Not My Type

Stubborn B*tch

January 10th, 2019

Roseanne was fucked.

Roseanne knew her day was going to be hell the minute Kuma barged in her room and onto her bed half an hour before her alarm went off, with a lacey hot pink bra in his little mouth. It wasn't her bra.

Roseanne knew something was up with her when she spilled her matcha latte on her favourite pearl cream silk blouse in her car on the way to campus, and had to change into a simple-yet-classy satin black long sleeve top.

Roseanne knew the universe was setting her up for divine mockery when a knock on her office door followed by a cheery 'ehee' let her know who was on the other side of it.

Roseanne definitely knew she shouldn't have taken her on her desk, against the wall, on the floor nor even on her swivel chair like a circus acrobatics act, but she couldn't help it when her animal instincts came out.

And Roseanne also knew she needed to stop daydreaming and having these ridiculous sexual fantasies when she was about to teach a class on the difference between a sociopath and a psychopath as per local legislation.

Nine days without sex and she was going crazy.

Yes, Roseanne was fucked.

And no, not in the good way.

Ever since that - one would argue, irrational - argument in her office, Roseanne hadn't had any physical contact with Lisa. She had been ignoring her texts on the dating app and avoiding at all costs any situation in which they'd have to be left alone, because she knew - oh she damn knew she wouldn't be able to control herself. But she had to be professional. Lord knows out of the two of them, Lisa was never going to be considerate of her situation, so she had to be the responsible adult and act sensible upon any sort of temptation that might arise at any given moment.

It's not that she didn't want her. Oh God she wanted her so badly; she was craving her long slender fingers deep within her - what was she saying? Right.

Roseanne was keeping away from the girl because a) she didn't like being challenged, especially not by a dimwit like the blonde bitch, b) she didn't want to lose her job, and c) even if she was sure they could keep the same casual and private arrangement, Roseanne was too damn stubborn and proud to ask Lisa for sex, knowing damn well the girl wanted her cornered.

And by all means was the long-legged stick insect-looking ass bitch good at tantalizing her.

Too good, actually.

Roseanne knew the class would be hell when Lisa showed up the second day wearing a very tight almost see through black and white striped crop-top and a pair of navy blue joggers that accentuated her slim frame perfectly, and where she could appreciate just a small glimpse of her toned abs. She had always wondered how could such a scrawny girl be so fit at the same time, but she sure as hell wasn't complaining.

Roseanne knew something was up when she saw Lisa sitting too close to that other student - what was her name again? Park Soo-whatever-the-fuck. They seemed to be hitting it off pretty well and she couldn't help but wonder if that was another one of Lisa's stupid attempts to get a rise out of her. She could only groan at how childish that stupid girl could be.

Roseanne knew the universe was setting her up for long torturous hours when Lisa showed up late to class one day and she was covered in sweat like she had ran there or something. Her hair was disheveled, her clothes were messy and the red bite marks just bellow her left ear were more than enough proof of what she had been up to prior to her class. And Roseanne didn't like it.

And Roseanne also knew she had been rambling on and on about sociopaths, not noticing that the clock was still ticking and as much as she'd like it to, the universe didn't revolve around her and she probably should shut up before she stopped making any sense, and dismiss the class cause it was already five minutes past her time.