As I got out of the pool, water running down my naked body, I noticed a man watching me. He was sitting on one of the hotel pool loungers, in the dark. I had not seen him before. Me and my friends had come down a little earlier, stripping off all our clothes, jumping into the warm water, laughing out loud and acting silly. It wasn’t really me, but I was trying to fit in, as per usual, only this time, it worked. Maybe it was the tequila we drank, or the shots after that, or the cocktails the guys at the casino had bought for us later. The whole night was a bit of blur.
But it felt good.
And I liked this version of me.
“Come on, Amy!” my friends called out to me.
“I’m coming,” I said, but that is not what I did.
Instead, I looked at the guy who was staring at me.
I realized it was Professor Cross. I was startled. This was the second time I’d seen him since our arrival in Las Vegas. Soon after our arrival at the hotel, we’d gone for drinks in the bar. Isabella and Tamara, my roommates at college, were checking out the guys. Isabella had pointed him out, saying, “He’s hot, right?”
Tamara chuckled suggestively, “Silver fox, definitely.”
I tried to find the man they were talking about and with a jolt, saw the person who had belittled me in class all year, the same professor that I had in college for one of my trickiest subjects.
“Guys, no!” I said, quickly turning away from him so that he could not see my face.
“That’s Professor Cross. He’s an asshole, trust me.”
Tamara giggled, “Are you sure? I think he is cute!”
I tried to see what they could be thinking and maybe, there was something not completely unattractive about him. But I had seen another side of him and that clouded my opinion. I tried to find some other guy they could focus on, a tall waiter with an impressive physique who was just Tamara’s type. I didn’t want to have anything to do with Professor Cross on my one weekend away from college.
But that was hours and many, many cocktails ago.
Being alone at the pool with him, suddenly, it was all different.
He was staring at me in a way that was quite a turn on. Perhaps that was why I didn’t rush for the nearest towel. All year long, he had been criticizing my work, telling me I wasn’t trying hard enough or missing the point, making me feel ignorant and dumb. Like some kid who didn’t belong in his class or trying to do anything serious with my life. The tables were turned now, though. I had the power in this situation, and I liked it. I was not usually like this; it was so unlike me. But what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, right? Isn’t that what people always said? I wanted it to be true and I had enough alcohol coursing through my blood to make me feel like I could do anything I wanted.
I decided to make Professor Cross sweat a little, like he had made me sweat all year.
I slowed down my movements, feeling each step out of the pool, careful as I lifted myself out of the water.
The desert night was quite chilly, but I had drunk enough tequila to numb the cold. I walked towards him, heading for the pile of towels on the lounger next to him. I didn’t bother sucking in my stomach or trying to be sexy. I knew I had a good body, I had always taken care of myself, eating well and being healthy. I exercised, my stomach was flat and taut. There was a slight breeze, and I could feel my nipples harden, my breasts lift. I might be insecure about a lot of things, but my body wasn’t one of those. I straightened my back to give him a proper look. Still think you are better than me, you old bastard, I thought to myself as I came closer.
I leaned forward a bit, my breasts only inches away from his face.
“Do you mind handing me a towel?” I asked in my sweetest voice.
Professor Cross stared at me as if he hadn’t understood me. I had the feeling my behavior came as a surprise. He wasn’t expecting me to act this way after the way he had been treating me all year. Maybe he thought I would be more submissive, like I was in class. Respectful, maybe. There was nothing reserved about me now and I liked it. I had drunk just enough not to worry about what he thought of me or how my little act was coming across. I had spent all year trying to please him, trying to figure out what he wanted me to do so that I could get better grades. I didn’t think about the fact that I was using my body to make a point. It was payback. Maybe I wanted him to see that there was more to me than he might have thought. He was just a man, an older man, at that, long past his prime, while I still had my whole life ahead of me. Either way, I was enjoying the look on his face.
“It’s really cold,” I said, pouting provocatively as I crossed my arms under my breasts, squeezing them out and together for full effect. He reached out to get a towel, his eyes still glued to my breasts.
“Here,” he said, his voice breaking as he handed it to me. I took it but it slipped from my grasp. He jumped up to get it.
“Wait,” he said, his voice husky. “Let me.”
He took the towel and draped it over my back, pulling the front over my shoulders to cover the front of my body. As his hands tugged down on the towel, I felt his thumbs on my breasts, the rough skin of his fingers on my nipples. I felt them react to his touch, contracting. I was incredibly aroused by that; the way he brushed against me, his hands lingering near my skin. I could feel myself wanting to move closer. But I held back, liking my control of the situation. I was still a virgin, after all, and no matter how much I was enjoying our little game, I had no intention of taking this any further. His eyes were dark, and I dropped my gaze as I took the towel from him, my hands briefly meeting his, an electric touch.
“Thank you,” I said in a low voice, giving him a hint of a smile as I looked at him sideways, turning away from him. “That’s really nice of you, Professor.”
I walked over to get my clothes and he came after me.
“Wait, wait!”
I picked up my clothes, ignoring him. Slipping on my jeans and top, aware that he was watching me getting dressed. I leaned forward to push out my behind and as I did up my jeans, I turned to catch his eye, unashamedly holding his gaze as I pulled up the zip. I had put on my top without my bra and my wet breasts clung to the sheer fabric.