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Zaria's POV:

Taking an extra gap year before starting college would have probably been the best thing to do. If I'd known my final year of undergrad would consist of me getting fucked in the back of a professor's car once a week, I would've chosen my path far more carefully.

Who knew that a couple instances of prolonged eye contact in the classroom, and extended office hour sessions would lead to my involvement in a full-blown sexual relationship with a married woman...who happens to teach me the ins and outs of Women's Studies every Tuesday and Thursday.

Now before you hand me a Scarlet letter, let me explain what got me into this mess.

This woman is paying my tuition.

My freshman year of college, I was well taken care of. I had a full-ride Legacy scholarship, thanks to mom and dad's previous attendance, and not to mention a 3.7 high school GPA. Oh, I was a force to be reckoned with. I was involved in my community, conducted after-school tutoring, was even captain of the cheer team. My constant busy schedule eventually paid off, and my cost of attendance for undergrad went from $80,000 a year to zero. I arrived on move-in day with every dorm essential, and non essential, item I could fit in a U-Haul and enough spending money to swim in. I would've been a fool to put this lifestyle in jeopardy.

Well call me foolish, because somewhere along the way, I lost it all. I met a guy, not even worth naming, and thought I was gonna marry him which caused me to completely abandon my purpose to keep his attention. He had not one, but two wandering eyes and his penis soon followed. He cheated on me nine months into our relationship. Now, a woman with the slightest bit of intelligence and self-esteem would've exited stage left soon after, right? Not me. Somewhere in the depths of my inner loneliness and fear of rejection, I foolishly figured if I stayed in this man's face constantly, he wouldn't feel the urge to wander again. I started missing classes, assignments, tests. I even skipped a few final exams. After a couple of years of this insanity, my GPA plummeted to a 1 point fucking 9. By the end of my Junior year, I found myself on academic probation and subsequently I lost my Legacy scholarship, which brought my cost of attendance back up to 80 grand.

Telling my parents was out of the question, so I made use of the obvious attraction between me and Professor Winters. After a thorough conversation during one of those infamous office hours meetings, we decided that if I agreed to see her regularly she would take care of my tuition payments through my final year of college. It's a quite simple transaction. She pays for my classes, and I give her the opportunity to live out the fantasies her husband denies her at home.

Look, I'm not proud of the situation I'm in. The only person I've spoken a word about this to is my best friend, and roommate, Mackenzie who I know can keep her mouth shut. We've known each other for years, and she's always had my back and remained loyal.

I know one day, I'll have to come to terms with trading my body for a few classes and meal points, but the most pressing issue at the moment is finding my panties under the passenger seat of this lady's car.

"Do you need a ride back to your dorm? I'm a little pressed for time today" Laura questioned, as she refreshed her messy, blonde hair and makeup in the rearview mirror.

I squirmed around the backseat of the car trying to find my neon orange thong while Laura got settled in the driver's seat.

She requested these exact panties 99% of the time. It's her favorite color.

I breathlessly responded, while hiking up my clothes over my ass.

"No, I'm actually meeting Mackenzie in the library in fifteen minutes. I would rather walk there than show up in your car."

"Suit yourself," she shot back with a shrug of her shoulders.

We usually avoided long conversations outside of "your place or mine?" We both preferred it that way. The less we knew about each other, the easier it would be to keep up this foolishness without any attached feelings.

I'll admit that in the beginning of this arrangement, the idea of sharing my body with somebody I barely knew was a foreign concept to me. I never previously had sex with anyone outside of a committed relationship. Laura, on the other hand, is a natural. Whenever we hook up, she acts as a shapeshifter. One minute her hands and mouth are buried in the hidden crevices of my body, the second we're finished she suddenly snaps back to reality and can't even look me in the eye. She becomes "Professor Winters" again.

I think a certain part of her can't come to terms with what she's doing. Having sex with me means negating all rules regarding ethics, cheating on her husband and looking her deepest darkest secret right in the face. During our first sexual encounter, she disclosed to me it was the first time she'd taken her ring off in 5 years.

Yikes.

I believe that's part of the reason I'm not allowed to touch her. She does all the work, and my only job is to look pretty and take it. Easy enough. Still, sometimes her inner turmoil puts a palpable strain on our interactions and I can't wait to squirm away as fast as possible.

Once I found and slid my clothing and shoes back on, I stepped outside of her car to begin my journey to the library.

When I turned to walk away, I heard Laura speak up again.

"Same time next week?"

I inwardly rolled my eyes.

She turned around, and placed her right hand on the passenger seat to hold her body in place while I stood outside the back passenger door.

I hated when she asked that. I went along with this agreement feeling firmly that this was simply a setup out of necessity, and didn't think twice about who I was in the midst of this situation. She recited this same line after each encounter and I've never felt more like a whore than when those exact words rolled off her tongue. I felt like the other woman. A plaything to be used and thrown away as needed. There wasn't a shower hot enough to rid myself of the icky feeling settling across my skin.

However, the slight discomfort was worth avoiding packing up and living with my parents indefinitely.

I shrugged off the feeling, smiled and nodded yes, before closing the door and heading out of the empty parking deck.

I waited until Laura drove out of sight before crossing the street back onto campus.

While I walked, I set a reminder on my phone for next Friday at 5pm.

I can't wait for this year to be over.

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