Nellie and The Professor

"I feel like making it personal would be much more interesting."

A smile spread slowly across my face. "I don't know if I can answer that without you judging me, Professor."

"My judgement on the matter isn't important. It boils down to what you feel is excessive."

"So does, like... seven seem excessive?"

"Seven what?"

"People."

"Not particularly."

"So far. This year. If you don't count the, um, people who were watching that one time."

A nervous laugh bubbled up from his chest.

"Perhaps the question shouldn't be about the number but about the... content."

"Like what level of freakiness I get up to?"

"Something like that. There would be a lot of considerations, however. The level of freakiness, as you put it, but also the effect on your quality of life, the way you're finding yourself in these situations, the similarities and differences between partners and encounters, the general relationships you're having with these partners..."

"I mean, they're not really relationships. I'm not into the whole settling-down thing."

"I simply mean relationships in the context of how you relate to those people. A one-night stand is still a relationship by definition, though colloquially it wouldn't be considered a relationship, per se."

I dipped another fry in my ketchup and considered what he said. Was there anything in common with the people I'd fucked? A grad student in a backyard at a party. A threesome in a locker room, then a threesome with two cops after a night out. A sweet nerd with a penchant for voyeurism that I actually had tried to see more than once. And of course, J.P.: lawyer, well-off, brother of my childhood best friend.

After a moment, I shrugged.

"I guess it's just exploring," I said. "There's really no similarities between partners, and... well, like, there's always going to be some similarities between encounters, but they've been fairly different. I don't think I'm trying to like, recreate trauma or something."

"Would you say it's having an effect on your quality of life? Are you ignoring responsibilities or exhibiting compulsive behaviours?"

"No. It's not like if I don't get laid, I'm going to have a mental breakdown."

Professor Cameron's face turned slightly red.

"I'd say that takes hypersexuality off the table," he murmured.

I pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh. "So you don't think I'm a nymphomaniac?"

"If I had to qualify you as anything, it would be as a normal young woman with a curious mind and an above-average but healthy libido. As for the why..." He paused, pretending to think for a moment. "...I'm going to have to stick with my original instinct and go with daddy issues."

I groaned theatrically and slumped in the chair. Professor Cameron laughed at my display, finishing the last of his sandwich as I straightened back up in my seat.

"I don't have daddy issues," I said. "My dad is a dick, and that's an issue, but it's not like... I'm not going out and trying to find someone who will fill a void."

"Thankfully, otherwise this would be even more awkward," he mumbled.

"What would be more awkward, Professor Cameron?" I blinked at him innocently, but couldn't stop the grin that spread across my face.

"I believe you know, Nellie, and given that you do, I think calling me 'Professor Cameron' is a bit formal."

"I'm not calling you Daddy, if that's what you mean. That's just weird."

His face reddened, but he laughed.

"No, I'd prefer just Ben."

"Your name is Ben?"

Uncertain if I was joking, he nodded hesitantly. "You've been to my office multiple times. My name is on the door. And on the syllabus for every class you've taken."

"I didn't read the syllabus."

The scandalized look on his face was so genuine I almost felt bad.

"Sorry. I just wrote the due dates down when you said them in class."

"How did you do all your readings? The entire list was in the syllabus."

"There was a list? I just read the whole book."

"You read..." He shook his head in disbelief. "I can't even be mad about that. You did more work than you needed to."

I shrugged and laughed as he composed himself.

"Well, in any case, yes, my name is Ben."

The waiter came by to clear our empty plates and drop off the bill. Ben waved my hand away as he paid for both our meals, but I shoved cash for what I thought was roughly the cost of my meal into his hand after the waiter walked away. Patiently, he slid it back across the table.

"I invited you to dinner," he said. "So I would like to pay for dinner."

I begrudgingly took the cash back and tucked it into my purse. "Thanks, Prof... Ben."

Once outside the bistro, that uncertain, questioning moment of what would happen next settled over us. There was anticipation and doubt, exhilaration and fear, the knowledge that whatever happened in those next moments would change both of us going forward.

I hated those kinds of moments.

"So I live close by." I gestured in the general direction of my building. "Wanna come over and fuck?"

I worried for a moment that Ben might actually go into shock. A thousand things flashed across his face. I could guess what they were: surprise, desire, lust, ethical dilemmas, moral obligations. Probably the worry that I might actually be crazy battling with the hope that what they said about crazy chicks was true.

Then he shook it off.

"No."

It was my turn to be surprised. I wasn't used to being turned down, but if he didn't want to... well, that was his problem, not mine.

Shrugging, I smiled at Ben and slung my purse over my shoulder.

"All right. Thanks for dinner, Ben."

I had barely turned to walk away when his hand circled around my wrist.

"I mean I don't want to go to your place, and I don't... 'fucking' doesn't describe what I want to do to you."

There was nothing I wanted more than to find out what, exactly, he wanted to do to me instead.

Ben didn't want to go to his place, either. What he had in mind was a hotel a few blocks away. I laughed as we entered the foyer. It wasn't like I expected him to take me to a cheap motel, but I also didn't expect him to bring me to a ritzy place where my waitress uniform and lack of luggage made it very clear what I was doing there.

Maybe someone else would have been uncomfortable or embarrassed, but I relished the practiced, stoic look on the clerk's face as she asked Ben if he wanted two queens or a king.

"King's fine," I said brightly.

He turned red and I grinned at the clerk.

Ben second-guessed himself from the moment the clerk handed him the key cards to the moment I had to pluck one from his hand to unlock the room. Even as the door clicked shut behind us, he hesitated.

"Nellie, if you—"

"I wouldn't have literally asked you to come to my place and fuck if I didn't want to."

"Let me say this to clear my conscience. Please."

Quietly, I looked up at him as he cleared his throat.

"I have never... never done this with a student before, former or otherwise. There's no... expectation that you do this with me. You've already received your grades, I've already written you your reference letter, and I do not want you to feel like this is some kind of... payment. For that. If that's why you're here, we need to stop."

"What if I'm here because I literally just want to—"

"Please stop saying it like that." His mouth twisted uncomfortably. "I don't... that's not how I want this to be."

"I'm not into relationships, Ben. If you're expecting more..."

"No. It's stupid enough for me to even entertain the idea of... this, let alone making it something more."

He was just using a lot of words to say that he wanted to fuck and nothing more. I suppose it was one of those weird things that people don't think about when they're coming up with those teacher and student fantasies. Or maybe the uncertainty and need for justification was specific to psychology professors. Whatever it was, Ben had a lot to say before he would even consider proceeding.

I let him ramble for a few more minutes, but when he started justifying the ethics of what we were doing, not as a teacher and former student but simply as two humans in general, I had to stop him.

The problem was that I couldn't get a word in edgewise. After trying three times, I put my purse on the chair near the door, kicked off my shoes, and began unbuttoning my white uniform shirt.

"...which means that if you consent, and I consent, you can withdraw said consent if... what are you doing?"

I didn't respond as I shrugged the shirt off my shoulders, then lifted the undershirt I was wearing over my head. Speechless, Ben stared as I unbuttoned my black dress pants and pushed them away from my hips.

Once I was left in just my bra and panties, I looked at Ben.

"Yeah, so I'm cool with all this. If you're really that uncertain about it, you can go. I won't be offended. But I'm pretty turned on from just, you know, picturing all this. I'm gonna go check out that bed now and get myself off if you won't do it, so... yeah."

I unhooked my bra, dropped it to the floor, and started to turn away before Ben stepped forward, grabbed my shoulders, and kissed me.

Fucking finally.

I kissed him back eagerly, nearly melting against him as a hand moved from my shoulder to my chin, gently caressing my cheek before kissing me harder. Then he was running his fingers through my hair, trailing them down the back of my neck, touching me like he was making sure I was real.

"Bed?" I murmured against his mouth.

"Yes."

He parted from me just long enough for me to dig quickly through my purse for a condom, then for us to stumble to the bed. I stopped Ben from grabbing me again when we got there, instead nudging him to sit on the edge of the bed. He did so obediently, his knees parting so I could stand between them and kiss him again.

A few moments earlier, I wasn't sure that Ben would ever shut up. However, he was almost completely silent as I guided the sleeves of his blazer down his arms, then unbuttoned his shirt. I could feel his eyes on me as I undressed him but I didn't meet them. I was having the time of my life looking over every inch of his body as I revealed it.

He still didn't speak as I unbuckled his belt, but did make a soft noise as my fingers brushed over the bulge that was tenting the front of his pants. I licked my lips unconsciously, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, and tugged them down.

He shifted to help me remove them, pushing them down his thighs as I carefully lifted the waistband of his boxer-briefs over his very swollen, very hard cock.

"Nice," I said.

His laugh turned to a groan as I wrapped my fingers around his shaft and stroked it slowly. He twitched beneath my fingers, his head already sticky with precum. Still gripping him lightly, I kissed him softly before lowering myself to my knees.

"Oh..." He exhaled heavily as I looked up at him, running my tongue along the underside of his cock.

I licked from base to tip a few more times, enjoying the taste of his precum and the noises he made as I lavished him with my tongue. When I had thoroughly licked and tasted every inch of his cock, I glanced back up at Ben.

He watched, lips slightly parted as I stretched my lips around him. Slowly, I pushed my mouth down on him, taking more and more of his cock until he was pressed against the back of my throat. I adjusted myself slightly, opened my throat a bit more, and proceeded to get my nose all the way to his pelvis.

Ben groaned, panting a bit as I pulled back and then repeated the action. I moved carefully, deliberately, savouring the feel of each ridge and bump against my tongue. It was only after a few repetitions that Ben's hand found the back of my head, stopping me while he was buried completely in my mouth. He held me there, staring down at me.

"Give me a moment," he murmured. "You have no idea how you look with my... I need to commit this to memory."

I could imagine. I could almost see an image of myself reflected in his eyes, my mouth stretched around my professor's cock as I looked up at him. The inverse had to be true for him; his cock was buried in his student's throat, and that was clearly doing something for him.

When his hand left the back of my head, lingering just long enough that I knew he wasn't quite ready to let the image go, I kept bobbing my head. Ben groaned again and let me develop a rhythm, slightly faster, as I swallowed him over and over. Again that hand ended up on my head, just resting this time, and only tightening when he stopped me with that same reluctant linger.

"Something wrong?" I asked as he pulled out of my mouth.

"I don't intend to finish quite so soon."

I licked my lips and smiled. He pulled me up from my knees, bringing me between his legs for another kiss.

"I've barely gotten to touch you yet."

"Touch away," I said between kisses.

And oh, did he ever.

Before even lying down on the bed, Ben had touched every part of my body he could reach. He started with his arms around my waist, bringing my body close to his. With him sitting and me standing, his head was perfectly in line with my breasts, and he pushed his face against them, kissing and sucking on my nipples. Then he kissed the underside of each of them as his hands ran down my back and to my ass.

I still had my panties on. Ben tugged the waistband down so he could cup my ass as he kissed my stomach. His fingers dug in, squeezing and releasing, and then his hands continued down to the back of my thighs.

Despite how hesitant he had seemed at points, his hands were confident. It was almost surreal how he was able to pinpoint the exact spots on my skin that would make me shiver, almost orgasmic just to have him touching me. My whole body tingled under his touch, snakes of heated arousal stemming from his fingers through my nerves, all centering on the one part of my body he hadn't touched yet.

"Ben, please," I finally gasped.

He had almost come close to brushing against my pussy, but his fingers instead trailed down the inside of my thigh. He had to know how wet I was, had to have felt it staining my inner thigh, had to know he was tormenting me with his touch.

"Patience." His voice was muffled, lips pressed against my cleavage.

I whimpered, biting my lip, and felt him smile.

"I think I've already been patient enough."

He pulled his head back from my breasts to look up at me. His eyes sparkled and he smirked.

"Of course you have. Now you just need to be a little more patient."

I glared at him before smirking myself.

"Well, I mean, I did say I would just get myself off if—"

"Not a chance."

He grabbed my hips. I almost giggled at his reaction before he stood, twisted out from between me and the bed, and casually pushed me onto the bed with a surprising amount of strength. Before I could react, he was over me, brushing the hair off my face as it fanned beneath my head.

Then his lips were pressed to mine again. It was thrilling, the sudden loss of control, the surety with which he grabbed my tits and nudged my legs open. It almost killed me to pull away before it was too late.

"C-Condom," I gasped.

"Oh, we're not there yet." There was some self-satisfaction in his smirk, but before I could comment on it, he had started kissing my chest and breasts again.

Then he kissed my ribs.

Then my stomach.

Then, agonizingly slow, he teased his way down to my panties. He didn't remove them, but kissed the soaking fabric, his tongue darting out against my fabric-covered pussy.

I watched, almost mesmerized, as he kissed my pussy. The change from teasing torment to awe-inspired worship wasn't gradual; as soon as he finally slid my panties down my hips, his expression changed.

He gazed up at me for a moment, face stoic, his hair slightly askew. Then his head dipped, his tongue slid between my folds, and I was having my pussy eaten in a way I'd never experienced.

He didn't feast on my pussy; he savoured it. Each flick of his tongue was intentional; each kiss was purposeful. Ben's mouth was amazing, but even more amazing was the way he focused on my pleasure and my pleasure only. There was no question that he truly enjoyed what he was doing, and his genuine zeal manifested as adulation to my body.

I only stopped watching Ben lick my pussy when he pushed a finger inside me, almost lazily thrusting it in and out. The pad of his finger found my g-spot easily, and between that and the way he was lapping at my clit, I was getting close.

He slowed his movements almost imperceptibly as that final climb to orgasm started, just enough that the buildup was a journey in itself. I clutched at his hair, pulling his head close to my core, my legs tensing as he held his pace steady. Each motion sent a thrill of anticipation through me. One hand held my hip down, preventing me from pushing up into his face, though I strained to do so.

It was only when I started gasping, my breath coming in quick, desperate bursts, that Ben let go of my hip. I moaned, pushed my pussy against his face, and moments later felt my entire body begin to shake.

I sank into the orgasm, feeling each and every moment of bliss as it fired through my body. My toes curled, then pointed; my legs quivered around Ben's head. Warmth spread from that little spot low in my stomach, washing through each part of my body from my toes to my head. I cried out as I peaked, my body writhing as I came with Ben's tongue still ravishing my clit.

His movements slowed, squeezing out each tiny aftershock he could before he finally pulled away. His lips and chin glistened as he smirked at me again.

"How dare you be so good at that?" I panted.

"Years of experience," he said with a grin.

I reached for him, beckoning him forward until he was over me again, and kissed him. The feel of his body over mine was unreasonably comforting. He was warm and attentive, his lips inviting and soft as they worked against mine.

The tiniest flicker of contentment with the cozy, protective way he held himself over me pricked through my body. As soon as the thought that I could get used to this floated through my orgasm-hazed mind, I opened my eyes with a start and jerked away from Ben. He pulled back, concern written across his face.

"What's wrong?"

I had a... feeling. Like, a feeling-feeling. I wasn't about to tell Ben that, so instead did my best to squash whatever part of me decided that we were having feelings now and grinned up at him.

"I was just very relaxed," I lied. "And remembered suddenly that I still want to fu... I mean... um... you know what, no offence Ben, but fuck it. I still want to fuck you."

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he laughed. He kissed me again, brushing his hand across my forehead.

"I'd very much like to be inside you," he murmured.

"Condom," I whispered back.

He nodded and shifted on the bed, reaching for the condom I'd tossed on the nightstand. As he did, I sat up, waited patiently for him to put it on, and then shifted to my hands and knees.

"Like this?" he asked, slightly surprised.

"I like it like this," I said, wiggling my hips suggestively. "Don't you?"

Given the way he settled behind me and slowly--agonizingly slowly--pushed himself inside me, I imagined he did. He did that thing again; his hands tightened on my hips, holding me in place when his cock was about halfway inside me, and held still. I knew he was staring and let him do so for as long as I could, until finally I couldn't take anymore.

Shifting my hips under his grip, I whimpered.

"Please, Profes—I mean, Ben."

"Oh fuck," he swore, and his fingers dug into my hips as he shoved the rest of his cock inside me, stilling again once he was buried in my pussy.