Another day of class that you were looking forward to being over. Not to go home but to stay after class.
-Hey, girls, you can go before me. I will stay to ask the Professor some questions about the homework. – You say, and your friends glance at each other with a sarcastic grin on their faces.
-Homework, yeah. Come on. We know you're trying to get him alone to flirt with him. You eat him out with your eyes in every class. – Your friend says, and you shrug.
-Isn't he like pushing his forties or something? – The other friend says.
-No, are you crazy? I think he must be in his early thirties. – The other says. – In any way, you will get in trouble if you get involved with a professor.
-Some things in life are worth the risk. – You joke, and your friends roll their eyes. – See you tomorrow, girls!
You wave and wink at them, slowly walking to Johnny's desk. The last students were just leaving the classroom, while he was still checking something on the computer. The sound of steps drew his attention. Noticing your presence, he held his breath.
-Hi, prof. I know the class is over, but I wanted to ask some questions about the activity we did today. Do you still have time? – You ask with a gentle voice and a smile. An innocent tone that is almost ironic.
He knows very well that you're not there to clear up any doubt. He knows it just by your gaze. The one you show him every time he glances at you during class, staring at him head to toe, pausing at specific parts that would make him lose the track of his discourse as he cleaned his throat.
You wait for his answer holding a book in front of your torso, like a good student would. His eyes seem to investigate you, and his quick glance around the classroom and the door showed clearly how he was not that professional like your friend told you so.
-Yeah. I have time. What are your questions? – He asks, gulping as his gaze runs away from yours.
A smirk grows on your face, feeling your belly curling with all this roleplay. You walk around the table, stopping beside his chair, placing the book in front of him. Bending over, you point with your finger at a question with a total unnecessary proximity. Your shoulders touched his as you turned your face.
-I didn't get this one. Can you explain it to me? – Your voice was like a drug to his ears. Your face was just a few inches away from his, and your perfume filled his nostrils. His eyes narrowed, running down your face in silence. – So? Can you? – You say, and he breathes out.
-Sure thing. – He says, turning to the book to see what damn question you were asking about. – This one... You have a compost with negative charge, right? So, it won't pass the membrane perfectly.
-Yes...? – You place a hand on his shoulder, slightly caressing the fabric of his black bottom-up shirt.
-And then... If you have another compost that... Uhm... You know... What we said before... - He stutters, and you chuckle. He is clearly so nervous, and that makes everything even funnier.
-Sorry, professor. I'm not hearing you at all. – You say, standing up straight. – Maybe if I get closer... - Pushing his chair away from the table, you sit on his lap, adjusting yourself on his legs.
Johnny widens his eyes as his hands automatically hold on your waist. Your eyes meet his, and his breathing gets heavier.
-You're just playing around with me, aren't you? Come on. Get up. – Johnny says with a side grin, tapping your waist, but you point at the book.
-Explain to me first. Or you can't do it? – You smirk, arching an eyebrow, and Johnny sighs.
He knows he is in a game he couldn't be playing. A dangerous game that could turn out into trouble, but that is so tempting at the same time.
His hand pulls you closer by the waist, resting on your hips. Your skin crawled as your torso touched his. His chin lays on your shoulder as he leans ahead to read the book. You bite your bottom lip, feeling him so close and finally giving in after so many exchanged gazes.
He continues to explain, with a deep voice next to your ear, now and then caressing your leg, spread out on his lap as if you always did this.
-And then, when you apply the formula, you get the result of-
-43,762 milligrams. – You interrupt him, making him look at your eyes. – Sorry, professor. Actually, I knew how to do it since the beginning. – You joke with a serious expression, running your eyes by his face, just a few inches from you. Johnny chuckles, glancing at your lips.
-I know. You're the best of the class in this subject after all. – He jokes back, and you smile.
-That's cause it's the subject from my favorite professor.
Silence fills the classroom. Your hand flies to the side of his head, entering with your fingers between the strand of his hair, going to his nape and scratching his skin. Johnny's face drops in concentration, licking his lips as giving you hints that he had gotten tired of the act.
If he did not want to go for it, he should have moved you away the moment you sat down, but apparently, he is not strong as he thought he was. For sure, you were a few years younger, but old enough to make him out of his mind and unemployed, but now it's impossible to go back, and he also doesn't want to.
Your faces come closer. Your warm breath hits his lips in expectation. Heart beating loudly and fast. But then... You hear a knock on the door. You gasp, standing up in adrenaline so fast that you got impressed by it yourself, quickly adjusting your skirt.
-Come in. – Johnny's voice came out like a grunt, letting escape a bit of his annoyance. An old man opens the door with a broom in hand.
-Oh. My apologies for interrupting. I must clean the classroom, but I can come back later. – The janitor says, looking at you two with a side eye.
-There's no need. I'm leaving- - You started to say, but you feel Johnny's hand sliding between your legs, at knee height, behind the desk so the man couldn't see it, stopping you from walking away.
-We're not done yet. – He says, pulling his hand back. You gulp in nervousness, feeling your legs trembling from the last touch.
The old man nods, leaving and closing the door. Johnny's eyes come back to you who is standing beside him.
-Woah. We almost got caught. – You say, fanning yourself, and Johnny chuckles, standing up.
-We were just discussing exercises. We weren't doing anything, right? – He says, walking closer. You nod, staring at his sharp dark eyes which are following your figure like a predator who had spotted his prey. – Yet.
His lips crashed into yours in hunger. You gasp, immediately losing your breath as his body pushes you against his desk. Your arms hug his neck as your back arches, melting at the touch of his hands on your hips, gripping on your lower back.
He seems – or better saying, feels – experienced just by how he kisses. Pecking, licking, biting, teasing. The experience of an older guy who, however, doesn't do something like that with his students often (or maybe never). He has no flaws on his reputation and career, but you wouldn't mind being one of them. His beauty is popular, of course, known as the handsome chemistry professor who is so respectful to his students. Little did you know he could be very disrespectful if you asked nicely.
You didn't even see the moment you ended up sitting on his desk with him between your legs, caressing the outside of your thighs. You only realized it when he pulled away with his face covered in lipstick stains and a mess in his hair. Completely out of breath.
-Now we have done something to get blamed for. – He jokes, bending over to get his cellphone next to the computer. He checks himself on the screen, still with a hand resting on your thigh, while you still try to recover from the last 5 minutes that felt like an eternity. An eternity in Heaven. – Urgh... You did it on purpose, right? Next time, don't put lipstick on. – He says, and you smirk.
-Next time? I think you enjoyed it quite a lot then. That sounds good. – You tease him, rubbing knee on the side of his body, making Johnny chuckle.
-Only if you can keep a secret, student.
