Victoria Caldwell wasn't expecting for her world to turn upside down after signing up for Mr. Brando's class. He seemed like the average professor, the only thing standing out being his good looks. After a heated affair arises between student & teac...
*this chapter is intense for no reason. Reader discretion is advised lol
Upstairs, I could tell he still had a lot on his mind. I imagined us kissing deeply while I fumbled for my keys. Instead, he followed me up the steps and calmly into my apartment.
"I don't own a couch, but I do have this seat." I told him, pulling over an old wooden chair. My bed was in the opposite corner of the room, my kitchen was behind him.
"I remember the days when I lived in a place like this." Marlon looked up at my leaky ceiling. "It's been a while."
"Your big break allowed for you to be cooped up in your extravagant apartment?" I teased as I shrugged off my coat. Then I went across the room to sit on the mattress on the floor I referred to as a bed.
"No..." Marlon rose a brow. He still wore his glasses as if he was at class. "I was lucky enough to have help from a friend."
There was a silence, so I decided to throw in a joke.
"A lady friend?" I grinned at him, but he didn't find it amusing. He sexily scowled, then cleared his throat.
I looked down at my lap as I squatted on that bed. Then, I finally decided to get to the point. "Mr. Brando, I never imagined you to be this way. I thought you'd get to it right away."
"If you were anyone else, you would've already been shouting my name." He answered bluntly. I watched as he took off his glasses and tucked them into the breast pocket of his jacket. Then, he lit a cigarette. "Somehow I'm reluctant about you. There's something about you, Peach."
"Peach?" I smiled then stood up. I began striding toward him in the most seductive posture I could fester up. "I have a nickname now?"
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Once I was standing in front of him while he sat in that chair, he lifted his hands to my hips. I placed my hands on his shoulders, my heart was beating out of my chest.
"There's a tenderness to you, an innocence I can't explain." He said, his hand caressing my hip. He'd expand the palm of his hand around it, then squeeze and rub it through the fabric of my dress. "I don't know if you can handle me."
Not only was this my professor, but this was Marlon Brando. The pressure in that moment was like no other. "Mr. Brando, I want you so badly, you don't understand."
"If we do this, Peach..." He said, his eyes locking on the string that laced the front of my sheath dress closed. "Then you have to promise to keep it confidential."
With one swift tug to the string on the front of my dress, it opened, exposing a slither of my body to his delight.
"I promise, Mr. Brando." I practically begged him. All I wanted was for him to finally do what I dreamt about. "Now, please..."
I began to tug at my dress, pulling the laced opening wider. He held my wrists still, then stared at the skin of my stomach and between my breasts.
