“Lean back against the couch like I just was,” he said. We traded positions, so I was sitting, and he stood in front of me, pushing my thighs apart. He kneeled on the edge of the couch, hoisting one of my legs, then the other, up onto his shoulders. I could feel the head of his cock pushing against me, that momentary pause before he slid in, halfway first, then, with a slow push of his hips, the rest of the way in. I took a deep, shaky breath, trying to relax my muscles around him. My body felt as though it were humming with electricity.
He started to move, pushing himself in and out of me. I’d never actually done this position before, with my legs up on someone’s shoulders, and it felt as though he were further inside of me than anyone had ever been. I tried to take deep breaths. Little groans escaped from my throat.
He was moving faster now, practically folding me in half, as though he was going to compress my pleasure into the tiniest space possible before allowing it to explode out. I was right there at the edge, about to get pushed over, when suddenly he stopped. My eyes flew open. He was still inside of me, still hard, but his hips remained still. He eased back a little so my legs slid off his shoulders.
“Wrap your arms around my neck,” he said. “And wrap your legs around my waist. Hold on tight.”
I did as he said, and, with his cock still inside of me, he stood up slowly. Now that I was upright, he was putting more pressure on a different part of me, and it sent a shiver up my spine. I rocked my hips back and forth, trying to rub against him, because each time I did it, that shiver got more and more intense. It felt like it was shooting into my brain, and like my whole body was just going to dissolve. I thought he was going to walk over to the wall and press me against there and finish the job, but instead, he went over to the sliding glass door at the other side of the living room. He slid it open and then we were out on a small balcony. I could hear cars below, someone shouting something. There was a round teak table and a few chairs; he kicked one of the chairs out of the way he slowly lowered me onto the table. The wood was cool and smooth against my ass. There was the mildest of breezes, and it blew my hair softly against my face. His cock had remained in me this whole time, and once I was on the table, he grabbed onto my hips and began to fuck me again. He moved slowly at first, doing circles, first one way, then the other. My inner thighs were like jelly. I reached around and gripped his shoulder blades, then raked my fingers down the smooth planes of his back. His movements sped up, and I arched my back, feeling the head of his cock press right against that spot inside me. I shuddered, feeling like the amount of pleasure coursing through my veins was going to overflow and explode out of me. We were both panting, our movements synchronizing. I squeezed my eyes shut, my brain short circuiting as the sensation overtook me and I let out a shriek, not caring that we were outside, that people could hear me. Leo came a moment later, letting out his own anguished-sounding growl, his muscles trembling underneath my fingertips. We were both slick, drenched in sweat. He buried his face against my neck, his breath warm.
“That was incredible,” he said. “Holy shit. Wow.”
Instead of going back inside right away, we stood there on the railing, looking out over the city. I didn’t care that I was completely naked, that anyone could have looked up at that moment and seen me, even though we were mostly shrouded in darkness. It felt deliciously risky, the whole thing.
And I couldn’t wait to do it again.
12.
Leo
There was a part of me that wanted to go over to the white board and scrawl I am sleeping with Tessa on it, just to see what the reaction would be. I could imagine the surprised, disbelieving faces. With the exception of her friend Lindsey, no one in this classroom had any clue what was going on, and I found that to be both unbelievable and a bit arousing. To everyone else, me looking over at Tessa was simply a teacher making eye contact with a student, nothing more. I liked the idea that we were sneaking around, that we were doing something that no one else had any idea about. Yet at the same time, it seemed almost implausible that no one was able to sense the energy between us, no one was able to realize that the looks we were sharing were so much more than just looks.
Today, Kristin had a stack of assignments she’d graded and was going to hand back. I had gone through the papers after she did, mostly skimming what the students had written, and glancing over some of the comments she’d added, too.
“I’ll hand the papers back,” I said to Kristin. She had started to reach for the stack, but I pulled them back. I had paper-clipped, not stapled, the note to Tessa’s assignment, and I didn’t want to take the chance that it would get detached before reaching her.
The note said: Wear a skirt and no underwear to the next class. I handed Tessa her paper back, and though I continued handing the rest of the papers to the other students, I kept her in my peripheral vision. I saw her flip the first page back and come across my handwritten note. Her brow furrowed slightly as she read it; then that friend of hers, Lindsey, leaned over, said something I couldn’t quite make out, and Tessa had to hurriedly flip the front page of her paper back down. Her cheeks were flushed a little, but there was a tiny smile at the corners of her mouth.
I took my place back at the front of the classroom. “I’d like you to begin brainstorming possible articles for submission to the first issue of the Benton Daily Journal,” I said. “Ideally, it would be a feature article, but something shorter would also be acceptable since this is the first time that most of you have submitted something for publication.”
“Are they allowed to submit previously written articles?” Kristin asked. “I think there were a few that would make good candidates.”
I hadn’t thought about this, but sure, why not. “I don’t see why that would be a problem,” I said.
“And who’s in charge of deciding what gets published?” someone asked.
“I think eventually the students will be in charge of that. They haven’t named an editor-in-chief yet since this is really just getting back off the ground again, but right now, Carla Douglass is going to be overseeing that role. I’m helping her, so together we’ll get to decide which articles we put in the first issue. And we’ve definitely covered enough material in the course that I have full confidence in every single member of this class being able to write something that could be published. You all have that ability; you just need to put it to good use.”
Most of the students seemed genuinely excited at the prospect of possibly getting something published, which, even I had to admit, was a bit refreshing. I still remembered how I felt the first time something of mine had been published, and there really was something to be said for seeing your name, in print, and knowing that people who didn’t even know you were going to read it.
I was hoping Tessa would hang around after class got out, but she and Lindsey were deep in conversation; rather, it appeared that Lindsey was telling her something and Tessa was listening intently. They walked out of the classroom together, though not before Tessa shot a burning look my way, with such an intensity it made my groin ache.
I could feel Kristin’s eyes on me as she packed up her stuff. “What do you think those two are scheming?” she asked.
“Who?”
“Tessa and Lindsey. It seems like they’ve got something up their sleeves.”
I shrugged. “Maybe they’re talking about what sort of article they’re going to write for the paper.”
She snorted. “I doubt it. Though I must say, Lindsey did a far better job than I was expecting on that most recent assignment.”
“Well, don’t judge a book by its cover,” I said.
Kristin frowned at my use of a cliché. “I’d like to help you with picking out the articles. I mentioned it to Carla, and she thinks it’s a good idea.”
“Sure,” I said. That meant fewer articles that I would have to read, and that was fine with me. I packed up my shit, said bye to Kristin, and headed down to my office.
Someday, this would not be my office anymore, a prospect that didn’t exactly make me sad. Though I didn’t hate it right now. I didn’t hate Benton right now, either, and I wasn’t eagerly daydreaming about when I would no longer work here; rather, I was eagerly daydreaming about getting to be with Tessa again.