Chapter 3: Saturday Tryst

Instructor Trepe completely misses our lunch appointment.

Something serious must have held her up. I try not to take it personally. I just hope that she's okay.

A couple of hours later, my dorm phone rings.

"It's Seifer."

"Are you alone?"

That unmistakable voice.

"Instructor…?"

"Yes, it's me."

"I'm not alone, but—" I move the receiver to Raijin's side of the room so that she can hear the magnitude of his snoring. "…I'd say we're safe to talk."

"Seifer, I'm so sorry that I stood you up!"

"It's fine," I say casually. "I'm sure it was for an important reason."

"One of my students got injured during Physical Conditioning! I had to take her to Dr. Kadowaki and fill out an incident report for Headmaster Cid. After that, he asked me to help him with an urgent task. I wasn't able to get away until now…"

"Hope your student's alright."

"She's alright. Thankfully it's just a sprained ankle, though it gave her quite a scare."

"It's tough being a new recruit, eh?"

"We were all there once."

"Yeah." I pause. "So…"

"So…" she repeats hesitantly.

"Reschedule?"

"I would love that!"

"Maybe we could have dinner tonight," I suggest boldly.

"I'm afraid I can't," she says with regret. "Xu's treating me to dinner."

"No problem. You're probably gonna be exhausted by nighttime. You've had a lot of stuff going on today…"

"Thank you for helping me to confront my fan club."

"That was all you, Instructor."

I can picture her smiling at the other end of the conversation.

"Would you be available to meet me later tonight at the Rinauld Bed & Breakfast?"

I nearly drop the phone in shock.

"Instructor," I say huskily. "Did you just invite me to a hotel?"

"Perhaps we could rendezvous outside of the B&B at 2100 hours?"

"I'll be there." My heart rate is spinning out of control. "But just to make sure we're on the same page, did our 'lunch' turn into an overnight event?"

She's silent for a few seconds. "If you'd like it to be," she answers softly. "Maybe bring a change of clothes just in case?"

"See you then."

Later in the evening, I tell Raijin that I'm going away on a business trip.

It turns out that Instructor Trepe has substantial hotel credit accrued in her SeeD account. She checks herself into a room as I wait for her in the lobby, which is really just a tiny waiting area stocked with board games and complimentary desserts.

I follow her down a lamplit hallway. As soon as the door is sealed behind us, we start seeking each other like the oversexed teenagers that we are, ramming into the wall and skidding across another wall and eventually stumbling onto the plush bed.

"Wait!"

I stop mid-kiss and reluctantly peel my lips off from hers.

"Would you mind if we…?"

"Anything you want," I say before she can even finish her sentence.

"I want to treasure you. I want to treasure our time together. And I'd prefer not to take our tryst past a certain point," she admits with flaming cheeks. "Now that I'm thinking this through, I didn't mean to give you the wrong impression by asking you to come to a hotel. I was just trying to think of a private place where we could talk at length."

I scooch back and lean against the headboard. "If all you wanna do is talk and cuddle, I'd be happy with that. Though we do have this nice hotel room all to ourselves."

"Oh, you're awfully persuasive!"

"I just like to see you cave in."

Instructor Trepe scooches toward me timidly. "Do you also like seeing me assertive?"

I wink at her. "Oh, I like seeing you in every manner possible."

She positions her hands over her chest with breathy movements.

Fuck…

Baby is about to strip for me!?

She tells me that she doesn't want to go all the way, yet she's making me chomp at the bit. I don't know how a man's supposed to deal with this coy act.

With virginal hands, she slowly unbuttons her blouse.

It isn't until all of the buttons are undone that she gets self-conscious, as if she's doubting the voice of her bedroom persona.

I take over the show by adroitly unhitching the front snap closure of her bra.

She gasps a little, perhaps surprised that it only took me one try. I swear that I'm not promiscuous—I've just read about different bra types in a men's magazine. The trick is to invert the motions when you're face-to-face with your woman.

The lace cups fall away from the center like theater curtains as I divest her of the garments.

Forget about mildly whetting my appetite. The sight of her naked chest drops me straight into the center of the sun.

The topless vision in my daydreams has been shamefully raunchy with exaggerated curves. The real woman before me belongs in a museum of fine art. She is a rare sculpture, far lovelier than my limited imagination could ever synthesize.

I thought that her golden kitty was anointed, but her breasts…

Her breasts are on another level of divinity.

They are exquisitely proportioned orbs of peaches-and-cream skin, her areolas dormant petals of the pinkest spring.

I reach out to meet them and—

—take a detour to her head to remove the ever-present hair clip. Her pretty locks tumble down in all of their feminine splendor.

"Your beauty is unparalleled."

She turns her gaze away with a skeptical smile. "I don't know about that."

If she doesn't believe me, then I need to prove to her just how desirable she really is.

I brush the pads of my thumbs over her nipples. In an instant, they pucker and pop out like happy little flowers. She purrs at the gentle stimulation: permission for me to keep going.

I waste no time massaging her breasts, my hands prowling and greedy for this holy erogenous zone.

She closes her eyes and whimpers with growing vulnerability, cambering her body into my hands in a way that makes me appreciate her litheness.

And even as I'm watching her, hearing her, and feeling her in the flesh…

Even now, I'm still fantasizing about her. I can't seem to turn off the kinky cinema of my mind.

I imagine those luscious breasts jerking up and down as she rides me with tropical thirst. I can hear her short, frantic moans dissipate above me. There is nothing separating us. Our bare bodies are completely one in that moment.

I imagine myself slyly pulling down the neckline of her dress in some smoky and secluded corner of a midnight lounge. I can feel her nipple harden as I dapple my tongue across it with torturous languor.

I imagine that she allows me to watch as she eagerly satisfies herself. I can see her alternate between kneading her breasts and rubbing her kitty between the finest silk sheets like the royalty that she is.

Back in the present, Instructor Trepe is trying to get rid of my shirt. I take a break from cosseting her soft mounds and lift my hands up to facilitate her first undressing of me.

"You're like a painting," she tells me blissfully. "Do you know why I asked if you were attracted to me? That day, in the DC Room?"

"No…" I continue to play with her nipples, memorizing their tightness and springiness. "Why?"

"I was trying to gauge the intensity of your feelings. I was curious to know…" She pauses to burnish her hands down my chest, down my stomach, down to the part of me that aches and throbs for her with every ounce of my masculinity. "To know if you had as much trouble as I, keeping your hands to yourself."

"I used to be damn near perfect at keeping my hands to myself until you came into my life. Now, I spend every waking and sleeping moment thinking about you."

She is shocked by my statement. "You do?"

I nod earnestly. "Say any word and I'll reveal my corresponding fantasy of you."

"Okay. Books?"

"It's well after curfew. We're having some dumb argument in the library, but you getting angry at me is the biggest turn-on, so I push you against a bookshelf and slide right inside of you 'cause you're wearing a skirt—and now that I know you don't wear panties, it makes the scene that much more realistic."

(And a book or two falls off the shelf with every thrust.)

She drops her mouth open in excitement, though I can tell that she's trying to disguise it as offense. "You're making this up on the spot!" she accuses me.

"I swear I'm not."

"And I do wear panties. It was an exception that day because I'd been experiencing a bit of skin irritation down there," she informs me with embarrassment.

"Sorry to hear that."

"Homework?"

"Oh, you're making this way too easy. Not doing my homework means detention. You decide to show up to my detention and punish me with—"

"Nevermind!" she says hastily. "I think it's best if you keep that one to yourself."

(Spanking. I was going to say spanking.)

I grin. "If you say so."

"Going on a mission?"

"Car sex all the way. Oh, and we only have a couple of minutes before we have to leave for the mission so…"

(Emergency lube.)

Her blushing deepens. "A regular weeknight…?"

I make a grand, sweeping gesture with my hands. "Roses, candles, and a bath with you."

(Nothing more, nothing less. My sweetest, purest vision.)

"Why is the last one different?" she asks, tilting her head.

"What, you think I'm not capable of romance?" I chuckle. "Guys need to express that side of themselves, too! Though I can only speak for myself…"

"I'm sorry." She looks truly apologetic. "I didn't mean to stereotype you!"

"It's alright." I tap her nose affectionately. "It's like saying girls can't possibly be as horny as guys because they're…I dunno, whatever the stereotype is. Because you have different body parts than us?"

"Something like that."

I growl and pull her closer. "I could kiss you forever."

"Then don't stop," she says in a plea.

Our mouths proceed to lave each other in a messy bath of tongue and teeth. Her aqueous lips have a hungry agenda and I'm here to fulfill her every need.

Our lower bodies, still clothed but hot for each other, are driven to desperation to finish what we couldn't finish before. We grind into each other and fall into a tempo that reveals the immediacy of our longing.

She cries out and crushes me with a hug. She trembles and gasps as her hips convulse.

I don't last much longer than her.

The room is silent but for the sound of our passionate breaths.

Sweat is clinging everywhere.

I'm prickling from the residual pleasure and I know that she is, too.

Instructor Trepe looks tired now. She's had a full day, and she's struggling to keep her eyes open.

I tuck my rosy-skinned lover into bed as she murmurs in sleepy gratitude.

I'm clearly too excited by this fantasy that's come to life, so I take a cold shower to shock the sexual urges out of my system. It's a good thing she suggested bringing a change of clothes because my pants have become unwearable.

Afterwards, I wrap a towel around my waist and putter around the room for a bit. I walk over to the window and peek behind the curtains to look out at the spring scenery of the Rinauld Coast. The view is charming with its historic cottages, twinkling lights, and sailboat silhouettes.

As much as I'm drawn to the sparks of our forbidden romance, I long for the day when Instructor Trepe and I don't have to hide away from the unforgiving world.

When I turn around, I notice her staring at me.

Flustered, she shuts her eyes and burrows her head into the pillow.

Something about catching her in the act of admiring me is extremely pleasing.

What I don't expect her to do next is open her eyes. This time, she makes her intentions plain with her yearning gaze.

I lie down on the bed next to her and pillow my arms under my head.

"Seifer," she says contemplatively. "Why don't you let people see the good in you?"

"Because when people see good, they expect good. And I don't wanna have to live up to anyone's expectations."

I turn to face Instructor Trepe, wondering what her response will be.

"That's what I like about you." Her eyes grow tender as she strokes my chest. "You're confident in who you are. You don't let the naysayers get to you. You create your own destiny."

I smile with a hint of bitterness. "You're right, Instructor. But the truth is that I crave recognition. Maybe I even want to be worshipped. I don't know what I'm gonna do if I fail the SeeD exam again."

"You're not going to fail," she says firmly.

"That would really ruin my career."

"Tell me about your career aspirations."

"Knighthood."

"Knighthood…?"

"Pledging myself to a lady. Devoting my everything to her. Protecting her till death."

She frowns a little. "It sounds like you expect to die."

"But isn't dying a necessary risk whether you're a Knight or a SeeD…?"

"What if you were to stay alive for a long, long time?"

"Can't be a soldier forever." I fight back a yawn. "Maybe retire early and start a nonprofit with Fuj and Raij. Who knows?"

"That sounds like a wonderful life…"

"Do you think we'll stand the test of time?" I ask suddenly.

"Don't…" The devastation on her face is evident. "Don't act like you'll be leaving me tomorrow!"

"I won't leave you!"

"Promise me," she whispers.

"I promise you this."

We take a quiet moment to bask in each others' warmth.

Soon, Instructor Trepe slips away to take a shower.

I begin to drift in and out of sleep to the sound of running water.

It's her turn to tuck me in. She kisses me goodnight.

The next morning, we share a continental breakfast at the B&B and sneak back into Garden at staggered times so as not to raise any suspicion.

We resume our roles of an Instructor and a student, a club Supervisor and a supervisee…

Two souls who can never become anything more.

Author's Notes: I borrowed some of the blocking (eye contact) and dialogue ("Why don't you let people see the good in you?") from The Vampire Diaries episode called "Heart of Darkness" (2012).