommended by the office, the pay is more per hour.  That extra pay helps my expenditures that aren’t covered by the university when I go on expeditions.  You know, sir, I’m fully capable of taking directions to complete a task in a timely fashion.”  She pauses thoughtfully, gathering some papers from the table.  “It would also allow me to cut back some hours at the bar.”  She says quietly, turning and  smiling warily to Professor Evans.  ”How many hours a week do you need help?”

“Six, maybe eight.  I really don’t think it will be more than that.  There’s not a lot of work, really, but I’m busy editing my next book.  I just need help until the exhibit is ready, after the Alumni Gala in late-March.”  He licks the spoon wickedly, hoping to see a rise from her as Hiddleston turns back to the counter to rinse out his mug.  Chris bites back his laughter when she runs her middle finger across her perfectly arched eyebrow.  “And on days there isn’t much to do, I can always find other work.  Word has it you are great at grading freshman essays, Miss Bareo.”

Hiddleston and Thalia both groan and Chris joins in their laughter.  “The state of the American education system is appalling,” Hiddleston laments.

“Well, gentlemen, as a product of the American education system, I must get to my next class.   Wouldn’t want my brain to turn to mush so my professors can talk about me behind my back.  I’d really hate that,” she says somewhat sharply, her eyes on Chris.  “What are your office hours, Professor Evans?  I won’t be available to start till the day after next?”

Running his hand around his bicep in the sweater he was wearing the other night, he stretches back in his chair.  “Thursday? I have a commitment that morning at my daughter’s daycare, but I can be in the office by 10:00?  Will that work for you?”

“I’ll check my schedule and if it doesn’t, I’ll be in touch.  And Professor Hiddleston, please don’t forget we have the meeting with the drama department today at four to discuss the accuracy of props.  And then you said something about a study of French culture this evening, is that right?”

“Yes, Ms. Bareo.  Thank you, and thank you again for the lovely cup of tea.  You’re getting quite good at fixing it.”

She blushes and dips her head, exiting the room quickly.  Chris watches her walk away, that sweet little sway to her ass.

Snapping his fingers to break his stare, Hiddleston barks at him.  “Evans? What are you on about?  That girl does not have time for your busy work.  She’s working towards attaining some of the most prestigious honors our University offers and interviewing for internships.” Hiddleston wipes down the counter and hangs the towel to dry, “as well as putting the final touches on our research for publication.  If I find out you have her grading freshman essays, I’ll lodge a complaint to the Dean.”

“Cool it.” Rising from his seat, he cleans his trash.  “I know she’s an intelligent woman.  She’s been in my class and I’m familiar with her work.  The exhibit is important for us to receive more funding for an archeological dig in Honduras that might interest her.  I’m trying to aid a student who deserves it.”

“She doesn’t need your kind of aid,” Tom comments vehemently. “I may be fairly new around here, but I’ve heard the stories about you and the help you give your female students.”

Placing his bag over his shoulder and across his chest, Chris replies, “Man, you’re a real prick.  I’m not even gonna defend that with a response.”  Placing his spoon in the sink, he exits the room without another word.

Click to Chapter 21 Bliss

Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

A Night at the Movies

ET ch 19 May 7 2017

Educating Thalia

Chapter 19

Collaboration by @devikafernando & @avenger-nerd-mom

AU FICTION

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: 3934

Warnings:  Language, Adult Situations, NSFW, Dom Tom, sex in a public place, fingering, exhibitionism

Summary: Tom takes Thalia out on a date to the movies – and he has much more planned than just watching the screen!

Click here for intro to Educating Thalia

Tom approaches their meeting point in his car, anticipation making him drum his fingers on the steering wheel. He’s looking forward to spending some quality time with Thalia. Even though – or maybe because – they see each other every day at work, he’s been missing her.

It should probably bother him that he’s grown so attached to her, that he feels a little possessive pinch every time he sees her in someone else’s company – even if it’s just other students – but it doesn’t.

In the past, he used to overthink everything, and all that ever did for him was make him brood and steal his happiness. So for the past few years, he’s taken things at face value, has stopped questioning himself. His brain might be telling him that he’s inviting trouble by ‘dating’ Thalia, but his heart insists that it’s exactly the right thing.

“Shut up, brain,” Tom mutters under his breath, “just lose yourself in Shakespeare sonnets so my heart can get what it wants.”

He’s even considered going to the bar on the outskirts of town where Thalia works off and on. There’s a curious part inside him that wants to watch her in an environment completely different from campus. He has a feeling it brings out her tough side, the one that is closely linked to the sassiness she lets shine through the more he gets to know her.  He’s heard talk from students and faculty who have visited the bar about how she handles the tough guys and takes no shit, of how she somehow rises above all the drunken stupor, boisterous shouts, sullen drinking and rowdy games.

But Tom isn’t a bar guy at all, and it’s a ‘local’ bar, not designed for the college crowd. Something, a different voice at the back of his head, cautions him that it wouldn’t do him any good to stalk her like that. Perhaps it’s better this way. Perhaps she needs a domain that’s exclusively hers, where she knows she isn’t watched by him and can be whoever she chooses to be.

He rounds the corner, slowing the car a little when the movie theater comes into view. For a moment, he wishes he could just pick her up at home, maybe have her invite him up for a cup of tea and some lazy kisses on the couch.

Turning right, he steers the silver Lexus into the parking lot.

There she is. Thalia is standing next to her cute little junky excuse for a car, her riotous curls tamed by a ridiculously long, pink scarf wrapped around her neck a dozen times and still hanging down to the hem of her knee-length skirt. Her coat and her skirt are black, so the splash of hot, feminine color is twice as striking from the distance. She’s stomping her bare legs in the cold, wearing her signature cowboy boots. Her hands are stuffed in her coat pockets, and she’s not watching the area for him but waiting with her head half-lowered.

When she hears the approaching car, she looks up, and he notices her thoughtful expression before a smile slowly transforms her face.

Tom parks a little away and gets out, shuddering once at the cold. He should’ve brought his own scarf. Then again, they weren’t planning on walking but on watching a special screening of Coriolanus, a stage play performed recently in London and now released worldwide for select theaters.

Pulling the hood of his coat tight around his neck, he ignores the fog on his glasses as he approaches. His lips stretch in an answering smile, forming laughter lines around his eyes.

“Fancy meeting you here, Miss Bareo,” he says with the lift of a brow. “Then again, I do know you’re a huge Shakespeare fan too.”

Her smile falters a little and she lifts a hand to tug on her orchid-pink enormity of a scarf.

“Who could resist the Bard – especially if such magnificent actors reenact one of his best plays?”

Shooting a glance left and right, Tom comes closer. He can’t help himself, he needs to touch her. There’s nobody to be seen anywhere near, and as the car park is at the back of the building, they’re in no danger of being discovered.

He leans closer and wraps her in his arms, inhaling her unique scent mixed with wool and biting winter cold.

Thalia takes a moment, then melts into his embrace, her arms coming up around his waist to press herself closer.

They remain like this for a precious moment while Tom resists the temptation to kiss her.

A gust of wind makes her shiver against him, and he rubs her back.

“Let’s go inside. We’re a bit early, but I can’t wait to feel warmer.”

She nods and they step away from each other, walking into the building. They’re close enough for their arms to touch, and Tom brushes a finger softly over her hand before putting a tiny bit more distance between them.

The next few minutes are spent exploring the place with all its Shakespeare-themed posters and paraphernalia, and then bickering goodnaturedly over what snacks to buy and what is the correct way to eat one’s popcorn. Tom insists on carrying their drinks and snacks, and he watches mesmerized as she unwraps those seemingly infinite layers of scarf and then loops the soft material around a hand so it’s finally small enough to stuff into a coat pocket.

He takes her to the hall, which is half empty. Their seats are at the very back. There are a few people right at the front, and judging from their animated talk they are Shakespeare enthusiasts. Several of the seats in the middle rows are occupied by younger and older couples who obviously had the same idea as Tom and want to share some privacy, probably not caring much for Coriolanus.

They settle down, Tom helping Thalia out of her coat because the place is surprisingly warm. She’s wearing a pink sweater underneath that is exactly the same shade as her scarf and stretches fetchingly across her ample breasts. He runs a hand over her shoulder and down her arm, briefly entangling their hands.

“Pretty. You don’t just smell like orchids, you look like them too.”

She raises her brows at him. “Ever the complementing gentleman, huh?”

“Why, of course.” He feigns shock, clutching his chest. “I couldn’t possibly not pay you a compliment about your outfit before we get down to business. About a million dead ancestors would roll over in their graves.”

That makes her giggle. “And what on earth do you mean with ‘getting down to business’, Professor?” she asks, her brows rising even higher.

He gives her his most innocent puppy-dog face. “Oh, just a general way of summarizing whatever may or may not happen during the next few hours.”

Now she’s narrowing her eyes at him, getting that sharp look of curiosity and intelligence that he loves so much.

“I thought we came here to watch a play?”

“Among other things,” he says airily and holds down a seat for her.

With an eye roll, she sits down, her skirt riding up to her thick thighs and making his hands itch to explore.

Tom takes a seat next to her and hands her the Coke. “Did you know that critics consider Coriolanus as the most opaque of Shakespeare’s tragic heroes? Compared with other grand works like Macbeth or King Lear, there’s hardly a revelation of his motives or a soliloquy. It makes him appear more like those ancient classical literature heroes like Odysseus or Achilles.”

Thalia cocks her head a little, listening intently. “Interesting. Wouldn’t that make him kind of difficult to sympathize with?”

“It does, yeah. Perhaps that’s why this play isn’t performed as much as others.”

“I heard there was a movie starring Ralph Fiennes that gave the story a modern twist?” Thalia asks, momentarily distracting him from lecture mode when she gulps a bit of her soda and licks a drop from her lips.

“Uh… yes. Yes, you’re right. A highly acclaimed actor and a stunning, quite provocative movie. Then again, today’s interpretation has earned a lot of praise too. There’s all that pride and militarism and Roman grandeur, but also so much subtle background story.”

They spend the next few minutes talking about the play and then veer to small talk, and something feels a little odd to Tom. Thalia seems distant, a bit subdued almost, although her smile – when she does smile – reaches her eyes.

Didn’t she mention she’d been with a friend? But that should have left her in a good mood.  He wonders why she isn’t as enthusiastic or flirty as he’d hoped?

Deciding to pull her out of her thoughts during another lull in conversation, Tom says, “You know, I’ve been in a couple of Shakespeare plays myself.”

That does catch her attention. She gapes at him, a handful of popcorn halted in mid-air.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He grins. “I swear, scout’s honor.”

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for an actor, Professor Hiddleston.” Wide-eyed, she grins back at him. “Tell me all about your acting career.”

With a sheepish smile, Tom rubs the back of his neck. “It’s not actual acting, just a bit of dabbling. It was for a college play both times, actually. I starred in Cymbeline and Othello. It was fun, once I’d died a thousand deaths of mortification.”

He’s interrupted by the lights going out and the sounds of people settling down for the movie.

For the next half an hour, they’re much too intrigued and enthralled by the play to talk much. They munch on their snacks, off and on elbowing each other or exchanging a glance or tugging on a sleeve when they want to share their delight.

When a shift of her body makes her skirt ride up higher, Tom remembers what had been his plan today.

Leaning over, he nuzzles her hair softly before taking her arm and draping it over the back of his seat so he can get closer and lean against it. She makes a content little sound, and after a moment, her head drops to his shoulder. It’s dark enough for them not to fear discovery.

Tom switches his popcorn to the other hand and rests his free hand on her knee. Thalia shoots him a glance but focuses on the shouting Roman general again when he simply keeps it in place.

He waits until she’s so immersed in the play that he will catch her off guard. Slowly, he lets his hand wander higher until he slinks it beneath the hem of her skirt and runs his nails over the inside of her thigh.

Thalia’s legs close, effectively trapping his hand between them.

“What are you doing?” she hisses out of the corner of a mouth, staring determinedly ahead.

The light is too low, but he bets she’s blushing.

“I think I’ve had enough popcorn. I’m hungry for a different kind of treat,” he murmurs, keeping his voice low and letting it drop to the deeper register that always works wonders with her.

He feels her shiver. When he wiggles his fingers against her skin, her legs open ever so slightly. It gives him enough room to slide his hand higher until his fingertips are brushing the crease where skin meets panties.

“Are you up for some naughty shenanigans, Miss Bareo?” he asks, leaning close enough to her ear that his breath fans warmly over her.

He sees her grip tighten on her popcorn bag before she draws in a deep breath.

“What kind of shenanigans did you have in mind, Professor Hiddleston?” she asks back in the same low tone.

“Let me surprise you, darling.”

A few seconds tick by, making him wonder again why she’s not as responsive to him today. But then she nods, and he licks his lips in anticipation.

“We’re in the last row, remember. Nobody can see us. And everyone’s either too busy making out or watching the play to notice anything out of order.  And you remember our safe word?”  Sexual encounters in a public place aren’t for everyone, and he wants her to know she has an out if she chooses.

She nods again.

“Are you a good girl, Thalia?” His voice is even lower and deeper now.

“Yes…sir.”

God, she remembered that. Tom feels himself grow harder and adjusts his position surreptitiously.

“Then you deserve a treat. Spread your legs wider, love.”

Thalia complies, her gaze never leaving the screen. He can hear her breath come a little faster.

Bending his wrist a bit, he runs his fingers softly over the front of her panties, stroking rhythmically without touching high enough to brush her clit. After a few strokes, the fabric goes damp.

Her popcorn bag wobbles in her now unsteady grip, so she sets it down in the seat next to her and puts her empty hand into her lap. It clenches into a fist when he moves his fingers higher and adds some pressure, rubbing over the hidden nub.

In the dim light, he can see her dig her teeth into her lower lip.

“Do you trust me, darling?”

“Yes.” Her voice is husky.

Tom leans closer still, speaking with his lips pressed against the shell of her ear.

“Then be a very good girl for me and take your panties off.”

“What?” It comes out as a mix between a soft shout and a startled squeak. From somewhere, a voice shushes them, and he can feel her muscles grow tense.

Tutting softly, he gives her clothed clit a pinch that makes her jerk and suck in her breath. Her eyes are on him now, wide and dark.

“Take them off. Now. And I’ll reward you.”

He removes his hand from under her skirt and shrugs out of his coat, draping it strategically over their laps. Moving with deliberate jerkiness, he knocks a chocolate bar down.

“Bend to pick this up and use it as a pretense.”

She holds his gaze for a moment, her breasts heaving with unsteady breaths.

“Hell, Tom, you’re a fucking menace,” she mutters darkly.

“And you love it,” he whispers back with a smirk, his cock twitching when she moves to obey his command.

Wriggling a little under the cover of the coat, Thalia slips her panties down and slowly lifts a foot at a time out of it while grabbing the wrapped candy.

“Hand them to me.”

Avoiding his gaze this time, she drops the wadded damp silk fabric into his waiting hand and he pockets it.

They settle down, watching the play for several minutes as if nothing happened.

Tom takes her hand, entwining their fingers and squeezing reassuringly. He can feel her shift, crossing and uncrossing her legs and fully aware of going commando in a movie theater.

“Have you ever had a quickie, Thalia?” he asks, taking care to keep his voice as low as possible. He brushes his leg against hers. “Some forbidden little tryst in the restroom or up against the wall in a dark corner?”

She sucks in another breath. “No.”

“Wrong answer. You should say ‘no, not yet’. How about I introduce you to the thrill of that one day?”

Her grip on his hand tightens like a vice.

“Would you like that? To let me pull you to a semi-secluded place and grind against you, plunging my tongue into your mouth and my fingers into your sopping cunt? Would you wrap your legs around me and let me take you so hard and fast you see stars? Make you feel so good that you’ve never wanted to scream more in your life but know you can’t? Would you let me fuck you so mercilessly that I’ll have to clamp my hand over your mouth and let you bite my fingers so nobody can hear you when you come all over my cock?”

He hears her mutter expletives in Spanish and English and can’t hold back a devilish smirk, although he’s enjoying this so much that his trousers are way too tight now.

“Does the thought of it make you wet?” he taunts softly. “Shall we verify that, love?”

Tom moves their joined hands beneath the coat and her skirt, brushing over the inside of her trembling thigh and inexorably closer to the Promised Land.

He touches her slick folds, their tangled fingers stroking and spreading the proof of her arousal. Biting back a groan of his own, he listens to her needy, soft whine. After a minute of stroking, her hips rise, her breath a harsh pant that only he is close enough to hear.

“More, darling? Want me to make you come right here and right now?”

“Fff…. god yes. I hate you for this, but… yes. Make me come. Please, Tom.”

“As you wish, darling.”

He tugs free of her grasp and moves her hand to her own thigh. “Dig your fingers in and hold on for the ride.”

Tom leans over her on the pretense of adjusting his coat over her, and it allows him more flexibility. At the same time when he slides two fingers into her soaking heat, he bends to capture her lips in a kiss.

He knows they’re not the only couple kissing at the moment, but nobody will be the wiser that he does it to swallow up the moans now rising from deep in her chest.

Without further teasing, he crooks his fingers up inside her to rub over the spot that will trigger her release. He rubs his thumb over her swollen nub and glides his tongue into her mouth, dancing with hers as she gasps, freezes and then clamps rhythmically around him.

While stifling her whimper and his own, he slows his movements to bring her down from her high.

Once she has stopped convulsing around him, he pulls out and settles somewhat painfully in his seat, his erection straining to have some fun too. He waits until she focuses hazily on him before he brings the slick digits to his mouth and licks them clean.

“Definitely tastier than the sweets they sell here,” he growls before stealing another breathless kiss from her.

Thalia slumps in her seat, so dazed she doesn’t even ask for her panties back.

“I think you’ve ruined Shakespeare for me,” she says amidst soft pants, and he can hear the reluctant grin in her husky voice. “I’ll never be able to talk about Coriolanus again without remembering this.”

“Likewise, darling,” he admits with a chuckle.  “And I have to present it once a semester in class.”

She catches him totally by surprise when her hand slides over his bulge and squeezes gently.

“Let me help you too?”

Tom presses her hand down, forcing himself not to buck into the more than welcome warmth so close to where he’s dying for her.

“Not here, darling. I need to be inside you, and I haven’t made you come nearly enough yet.”

He laces his fingers with hers, keeping their hands on his lap but out of the danger zone, not entirely sure that he’ll be able to control the monster he’s unleashed. Since Chicago, she’s a little more forward, more daring, and he loves it, but it also fills him with the weirdest wistful ache deep inside. For she isn’t his, as much as he wants to convince himself otherwise.  She’s like a wild creature who needs freedom, who shouldn’t be tamed, but could stand a little training.  As much as he wants her to himself, he reminds himself to be realistic. He can’t keep her forever.

That thought sits with him, a lump in his chest, and he can’t focus on the film before him, although the portrayal is amazing work. The rest of the play goes by in a blur, neither of them paying full attention or finishing the snacks, although his throat is parched with longing and he could guzzle two bottles of water right about now.

Tom rises as soon as the credits start rolling, tugging her out with him before people might take notice of who had occupied the last row.

They dump their stuff on a bench in the lobby and juggle their clothes, Tom taking it upon himself to wrap her in the never-ending loop of her scarf and nuzzling the softer than soft material that smells of her.

“Where would you like to go now?” he asks her. “I could rent us another hotel room and order take-away or room service?”

Something shifts in her face, which is still slightly flushed. She looks away for a moment and takes a deep breath.

They’re in a corner towards the back, alone for the moment. After checking left and right, Thalia takes his face in her hands. It’s an odd gesture, the tenderness of it jolting through him.

“Will…will you be mad if I decline?” she asks, her voice a little uncertain.

Tom feels something heavy settle on his chest and sinking lower into his gut.

There it is again, a small sign that something is off today.

He’d love to know why she’s reacting like this, but he knows it’s none of his business unless she wants to share it with him. So, he forces a smile onto his face, happy when it brings the spark back into her beautiful eyes.

“I have no right to be mad at you, Thalia,” he says. “Please don’t ever think you’re in any way obliged to spend time with me.”

She nods once, letting go of his face. He wants her hands back there, where they feel as if they belong. He wants her in his arms, in his bed, goddammit.

“Tom,” at the sound of his name he knows their little game is over for today.  “Don’t be that way. I love being with you, but I’m…tired. And I didn’t get much studying done this afternoon, because I was getting ready to see you.  This was a nice surprise for our ‘day off,’ but can we just go grab a quick cup of coffee? Maybe sit and talk for a bit? I’d really like that.”

Tom feels himself nodding like a loon, hears himself speak in a tone that grates on his nerves because the cheerfulness is all fake. “Sure, totally fine with me. There’s a great little bakery just around the corner?”

Her hand gently runs across the stubble on his chin as she teases, “You always know the best places to eat!”

He feigns a chuckle, and something in her expression tells him she’s seeing right through the farce.

Shit, he didn’t think it would be so difficult to face rejection from her. Not so soon, not like this when they’ve barely explored all the magnificent possibilities, but he feels like she’s leaving him behind.  Like something is weighing heavy on her beautiful mind.

Then again, he’s probably taking this far too seriously. Everyone has a bad day once in awhile. He shouldn’t read anything into this.

Pulling himself together, he leans in and kisses her on both cheeks, lips lingering a tad too close to her mouth.

“And I’ll share them all with you, love,” he says quietly, trying to mask the sinking feeling in his stomach. Buoyed when she links her arm around his, she pushes them out the door and onto the deserted sidewalk.

“Come on, Professor. Although I quite enjoyed the reasoning behind your clothing request, I’m freezing now. Let’s go!”

Click here to read Chapter 20 Disclosure

Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

Morning After

ET ch 17 Morning After

Educating Thalia

Chapter 17

Collaboration by @avenger-nerd-mom & @devikafernando

AU FICTION

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: 3185

Warnings:  Language, Adult Situations, fluff, heavy life discussions

Summary:  Chris learns more about Thalia over a homemade breakfast together.  He finds there’s more to the dark-haired beauty than meets the eye…

Click here for intro to Educating Thalia

He turns her in his arms and clasps his hands over her rounded ass, holding her tight in the locked cage of his beefy arms.  Through the gap in the sheet twisted around her body, his cock fits against her hot pussy, seeking her out again.

“Oh, no.  We’re not going for Four now.  Food.  I’m starving,” she chuckles, pushing hard against his chest.

Her touch has a power over him, but no strength to actually move him.  He smiles and teases.  “Oh, that’s cute you think you could move me!”

He halts when she points to her gym membership card on the dresser and shoves him a bit harder.  Not expecting it, he totters just a bit and throws his head back in laughter as she pulls free of his hold.  Shit, she could probably kick his ass…

Moving to the closet, she gathers clothes and steps towards the doorway, then stops and throws the clothes on the bed.  She rolls her eyes.  “What’s the point? You’ve already seen me naked and didn’t run off…”

If anything it made him want to run closer to her.  He looks around for his clothes but pauses to watch her thoughtfully as she dresses.  He doesn’t want to go home to his empty condo. “Enough of that… you’re a sensual goddess, and I don’t wanna hear any more about that.” He looks to her smartly when she audibly scoffs.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” he points.  “I’ll do everything I can to make you believe me.”  He catches a pair of sweatpants she tosses to him and with a shrug, puts them on.  “Hungry, huh?  Last night you said pancakes.  What if I make pancakes while you study?”

Looking up from tying her loose sweats, her jaw momentarily drops.  “You wanna cook for me?”

“It’s mix and water.  It’s not that hard,” he replies, still feeling like a manly man for offering, but pancakes, he can do.

Pulling a superhero t shirt over her head she returns his laughter.  “Mix?  I don’t know what women you’ve been with, but real women make their pancakes from scratch.”  She runs her hand down his chest, straightening out the twisted elastic at his waist and then pulling it back and releasing it with a snap before leaving the room.

“Fuck,” Chris whispers following her out of the bedroom.  “From scratch?”

He watches her gather measuring spoons and a large skillet.  She opens a cabinet door and points to a recipe taped inside.  “It’s easy.  The one my stepmother always uses,” she explains.  “It says ‘vanilla optional.’ It’s not.  Add the vanilla,” Thalia requests.  “Are you sure?  I can make them quick, or even call the diner and pre-order something?”

Washing his hands, Chris grins at her.  “Sit down and study.  I can handle a Sunday morning breakfast.”

He notices her pause as she gathers some books to sit at the kitchen table.  Measuring out the flour and sugar he can feel her eyes on him and knows she’s studying anatomy and not… whatever it is she’s supposed to be studying right now.

“Chris,” her curious voice interrupts him as he dollops the first serving of batter into the warm pan.  “The comment about ‘women you’ve been with?’ I shouldn’t have said that…  I’m really sorry.  I… I just remembered stuff I’ve heard in the faculty workroom…  So?  It was a pretty bad divorce?”

Running his hand over his mouth and down his beard, his eyes sadden, nodding his head.  Scratching his eyebrow, he tells her, “I appreciate your concern, but I really don’t wanna talk about it.  That’s what I have therapy for.”

“Ok.  Fair enough…” She watches as he expertly flips the pancakes, biting her lip.  “You also made the perfect braid… “ she smiles, playing with her now loose tresses..  “A daughter?  How old is she?”

Opening a cabinet and finding the plates, Chris pulls two down and places them on the counter.  Turning, he rests his hip against the counter and smiles brightly.  “Avery is five; she’s my light…  Her mother wouldn’t let me see her last night.  That’s how I ended up drunk in a bar…  The last two times I was supposed to see her, there’s been some lame excuse.”

Turning back, he takes the pancakes off the heat and serves them up on the plates.  Thalia moves her books to the side, and he feels bad she’s not getting any studying accomplished.

When he sets the plate in front of her, she touches his arm.  “I bet you’re a good dad.  Don’t give up.  Your ex will see you’re trying, no matter what your differences are, and she can’t deny the facts.”

Sitting down at the little table with her, his large legs bump against hers and he enjoys her comfort.  “Thank you; I’m trying.  Some days are just easier, you know.”

Looking to a photo on the shelf of an older man, obviously her father, she nods her head and looks back to her plate.  “Yea, I do.”  She cuts up her pancakes and reaches for the syrup, her hand brushing his as he grabs for it at the same time.  “These look amazing.  You did good.”

They enjoy a friendly breakfast.  Chris asks her about the funeral notice and she tells her about her friend and he shares a few stories about Avery.  The speed with which they’ve settled in with one another alarms Chris and he already feels a tug on his conscious, trying to tell himself again she’s a student, and this is so damn wrong.

But he doesn’t really fucking care.

The pancakes were pretty damn good, for a first try, and he’ll remember to add vanilla the next time he makes some, even if he uses a mix.  Clearing away the table, she begins to rise but he stops her.  “No.  Study.  I’m in your way.  I really need to go.”

She smiles sweetly, tilting her head.  “Oh, I don’t know.  It’s kinda nice to have a man around,” she places her empty plate in his outreached hand.  “I mean, you should probably go get dressed, so I’m not distracted, but I’m going to study, really.  Once I get into it, I’ll focus…  You are welcome to stay.”

“I do have some emails I could answer, some papers to grade.  Not all of us have grad students to do that for us,” he comments wryly, placing the dishes in the sink, catching the blush rise on her cheeks.

“Professor Evans,” Thalia announces sternly and with authority, “any faculty member needing assistance simply has to apply in the office of student affairs.  It’s work study and helps keep tuition down for the students like me.  You can request short term help with things like grading tests and papers, or long term assistance if you were working on a large research project for the University.”

“God, please don’t call me ‘Professor.’  I really fuckin’ hate that title.  It sounds so pretentious.  And I try to be anything but that.  ‘Pretty boy.’  That’s a title I could get used to,” he teases.

Her eyes widen as she remembers talking to Jim before leaving the bar last night.  She cringes.  “It was so noisy!  How did you hear that?” she asks incredulously.

“I never reveal my sources,” he taunts, heading to her room to change back into his clothes.

Returning to the kitchen a few minutes later, Chris sits back down and powers up his phone, a question bugging at the back of his mind.  “So what’s the story with Jim, anyway?  He seems very protective of you.”

Looking up from her tablet, she opens a textbook and smiles. “That’s Papa Jim.  He and my dad were in Desert Storm together and have been like brothers ever since… he and his wife were so excited when I was accepted to school here.”  She glances at her scribbled notes and flips to another section of the book, looking over to Chris.  “To save money, they actually helped me establish residency here and I lived with them for about two and a half years, until I felt secure enough to afford an apartment with friends.”

Chris can’t keep his eyes off her.  Her little movements and quirks.  She’s fascinating to watch.  She twists her hair away from her face and ties it in a loose bun, sticking a pencil through the thick knot to hold it in place.  How is that even possible?

“Worst six months of my life, that apartment.  They thought it was party central…  I was so glad to get out of that lease when I went over to study in Europe the first time.”  She shivers at an old memory.  “And a friend stayed here and took over my lease this last summer when I was working on some research in England.”  Looking around the room, it’s like she’s seeing it again for the first time, maybe through his eyes.  “I like it here.  It’s cramped, and full of junk and crap, but it’s mine, ya know?”

His eyes sadden briefly.  He does ‘know’ but hasn’t felt that way in a long time.  He shrugs his shoulders.  “Still working on making my place feel like ‘home.’  To be honest, some nights I feel more comfortable in my office, or falling asleep in one of the bean bags chairs in the library.”

She clears her throat and leans forward over her book, picking up a highlighter to mark a note.  “I remember when my mom left and got a new place.  Hate to tell ya, it’ll probably feel like that for awhile.”

“Thank you for the uplifting sentiment; mind if I just stick my head in the oven now, so I won’t die alone?”

Her shoulders rock with laughter and he watches as once again, she jiggles in a bra that just isn’t the right fit for her.  That would be a situation he would love to remedy for her.  A little lingerie shopping and modeling of styles can always lift the spirits.

“I’m talking too much.  I’m keeping you from your work… But I do have one more question, then I’ll be quiet; I promise.”

Opening another book, she places it on top of the huge volume already displayed on the table.  “Shoot.  I’m an open book.  Whatever you want to know…”

“Well fuck, now it’s two things, cuz I just thought of something else I’m curious about.”

She giggles and gets up from her chair.  Moving to the fridge, she retrieves two water bottles, handing one to him over his shoulder.  “You are the type that asks for one thing, and then always hopes for more, aren’t you?”  She teases in his ear, pushing her body against his before returning to the chair.

He chuckles.  “Yeah, probably.  Like, maybe I’m just hanging around now for the hopes of Four?”  He smiles at the shake of her head and continues.  “Ok, first question.  You’re obviously brilliant.  You’ve studied in Europe; worked on a few archeology digs, and Professor Hiddleston obviously thinks highly of you; he can’t stand the state of the American education system and is always belittling students in meetings. But he tolerates you- you must be wicked smaht,” he grimaces when his old neighborhood accent shines through.  “Honestly, I don’t see how you stand to work with him, but,” he tilts his head, smirking at the scowl on her face.  Her beloved Professor Hiddleston… He might like to give that man shit, but he’s not going to get under her skin by knocking the man she admires… “I get the language and history connection, but still he’s just such an assh-…”  Shaking his head, he stops himself.   “So what do you plan to do with all your knowledge? It’s pretty diverse.”

Chris doesn’t let her know he’s actually been looking over her school records on his phone for the last few minutes.  She’s a fuckin’ genius; and her areas of study as so eclectic.  Linguistics, history, literature…  He’s probably in the presence of one of the smartest women he’s ever met, yet she’s still so clueless about so many things.

“That is a damn good question,” she laughs, tossing her head back and slapping her thigh.  “Can’t really teach high school, can I?  I’d be bored in a week…  I don’t know,” she says thoughtfully.  “I’ve been approached by some of the top museums in the world to work as a curator and continue my archaeological work…  The problem is, I’m passionate about all of it.  If I do that, then I’m stuck in one field.  And I think I’d hate that ‘tied down’ feeling.”

Fuck.  His cock immediately perks up at her turn of phrase and the image that popped in his head.  He drops the water bottle ‘accidently’ and bends to retrieve it, hoping she doesn’t see the expression on his face.  Sitting back up, he can’t stop himself.  “Yeah, you being tied down would be awful.”

The eraser she throws bounces off the table and hits him in the cheek.  They both share in the laughter.

“You.  Just sit over there with your fantasies.  I’m working…”  The blush on her cheeks is endearing and he knows he should leave.  Soon.  “Oh damn.  You had a second thing.  What was it?”

His cheeks now turn pink and he leans forward, resting his arms on the table.  Inhaling deeply, the air is tight through his nose.  “Last night… You said it was ‘taken’ a long time ago.  You don’t mean-?”

“Oh, God no. No. Just some fumbling around in a back seat and not really knowing what the hell he was doing, or I was doing.  It was awful,” she chuckles, “But it’s the story of my life.  ‘I make rash decisions.’  And ‘I don’t know what I’m doing.’”

“I can teach you a few things,” Chris smiles, tapping his finger on the book.

The grin on her face is huge.  “I’m sure you can…  Now.  You promised to be quiet so I can work.  I hope you are a man of your word, Mister Evans.”

The two work in silence, chatting occasionally, well into the afternoon. Chris reads a bit more over her transcripts and finds notes from her research projects posted on some of the school study pages.  She’s an amazing talent and would be an asset to his team in the history department as they get ready to undergo some staff changes.  He contemplates what working with her would be like, but when images of bending her over his desk fill his head, he knows he’s had enough.

Rising from his seat, he cleans up the trash from the snack they’d had and moves to sit on the couch.  He doesn’t want to go home, and she seems in no hurry to make him leave.  Hugging a couch pillow to his chest, it smells like her.  His thoughts run back over the last few hours and he realizes his ex-wife still hasn’t called him back.  Guilt smashes him in the stomach as he realizes he’d totally forgotten his responsibilities the minute a pretty face and deadly curves turned his head…   Punching the pillow, he rolls to his side, preparing to nap when “God Save the Queen” starts to play on her phone.

She quickly answers it and he hears shuffling in the kitchen behind him.  “Hey, how are you?… Just a lazy Sunday.  A friend came over…. Yes, I have friends, you know,” she asserts playfully.

He freezes when he senses her hovering above him and he pretends to be asleep, not wanting her to think he’s listening.  Her hand graces the top of his head gently before she walks away.  When he hears her voice again, it’s muffled and coming from the bedroom.

“Sure, I can.  I’d love to!  What a nice surprise!   What time?  Ok… Anything else?  Yeah… Yes.   Alright.  I’m looking forward to it…. See you then.”

Chris realizes this is his cue to leave.  Fuck.  Thalia said ‘for reasons’ she and her other paramore, for lack of a better word, wish to keep things private.  He quickly prays she’s not dating a married man.  But it’s not his place to judge or ask.  From his spot on the couch, he realizes the apartment shows no signs of a man in her life, and he begins to question her need for privacy.  A sinking feeling sets in, and he sits up to put on his shoes.

The bathroom door closes and he waits anxiously for her to return to the living room.  When the door clicks open he turns to the dark haired beauty with a smile.  “Hey, I hate to do this Thalia, but I got a text from my ex and I can go see Avery for a few hours.  I really need to get going.”

Standing up he admires her lovely full lips as the bottom one pops out in disappointment.  “You have to go?  Well, then I guess it’s a good excuse.  Getting dumped for a younger woman already.  I see how you are.”

Moving into his space, she places her hand on his bicep, stepping closer to him.  Batting her eyelashes, she smiles crookedly.  “No, that’s great.  I’m glad you can see her.”

Her pout is irresistible.  He places his hand under her chin and with a bit of force he rubs his thumb across her tender lips.  “So beautiful…”  Holding her chin in place, he thwarts her physical effort to deny it.  “And I’m going to keep telling you that until you believe it.”  He leans his forehead to hers.  “I left my phone number on one of the post-its on the table earlier when you were deep in thought.  Text me in a bit so I make sure I have your number.”

Sliding his nose against hers, he plants his lips on hers and sucks in her air.  Minty fresh.  Pulling back, he whispers quietly.  “You brushed; not fair,” he complains.

“Sorry. Syrup breath was killing me… And you know,” she sighs, “I was gearing up for Four, but I guess we’ll have to start our count over again another night.”

“Four?”  He cocks his eyebrow pleased by her enthusiasm and stamina.  “I’ll hold you to that promise, babe.”  He remembers her secretive phone call, and moves to extract himself from her arms.

She follows him to the door and tells him she’ll text soon.

Walking down the stairs and across the street, he wonders again what the hell he’s doing.  She’s a student.  Young.  Dating someone else.  His damn Italian jealousy is already getting the best of him…

Reaching for his car keys in his pocket, his phone beeps.  He can’t contain his smile when he reads the message.  “Had a great night. Look up.”

Following directions, he shields his eyes from the sunlight peaking through the gray clouds, the smell of snow in the air.  Standing at her window she waves grandly and he laughs when she flashes him the two most resplendent breasts he’s ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Click here to read Chapter 18 Changes

Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

 

Three

1493177639697

Educating Thalia

Chapter 16

Collaboration by @avenger-nerd-mom & @devikafernando

AU FICTION

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: 3040

Warnings:  Language, Adult Situations, NSFW, cunnilingus, fingering, nipple play, intercourse, multiple orgasms

Summary: Chris takes his time to really get to know Thalia’s body, fulfilling a tantalizing promise while losing himself in her.

Click here to the intro for Educating Thalia

He advances on her quickly, flipping her back to the bed and tugging on her shorts and pulling them down her shapely full figured legs, leaving her in nothing but a piece of skimpy blue lace.  Sliding off the end of the bed, he grabs her ankle and draws her down to him, spreading her legs to rest between them.  “I’ve been wanting to bite right here,” he circles his thumb on her inner thigh, “since you sat on the couch with your foot on the table.  Niña, I don’t even think you knew what you were doing, but you had my attention.”  She whimpers and begins to writhe before he even moves between her legs, tickling her with the top of his buzzed hair.  Noticing the wet spot already on her panties, he continues his little game, biting at her thigh and marking her there also.

With his hair so short, she tugs on his ear and pulls his head back to look at him and whines for him to stop teasing. Her eyes are dark with lust and reaching down to him, she removes his glasses and tosses them gently towards her dresser.  “Just do it.  Lick me, finger fuck me, whatever, but put me out of my misery.”

God, how he wants to hear her sultry voice cry out.  “Thalia, I wanna hear you beg for me.  You have to want it.”

Lifting her ass of the bed, she pushes against him.  “I do Chris; I want it.” She huffs when he pulls back.  “I need you to make me come.”

Licking across the lace, he pushes it between her folds and she cries out, “Fuck,” seemingly shocked at her own volume as she covers her mouth with her fist.  The glorious sound echoes in his ears and he longs to hear it again as he swipes his tongue again, sucking back and gathering the wet lace between his lips.  Stretching it away from her pussy, he glides one hand up her thigh, bringing his thumb to her entrance and massaging with the rest of his hand against her pelvic bone.  She pushes towards him and he holds her still with his other hand.  “Not that easy, Thalia.  You have to want it, you have to tell me you want it.”

“Dammit, I need you to fuck me, please.”

With the lace pushed to the side, he looks at her pretty pink sex and sees the throbbing of her walls, begging for him.  Leaning in, he pushes with his thumb as his tongue teases around her tight bundle of nerves and she cries out again, thrashing against the sheets, straining to rise up as he holds her down.  “More,” she whines.

“You taste absolutely sinful,” he praises.  Her hole is tight and he adds another digit to his caresses, fingering her and pulling in and out, simulating the sex act he plans for her later.  Her walls squeeze on him and he knows she won’t last much longer, teasing her with another lash of his tongue across her clit and her whimpers sound pained. He smiles as he licks when she raises her foot to his shoulder, opening herself up more for him as he continues to dive between her legs.

Choking out the words, she says what he longs to hear.  “Chris, I’m yours, make me come, please.”

“Thatta girl, that’s what I want; go for it.”  Pushing another finger in he curls against her g-spot, letting go of his hold on her stomach so she can rise up to grind against him as she comes over his hand, soaking his beard as he laps her clean.  “Shit, shit, shit,” she cries and it reminds him of his own string of expletives at her hands, his undoing.  The little bit he can’t catch runs between her legs and soaks the comforter as he sweeps her up in his arms and cradles her in his lap, wiping his beard on the already stained tank top.  “Niña, honey, that was just One.  Still two more to go.”

Her head drops to his shoulder, her arms tight around his neck.  She whispers against his skin.  “Fuck, I’ll be dead by morning,” she giggles.  “Cause of death: Amazing hot sex.”

“Don’t die yet; I’m not done with you,” he promises.

Her body quakes in his arms and he feels she’s still on the edge.  Lowering his head,  his lips caress the tender spot against her collarbone.

“Chris?  You just picked me up?  Like it was nothing?”  She giggles, still breathy and faint, the rush of air from her lips warm against his neck.  “That might be the fucking sexiest thing a man has ever done for me,” she shares with him.

He nuzzles closer to her body.  Her round, full womanly body appeals to him in a way no other woman has in ages.  He likes her weight, her power.  It’s a fuckin’ turn on.  His free hand glides up her thigh and her legs fall apart, giving him better access.  He massages over her shaved mound. “I’ll remember that,” he chuckles, tilting his head back to look at her.  She’s lovely with her eyes blown wide from her orgasm, tendrils of curls loose from her braid, damp with the sweat of their lovemaking.  “You like me just for my strength.  Fair enough.  I like you for your thick thighs and peach-shaped ass.”

She blushes and shakes her head back in a gasp as his hand reaches his goal, her wet center. Dipping his fingers in her juices, her walls tremble and clench around him, pulling his digits in deeper.  Curling his fingers, his smooth, rhythmic penetrations reach her g-spot and her breaths catch, her body arching into him.

“I hope that’s not the only reason,” she whispers against the top of his head.

Her nipples push against his solid chest and harden as his mouth drops down, kissing the tops of her exposed globes.  Her hand slides down his chest and joins his, flicking over her aching clit.  “Come for me again, Thalia.  Don’t hold back this time,” he quietly tells her.  “When you’re ready, just let go.”

Looking down to their drenched fingers her wet glistens in the low lamp light and he longs to taste her.  He thinks what the hell…  Sliding his fingers out, she whines from the emptiness but continues to rub herself.  His arm around her back reaches further around her side to lift her ravishing breast to him, as he circles her slick fragrant sluice around the dark nipple with his other hand.  Her flesh rises in goosebumps and he takes the chocolate peak into his waiting mouth, sucking her in and clasping his lips around her raised bud. Pulling back and tugging lightly with his teeth her moan delights his ears and he whispers, “Good enough to eat,” as his hand slides back over her ample stomach to find her hole waiting for him.

Sitting in his lap, her ass rocks against his cock and he stiffens under her, waiting for his turn to truly have her.  Not much longer now.

His fingers meet hers and their punishing touches continue to pulsate within her and he feels her body tense.  Turning his hand he pushes his palm against her hand, eliciting a whine from her as her pleasure takes on a painful need to let loose.  His other hand continues to pull at her nipple, pinching and squeezing as her noises rise and she lifts off him to push against their hands.  “Oh, fuck, fuck, I’m coming again,” she pants as her hand pushes harder in circles around her clit and his fingers reach as far as he can to hit against the most sensitive spot  Her come spills over their hands and Chris continues to caress, pulling the orgasm from her as she bucks against him.

“Look at me,” he coaxes reveling in the frantic darkness found in her gleaming eyes. Hers search over his face, as though she wants to know his features and hold them close.  Her mouth falls open as she cries out and he captures her bottom lip, sucking and pulling at the supple flesh, marking her with beard burn, as her whimpers die down.  Stroking his fingers across her gently, she accepts his mouth, placing a full kiss on his lips as her orgasm wanes.

“Two,” he announces pulling his hand from her sopping cunt and picking her up effortlessly as he rises into a standing position.  His needy hands grab and claw at her ass.  Instinctively she wraps her legs around him and he bounces her up high against his chest, returning her back down on his solid cock.

Her quick intake of air shows her surprise and he holds her still, allowing her time to stretch to accommodate his hard pulsing thickness. Taking a few short steps across the room, he sits her atop the dresser and pushes into her again.  Her lips crash against his in a fevered need and she purrs, “Yes, yes, fuck me like this. Please.”

Their bodies align perfectly and the dresser is just the right height.  Pummeling into her he sets a rapid pace, tired of waiting.  He pulls at her ass and teases along the crease, her moans louder and echoing in his ears. He wonders if this beauty might like a little ass play?   She rolls with him and bounces on the wooden surface.  Her teeth sink into the tattoo on his collarbone and he hisses, heightening his senses as her manicured nails dig into his shoulder.  Moving one hand away from her sweet peachy ass, he glides roughly over her dark skin, tugging and pulling.   Lifting the weight of her exposed tit, he pulls in and out of her. Right on the edge, he knows he needs to stop, get a condom, but she feels so damn hot, so tight, he literally can’t pull himself away.

Thalia opens herself more to him by lifting her leg and resting her foot on the edge of the dark furniture piece. “Damn, that’s hot, Niña.”   Extracting himself momentarily, he watches her walls convulse, the prettiest shade of pink and purple he’s ever seen.  Chris can’t take his eyes off her slippery pulsing cunt.  “So pretty,” he whispers and from the corner of his eyes, he sees her smile grow.

Sassy.  Pleased.

Grabbing the chain around his neck, her husky voice fills his head, words that will echo in his wildest dreams for ages, “You gonna stare at it, or finish filling it?”

With her foot wrapped around his trim waist, she taps his ass with it and she pulls him close guiding him in.  With a strength she’s hidden till now, she requests commands, “Fuck me now, Chris.  I need you to finish me.”

The earthy quality to her voice, her moment of dominance brings him back to the moment.  Rocking against her again he sheaths himself deep inside, scooping her up under her ass and carrying her to the bed.  “Do that all day,” she whines.  “Super fuckin’ sexy.”

Placing her on the bed, she keeps her leg up and he pins it to his side as he pounds into her again and again, unapologetically.  His sounds of pleasure mirror hers as they rise to their peak.  Her body clenches around his cock and her volume rises, a series of expletives falling from her sweet lips.  “Three,” he grunts as he pulls out and pumps himself to finish against her writhing hip as she still undulates beneath his weight.

“Three,” she giggles breathlessly holding him in place on top of her.  “Don’t move.  I like your weight.”

Lazily her fingers drape across his back and her body slowly relaxes.  His come rolls over her hip and onto the comforter and he breathes into her neck, whispering his appreciations.

Hours later, he’s not exactly sure when they fell asleep, so soundly, wrapped up around one another.  She must have been awake at some point.  The lamp is off and he can see around the room in the hazy morning light.  The soiled comforter is hanging off the end of the bed and his glasses are on the bedside table next to her phone.  He slides out of the cozy bed and is instantly hit with a wave of cold air.  Running quickly to the bathroom first, he later tiptoes to the living room to adjust the radiator.  It makes a rumbling sound, but it isn’t too promising.  He wraps the blanket from the back of the couch around him and riffles through the kitchen cabinets, settling on a protein bar and a glass of milk.  His feet are freezing on the cold floors as he pads back into the bedroom.

He tries to slip back into the bed without waking her but she stirs, a happy crooked smile on her face.  “Morning, handsome,” she slurs, her voice full of sleep.

Add it to the list of sexiest sounds.  Thalia’s morning voice.

“This place is fuckin’ cold.  You need a heater,” he declares rolling her on top of him for warmth.

She shrieks when he places his cold feet on the back of her calves, eyes flying wide open.

“You are not nice in the morning,” she tells him, snuggling her full boobs against his rock solid chest and settling between his legs.  Her mouth blows out tiny wisps of air against his neck and he warms under her.

Comfortable and relaxed, they lay in silence for awhile.  Chris plays with her curls while she rubs her hands through the light fuzz across his chest.  Eventually she rolls to his side, snuggling next to him.  A perfect fit.

“‘Niña,’ huh?” she teases, the Spanish endearment rolling off her tongue.

He chuckles quietly, tenderly kissing the top of her head.  “It popped in my mind.  For some reason, I remembered that from my language classes. I guess I thought if I actually called you ‘baby girl’ you might hit me.”

Her body rocks with laughter and jostles the bed.  “You’re probably right.”  She laughs some more and the musical sound fills him with joy.

Cuddled in her arms, he quietly tells her, “I’d like to see you again some time, Thalia.  Maybe we could get dinner later this week?   I’m a professor, and you’re a student; we’d have to keep things quiet…”

Her cheeks flush pink and he can see her hesitation, and a moment of… What? Fear? Disbelief? – pass across her face. She chews at her bottom lip, swollen and bruised from hours of use.  It’s like she’s warring with herself…  yet he sees the instant she makes her decision.

“I’ve just had some of the best sex of my life and I would like to see you again,” she admits, her face a deep shade of red at her confession.  “But,”  Thalia sighs, “I’m seeing someone else… We have a bit of an open relationship, and for reasons, we also like to keep things quiet.  If you’re okay with knowing that I’m not always available because of school, work and well,” she sighs, “him, then yes, I’d really like to see you again sometime.”

Chris’s stomach drops, and he says the first thing that comes to his mind, believing honesty is probably the best for her, especially since she was just now truthful with him.  “To be honest, Thalia, I wasn’t expecting that you were seeing someone else.  I’m gonna have to think on it…”

“It’s fine; I understand,” she rolls over to the edge of the bed and sits up, looking around the mess of the room in a daze.

He doesn’t want her to go; doesn’t want his time with her to end.  “You said you had a lot of studying today?  I really didn’t mean to take all your morning time away-”

“Chris. Stop.  You didn’t take anything away from me.  I’m glad you’re still here.” She sighs frustratedly as she pulls the sheet around her, seemingly embarrassed in the morning light.  Standing beside the bed, her wild hair creates a halo in the gray sunshine creeping in the blinds.  She smiles down at him, reaching to caress his beard.  “I would have really hated you; hated myself if you’d left.”  She repeats quietly, “I’m glad you’re still here.”

Picking up his glasses, she hands them to him.  Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he puts them on, laughing.  “You’re beautiful.  You look well fucked over.”  He delights in knowing he caused her undoing.

Looking in the mirror, she tucks the sheet around her, pushing her wayward curls back.  She hides a small smile behind her hand as she thoughtfully runs her lips over the knuckles on her hand.  As if she’s searching for what he sees and she can’t find it, she shakes her head and turns away.  Chris jumps up and is next to her side before she can move.  Fully naked, he stands behind her, caressing her hair over her shoulder and pulling out what remains of the braid.  “Thalia,  I want to taste more of you.  You’re a curvy, delicious woman.  Any man would be a fool not to see that.”  Bringing his hands to her waist, he digs into her fleshy sides, brushing his cock against her ass.  “Right here?  This is perfect for grabbing you tight.  I picture myself holding you here, and sliding you on and off my cock from behind and-”

“Behind?” she giggles, turning to look at him over her exposed shoulder.  “No, sir.  You stay away from there.”

Chuckling, he pushes against her more firmly.  “Oh, really? Sweetheart, you don’t know what you’re missing.  You realize now you’ve challenged me to-”

Reaching over her shoulder, she places her hand against his scruff.  “You realize now you’re talking like a man who wants to stay; wants to see me again?”

His stomach tightens.  She’s right.  She’s too perfect, too beautiful, too damn smart to walk away from…  Whoever his competition is, he’ll make sure he wins.

Turning his face to kiss her palm, he sighs in defeat.  “Yes, you’re right…  I can’t walk away from you.  I need to know you, Thalia, all of you.”

Click here to Chapter 17 Morning After

Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

Stay

ET ch 15 Stay april 23, 2017

Educating Thalia

Chapter 15

Collaboration by @avenger-nerd-mom & @devikafernando

AU FICTION

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.

his chain

“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

Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

Closing Time

et ch 14 closing time april 19 2017

Educating Thalia

Chapter 14

Collaboration by  @avenger-nerd-mom & @devikafernando

AU FICTION

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: 3400

Warnings:  Language, Adult Situations, fluff, drinking, discussion of homelessness, thoughts of sexual situations

Summary:  Professor Evans seeks solace in a bottle and finds himself in the bar where grad-student Thalia Bareo is finishing her night shift….

Click here to the introduction of Educating Thalia

“Ah, shit,” she mumbles, wiping the counter down. Her grumble catches his attention and he looks up, a smile of recognition dawning across his face. A brief image of the lovely woman before him in a short Tartan plaid skirt quickly romps through his memory.  With a slight nod, he runs his fingers across the top of his glass indicating another, and she motions to the other man behind the bar that she’s got this.

“What’s your poison, professor?” The plump latina asks, her accent thick and sultry.

He indicates the tap and looks on as her hand subtly strokes the metal handle before she pulls it down, watching the foamy brew flow into the chilled glass, stopping just before it spills over.

She sets it down with a clink in front of him. “I work all the way out here so I don’t have to put up with the college crowd; what’s your excuse for being at this dive?”

He ponders his response, taking a long sip of the dark hops as it cools down his throat. Even in the dark bar he can see her eyes darken for a moment while she watches the muscles in his neck as he gulps the beverage down. He continues drinking, his eyes on her as a blush rises on her cheeks and her nipples begin to strain against her shirt. She turns away from him, grabbing a bowl of mixed nuts to place in front of him, the heat diminished in her eyes.

He runs his thumb across his bottom lip, gathering the wasted drops off beer and flicks his tongue across the pad of his finger before replying. “I needed to get away from the college crowd too,” he tells her honestly.  “Sometimes it’s just too much bullshit, ya know?”

She wipes her hands on her apron, “Man, I hear that.  So what is it this time? Johanas and Smythes fighting over offices again, or the library collection refuses to update the check out system for references?”  she teases.

He chuckles and takes a handful of nuts, palming them and pushing them into his mouth.  “All of the above, and shitty freshmen that can’t write a goddamn sentence to save their lives.”

She laughs and rolls her eyes.  “I hear that too. Working as a TA in the language department; I can’t believe what they let in these ivy league doors these days, it’s a disgrace.”  Winking, her long lashes close and rest against her freckled cheek while she shares her tease with him.  “Kids wasting Daddy’s money, while I gotta work my ass off to get anywhere.”

She turns in a fluid movement to grab a bottle filled with an incandescent blue liquid, and his mind freezes on her use of the word ‘daddy’ and ‘ass’ in the same sentence.  From where he sits high on the bar stool, he can admire her rounded backside, in tight jeans with silver stitching on the pockets.  Reaching up to grab a bottle on a higher shelf, her shirt rises just enough to see a hint of her beautifully tanned skin.  Turning back to the main bar, she blushes lightly and self-consciously pulls her shirt back down.  He’s fascinated by watching her work as she mixes up a drink and shoots it smoothly down the wooden countertop and the other bartender catches it.  

“Thalia, right?”  Chris asks.  He knows she works for Hiddleston, but he vaguely remembers her from one of his study groups a year or two ago.  How could he forget such a beautiful name for such an alluring woman?  “You were in one of my classes, right?”

She nods.  “Your Women’s History class?  I gave my speech on roles of women in the World War II era while dressed in a USO showgirl outfit?”

Hell yeah.  She’d given the speech from memory, save for one notecard she pulled out of her cleavage halfway through the presentation.  He’d had such a hard-on the rest of the hour, he had to give her an A just because he couldn’t focus on a damn word she’d said.

“Do you commonly give costumed speeches?”  He asks, seeing her differently in the dark bar than he has before as she walks across campus, arms full of books.

Accepting a tip from a leaving customer she smiles brightly.  “Nah, I was young and foolish then, and besides, I’d worked really hard to make that outfit for a costume party.  I thought I might as well get more good out of it,” she laughs.

He smiles.  “Not so foolish now?”

“Grad student.  Bills to pay.  No time for fun.  Between school and workin-”

“Hey!” A voice at the end of the bar barks, “I don’t pay ya to flirt, I pay ya to mix drinks and clean tables.  Get to it!”

She drops her eyes.  “Sorry. Um, I wasn’t really… “  Shaking her head, she clears her throat.  “It was nice talking to you Professor Evans; I owe, I owe, it’s back to work I go.”  Humming quietly, she walks away, stopping at the end of the counter to pick up a big gray bucket to use to clean the tables.

He downs two more drinks during her absence, playing on his phone and returning emails.  Rolling his shoulders, he stretches his neck from side to side, watching her reflection in the aged mirror in front of him, rather than turning to admire her full figure.   Her dark curly hair cascades down her back, skimming just the top of the waist of her jeans.  Her tight v-neck tshirt supports a logo for the school team and hugs her tits just right.  From the fit, he can tell her bra is just a little too tight, and with each step she has an extra jiggle that makes him hard now.  He begins to fantasize about groping her voluptuous breasts from behind as he pounds against her ass.  Maybe she would even call him ‘daddy.’  

He shakes his head to clear the image.  Removing his glasses, he places them on the counter, rubbing his stubble gruffly.  Fuck.  She’s a student.  Even a damn good lay wouldn’t be worth risking his job.  And she would be good…  He can just sense it about her and that makes his cock twitch in his pants, and at the moment, he rather wishes he hadn’t gone commando after his shower at the gym.

He catches the eye of the other bartender and as if the guy could read his thoughts, Chris drops his head and hides his face in the crook of his elbow, staring into the amber liquid in his glass.

She chats with the other patrons and is obviously friendly with a few of the regulars.  When one guy tries to get a little handsy with her, she’s already twisted the man’s arm behind his back before he can jump to her rescue.  She gives the man a push and sends him on his way.  Chris watches as he scurries out the door.

Returning to her position at the bar, her face brightens when she realizes he’s still there.  “It’s late; don’t you need to be getting home?” she asks kindly, adding payments to the cash register and making a few notes.

“To be honest, I had a shit day and don’t wanna be alone,” he scoffs, slightly drunk and words slurred..  “When do you get off… work?” he adds with a wry smile, swishing around what’s left in the bottom of his glass.  “Sit with me and have some coffee while I dry out before I drive home?”

He sees her discreetly looking to his hands, possibly admiring their thickness or looking for signs of attachment, so he stretches his fingers to show there’s no wedding ring.   She leans into the counter, and pulls the glass from his hands, sitting it on the lower counter in front of her.  She rests her elbows on the bar in such a way to push her boobs together to showcase their beauty and whispers, “I got a better plan.  My apartment is just across the street.”  She twists her head to look at the neon clock on the wall behind her, exposing her graceful neck to him, to look at the time. “How ‘bout some early morning pancakes and some hot coffee before I have to hit the books.  Some of us actually prepare before we attend our classes,” she teases.

Chris can’t believe his luck.  It’s like an open invitation, but he sees a vulnerability in her too.  Her offer is gracious and full of concern over his slightly drunken state.  “That’s really nice, but we don’t have to,” he tries to deny his wish to say yes.  “The diner on the corner is open.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, “And it’s shit.  Besides, I really hate going anywhere after work and smelling like an ashtray.  I was gonna fix coffee anyway, so it’s no big deal.”  The beauty shrugs her shoulders, indicating it really is no trouble.

How can he resist?  “Sounds good.”  He pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and counts out a few bills to cover his tab.  She takes the money and raises her eyebrow at the tip.  Handing it back to him, he puts his hands up to stop her.

“Ok, fine,” she huffs.  He watches her move over to the end of the bar to open the register and address the other bartender.  “It’s slowing down and the tables are clear.  I’m outta here.”  Counting out her tips for the night, she doesn’t see the scowl on the older man’s face, but Chris catches it as the man turns to glare at him.

He strains to listen to their exchange over the din of the bar.  He can’t hear most of it, so he puts his glasses back on; he’s perfected the art of lip reading over the years.  Something to do on a slow day during boring staff meetings.  He catches the man’s concern for his female counterpart. “What? You’re leaving here with pretty boy?  Thalia, what are you doing?”

‘Pretty boy?’  Chris observes her looking around the bar, sweeping her arms wide.  Her voice is higher pitched and easier to hear.  “You’d rather I leave with one of the other patrons?  At least if pretty boy has tats, they’re spelled right.  But, Jim, don’t worry, my heart still belongs to you.”   She pats his big belly and rises on her toes to kiss his cheek.  Chris smiles at the scene.

Untying the apron, she tosses it under the bar.  He swears her voice is a bit louder, for his benefit as she continues. “Don’t worry about me.  You’ve seen me kick ass around here, you know if he tries something and I’m not interested, I can totally handle myself.”

Their voices drop but Chris continues to read their lips.  “You’re interested,” Jim nods towards him.

Thalia turns her brilliant smile to him and he watches her puff out her chest slightly and pull her shoulders back.   He returns the look and stands up from his seat, pulling his coat from the empty stool next to him.

She shakes her hair out, a thoughtful expression on her face.  “Maybe; I don’t know,” she says to the other bartender.  She grabs her coat from the hook and walks around the bar, titling her head to the exit and Chris follows her out, his hand on her lower back.

Outside in the cold, she pulls her collar up to protect her ears and loops her arm in his before stuffing her hands in her pockets.  “It’s just across the street; that doorway,” she gestures with her head as she leads him across the street.  Fumbling with her keys in the cold, she asks him to step around behind her for a minute.  “Hang on just a second; can you hold it open?”

“Sure?” he asks as she steps around the corner of the building and yells something down the alley and he hears a scuffle.  He’s surprised when she returns to see another woman with her.  “Tina, this is my friend, Chris.  He’ll be here tonight too, okay?”

Tina steps inside the warm entrance and mumbles something.  Thalia pulls a wrapped sandwich and apple from her pocket and hands it to the woman.  “Sleep well, Tina,” she says as the woman shuffles down the hall and disappears under the stairway.  

Thalia nods her head up the stairs and starts climbing.  Chris steps up beside her and quietly asks, “What was that about?”

Thalia grins and presses her lips closed tightly for a moment.  “She has no place to stay.  She’s harmless so a few of us let her in the building on cold nights and she sleeps under the stairs.”  Stopping at the third landing, she halts in front of the door on the right and unlocks it.  “I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve offered her my couch.”  She shakes her head, her hair falling around her shoulders.  “But she always says no.  About once a week I am able to convince her to come up for a shower and we have hot tea.”

Chris is blown away by her generosity.  “You have a habit of taking in strays?  Me?  Tina?  What do you two talk about?”

The door open, she motions for him to enter and reaches around and flicks the light switch.  He’s struck by the chill in the air, but the light casts a warm glow around the small space.  She places the keys on a side table and rubs her hands together for warmth.  “Wanna sit at the table? You might wanna keep your coat on.  It’ll take a while for the place to warm up.”  She moves to the radiator and clangs on it a few times with a metal wrench and Chris immediately remembers his days as a poor grad student too.  He bites back his laughter at the expression on her face, when she bangs it again and curses in Spanish before it rattles to life.

Crossing to the kitchen, she lays her gloves on the counter, and fills a kettle with water before adding it to the machine and settling it in its spot.  “She tells me about her life before she lost it all; her husband and son were killed in a car accident, and she just gave up after that.”    She reaches to her left and pulls out a coffee filter and grounds, measuring and adding it as well.  She pushes the orange button and the coffee maker makes a quiet hiss as it begins to do its job.

He watches as she moves about the kitchen and instantly feels at home in her space.  Funny.  That’s a feeling he hasn’t had in months.  He looks around as she talks a little more about Tina and straightens the counters, maybe a little embarrassed a guest is seeing it in a messed up state.  She halts when she realizes he’s watching and giggles.  “Sorry.  Habit.  I’m not used to having guests, and it’s a mess.”  She hands him a tin of cookies from above the stove and places two mugs on the table.  “So, listen.  Can you finish up the coffee?  If I have to smell like that bar for five more minutes, I might scream.”  She pulls a strand of hair to her nose and inhales.  She drops it in disgust and makes a stink face.  “It’s just awful; in my hair, on my clothes; on my skin.  I hate it.  And my hands?  I think they always smell like beer.”

She’s standing just close enough that he reaches to grab one of her hands and brings it to his face, brushing his nose against her palm.  Breathing deeply, the smell is strong, but she’s just left work.  “Occupational hazard?” he teases as he gently caresses the back of her hand with his thumb, enjoying the soft feel of her skin, afraid to lift his eyes to hers.

Clearing her throat, Thalia pulls her hand away slowly but the catch in her breath is audible and seems to echo in the silence between them.  Quietly she tells him, “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to shower.  I won’t be long.  Make yourself at home.”

She rushes from the room quickly and enters through a closed door.  A few moments later, she comes out and rounds the corner and passes into another room with an armload of clothes. He hears the turn of the lock.  As he makes his coffee, he tries not to imagine her naked and wet in the shower, but the thought jumps into his mind anyway. Adding sugar, he visualizes the rivulets of water running across her hills and valleys as she soaps away a long night at work. If he were there with her, he’d follow the wetness all over her curves, with his fingers and his tongue. He’d… Shit, he probably shouldn’t be thinking this.

Chuckling at the sound of her humming, he tries to identify the song he’s heard on the radio as he reaches to the fridge for creamer.  On the door, he sees a recent application for paperwork to travel overseas and sees her birthdate, during the week of finals  She just turned twenty-five.  Pushing his glasses up, he rubs his forehead.  Twenty-five.  Fuck.  Is that too young?  She’s a grad student.  He shrugs his shoulders.  Not a student in his department.  What’s the harm there?

Sipping his coffee, he walks around the tiny space.  On the bookshelf are photos of friends and family…  A notice from a funeral she attended a few months back.  Books are piled everywhere.  Lots of little trinkets from tourist destinations across Europe.

The radiator is slowly warming the room, with a slight chill still hanging in the air.  He removes his coat and hangs it over the back of the chair before sitting on the couch and pulling the soft blue blanket around him.  The furniture is nice and newer, not typical college student decor.  He sinks back against the sueded fabric and settles in as the water shuts off.  Again, trying to shut out any thoughts of her naked behind the closed door, he pulls out his phone and checks for any updated messages.  Seeing none, he scowls at the screen, jumping a bit when the door creaks open.  

“Hey,” she says quietly as a waft of orchids from her bath soaps float from the room.  Her long curly hair is wrapped in a towel perched precariously on her head.

Damn, that’s really sexy, he thinks.  How do girls do that?  He smiles at her, in a pink polka dotted robe, tied loosely over a tank top and plaid pajama shorts.  When she walks to the kitchen, the robe splits open and he catches sight of the way her thighs sensually rub against one another as she moves. “Hey,” he responds.  “I didn’t know how you take your coffee so I just uh, didn’t fix it.”

She giggles.  “Strong and bold, with a little sugar.  Like my men,” she laughs and the sound is so joyous, he joins in the mirth.  Moving elegantly she seems comfortable in her skin.  Chris likes that about her right away.  She doesn’t seem phased by his presence or uncomfortable to be in her pjs in front of someone she barely knows.  As she fixes her coffee, he asks her a few more questions about Tina, her work at the bar and the memorabilia from her obvious travels.

“Ya know, Thalia, I always got the impression you didn’t like me,” he boldly states.

She settles at the end of the couch and tugs the robe around her middle.  He can see her carefully considering her words.  “You’re the type of man girls like me are taught to stay away from.”

A slow grin crosses his face, “Oh really?  And what type is that?”

“Handsome and self-assured?  But, I don’t know?  Tonight you seemed-  a little broken.  Like you needed someone just to be nice to you.  I can do that.  I can be nice.”

He wonders how nice she could be; how nice it would be to run his fingers through her hair; how nice to slide between her legs; how nice-

He clears his throat and takes another sip of his coffee.

Click here to Chapter 15 Stay

Story updates are posted on Wednesdays and Sundays.

Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

 


Alone

ET ch 13 Alone April 16 2017

Chapter 13

Educating Thalia

Collaboration by @devikafernando & @avenger-nerd-mom

AU FICTION

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.

Warnings:  Language, Adult Situations, fluff, angst, thoughts of sexual situations

Summary: Thalia reflects on her life in general and on her relationship with Tom.

Word Count 1528

Click here to read the introduction to Educating Thalia

With a sigh, Thalia dumps her bag and keys, plopping down on the couch to pull of her boots.  To ward off the cold as she waits for the radiator to warm up, she stays wrapped in her scarf and coat, feeling oddly listless.

The best thing now would be to just fall into bed- and forget the fight with Tom she just had. But she’s much too annoyed to fall asleep right now. She’s glad to know her class in the morning is cancelled, and she can laze about a few extra hours. Finally warm enough, she peels off her outer layer of clothes and reaches for the slippers under the coffee table.

With another sigh, she pads into the kitchen and grabs the ingredients for a nice, ego-boosting, nerve-soothing cup of hot chocolate. Although a shot of whiskey doesn’t sound bad either.  She looks briefly to the window, and thinks about crossing the street to the bar where she works, but she’d probably get sucked into helping close for the night.  Chica, you are too tired for that shit.  Three nights in a row is enough and she looks forward to being off from the bar for a few days. Instead of booze as a soother, while the water boils, she rummages for home-made cookies she always keeps in an emergency stash in a tin above the stove.

Tom.  She can’t kick him from her mind…  It’s barely been two weeks since she’s returned from her Christmas break, but things have changed somehow.  She’s confused by how there can be a closeness and a distance at the same time…  It’s like he wants to pull her close, then gets scared of his own feelings, and pushes her away.  It’s become dizzying.

Although she’ll forever remember and treasure the amazing time she spent with Tom during his surprise visit, their days apart during the holidays made her see one thing clearer: She shouldn’t tie herself to him too much.

They’re becoming too dependent on each other; she’ll be looking for work abroad, and this isn’t the permanent home for either of them.  Their time at the college as professor and student is just a stop along the way to the rest their lives…

Yes, he’s all she can think about sometimes, and he’s awakened a hunger for more inside that scares the shit out of her – but does that mean he should wield such control over all of her life?

She’s a little tired of re-adjusting her schedule and missing out on other things because she’s at his beck and call. Whenever he is free, she ditches anything that isn’t work or school to spend a few forbidden hours with him.

Thalia munches grumpily on two cookies, the usually mouth-watering taste of her step-mother’s family recipe barely registering on her taste buds.

God, she loves spending time with Tom. And that’s part of the problem. She’s grown so attached to him, so dependent on him and how he makes her feel valued and appreciated…

What the hell happened to being her own girl?

It doesn’t help that Tom has steadily been growing more attached too. He cares for her, she feels it in her bones, even though he hasn’t put it into words.  It’s a blessing and a curse rolled into one, and sometimes he’s like a petulant child if he doesn’t get his way.

While going through the motions of making her hot chocolate,Thalia recounts a fight they had about a week ago.  She was in a bad mood before meeting him, weighed down by the challenges of the new semester and drained by all those extra hours at the bar now that one of the other bartenders quit. When she snapped at Tom for a teasing comment, he gave her an impromptu spanking in his office.  What started as playful fun, with her admitting she was being a bad girl ended up with him taking her from behind and leaving a rather prominent love bite on her neck. Afterwards, he cuddled her close and asked her what was wrong…and somehow off they were on their first ever real fight- over something completely ridiculous.

Tom was none too happy with her decision to work late hours. When she reminded him icily that she didn’t have the privilege of money, he offered to help her out.

Shaking her head at the memory, Thalia takes a sip of the hot, bittersweet liquid and waits for its effect to kick in.

She knows he mentioned helping her financially because he wants to have more time with her and because he genuinely cares for her, but to her that was a big no- a red flag. With a scowl, she remembers stomping around his office and gathering her clothes while hissing at him that he sure as hell wasn’t her sugar daddy and she was the last person who wanted his money.

He flinched and looked so wounded that she wanted to take the words back. But though they were harsh, they were the truth. No way would she let him help. It was bad enough that he paid for all those hotels and meals and little treats off and on. She didn’t want to turn into a kept woman, dammit, like some medieval mistress.  And she told him so before storming out of his office.

Slowly, trying her best to savor the flavor, Thalia sips the rest of her beverage.

In the days that followed, he did not bring up the topic again and he was careful to create opportunities for them to spend time together that didn’t involve large expenses.  She smiles at the memory of him ‘accidentally’ finding her studying in the Commons and the ice cream he shared with her.  And the whispered naughty things he would do to her if they were alone…

But the truce was short lived. They fought again tonight at dinner.  She hadn’t been able to see Tom for three days due to work and classes and today she nearly fell asleep while waiting for dinner.  His deep, crisp voice lulling her in safety and she wanted nothing more to fall into his arms and sleep for days. When she asked him for a raincheck on the date, things only got worse. Before she could even suggest he go with her to her place for the night, he switched from disappointment to cool anger. He accused her of being needlessly stubborn.

“I told you that you should let me help. Why are you so intent on making things complicated?” he asked, blue eyes flashing, a muscle ticking in his clenched jaw.

Something snapped inside her then, exhaustion taking its toll on her. “I’m being stubborn?!  Ya know, Tom, I don’t have strength for this bullshit right now.  How about learning how to deal with a little rejection instead of making matters worse?” she threw at him and left, ignoring his pleading voice calling her name as she paraded down the snowy sidewalk to her car.

As tired as her body is from being overworked, it also burns with a constant longing for Tom’s affection and attention.

And God, he could be attentive to the point of killing her, in the best ways possible.

Her cheeks heat, and it has nothing to do with the chocolate. She writhes with the sizzling memory of him pleasuring her with his mouth and a tiny but powerful vibrator last week. He didn’t let up until she thought she’d burst out of her skin, coaxing so many orgasms out of her that she was a boneless mess in his arms by the time he rubbed himself between her full breasts and came all over them.

Thalia tightens the grip on her cup, arousal slipping through the annoyance and making her press her thighs together.

Almost defiantly, she downs the rest of the liquid and rinses the cup in the sink.

Dammit, she doesn’t want him to have such a hold on her, and he simply doesn’t understand what’s so bad about, how did he phrase it, ‘helping the woman who means so much to me until she’s pulled through.’

Her phone dings, announcing a message. Knowing instinctively that it must be Tom, she keeps herself from looking at it. Instead, she walks into the bathroom and indulges in a hot shower, trying to wash off all her conflicting emotions.

When she’s finally in bed twenty minutes later, she picks up her phone and checks.

She can’t help the eye roll and reluctant smile when she reads the Shakespeare quote. It’s just so Tom.

‘A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool.’ I’m sorry for being such an insufferable fool this evening, darling. Forgive me? I just want what’s best for you…for this beautiful thing we share.

The umpteenth sigh for today wrenches itself lose.

Forgiven, she types, I’m off work tomorrow.  Let me buy dinner and we can talk things over?  Not even waiting for a reply, knowing he’ll say yes, she lies back and tries to catch the sleep she so desperately needs.

Click here for the next chapter, Closing Time

Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

Tutoring

ET ch 12 tutoring April 14 2017.jpg

Educating Thalia: Chapter 12

Collaboration by @devikafernando & @avenger-nerd-mom

AU FICTION

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.

Warnings:  Language, Adult Situations, NSFW, Dom, Sub, safe words, binding, blindfolds, aftercare, delayed orgasms, cunnilingus, blow job, spanking, condom use, silk tie play, trust, lessons from Tom on making tea

Summary:  Tom and Thalia grow closer while spending the night together in Chicago, putting his Christmas present to good use and learning to make a proper British cup of tea.

SPECIAL NOTE: Due to Good Friday in the States and the New Year celebration in Sri Lanka, there will be THREE story postings this coming week.  Look for chapters to be posted on Wednesday, April 12; FRIDAY, April 14 and Sunday, April 16.  If you want to make sure you are always up to date with Tom, Thalia and Chris, just follow avenger-nerd-mom on WordPress and stories are sent directly to you!

Images used for this chapter were found on Pinterest

Word Count 5996

Click here for the intro to Educating Thalia

Tom inserts the key card and enters the room, with Thalia close on his heels and still holding his free hand.

He’s opted for a cozy double room this time, not a lavish suite, but he made sure before booking that the bathroom has a generous tub if his girl should want a repeat performance of their first night together.

Pulling Thalia to him, he nuzzles her hair.  “I’m glad, darling, we were able to spend the day together.  I enjoyed seeing your city through your eyes.  So many places to visit; it’s no wonder you grew up with a love for theater, history and culture.”

Thalia pushes back against him, taking his hand.  “Come here, you have to see something.”

Tom drops his bag and follows her to the window.  Pulling back the curtains, the beautiful city lights up in front of them as snow begins to fall and a lighted ship can be seen on the lake, bobbing along on the waves.  His arms wrap around her waist and she rests hers on his, running her fingertips along his leather watch band.  His pulse quickens at her light touch and he wonders if she has any idea how she makes him feel.

“I’ve never really seen the city from up high at night; it’s so beautiful,” she whispers, leaning forward to get a better view.

With her forehead pressed against the glass, he releases one hand from her grasp and sweeps her long hair over her shoulder.  “Not as beautiful as you,” he whispers in her ear, continuing to tug at her hair.

He can see the smile in her reflection on the cool glass.  Pursing her lips together, she quietly says, “It’s a lost cause.  The Chicago wind; my hair will be in knots for days.  I like…” she sighs, turning in his arms.  Playing with the buttons on his shirt collar, she looks up at him through her dark lashes.  “I like leaving it down for you to play with…”

His heart flips at her innocent admission.  Before he can speak, she makes another confession.  “You also look really good in plaid,” she giggles.  “It’s damn near pornographic.”

“Oh, really,” he taunts, a chill running through him as her fingertips light over his collarbone, dipping beneath his shirt collar.  Barely a whisper between them, he tells her, “I’ll have to remember that.”

“Entirely too sinful… I wouldn’t be able to concentrate in class-”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that.” His hand reaches behind her and gives a light squeeze on her ass.

They both laugh warmly at the ruined lesson the day she wore the plaid skirt to lecture, and the few times since they’d worn or said things in a veiled attempt to tease the other out in the open.

Standing in front of the window, he begins to sway with her gently in his arms as they look out over the city.  He tries to formulate the words that tickle at the back of his mind.  He opens his mouth several times, but closes it quietly, not knowing what to say and not wanting to say too much.

She giggles, gently shaking in his hold.  “Tom, just spit it out.  I can see your reflection in the glass and you look like a funny fish!”  She mimics him in the window and he has a good laugh with her.

Shaking his head, he begins, looking down on her glowing face, cheeks still slightly pink from the wind..  “Thalia, I didn’t come all this way to visit you out of sexual frustration.  I want you to know I truly missed you.  I’ll admit, dammit, I was miserable without you.  My favorite hiding places- my office, the library- they held no spark for me knowing you wouldn’t pop around the corner.  Do you understand, darling?”

Her eyes soften and a new expression fills them, something he’s not seen there before.  She licks her lips and he can see her pulse quicken.  A light blush crosses her face, darkening her freckles.  “I understand, Tom.  I… I felt the same.  I’ve missed you; the feel of your arms, the poetic lilt of your voice.  You calling me this morning?  That was the best Christmas present I’ve ever received.  I can’t repay that to you, but-”

“Darling, it’s not a give and take like that.  Just having you here with me now is enough.”  His hand slides up her curvy figure and his palm rests against her rapidly beating heart, his fingertips brushing gently along the gold necklace chain she wears.

In her low raspy tone she tells him quietly, “I guess I could confess something else to you, as a thank you for flying all the way out here to see me?”

“What’s that, Thalia?”  His own pulse echoes in his ears and he wonders what she has to share with him.  “You can always tell me anything.”

Her mouth  turns up into to a cocky grin and she bites at the corner of her lip.  “You once asked me if I pleasure myself while thinking of you?  Well, I’ve been missing you a lot, late at night-”

“Oh, fuck, Thalia,” he chuckles darkly, “then let’s get on with it, shall we?”

She throws her head back in laughter and the tension has a more playful feeling now, but Tom still intends to give her a lesson.  She has no idea what she does to him…

“I hope you aren’t suffering from an overdose of too many sinful experiences late at night and alone, are you darling?”

She snakes her arms around his waist and buries deeper into his embrace, shaking her head. Her words come out muffled against his chest.

“Not at all. As long as I share all the experiences with you.”

“Excellent.”

As much as he enjoys a simple hug as this, Tom draws back, flicking her chin up with his long fingers.

“Good, because I have another new experience waiting for you.”

She looks up at him, and something about the expression of utter trust in her face makes him feel ten feet tall. He steals a quick kiss before saying in a low voice full of sinful promises, “I’ve been dying to try out my Christmas present, you know?”

He sees her eyes widen, then darken when she remembers- their last night together before she left on break and the silk tie and their talk about alternative uses for it.

“Yes,” she says, her voice already breathy, and he can’t wait to see how far she will let him go today.

The air between them becomes charged with sexual energy and anticipation.

Cupping her face in one large hand, he holds her gaze intently.  “A few things first before we start playing. While we’re doing this, I’m in control. You do what I say. You don’t ask any questions, unless you need clarification of what you’re supposed to do. If you address me, you’ll call me sir. Understood?”

Her tongue sneaks out to wet her lips. She nods, then remembers earlier instructions and adds a breathy, yet somewhat confident, “yes”.

He can feel her pulse throb against his fingers and he knows his heart is racing just the same. God, how has he deserved a woman like this? She’s a true gift, and he intends to treasure her for as long as she lets him.

“I’m not going to do anything you don’t like, so please don’t be scared, darling. I’m giving you the safe word ‘chocolate’. If you want me to stop something I’m doing or you ever feel uncomfortable at any point, you say the word clearly once, and I’ll take that as a signal to stop immediately.”

Thalia shivers, and he caresses her gently, trying to ease her nerves.  “Do we really need a safe word, Tom?”

Fear in her dark eyes, he worries he’s frightened her.

“I promise, I won’t hurt you or be too rough, nothing I don’t think you’ll enjoy.  It’s just a precaution…” His voice is tender and soft, to alleviate her concerns, but switches back to a controlling sound to finish his thought.  “What’s your safe word, darling?”

She sighs, working her lip over and he can feel her fingers nervously fidgeting with a fold on the back of his shirt where her hands rest around his waist.  “Chocolate.”

“Exactly. It’s your right to use it whenever things become too much. But I just want to tell you that you shouldn’t use it too liberally. This is all about new experiences. I want to educate you and guide you. So even if something might strike you as strange or daring, give it a chance first and see because you might enjoy it. Okay?”

She pulls herself tall in his arms, creating a confidence, making up her mind to turn herself over to another lesson at his hands.

“Yes, sir.”

Jesus, they haven’t even started yet and she’s got him hard.  She’s so stunning in the dark light, with the city glowing behind her, and he’s proud of her resolve.

“We won’t try anything too forward today,” he adds because he wants her to enjoy this and not panic.  And as he’s told her, he isn’t into the hardcore stuff anyway.  To prove he wants this to be fun, he nips playfully at her neck, eliciting a light squeak from the back of her throat.

“Yes, sir, I trust you.”  She nods, her curls bouncing and her pulse leaping.

“Good girl. Let your man show you how much fun a bit of playing can be.”

He lets her face go and grabs hold of her hand to pull her towards the bed.

“Strip for me, love.”

A little less shyly than the first time, Thalia removes her clothes one by one, holding eye contact.

Tom licks his lips and takes deep breaths. He doesn’t move from his spot until she has stepped out of her white panties, the innocence of them contrasting tantalizingly with her actions.

He steps out of his shoes, impatience raising its head inside him.

“Now be a darling and help me out of my clothes.”

She comes forward eagerly and removes his jacket before unbuttoning his plaid shirt. When her fingers brush lingeringly over his pecs, he grabs her wrist.

“No touching. Not yet. Just remove my clothes.”

“Yes, sir.”

She undoes the rest of the buttons and slides the shirt off, followed by the navy T-shirt he’s wearing beneath it. Tom shifts obediently this way and that, pleased that she’s sticking to the rules so far. His pants are next, and her fingers shake slightly while she opens the belt.

Slowly, she pushes the button through its hole, then lowers the zipper over the beginning bulge. Her hands falter and her eyes shoot up when she discovers that he’s been going commando.

Thalia opens her mouth to say something, but a warning lift of his eyebrow reminds her that she’s supposed to be silent. Tom watches with a smirk how she eyes his hardening cock with longing but keeps her hands to herself. He can tell whatever she wants to say is just killing her and he’ll have to ask later.

She lowers his pants all the way down to his feet, squatting in the process. Tom steps out of them and removes his socks, then pulls her up with him.

“The tie is under the left pillow. Be a good girl and bring it to me.”

His voice has automatically taken on a deeper timbre, a low growl full of authority.

He enjoys the view of her round ass when she walks to the bed, bends and retrieves the tie. The shiny silk with its mesmerizing color pattern of blue, purple and pink gleams in the light. Thalia is holding it in both hands, carefully carrying it like a breakable glass on a tray.

Tom takes it, gliding his fingers over it in a caress that has her suck in a breath. He plays with the length of it, watching her eyes follow the movement as if hypnotized by the sight.

“One day,” he says softly, “I’ll have you tie it for me before a party or retie it during the event, your fingers tugging and stroking it. And we’ll both remember what purpose it served before I wore it.”

He leans in for a kiss, snaking his tongue past her lips and feeling a little of the tension leave her body.

“Do you trust me?”

Her answer is immediate. “Yes…sir.”

“Perfect. Turn around and close your eyes.”

She does as told, swallowing hard. When he lifts the tie to her forehead and places it over her eyes instead of looping it around her wrists, she starts.

“But I thought…”

“Be quiet, pet.” He makes his voice stern, enjoying her surprise. As a warning for her to be obedient, he presses an open-mouthed kiss to the nape of her neck and sinks his teeth into her skin, hard enough to send a jolt of pain through her and mark her.

Then he returns to tying the blindfold, making sure with a few tugs that the knots are neither too tight nor too loose.

“Is this painful for you?”

“No, sir.” She sounds a little out of breath and nervous again, but her voice also carries the huskiness it adopts when she’s aroused.

“Can you see anything?”

“No, sir.”

God, it’s tempting to kiss and caress her now, maybe press his lips to every knob and indent of her spine before scraping his teeth over the small of her back and over those gorgeous globes.

But he has other plans for her, so he restricts himself to licking the spot he’s just bitten and then blowing cool air onto it. Goose bumps rise on her skin.

He inhales the flowery scent of her hair, the unique fragrance of her skin, mingling with a hint of crisp silk cloth.

“Turn around again.”

A little wobbly and off balance, Thalia turns to face him, and something about her blindfolded with his tie makes his cock twitch in anticipation.

Fuck, she looks hot like this, submissive but not too different, and definitely not uncomfortable.

“Touch me,” he commands, his voice rough. “Your sense of touch will be enhanced because you can’t rely on your eyes. I want you to run your hands all over my body and explore me as you’ve never done before.”

It takes all of his self-control not to haul her close for a kiss or fondle her breasts with their hardened tips when she starts caressing him. Her movements are tentative at first, hovering uncertainly at his shoulders. But she grows bolder with every ragged breath, her fingertips and palms traveling over his clavicles and his pecs, molding the ridges of his abs.

Emboldened by how intensely she must be feeling things and by the novelty of it all, she takes her time and really does explore him. Her nails graze over his nipples, making him moan. She glides her fingertips through the sparse hair on his chest and lower through the hints of happy trail leading south.

Fanning her hands outward, she explores his Adonis belt, tracing a vein down. Instead of moving lower, she touches his arms next, fingertips digging into his biceps when he flexes them. Her touch flutters over his wrists and palms. Interestingly, she explores his face next, studying him like a blind woman would to guess what he looks like. Her fingers brush over his high forehead and sharp cheekbones, linger on his mouth when he parts his lips and lets her seek out his teeth and tongue.

When she moves her hands to his waist and then back, wandering lower to cup his firm ass, Tom shivers in delight. Their bodies are pressed flush against each other, and it’s heaven and hell rolled into one. He grits his teeth to keep himself still, battling the need to really touch her and focuses on the subtle changes in expression on her face instead.

“On your knees,” he orders.

Thalia lowers herself unsteadily and reaches out to caress his thighs, trailing inwards to his balls, which she cups softly.

He hisses in a breath through his teeth, tensing when her fingertips massage the tender flesh and she rolls them slowly.

Probably unconsciously, her tongue wets her lips, as if she wants to run not just her hands but also her mouth all over him.

Fuck, he needs more.

With one hand at the back of her hair, half holding onto the tie’s knot and onto her hair, Tom keeps her in place.

“Open your mouth.”

Clenching his jaw, he shifts his hips a fraction so the head of his rock-hard cock brushes against her lips.

“Now explore me with your mouth.” It’s almost more of a plea than a command, and he can’t hold back a groan at the first slick of her tongue over him.

She licks away a bead of pre-come before sucking softly. Tom holds her head in place and drives his hips forward and back, sinking into the welcoming warmth of her mouth with agonizing slowness. Inch by inch, he lets her take more of him in, and it’s almost too much to handle.

Without waiting for his order, Thalia begins to lick and suck in earnest, and he can feel it in every cell of his body, the fierce longing to let go.

After a few more minutes of this sweet torture, he orders gruffly, “Stop.”

She obeys, but with a delay. Too turned on to remember punishing her, Tom yanks her up again and devours her mouth in a heady kiss that has them both moaning, biting and licking furiously.

He picks her up and half-throws her on the bed where she bounces, breasts heaving and begging for attention.

He wastes no time hunting for a condom in his wallet, tossing it onto the sheet before joining her on the bed. Crawling over her so he can cover her body with his, Tom lets her feel some of his weight.

“How was it for you?” he asks, barely able to form a rational thought and control his vocal chords.  “Did you feel everything more intensely?”

“Yes… Yes, sir.”

“Excellent. Now feel this.”

He slithers down and buries his face between her luscious thighs, wasting no time in working her up into a frenzy with his talented mouth.

“Oh God, unh… ugh, fuck…” Before long, Thalia is whimpering and shouting profanities, her inability to see heightening the sensations.

Tom pauses to reach up and tweak a nipple. “Quiet, girl, or I’ll stop and leave you hanging again while I pleasure myself and come all over your helpless body! No sounds, remember?”

She nods frantically, biting her lip.

“And you’re not allowed to come until I tell you to, understand?”

When there’s only desperate and very muffled keening, he holds down her bucking hips while pinching the nipple harder. “Understand?”

“Y-yesss, sir.”

“That’s my girl.”

He licks again, alternating between using the tip of his tongue and the broad flat of it, teasing and stroking. Pursing his lips around her clit, he sucks softly, which draws an animalistic sound from her.

He slows down a fraction, keeping her at the brink but not allowing her to jump off the cliff and drown into bliss.

Licking her delicious taste from his mouth, Tom moves up again. He holds her head and fumbles behind it, finally untying the silky fabric so he can stare into her beautiful dark eyes.

“More?”

Her hips still lifting and circling, she nods frantically.

“Yes. God yes, please, sir.”

Tom grins at her, frankly surprised that he hasn’t fucked her raw by this time because she’s so freaking delectable like this.

He shifts, crooking a finger at her.

“Sit up tall with your back turned to me and your lovely ass resting on your feet.”

Thalia moves as if in a trance, her whole body flushed and sweaty.

When she’s in the right position, he gives his next order. “Arms back, wrists together.”

Again, she reacts eagerly, her thighs pressing together to alleviate the ache between her legs.

“Good girl,” he praises her in a deep low tone, before giving her another love bite on the sensitive juncture between her neck and shoulder.

Her whimper travels straight to his cock, and he hurriedly wraps the tie around her wrists, tugging experimentally.

“Not too tight?”

“N-no, sir.”

He grabs and positions her as he wants, with her body braced on her knees and leaning forward and her ass in the air. The sight is so goddamn pretty that he can’t resist. In quick succession, he slaps both cheeks, hearing her choke on a needy drawn-out sound that’s more animal than human.

Alternating between displays of dominance and tenderness, Tom makes sure her head rests comfortably and she can breathe. He grabs the condom and sheaths himself, his hands shaking because he wants her so much. Wrapping a fistful of her hair around one hand, Tom tips her head back to whisper into her ear.

“Do you want me to take you like this, like the naughty girl you are?”

He rubs himself against her wetness, coating himself in the slick juices so he won’t hurt her.

“Hm? Do you want me to fill you so thoroughly that you think I’ve become one with you? Fuck you so hard that the guests on the whole floor will know I’m treating you well?”

Thalia moans incoherently.

“I’m afraid I can’t hear you. What was that?” He nips at her earlobe.

“Yeees.”

“Yes what, my pet? Tell your man what you want and he’ll give it to you.”

She fights for breaths and for her voice, trembling with need against him. “Please, sir, please take me like this. Make me come. Make me scream.”

Fuck, that’s hot.

Tom shifts and nudges her legs wider apart, settling on his knees behind her and giving her engorged clit a pinch that has her arch up with a mewling sound.

“You want it all?”

“Yes, sir, please.”

With one thrust, he sheaths himself fully in her, hissing at the tightness. God, it’s like he’s died and gone to heaven.

Thalia shouts, tightening around him in a vice-like grip that has him clench his jaw so hard it’s painful. When he slowly pulls out only to press himself inside to the hilt again, her shout turns into a guttural moan. He can see her body struggling to keep balance, can see her bound hands flex uselessly in search of something to hold on to.

Tom begins rocking into her, not as hard and fast as he’d like it because he’s a lot to take even with her state of arousal. From behind, he fits so incredibly well it’s as if they were built for one another.

He grabs her hip, fingers digging so deep that he’ll leave bruises. With his free hand on the back of her neck, he keeps her still while he pounds into her with all he has.

It doesn’t take her long to convulse around him, high-pitched keening telling him she’s close. Moving the hand around and letting it glide down the front of her body, he pinches a nipple before traveling lower and rubbing her slippery clit in tight circles.

Thalia arches up wildly and grows absolutely still, coming so violently around his cock that she can’t even make any noises. Tom follows close behind, feeling her milk him for all his worth.

As soon as he can somehow force breath into his lungs, he straightens and unties her wrists.

Massaging them tenderly, he peppers her back with kisses.

“Are you alright, darling?”

“Never been better,” comes the weak reply after a moment, and they both have to chuckle at that.

Tom turns and embraces her, shifting so they lie side by side and he can get a good look at her face.

tom and thalia.gif

“Enough new experiences for today?” he asks softly, brushing a strand of hair off her sweaty forehead.

She smiles, reminding him oddly of a sated and contently purring cat.

“Yea,” she giggles.  “You wore me out.”  Caressing across his brow with her thumb, she sighs contentedly.

#

Tom steps out of the shower and grabs a towel to dry himself off. His early-morning run has invigorated him – but truth be told, he knows that his good mood is mostly Thalia’s fault. This stolen day in Chicago with her has been a blessing. And he notices a subtle change in their relationship. More trust. They weren’t really the professor and his student yesterday, they were almost two normal people dating.

His blood heats at the memory of their tie play. God, she’s the hottest woman he’s ever met.

Starting to dry his hair, Tom walks into the room only to stop and admire her.

Thalia didn’t wake up when he snuck out for his run earlier, and she’s still asleep. The sheet has shifted with her movement, exposing one long, thick leg and part of her delicious curves. Her gorgeous curls are spread out on the pillow in tangles, giving her a certain wild look.

Tossing the towel aside, Tom prowls closer and slowly tugs the sheet further down. He licks his lips at the sight of her full breasts, remembering them bounce. There are faint bruises on them and on her waist where he’s sucked and bitten a little too hard, and his cock stirs at the sight of how he’s marked her.

She’s his.

And he’s hers too, even if he’s reluctant to admit that to himself. She’s wiggled her way into his life and now she’s as essential to it as his meals.

Banishing further thought, Tom leans over and shakes himself like a dog so that his wet hair sends water drops flying over her naked body.

She grunts and moves restlessly, one arm flinging out to the side. With a chuckle, he rubs his curly hair against her belly and nuzzles her breasts, spreading cool wetness over her skin.

With a small yelp, she jerks upright, hands automatically trying to fend him off.

Now laughing outright, Tom crawls on top of her and captures her wrists in his hands.

“Good morning, sleepyhead. I never knew orchids need so much time until they can bloom again.”

She reacts with a half-hearted eye-roll and a stifled yawn.

“Morning,” she grumbles. “You’re already up and showered?”

He nods. “Just came back from a run, actually, while you were lost in beauty sleep. Not that you need it, as you’re beautiful enough already.”

A blush begins to rise while she mutters, “You’re much too chirpy for this time of the day. Get your morning cheerfulness away from me.”

Tom grins and licks a few water drops from her breast, deliberately avoiding her nipples.

“Adorable. But I won’t tolerate slovenly behavior, Miss Bareo.” Shifting so he can sit up, he keeps her wrists in one hand while he moves the other to draw circles around a nipple, watching it pebble.

With a sound that reminds him of a purr, Thalia stretches beneath him. She drags her gaze to the alarm clock on the nightstand and gasps. “Oh, it’s much later than I thought.”

He dips and gives the now hard bud a tender suck, which instantly makes her focus on him again.

“I guess I wore you out last night, hm?” he asks with the lift of an eyebrow.

Her blush deepens, but a sassy look enters her eyes. “If I said yes, will that convince you that I need to be pampered with a 5-star breakfast?”

Tom throws his head back, his carefree ehehehe causing her to giggle too.

“As if I needed any convincing whatsoever when it comes to breakfast.”

He grows serious momentarily, trailing his free hand down to brush ever so softly over her thighs and center.

“Are you feeling sore, darling?”

She sobers and wriggles experimentally. The slightest grimace flickers on her face, gone in an instant.

“A little?”

Tom places gentle kisses around her belly button.

“Sore in a good way, I hope?”

She smiles, and it lights his whole heart. God, he’s fallen for her so hard it’s not even funny anymore.

“In the best way.”

Telling his interested cock to calm down, he forces himself off her.

“Go and refresh yourself, love. Then we’ll have that breakfast. But before that, there’s something I want to do.”
Interest widens her eyes as she wraps the sheet around herself and rises to go to the bathroom.

Before she reaches the door, he calls out to her.  “Oh, Thalia.  Last night, when you undressed me, you were dying to say something, love; what was it?”

With a flounce she stops and turns to him, laughter bubbling from her.  “I was just thinking about you being commando all day in the biting Chicago cold.  I almost felt sorry for you,” she giggles and disappears behind the door.

Bubbling with laughter himself, Tom makes the bed half-heartedly and paces the room, practically bouncing with energy when she returns a while later, still clutching the sheet.

“Only your panties and bra,” he commands softly when she bends for her clothes.

Thalia huffs, but she knows better now than to argue.

Taking her hand, he leads her to the far side of the room and points to the table.

“Pay attention now, Miss Bareo, I’m going to introduce you to the art of making proper English tea.”

She giggles, biting her lip when he shoots her a mock-reproachful glare.

“Yes, sir, certainly, sir,” she says in her most obedient tone, and he’s seriously tempted to ditch this and explore some more naughty roleplaying with her.

But he does take his tea seriously, so…

“Now,” he holds up a finger, using his lecturing voice although he can’t help grinning a little, “the most important thing by far is to choose the correct tea. But we’re sadly lacking in choice here, so the one they provide will have to do. I usually prefer Earl Grey or breakfast tea. And tea leaves would be even better than bags, but never mind that now.”

She nods, watching him grab a tea bag.

“Next, the water.” He holds out the kettle and motions for her to go and fill it while explaining, “Using old or coldish water in the kettle can result in scummy, scaly tea. So always boil it freshly.”

“Yessir.” Thalia salutes, which earns her a slap on a butt cheek.

“Behave. Tea is almost sacred for a true Englishmen.”

She quirks a brow at him. “Oh, is that why I’m supposed to make it half-naked? Wait, wait, wouldn’t that be a sacrilege of sorts then?”

With a feigned growl of anger, Tom plants a firm kiss on her mouth. It shuts her up for the moment, though the playful gleam in her eyes stays.

“Okay. Next step. If you want to make tea in a teapot, warm the teapot with hot water first , and then add one teabag per person. This ensures that your tea will stay hot longer. But we’re using two mugs with a tea bag each. The water really needs to be boiling when you pour it, simple hot water won’t free all the aromas.”

They wait for the water to boil, Tom allowing himself to be distracted by her fingers combing through her hair.

“Right. Now pour the water into the mug and stir briefly.”

He watches her do as told, displaying the same quiet concentration he is so familiar with from her studies.

“Now we let it brew for around two minutes.” Tom pulls her in closer, his hands always hungry for her skin. He caresses her waist and the small of her back, oddly happy to be standing here with her and making tea.

They share a smile.

“Ready. Remove the tea bag now,” he instructs.

Thalia does so, yelping in surprise when he clamps his hand around her wrist.

“No, don’t squeeze the bag. It’ll just make the taste bitter.”

“Yeesh, Tom, you really do take this far too seriously,” she complains half-heartedly while dumping the soggy bags into the bin.

“And now, oh maestro of the British tea culture?”

He pinches her waist softly, motioning to the condiments.

“Now it’s time for milk and sugar. And none of that low-fat nonsense for me.”

He drops some sugar in, making sure she’s watching. Then he takes her hand and helps her add milk slowly, controlling the amount.

“You need to watch for the right colour, darling. The perfect cup of tea will have a dark orange-brown look once the milk has been added and stirred. Too little or too much will totally throw the taste off balance.”

She rolls her eyes again, which earns her a second slap on her ass, this one stinging enough to make her pout.

Tom leans in to kiss the pout off her lips.

“Done…but not totally,” he announces. “Now we’ll let it rest for around four minutes until it’s the perfect drinking temperature.”

He takes a whiff of the fragrant steam rising, and she does the same.

“Catch that slightly fruity undertone?”

She nods. “Yes, what is it?”

“It’s a pinch of bergamot that is added to Earl Grey tea. Usually we should really celebrate the tea with some digestive biscuits or jaffa cake.”

“Oh, I remember that one,” she half-squeals, eyes instantly lighting up at the mention of food. “My roommate in London made me try jaffa cake. That mix of chocolate and orange was perfect.”

Tom gives her a joyful smile. “Ah, a girl after my own heart.”

He grabs his mug. “Now come and sit on my lap while I enjoy my morning cuppa. Repeat my instructions back to me. If you get them right, I’ll treat you to a spectacular breakfast.”

#

Trying to give her the privacy she deserves for her phone call, Tom places his earbuds in his ears while he checks over his flight information to return home the next day.  He shouldn’t have been concerned.  Her whole conversation is in Spanish, and he finally realizes she’s talking to her father.  Listening as the words roll from her tongue fluently he eavesdrops as she tells her father about enjoying a day on the town with a friend.  He can detect her father’s worry she didn’t return home when she sweetly reminds him she’s an adult and can be trusted in her decisions.  He keeps his head low as she watches him from across the room, blushing lightly when she explains to her father in her native tongue of Spanish, “He’s special dad, and you’d really like him, but it’s too soon in the relationship to meet family.”  His air of indifference holds until his laughter bursts out when she raises her voice to her father, shouting with frustration in Spanish, “God, yes we use condoms; I’m not stupid!”

Her head jerks to him and she blushes, shaking her head.  Ending the call quickly, she says defiantly.  “Shit, I should have known you were fluent… The way you roll your damn tongue,” she winks.  Sighing, she finishes.  “Dad’s a little old-fashioned; he gets I’m not a virgin, but he likes to meet my boyfriends.  He hates I went to school so far away from home, but it was the best choice for my studies… I know we’re a little non-traditional, you and I, so I’m not expecting you to meet my parents.”

He nods, crossing the room to her and hugging her close.  Meeting her parents and all a relationship should entail for a young woman…  Damn, he chides himself for the hundredth time, what am I doing?  Pressing his lips to the top of her head, he decides to set his thoughts aside for his solitary return trip home.

“Which museum shall we hit today darling?”

Click here to read Chapter 13, Alone

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