“Two of the meanest words are fuck YOU”
She stared at the screen a moment. Her essay on social norms, and the role of manners in society had seemed to write itself in her head. But now sitting here, writing this, she was thrust back into that world.
The one she’d found on her computer by accident when she’d started googling. Maybe she was too old for college. Maybe she shouldn’t have dropped her life to make a stab at her long-lost dream of being a writer.
Maybe, fucking maybe.
She’d always been such a good girl. “Vanilla,” they called it, those dirty websites. Yet. After every image, every nasty story, she found her pubes tingling, her clitoris throbbing, and a sticky spot in her panties.
She wasn’t one of “them”…was she? Serena Howard of Stubens Illinois, a “kinkster”? Okay, she’d moved to New York to pursue her career in the market. She was good with numbers. She’d made a ton of money. She knew when to back out before a tumble. But the dream had persisted, and now here she was, sitting in the far reaches of the campus library and thinking about naughty sex instead of writing about social mores.
It was too bad her professor was so handsome. And aloof. She sat down front so that she could see better; some of the younger sluts…she corrected herself. Women. Some of the younger women sat near her, sweaters unbuttoned to almost their nipples, hoping to catch his eye.
And he did look, now and again. She’d rolled her eyes more than a time or two at their antics, and his smiling response. His grin had sharpened on those occasions when he’d caught her reaction, a raised brow letting her know that he understood her reaction-and didn’t care. The prick.
The sexy prick.
She deleted her first sentence and wrote instead, “Fuck YOU”
And stared at it.
The voice came from behind her and made her nearly leap out of her seat. She whirled around and looked up at the sardonic grin of Professor Maplewood.
“Surely not from my sweetest student? I find this shocking.”
That grin struck something in her and her brows drew into a frown.
“Are you making fun of me?”
“I do believe I am, Rina.” He cocked his head at her. “Bet you came up with a host of….interesting…websites regarding that. I can hardly wait to see your references.”
She blushed. Dammit. She’d always turned bright pink at the slightest embarrassment, and that was just as true now as when she was younger.
“Surely some of those things didn’t…hmmmm. Excite? Would that be a good word? Yes. Didn’t excite my star student?”
She wasn’t sure if she was mortified by his comment or pleased with being called his star student. He gave with one and took away with the other. Her pussy gave a little lurch. Did he have to be that sexy?
He leaned closer, almost whispering now. There was no one here in this back corner which was why she had chosen it. And this late into the evening on a Friday night? All the ‘kids’ were out doing the college scene…the local bar, the music, the drinking games. She, and her sexy professor, were very much alone here.
“Are you wet, thinking about those things, Rina?” The palm of his hand was warm on her knee as he reached out and touched her. Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers slid upwards.
Was that question, she wondered, slightly panicked, or an answer.
“Perhaps your essay should be begin with different words…”
Reaching over, he backspaced her cursor until it had erased “you”. His eyes flicked to her face as his finger typed out
“Yes.” Breathless now, as his fingers touched her through her panties, she knew this ‘yes’ was the right answer.
yes…it’s short. And you have to run with it from here. It’s a micro-tale. 🙂 Getting back into the groove of making time to write…I guess you could say I’m a work in progress! ~nilla~