Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Any similarities to the original characters or themes from the books or media franchise are used here for entertainment purposes only. All original elements to this story are mine. Please don't claim it for your own. Stealing ain't cool, m'kay?
Chapter 3. Eric Yorkie
"I don't know," I said as I walked with Angela and Ben down the hall toward our English Lit class. "I like Professor Swan. I think she's quite fair." Of course, it helped that she was beautiful and smart. Man, was she smart.
Angela and Ben continued to talk about the Hamlet essay Professor Swan had assigned us Monday and started discussing getting together for a study session to flesh out the details.
"Eric, do you want in on this?" Ben asked, elbowing my arm as we turned into Professor Swan's lecture room.
"Um, yeah. Do you guys want to meet at the library at the end of the day?" I asked as we climbed the stairs to find our usual seats that remained unclaimed.
Angela hemmed and hawed for a minute as she set her books on her small desk. "I think that should be fine. Just let me talk to Jess and see if she and Mike want to join us. I know she said last week that she could use a little more study time."
I nodded as Angela spoke and opened my text to the page where we had last left off when Mike and Jessica walked into the room and climbed the stairs looking extremely happy.
"Hey guys!" Jess greeted exultantly. "How was your night?"
"Pretty good," Ben replied with a smirk. "And yours? You both seem awfully...chipper this morning." He shot me a look, and I hated to admit that it
took me entirely too long to fully grasp what his eyes seemed to be communicating.
"Great," Jess said wistfully as she looked back at Mike, who seemed attached to her hip as he nuzzled her neck.
"All right," a commanding female voice boomed through the lecture hall. "Everyone find their seats so we can begin. Newton, Stanley, stop blocking the aisle and get to your spots so we can begin." Professor Swan strolled confidently into the room, her dark grey skirt tightly clinging to her lower-half, and keeping her eyes on her desk as she spoke to Mike and Jessica.
"Y...yes Professor," Jessica stammered as she moved up one level to take her seat behind me, Mike hot on her tail.
A hush fell over the crowd as the professor stood before her desk, lightly perching herself on the front of it and crossing her arms across her red-bloused torso. She surveyed the room through narrowed eyes, and all that could be heard was the nervous shuffling of a few students in their seats.
As soon as she seemed pleased with the lack of, well, anything, she smiled and pushed herself off her desk before beginning her lecture. I took notes, knowing I would need them in order to complete the essay she intended for us to write, as she spoke. The way she took control over such a large group—standing before us so confidently, lecturing on the meaning behind Shakespeare's Hamlet—man! What a turn-on that was to me.
"Remember to include in your essays what you all learned today," she instructed, dismissing us as the class ended and rifling through her papers in preparation for her next class.
"So, what did you guys think?" I asked, turning to my friends.
Angela shrugged as she looked up at me shyly. "It was good. I think I gathered a lot of useful information that I'd love to further explore before starting my essay."
I turned to Jess and Mike. "Hey, we're thinking of getting together to work on our essays after our last classes. Did you guys want to join us?"
Mike and Jessica exchanged a glance before looking back at me and nodding. "Yeah, I think that would be—"
"Mr. Yorkie?"
I turned toward the sound of my name to see Professor Swan standing behind her desk as she looked down at her lesson plan. "Could you spare a moment?"
I looked back at my friends and watched Jess and Mike exchange a small smirk before waving. "We'll see you later. Library?" Jessica confirmed, her tone raising an octave, causing me to be suspicious of her, as Mike tugged her by the hand toward the door.
"Yeah, I'll catch up with you guys later," I promised before walking over to Professor Swan's desk.
With a smile, she held out a paper and I felt my pride swell as I looked at the red A-plus that graced the top of the page. "You should be proud of that paper, Mr. Yorkie. Your work was incredibly detailed, proving your time was well-spent."
"Thank you, Professor," I said modestly. "I'm glad you took notice."
"How could I not?" she asked incredulously. "Do you have class right now?"
"No, ma'am, I was planning to start researching this Hamlet assignment before my friends and I get together tonight," I informed her, hoping she'd see just how hard I intended to work to keep my GPA as flawless as possible.
"I love hearing that," she said softly, her voice clearly proving the truth behind her words. "Listen, I'd love to talk to you about the possibility of organizing some kind of study group for this course overall. A number of students, and not only from this class, are having issues. And I hate being seen as a failure." She took a step forward and placed a hand on my forearm, causing my head to drop as I stared in shock at our connection. "You're one of my brightest students, Eric, and I'd love for you to lead this group to success. I believe you can do it."
I continued to gawk at her hand on my bare arm, unable to really focus on the fact that she wanted me to lead a study group. In high school, I hadn't had many girlfriends; I was far too busy focusing on my studies, so the feelings that were moving through my body were unexpected. I'd experienced lust and desire before; I was a pubescent boy at one time, after all. But the feelings I was having for my English Professor? They seemed wrong...which only excited me more.
Finally realizing she was waiting for an answer, I swallowed and nodded my affirmation. "I'd love to. When did you want to talk?"
The professor withdrew her hand, my bare arm immediately feeling chilly on the spot her warm flesh had touched mine. "I have classes for the rest of the day. Why don't you stop by before your study session and we'll start planning?"
"Sounds great!" I exclaimed. "Thank you so much for this wonderful opportunity, Professor. I won't let you down." Upon seeing her smile and nod, I exited the room and headed for the library so I could begin to prepare for my essay. I sat in the quiet sanctity of the library—my safe haven for many years—and began to gather my research. By the time I was to head to my next class, I had a pretty decent list of the books I would need in order to begin my paper.
The end of the day came pretty quickly, and I found myself anxious throughout my last few classes to get back to Professor Swan and begin putting together a study group. When I arrived at the classroom, I found Professor Swan sitting in her desk chair, legs and arms crossed as she stared up at the man who sat perched on the edge of her desk. They spoke in hushed tones as I stood by the door, so as not to interrupt.
Professor Swan noticed me and her facial expression warmed as she smiled and stood up. "Mr. Yorkie! Please, come in."
As I entered the room, the man stood and turned to face me. It was Dean Cullen, and he didn't look entirely happy with my interruption. "Mr. Yorkie. Miss Swan, here, tells me you're going to lead a study group for her English Lit class?"
"Yes sir," I concurred confidently, once again feeling nothing but pride that she had chosen me.
The Dean offered me a smile before holding out his hand to me. I returned the gesture to shake his hand firmly. "Go easy on him, Isabella," he instructed her, releasing his hold on me before heading through the door.
"Please, close the door and come on in," Professor Swan instructed as she waited for me to join her. "I am just so thrilled you agreed to help me out with this."
"I'm just honoured you'd even consider me, Professor," I told her honestly.
She indicated toward her desk chair for me to have a seat as she removed the clip from her hair, allowing it to fall free and wavy around her shoulders. "Please, make yourself comfortable so I can show you what I had in mind," she suggested softly.
After sitting down and pulling myself to the desk, I began to look over the very detailed outline she had set up for me. As I read it over, I was suddenly very aware of her presence behind me. My breathing shuddered when she reached forward and started explaining her plans. I nodded my agreement and turned to look at her, only to find her facing me, our lips mere inches apart.
Before I could react, she closed the gap between us, kissing me hard. While I knew what we were doing was wrong, I simply couldn't pull myself away from her. She could—and did—but only for the briefest moment so she could roughly roll the chair from the desk and hike her skirt up her milky thighs in order to straddle me. Her lips crashed against mine again, and my hands ensnared her hips as she began to push against my growing erection.
Her fingers worked their way down my body until they reached my waist. She looped them beneath the hemline and started lifting. Our lips were only parted for a second as she tossed it aside, and she continued to grind against me. I grunted into her mouth when the zipper started to press painfully into the head of my arousal. "Ugh, Professor, we can't," I mumbled into her mouth hoarsely.
Professor Swan pulled back, a sly smile on her face as she bit her swollen lower lip while raising her hands to her breasts and starting to undo her crimson blouse. With every button I saw more and more of her creamy flesh and black lace bra. "Oh, I don't know," she whispered in a raspy voice. "Everything seems to be in working order." She pushed against me again, and I hissed in part pain and part pleasure as the zipper continued to hurt me.
The professor dropped her eyes between us, her lips parting in realization. "Oh, dear. How careless of me," she purred, sliding off my lap until she knelt before me. Her hands were firm upon the tops of my thighs as she moved them up, her thumbs grazing my arousal which caused me to shudder and my eyes to roll back in my head.
"Is this okay?" she asked as her fingers looped into the waist of my pants, working my button and zipper free.
While numerous reasons as to why we shouldn't continue down the slippery slope we were on ran through my mind, I couldn't seem to voice them. I looked down at her as she rested between my knees, awaiting my reply. My head neither nodded nor shook; instead it kind of went around in a circle as I groaned and my eyes rolled back.
Professor Swan took my uncertain response as a sign to proceed. And I was glad she did. She looped her hand into my boxers and worked my stiff length free, working it to its base as I thrust instinctually into her hand. "Good?" she purred, her face getting closer and closer to my lap.
"Uh-yeah," I moaned as she stroked me once more. The feel of her soft hands wrapped around me, pleasuring me, was unbelievable. I wasn't the most experienced person sexually, and I feared that she would know. While I knew this to be wrong, it also felt so good, and the horny nineteen-year-old in me couldn't allow her to stop as she licked her lips and wrapped them around my...
"Ooooh," I moaned as her mouth sheathed me, working me up and down slowly, causing a build-up of pressure inside me that was bubbling at the surface, just waiting to explode. "Oh, God. So good..."
I could feel my release building as her head continued to bob up-and-down in my lap, every move upward causing her tongue to lick the length. She pulled off of me with a low "pop" that seemed to echo erotically through the empty lecture room, and when she looked up at me with her plump, pink lips smiling, my inner-sex fiend took control of my body. I stood quickly, pulling her with me as I pushed her against her desk and attacked her neck with my mouth. With her hands now fisting my hair, she hitched her right leg up around my waist and I ground against her, causing her to moan deliciously low in my ear.
Her left hand left the nape of my neck and I heard her rifling around on—or in—her desk for something. I felt her head shift to the left and I grew curious. Turning to see what she was doing, I was met with a very thankful look when she held up the square foil packet in front of me. After placing it gently between her teeth, she pushed my pants and boxers off the rest of the way before removing her black lace thong and discarding it to the floor.
She removed the condom packet from her teeth and tore it open before placing it at the tip and rolling it down my length at an excruciatingly slow pace. Not a word was spoken as she brought her leg back up around my waist until I rested right at the apex of her thighs, where I could feel the heat radiating from her.
"Professor...?"
"Fuck me, Mr. Yorkie. The only thing I want to hear right now, are the sounds of our screams echoing through the entire room. Fuck. Me," she demanded, shifting her hips forward as she braced herself on the edge of her desk.
As soon as I felt the warm, wet heat of her wrap around the tip of my shaft, I plunged into her, burying myself in her completely. She moaned loudly as we continued to push against each other manically. The look in her eyes seemed almost triumphant as we moved together beneath the fluorescent lighting of the room, and it only faded slightly as her mouth parted in what I assumed were the beginning waves of her climax. Wanting to reciprocate the way she was making me feel, I pushed harder, working toward my own release.
Professor Swan gripped me around my neck tightly and buried her face into my shoulder as I grunted and groaned through my orgasm. She didn't utter a sound, her body shuddering with her own. When she sat up, I noticed there was a light sheen of sweat upon her brow, and we remained in the same position for a few minutes, trying to come down from our post-orgasmic high.
"If you weren't already an A-student, I'd feel compelled to offer you one for that performance, alone," Professor Swan teased, her fingers travelling up to fidget with my black hair.
I was still clouded in a sex-with-my-English-professor haze, and could barely comprehend what was going on around me until she brought her left hand up and looked at the time on her watch and tsk'd. "That's a shame. I was having fun," she said with a mock-pout as I looked down and realized it was almost time for my study session.
After disjoining our bodies, I removed the condom and discarded it before pulling my pants back up. As I readjusted my clothing, I couldn't help but watch as she smoothed her skirt over her thighs. I was still having issues registering everything that had happened, but knew I should address it.
"Professor?"
She turned to me with a knowing smile. "Relax, Mr. Yorkie. No one needs to know what transpired here today."
I scratched the back of my head. "That's just it...what did happen here?"
With an arched eyebrow and a smirk she replied, "We took care of each other's needs. Nothing more. Nothing less. I still want you to lead the study group, by the way. You're right for the job. I'll organize one for tomorrow night."
I stood as still as a statue and nodded my head to let her know I was still willing. She started toward me, stopping when she reached my side and leaned forward to whisper in my ear. "Thanks for the good time. I'll see you in class tomorrow." All I heard after that was the soft click of her heels as she left the room, and I was left alone with my thoughts.
Or, more accurately one thought.
I just had sex with Professor Swan.