Paint Me, Professor | Student-Professor Erotic Novel | 18+ | ✔️

10 - "It Was My Fault"

Alison
***

My head felt like it was going to explode. I couldn't even open my eyes the pain was so intense. I reached for my blanket, noticing that it felt different. I reached for my phone on the bedside table, but noticed neither bedside table or phone where there.

My eyes suddenly jerked open.

Holy fucking shit. I was at Professor Damon's house.

I had a very vague memory of being in his car, but I had no idea why I ended up here.

I was dressed. Completely dressed actually. Dress, check. Bra, check. Panties, check. I even had my transparent pantyhose on.

Dieu merci.

I looked around, the room deadly quiet. The walls were painted navy blue, the curtains were grey. Under the bed, covering the dark hardwood flooring, was a soft beige carpet. He had a massive painting over his black bed frame. It was an abstract painting with black and white squares overlapping each other, creating a sort of disorganised chess tray.

His bed was huge and incredibly comfortable. I noticed he had left some clothes piled on one corner of his bed, as well as a towel.

I was so happy he hadn't undressed me. That feeling was shortly lived as I realised that although I had my clothes on, we might have still done something that I had no memory of.

I walked into his en-suite, the black and white marble cold against my bare feet. I slipped out of my dress and showered. I washed my hair with his shampoo. It smelled so good and masculine I could pass out. I got out, only to discover he had an unused hotel toothbrush next to the sink. He had clearly placed it there for me to use it.

My heart fluttered with that small gesture. He thought of everything.

I changed into the clothes he had left for me, a black T-shirt and grey sweatpants. It felt like I was swimming inside his oversized garments, but I welcomed the feeling of smooth fabric against my skin. If that wasn't good enough already, the clothes had his scent all over them.

I turned the handle of his door slowly as I walked out of his room. I had no idea where to go or what to do, but I did know I had to come out sooner or later. Besides, my head was killing me, I had to do something about it, fast.

As soon as I opened the door, I could hear footsteps down the dark hall. I walked towards the sound. I was so embarrassed I wanted to hide.

Once I reached the end of the corridor, my eyes scanned his apartment. It was a big open space with a black marbled kitchen isle in the center and cabinets in an L shape around it. Close to the windows was his living room and dining table. The whole apartment had burgundy walls, with the exception of one or two which were green. The same colour as my dress, I noted. His apartment was decorated beautifully. It was extremely masculine, sure, but it did feel cozy and inviting.

"Look who's up." Dr Damon said in a soft voice. He had his back turned to me, busily washing a few dishes. He was fully dressed in dark jeans and a polo.

A plate with toasts and a cup of hot chocolate were set on the isle. There were also two tablets of Advil next to the plate. I couldn't actually believe what my eyes were seeing.