Red Hot Obsessions (145 page)

I melted into his arms. If this was to be my punishment, then I would pocket that four hundred dollar pen every day of the week. Our mouths moved together in blissful harmony with every affectionate touch reciprocated. Despite his hardened exterior, Damien's kisses were incredibly gentle, just as I had hoped they would be. They ignited my body, setting off sparks in all of my sensitive areas.

Soon, he was pressing me back towards his desk, breaking away from the kiss only long enough to lift me up and place me on top of it. It took everything in me not to grin like an idiot. I couldn't believe this was actually happening. I was making out with my ridiculously sexy professor in his office on school grounds. It was the stuff pornos were made of.

Damien stepped between my legs, pressing his palms against my thighs to hike up my pencil skirt. A tremor of fear raced through me as my body allowed my mind to break away from the fantasy long enough to realize what was actually happening. This was no innocent high school make out session. He fully intended to have sex with me, right on his desk in his office, and I wasn't sure if I was ready for it.

Ever since the first day of school, I had been busy lusting over Damien Reed, but I never really thought about what would happen if I actually got him. It had always been a fantasy to me, innocent, and without consequences. Now, here we were. I was leaning back on his desk as he kissed my breasts over the top of my blouse and hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties. My brain was flashing all sorts of red warning lights, but my body was sending out the opposite signals. I wiggled my hips, allowing him to slip the panties over my bottom and pull them to the floor. The cool air kissed my warm parts, sending a fluttering of sensation through my clit. I wanted to stop, but I couldn't. It was like I was a slave to my own desire, to my want for him.

I laid back, breathless on his desk, watching as he straightened himself. The bulge in his pants was impressive, but the cock that flopped out whenever he unzipped them was even more so. It was absolutely gorgeous, smooth and thick and straight. Some men had curves in their cocks, or girth differences from the base to the tip. Not Damien Reed. God must have been having a really good day when he made this man. There wasn't a centimeter of him that didn't scream pure perfection. At least, every centimeter of him that I had seen.

The crinkling of a condom wrapper sounded almost deafening in the quiet of the office. My breathing provided the only other noise. Damien was cool and calm, barely breaking a sweat as he slid the condom over his meaty length.

I watched him, frozen in fear and lust. In a matter of minutes, this man who I barely knew would be taking my virginity. Was that what I really wanted? I craved his body beyond belief, but we had nothing together. Up until now, I had always been his student, just another sheep in his flock. Had he done this with other girls before? Probably. The thought was unsettling, ruining my mood.

By that time, Damien was on me again. He leaned in for a gentle kiss, melting the worries in my mind away. My cunt pulsed with desire. My legs almost involuntarily spread wider for him. All the while, my mind screamed no.

Damien grabbed the base of his erect member, guiding it toward my warm tunnel. I felt the head press against my pussy, the glans painfully trying to nudge its way inside. The only thing I had put inside of myself up to that point had been tampons and that pen, neither of which were anywhere near as big as a cock.

At the first shudder of searing pain, my breath hitched, and words tumbled from my open mouth. “I'm a virgin.”

Damien's body tensed. For a moment, he just stood there, staring down at our parts.

If Damien Reed had been any other man, the excitement of deflowering a young girl would have spurred him forward. He might have grinned, or asked if I was alright. He might have even thrust forward, bathing in the euphoria of my tight passageway squeezing his wanton manhood. But Damien Reed wasn't any other man.

Almost as quickly as it all began, he was stepping away from me. I watched in stunned silence as he unrolled the condom from his length and tossed it into the garbage bin in the corner of the room. Within seconds, his magnificent erection disappeared back into his jeans, and a thousand negative emotions raced through me at once. I knew what it all meant.

Reluctantly, I scooted off the edge of his desk and bent to pick up my panties, pulling them on and trying to hold back my tears at the same time. I had ruined it. For him. For me. For us. I should have just kept my mouth shut.

For as much as my brain had been screaming at me to stop prior to our potential coupling, it was now chastising me, telling me what an idiot I had been for saying anything at all. Damien Reed was the perfect man, and I had screwed up my chance to have him. Maybe he'd never be my boyfriend, but he was certainly worthy of my virginity. Wasn't he? I wasn't sure anymore. All I knew was that I was miserable.

Not knowing what else to do, I slowly made my way for the door. Everything in me wanted to break out in a run, to move as fast as my legs would carry me to my car, to get inside and drive to my mother's house and cry on her shoulder. I was an adult though, and I couldn't act like a child. I had to handle this with some type of poise, or Damien Reed would only dislike me more. Still, I couldn't let it end as it had. I needed to know why he stopped, why he had rejected me.

He was sitting at his desk, staring down at the pen when I made it to the door. With my hand already on the handle, I turned back and said, “Say something.”

He didn't even bother looking up at me. “This never happened. You're dismissed.”

Before I knew it, I was on the other side of the door, and tears were streaming down my face. How could he possibly be so cold? I had been delicate and vulnerable, and all he had done was reject and dismiss me. No, that wasn't a man I wanted to give myself to. It was the right thing that we didn't have sex. But why did it feel so wrong.

Despite my decision not to run back to my car, I found myself walking far faster than necessary, nearly tripping over my own shoes. Tears cascaded down my cheeks, and I sniffled from time to time, drawing attention from people still in the hallway. One woman asked if I was alright, but I just kept walking, pretending to ignore her.

In my car, I broke out into debilitating sobs. I couldn't even remember the last time I cried so hard, shaking until I worried I might have to call Tanya to drive me home. She couldn't know about this though. No one could know about this. If anyone ever found out, Damien could get in big trouble. Maybe he should get in trouble for it though, I thought bitterly. He had seduced a student, after all. Hadn't he? Hadn't he seduced me?

When the tremors subsided and my eyes were clear enough to see, I put my car in drive and pulled out of the parking lot. Even while I drove home, the occasional sob would roll through me. I couldn't figure out what hurt more, being rejected, knowing I had ruined my only chance with Damien, or knowing that I'd have to face him for the rest of the semester. Maybe I would switch to a different elective. I didn't give much of a crap about art anyway. The only reason I took Art Appreciation was because I thought it would be easier than any of my other elective options.

Although all I wanted to do was lay in bed and throw a pity party, I still had a lot of homework to get done, so I tried to push the events of the evening to the back of my mind while I got to work. Whenever a painful memory would slip through, I would feel my eyes begin to water. It was absolutely miserable, but there was nothing to be done about it but wait until the memories faded. They would, over time, I knew, but it was going to take a while, and seeing Damien Reed's face almost every day wasn't going to help.

I had half a mind not to go to Art Appreciation the next day, but my attendance was already off to a bad start, and I didn't want to get any further behind. With a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach, I stepped into class, same as always, and found my way to the back of the room, prepared for an hour of complete and total discontent. Every time Damien Reed would look at me, I would avoid his gaze. Of course, he played like nothing had happened, conducting class with the same confidence as always. I, on the other hand, could think of nothing other than our steamy encounter in his office. The memory sent warm yearnings to my pussy, but cold stabbings to my heart.

The minutes ticked by painfully slow, as if even the clock thought it was fun to torture me. Lecture was long and boring, and I couldn't be bothered to concentrate, so I doodled on a piece of paper for most of the class. Thankfully, Damien didn't call on m. I was already pissed enough at him as it was, though I still wasn't sure why. It was easier to blame everything on him, even though none of this would have happened if I hadn't of stolen his pen.

Finally, class was over. I dragged myself out of my desk and headed toward the door. Damien intercepted my leaving though, gently grabbing me by the shoulder and pulling me off to the side of the room.

“I want to see you after class again,” he told me, his eyes betraying no emotion.

“What did I do this time?” I asked.

“I want to talk to you about your grades.”

You've got to be kidding me. He rejects me, and now he's going to badger me about my grades.
Perhaps a small part of me had hoped that he would want to discuss the previous day. That was wishful thinking. His only motive was to rub salt in my wounds—to make me feel worse than I already did.

“Fine,” I said, hoping it didn't sound bitchy as I turned from him to head out the door. I would definitely need to drop Art Appreciation. There was no point in taking the class if things were going to continue to spiral downward.

Surprisingly, I was able to put Damien Reed out of my mind for the rest of the day. My emotions were completely numb towards the situation, my brain going into repair mode. Whatever happened next, it didn't matter. I couldn't emotionally handle being around him every day. I knew that now. No matter which direction this discussion went in, I would likely be dropping the class by the end of the week.

When my last class was over, I headed back to Art Appreciation with purposeful steps.
He can't hurt you again
, was the mantra I repeated inside my head. While I wasn't sure if it was true, I forced myself to believe it, putting up my emotional defenses so that I didn't randomly start crying in the middle of our discussion.

When I stepped into Damien Reed's office, I held my head high, displaying as much fake confidence as I could muster. I closed the door and took a seat before he even had a chance to tell me to, which I'm certain he would have.

“You wanted to speak to me about my grades?” I said, preparing myself for the worst.

“No.” He shook his head. “That was just a front to get you here so we could talk.”

“Talk about what?” I crossed one leg over the other, smoothing down the front of my skirt.

He hesitated, as if he wasn't sure how to begin. “I offer a special after school class on sex education.”

“Mister Reed,” I said, purposely trying to get under his skin. “I have a full load of coursework as it is. I don't have time to take on another class, especially one as unnecessary as sex ed.”

“It's . . . not that kind of class.” His brown eyes darkened, and there was a flash of uncertainty behind them.

Now my interest was piqued. Was this redemption? Was he actually offering me more than meets the eye? Despite how angry I was with him, there was an unmistakable stirring in my loins at the thought. I squeezed my thighs together, trying to suppress it. My professional mannerisms were fading, and I had to fight to keep the act up and seem disinterested.

“Well, what kind of class is it then?”

“It's not the type of class I typically offer to my college students. It's a very intimate class, delving into sexual nature and fantasy.”

The way he said it made all the sensitive areas in my body light up like Christmas lights. Just the mention of the word 'fantasy' caused my nipples to begin to perk. I sure had plenty of fantasies about Damien Reed, and this sounded like a good way to explore them further.

“If you don't offer it to your college students, then why are you offering it to me?”

“You seem like a very sensual woman. I thought you might be able to benefit from it.”

My heart fluttered in my chest.
He sees me as a . . . sensual woman.
It took everything in me to suppress a lecherous grin.

Damien pulled a folded up piece of paper from his desk drawer and handed it to me. “We would meet in the afternoons on Saturday and Sunday for about an hour. All the sessions are one-on-one, so you don't have to worry about feeling uncomfortable. You don't need to give me your decision now. If you're interested, turn that paper in to me before the end of the week, and I'll call you to give you my address, so we can start your lessons this upcoming weekend. If you're not interested, you can simply throw that questionnaire away and pretend I never said anything.

“Please don't open that paper until you get home. There's nothing incriminating on it, but I would prefer you handle it with discretion.”

“How much would the class cost?” I asked.

“I'll take you on pro bono.” He smiled.

The paper burned a hole in my backpack all the way home. I desperately wanted to open it as soon as I got in my car, but decided to respect Damien's wishes. By the time I pulled into my father's driveway, I couldn't wait any longer. I dug the piece of paper out and flipped it open to look at the contents. Down the front was a list of questions, all sexual in nature.

Ignoring all other homework, I went to work answering the questionnaire as soon as I got inside. My responses to the questions were as follows:

1. How many men have you had sex with?

None.

2. Place a check mark next to the things you have experience with:

ñ
Vaginal intercourse __

ñ
Anal intercourse __

ñ
Intercourse with a same sex partner __