In Love With Shakespeare

Turning myself on

I downed the sweet liquid in one go, savoring the warmth at the back of my throat.

"So come on, do tell!" my professor continued. "I'd like to say you have to rush 'cos I have another student waiting, but you are actually my last of the day."

"Any plans for the evening?" I said, surprising myself with my own question. I remember running both hands through my hair and then stretching backwards on the sofa a little.

Professor East seemed to run her rich blue eyes down over my body and then back up to my face. I could feel myself blushing. Could she see my bra as well?

"No plans," she said, her voice a little lower and quieter than normal. "My husband has gone to London to see an old friend, so at the moment it's just you, me and this little bottle."

"You're not into threesomes, are you?"

Oops! I couldn't quite believe I'd said that! It was definitely the alcohol talking.

"Threesomes?!" she exclaimed, apparently genuinely shocked.

"You, me and a girl called Sherry," I quipped, and Professor East laughed happily.

This was fun. I mean this was really fun!

"I like a sense of humor," she said. Her right hand seemed to be toying with the button at the top of her own mauve blouse. "A lot of academics take themselves so seriously!"

"It's really important to let your hair down once in a while," I observed coolly. I pulled my eyes away from the swell of my professor's breasts and glanced at her high and tightly-structured bun of rich chestnut-brown hair.

I wasn't sure if she'd get the hint. But she did.

"Why not!" Professor East said suddenly, reaching up and pulling out a pin. Her hair just seemed to explode around her head, falling in bouncing semi-curls like a shampoo commercial.

"Wow!" I said spontaneously. "You have amazing hair."

"Thank-you dear. Yours is not so shabby either."

"You think we'd look good together?" I said with half a smile.

"You mean like arm in arm, out on the town?" she replied quickly.

"Why not?" I said. "Let the men stare!"

"Don't forget about the women!" my professor chided.

"There's no danger of that with you near," I shot back quickly, stretching upwards again so that my short white blouse kind of rode up my flat belly just a little.

I know, I'm bad aren't I? But as Sharon Stone nearly said in an old movie, "What are you going to do? Arrest me for flirting?"