One Plus Two Minus One Ch. 03

"Shit," she said. "Most days."

They looked at each other and she was suddenly breathlessly turned on.

"After lectures?" he said.

"When I got home. On Thursday I think, yeah."

"Straight after?"

"A bit after."

"So while I was at home, thinking about you, you were at home thinking about me."

"Oh shit," she said. "Oh shit, fuck me."

He fumbled around with the condom while she bit her lip and made herself wait. She wanted to scream, or snatch it away from him and do it herself, but she stayed still. He got it in the end, and slid on top of her, and she grabbed his cock and pulled it inside herself. Pulled this hard solid thing inside herself, and couldn't think or breathe for a moment as it went in.

She'd had it before, but this was different. She had time, and was in her bed, and he wasn't hurrying now. She'd never quite got the hang of comparisons, could feel a difference when they were inside her, but couldn't remember one against the next to look at. Ethan was about as long as her hand, and as thick as her fingers would go around, and that was perfect, more than enough. He was fucking her wildly again, enthusiasm rather than finesse, and she left her hand between them, her fingertips steering him back inside when he slipped.

He fucked her until she couldn't think.

He watched her, and told her she was hot, and told her he loved her body, that he wanted to watch her come.

"Soon," she said. "When I do."

He said he couldn't believe he was doing his professor, and Beth glared at him. "Don't say that," she said. "Fucking seriously."

"Sorry," he said.

She was too. "Just don't," she said. "Fuck me."

He turned her over and did her doggy, and filled her. She'd forgotten sex could be like this. He was pushing into her hard, bumping her up the bed. She had to grab the bed-head and hold on to keep her balance. She was close. Closer because she was face-down, not being stared at and she didn't want him seeing her orgasm face. Closer because he was behind her and she kept fucking him like that. He was trying to grab her clit from behind, getting tangled, messing up his timing.

"No," she said, and pushed his hand away. Pressed on it herself. After a minute, wondering why she said it. "Hold my wrist."

He did, and she came. She must have been closer than she realized. She came, a long, breathless, gaspy orgasm, and worried as she finished that she'd been louder, more whorey-sounding, than she'd meant to.

"Yeah?" he said. Gasped.

"Yep," she said. "Go."

He must have been holding back. He shifted, went faster. She put her face down, leaned on her arm. She could see his face in the mirror, under her other arm. He was staring down at her, watching her. Watching his cock go into her, maybe. Or just watching her back, the back of her head. She couldn't quite work that one out, then she did. He was watching like he couldn't believe he was inside her. Like he had a crush, and wanted this, and he couldn't believe he'd got it.

She liked that. She was starting to trust him, to believe he meant everything he said. She knelt there and watched his face. She could feel when he did, inside herself, but she could see it on his face too, when he closed his eyes and stopped moving for a second, and opened his mouth, and was done.

He lay down on her back, so she slowly tipped forward. Lay on her and hugged her and kissed the back of her head. She was hot. Her skin was sweaty. She couldn't breath properly underneath him.

"Hey," she said. "Don't worry about that."

He looked at her.

"You don't have to," she said. "Hold me afterwards and all that shit."

"I don't mind."

She pushed him off. "I do. It's too hot."

He kissed her.

"Don't do that either," she said.

He rolled over onto his back and looked the ceiling, breathing hard.

"And hey," she said, while she was criticizing. "Don't talk so much about me being your professor, okay? It's kind of creepy."

"Yeah, okay."

They took turns in the bathroom. Him first, because he had the rubber on. "Out there," she said. Pointed. "Closed door across the way."

She sent him to the main bathroom, not the ensuite. It wasn't really thought out, but it felt right once it was done. She didn't want him hearing her pee that close by, didn't really want to hear him either, but most of all she didn't want him in her space. Guests went into the main bathroom, it was kind of a public place. Since she'd been living here she'd been the only person in the ensuite and she'd got used to not sharing.

She heard the flush and the delay after was long enough he'd probably washed his hands. She got up and went herself, was quick because she didn't completely trust him, half expected him to be gone, but when she came back she found him sitting on the bed. He watched her come back.

She perched beside him. She found this moment a bit awkward. Basically making small-talk to prove you cared about his mind and therefore weren't a total slut. Or while you waited to see if he could get it up again.

Ethan started looking around her room. In the wardrobe, in her drawers. He didn't get up, but he didn't need to, because she wasn't that tidy. The wardrobe doors were always open, as were two drawers of the dresser. He was peering.

"Stop it," she said.

"I'm not doing anything."

She had a pile of books beside the bed. He rolled over, picked them up.

"Stop."

"I just want to look."

The books were all work ones, all dull and too advanced for him to understand. Mostly in maths you read papers on your computer. Very occasionally someone printed an actual book, and she took those home to read at night. He looked at the spines, then rolled over and put the whole pile down again. He stood up and started wandering around the room.

"Hey," she said. "Watch it."

"I'm just curious."

"Why?"

"Why not? I've already seen the worst." He looked at the vibrators on the floor.

"How do you know that's the worst?"

He looked at her.

"I'm just saying, there could be whips and a gimp mask in the hall cupboard."

He looked out towards the hall, almost interested.

"Nope," she said. "Fine, poke around in my life." She lay there and watched him.

He looked at her underwear, and said, "You've got some nice stuff."

"Yep."

"Do you wear them to lectures?"

She looked at him for a moment. "Yep."

He looked in her wardrobe. "I remember some of these."

"Careful."

He grinned, pointed to a dress. "That goes see-through when the light's behind it."

"I know."

He sat beside her and kissed her some more. Kissed her face, her neck, then slowly tipped her over, laid her down so he could kiss all down her back, down her spine, to her ass.

"What are you doing here?" she said. "I mean really. I'm too old for you."

"I've had a terrible fucking crush on you for a year."

"I can't decide if I should believe you."

"You should."

"I can't. I haven't yet. It's pissing me off a bit."

"Just believe me."

"Why should I?"

"You're smart. I like smart."

She was a bit surprised by that. "Not that I'm your professor?"

"I thought we weren't supposed to talk about that?"

"Just this once."

He slid off her, sat beside her. "Not really," he said. "Kind of, but not really. If you'd just been someone in the class, I'd still want you."

"Someone smart?"

"Yeah, the chick who always talks to the professor, who always asks the right questions. Her."

"I used to be her," Beth said. "I don't think anyone thought it was sexy."

"They just didn't know how to tell you."

She at him for a moment, then grinned. "I'm older than you," she said.

He shrugged.

"Do you mind I'm older?"

"One way or the other, I don't really care. You're not that old."

"Huh," she said, and lay backward, tired. He lay down beside her, not quite touching. They were both quiet for a while. She listened to the wind in the trees outside, and thought he might have dozed for a while. She felt sleepy too. Sluggish and sated and fucked more than she was used to.

It started to rain, heavily. Some thunder boomed a long way away.

"Maybe I should go," he said.

"Wait until it stops," she said. "You're fine."

He nodded, and kept lying where he was.