The Layover

The last I'd heard from Marie was a big brush-off.

"I sincerely appreciate your interest," her e-mail said, "but I should probably tell you that I'm happily involved with someone else. I apologize if anything I did suggested otherwise."

We had met the previous fall at the university, where she was a student in the class I was teaching as part of my graduate assistantship. She was a senior in pre-med, and the class was a general education requirement she should have taken care of her first or second year. Being a few years older made a big difference: her ideas were consistently more sophisticated than those of the other students, and this alone would have made her stand out. But as it happened, I also found her incredibly beautiful. She was a slight, short, girl, the daughter of Chinese immigrants, and her choice in clothing was generally conservative. Still, when she wore shorts I couldn't help but notice her smoothness of her legs, and the sandals she wore showed off a beautiful pair of feet with painted toenails. Her brown eyes always widened when she laughed, which sometimes gave my cock an urgent, projected throb. She sat in the front row, and was always concerned about grades, which made her personality seem somewhat bookish. Yet she could also be playful and sarcastic and sometimes called me "teacher" instead of my first name, which is what I asked my students to call me. Maybe it was something in the way she said that word, "teacher," or in the number of times she came to my office to ask me questions throughout the semester.

Whatever it was, I optimistically wrote to her as soon as the semester was over and invited her to lunch. That was when she wrote back with the message. I started double-guessing myself and concluded that no, she hadn't really done anything to encourage me, and I felt embarrassed that my own interest had been so obvious when it didn't seem to be reciprocated. I saw her only once the next term. She said she had been accepted to med school, and would be starting in the fall. That, I assumed, was the end.

But the following year I was going back to school after winter break, and my connecting flight was overbooked. Those of us who didn't make it onto the plane got coupons we could use on the next flight out-which wasn't until the following morning. So there I was, stuck overnight in Houston with nothing to do but watch TV in a hotel room paid for by the airline. That's what it looked like, at least, until it hit me as I checked in that the last time I talked with Marie she said Houston was where she was going to school. It was nearly 11:00 by the time I got to my room, but motivated by boredom and bravery I went ahead and checked the phone book for her name. I was in luck. Not only was she listed, she was also home, answered the phone, and when I explained my situation she said she would love to get out of the house for a while and meet me, as she put it, "for drinks." The place where I was staying didn't have a bar, but a hotel across the street did, and we agreed that we'd meet there.

I tried to stay calm and tell myself not to get my hopes up. I wanted her, of course, as much as I always had, but there were good reasons to curb my lusty optimism. She could still be seeing that guy, and besides, she came off as being very level-headed, not prone to acting on impulse. We would probably just have a friendly conversation about neutral topics like school and the weather.

Marie saw me through the window from the parking lot, apparently, because she walked in with a big smile on her face and said, "Teacher!" and gave me a friendly hug that lasted a little longer than I thought it would. She'd cut her hair and was wearing glasses, but she moved the same, smiled the same, and the feeling of her body touching mine was enough to trigger an enormous hard-on. It curled up inside my jeans, straining to fully extend, and kept growing even as we walked toward a booth to be seated.

The conversation got interesting in a hurry. She complained about med school taking all her time and how she was desperate for any kind of social life. Also, she had dumped the guy—"he wanted me to drop out of school so we could get married"—and she wondered aloud why she even bothered to still take the pill. That took me aback. Here we were, old friends sharing drinks at midnight, and she had just implied that she hadn't had sex in months, but was still prepared for it. And so it went. She touched my arm a couple times, and everything she said seemed to me like a sign, but I didn't trust myself to read them right. Near one o'clock, it felt like things were winding down. The drinks were gone, and we were out of things to talk about.

"It's kind of cold in here," she said.

"Yeah."

"I bet your room is warmer."

My voice disappeared, and all I could do was jut my chin forward as if I were giving the matter contemplation.

"Let's go," she said, and grabbed her purse as if to close the conversation without further discussion. "I've had too much to drink to drive right away."

Almost before I knew what was happening we had paid our bill, walked across the street, and found the door to my room. I was fumbling with the passcard, trying to get it out of my wallet as she stood beside me waiting. Eventually I found it, and we went inside.

"Wow," she said as we entered the room. "I really need to sit down."

For a moment, it seemed like there really was a logical—and Platonic—explanation for what was going on: just like she said back at the bar, she had gotten a little drunk and didn't want to drive home.

"Are you sick?" I said. "Are you going to be OK?"

"Oh, I'll be fine," she said. "I didn't drink that much."

"Alright."

"Other things happen to me when I drink, but I don't get sick."

She sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at me standing in front of her. She opened her mouth as if she were going to say something, but then just leaned backwards and let herself fall.

"Oh, God," she said. Now she was staring up at the ceiling, and her legs rested, motionless, off the edge of the bed. For a moment, neither of us said anything. I sat down on the chair at the desk and looked down at her sandaled feet on the carpet. The toes weren't painted. No time, I guessed.

"This is a little scandalous, isn't it?" she asked, without moving.

"What is?"

"Us being here."

I looked up and tried to read her expression. She was still staring straight up.

"Because I used to be your teacher?"

"No, just because."

She lifted her legs onto the bed and turned on her side so she faced the outer wall. Strangely, even as she looked away from me, that was the moment when I decided I couldn't sit still anymore. I got up and walked over to the bed, where I lay down as gently as I could along her back and put my hand on her hip.

"What do you mean?" She didn't acknowledge my hand, but didn't move it, either.

"I just mean that here you are, in town for one night, and we haven't seen each other in a long time."

"It's not a scandal if nobody knows about it," I said. I moved my hand down to her knee and back again, then tucked it into the fold halfway up her closed thighs.

She didn't say anything for a minute or two, and I noticed her eyes were shut. I wondered if maybe she was going to fall asleep. But then she said, somewhat drowsily, "You know what, teacher?"

"No."

She took a deep breath and adjusted the position of her head. Her eyes were still shut, and it was as if she was pretending to be someplace else.

"You were always my favorite."

Favorite what? I wondered.

"I used to fantasize about you."

Her eyelids flicked open, and now she was looking straight at the curtains that had been drawn across the window. I felt my heart pounding, but the rest of me was frozen. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was so dry it felt like nothing happened.

"What about?" I asked.

She shrugged and adjusted her head again.

"Your class drove me crazy. Every time you looked at me I felt myself get wet."

I thought, or maybe even whispered, "My God." Then I moved my face toward her, nuzzling my chin just behind her ear, and she made the awkward turn over to give me a very hard kiss. I felt her tongue on my lips and stuck mine out to meet her so that we were side by side, touching with open mouths as she widened her thighs to let my hand move farther up. We kept going, tongues slick and ticklish on each other as I began to rub my hand in circles against the denim heat between her legs.

She pulled away and looked down at my hand.

"You know what?" she said.

"What?"

"I'm soaking through my jeans." And then she was off the bed, standing with her weight on one leg with the other slightly bent, undoing the button-fly one by one. I began to touch the place where my cock strained through my own jeans, and watched in amazement as Marie pulled down her pants and then leaned forward to remove mine. When they were off, boxers and all, she sat me up, squatted on the floor between my thighs so she was at eye level with my cock, and began to suck it as she jacked me off. She looked so beautiful, rolling her head around and around, back and forth. Once she stopped and pulled back, taking my cock at the base with two fingers and pointing it straight up so she could admire the sheen her mouth had left along its length. Then she locked her eyes with mine and went back, touching the tip of her tongue to me and sliding it, very slowly, up to the top where she kissed the head and repeated the whole thing without breaking eye contact. As she closed her lips around me again, I whispered, "What were the fantasies?" And in between her swallows and licks, she said, "Fucking. You were fucking me, and the whole class was watching."

"In the room?"

She nodded gently and took my cock out of her mouth to say, "On the desk."

Then she opened her mouth wide and swallowed me again, closing her lips around the pulsing shaft and slowly sliding them up and down. I watched her cheeks suck in as she drew up and off of my cock one more time.

Then she stood up and pulled my shirt off over my head. Now I was naked and stiff, watching as she stood before me and removed her own shirt. She was wearing a matching purple bra and barely-there panties, and I realized that she had dressed especially for this, planning my seduction from the moment I called. First she unclasped her bra, baring her modest breasts and nipples, and then she was pulling the panties down to her ankles, stepping out of them, and rising up perfectly nude. She was stunning. Her nipples jutted out, hard and anxious, and I saw at last the fullness of her legs, as well as the gorgeous curve where they came together. The sparse, dark hair was straight, not curly, and grew with perfect symmetry toward the middle.

"It's so beautiful," I whispered, and fell to my knees so I could prod my face into the bush, which tickled my nose and gave off a pungent smell. She was absolutely soaked. She awkwardly shifted her weight over me, and I crouched down a little further to give her room to widen her stance. My tongue flicked out and began to work through the hair, while I moved one arm inside her legs so that I could stroke her pussy lips with my thumb. But they were so hot and so wet that I wound up taking two fingers and slipping them straight up inside her without even trying. She let out a sharp sigh and began to scratch the back of my head as I tilted upward and strained to find her clit.

"Just fuck me," she said. Her legs were trembling and she was tugging at my hair. "With your dick, teacher. Take out your dick and fuck me."

I moved away just enough to look at her, seeing the white belly that turned up and away from me and led to her breasts. I let my fingers drop and sucked the juice off of them as she stepped to one side and lay down on the bed. When I stood up and saw her, it was almost more than I could bear. Marie was propped up on her elbows, a few strands of hair in her face, looking at my half-hard cock with an expression of impatience. Her legs were open. I put one knee down on the bed, then the other. She bit her bottom lip and looked up at my face as I leaned over her.

"I've wanted you for so long," I whispered.

She said nothing, but lifted her legs straight up into the air as I felt the tip of my half-hard cock touch the wet warmth between them. I slid inside her effortlessly, and grew harder as I began to move back and forth. We were kissing, now, almost forcefully, and she locked her legs around me as I started to thrust. It seemed like I kept going deeper and deeper every time, sinking in all the way up to my balls, filling her up with a dick that felt longer and thicker than it ever had before. I thought I would explode, but I just kept going, as she bounced her hips with me and clenched her legs even tighter just below my ass, sticking her tongue in and out of my mouth with the same slow pleasure she had taken when she had given me head.

I paused with my cock all the way inside her and pushed myself up. I stayed still, but she kept going, swiveling her hips and rotating my hard prick around and around inside of her. Starting at her shoulders, I drew my fingertips down to the rosy points of her breasts, onto her stomach, and then let them rest on her sides, leaning back so I could see where my dick disappeared inside the lips of her pussy. The beautiful, smooth mat of her bush gleamed with sweat and come, and with her hands balled up into fists she hit the mattress over and over, saying "Fuck me, fuck me"—but she was the one doing all the fucking. Again and again she slid herself up and down my cock, her stomach muscles taut as she lifted her ass in the air to keep me inside of her.

"Come on, teacher," she said. "Fuck me really hard."

I shoved my hands underneath her and supported the small of her back. Then I pushed forward, so hard that she slid a few inches closer to the center of the bed. A tremor passed through my cock as I pulled all the way out of her, then plunged in again. I did this over and over, going all the way out and all the way in, very slowly, and she responded by lifting her legs up over my shoulders. Now her pussy was lifted well off the bed, and I pulled one cheek of her ass to the side so that my balls would slam the hole between them.

Marie started gasping, moaning, shaking her head back and forth. She rolled her hard nipples between her thumb and middle finger for a while, and then pounded the bed with her fists again. I pulled my dick out and let it bob against her clit.

"Inside," she said. "Keep it inside."

I tapped her one more time and then gave her what she wanted, sliding back in and grinding my hips against her opened legs. With my cock fully pressed into her, I wet a finger with spit and reached underneath her again to the moist opening of her ass. As I touched the little hole with my fingertip she was panting heavily with anticipation, knowing what I was going to do. Then I pressed it in, very slowly, barely half an inch or so, and Marie did the rest. With her feet on the bed, she shot herself forward so that her ass was filled as deeply as it could be, and then all at once I was furiously pumping my cock in and out of her, feeling it all with my finger through the thin membrane of skin.

"Oh God," she said, and tried to say it again, but all that came out was a loud moan as she hit the bed with her fists. I pumped in and out of her, slowly but steadily, keeping the pace until she relaxed the arch of her back, loosened her fingers, and the only sound she was making was a rapidfire pant. She rolled her eyes back for a moment, then shut them and turned her face to one side. It was almost like the way she had looked when I first moved onto the bed, as if she were in another world. I couldn't believe it—I had gotten her off by fucking, and I was still hard at work, riding her dripping pussy. I could feel myself pulsing out to maximum thickness and back again, and just then she smiled and said, "You feel so good in me."

"I can't wait anymore," I said.

She opened her eyes. "Not inside, not inside." I slowly drew my finger out of her ass and she backed up on the bed so that my cock sprang out, shiny and slick. "Give it to me here. Right here," she said, touching the space between her breasts. I moved over her stomach and had barely even curled my fingers around my shaft when the pressure became too great. I moaned and began to come in thick, milky spurts that splattered up and down from her neck to her stomach.

I was still squeezing my cock, feeling it throb in wave after wave as I leaned forward and managed, somehow, to fall down beside her. She turned in, kissing me, pushing her tongue into my mouth and pressing her cum and sweat-drenched torso against mine. She threw one leg over me, grabbed my ass, and we stayed that way for a very long time.

We slept lightly, touching, kissing, and tasting each other until finally, at some point, I became aware that she was no longer beside me. I heard the sound of running water from the bathroom. Then it stopped.

"Teacher."

I opened my eyes and saw Marie standing beside the bed, leaning over me and smiling. She was dressed and had her purse over her shoulder.

"Time to wake up," she said. "Your shuttle comes in 30 minutes."

Her voice alone was enough to make my cock stiffen and push against the sheet that covered me to the waist.

"A-minus," I said.

"What?"

"I'm your teacher, and that's your grade for seduction. A-minus."

She raised an eyebrow and sat down beside me.

"Why 'minus?'"

"For waiting so long."

"Sorry," she said. "I was always too scared." She traced her fingertips down my stomach, and gently closed her hand over my erection through the sheet. "I hate the idea of an A-minus on my permanent record, though. There must be something I can do."

She pulled the sheet back to reveal my hard-on, then leaned over to lick it from balls to crown. It twitched and began to grow.

"Maybe next time you"re in Houston, I could get some extra credit."

She kissed me very lightly on the lips and walked to the door. She took one look back as she opened it, flashed her brown eyes at me, and then she was gone.