Forbidden Encounter

by Maeve Williams

  “I can’t think straight with this pressing into me.” I reached down and squeezed his dick lightly. I smiled cheekily as he stifled a groan.

  “Little minx. You play dirty. And now I can’t think with you stroking me like that.”

  “Let’s do something about it.”

  He pressed into me one last time, then pulled away completely. He walked around to his desk and took a seat.

  “I wish we could. But it’s the middle of the week. Anyone is liable to overhear us. That’s a chance we can’t take.” He gestured for me to take a seat. I picked up my bag and did as instructed. As I settled into the chair I jumped, hearing a loud knock on the door.

  “Enter!”

  The door swung open and a student looked in. “Hi, Professor Buckley. I’m so sorry to interrupt but could I have a quick word with you, please?”

  “Give me a second, Ellis. I need to finish up here.” The door closed behind the young man. B.B.’s voice dropped to a mere whisper.

  “See what I mean?”

  I nodded in agreement.

  “I think you should go. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Okay.” I stood and shouldered my bag. He came around to open the door. Just before he did, he dropped his head, giving me a quick peck on the lips. He nuzzled my nose with his.

  “I couldn’t resist. We’ll talk later. Now look reprimanded.”

  He pulled the door open and I stepped out. I schooled myself to look like a child who had just been punished.

  “…And the next time you walk out of my class and walk back in without permission, you may consider your time in my class at an end. Understood?”

  I looked at my feet as Ellis shuffled past me. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good.” He closed the door behind me. I kept my eyes on my feet as I shuffled along. My heart was light. B.B. wanted to be in a relationship with me. As I left the main building, I raised my face to the warmth of the evening sun. B.B. wanted to be with me.

  I floated home. Thankfully, Carey was not there yet. I stripped and had a quick shower, then put on an oversized t-shirt and got dinner started. I had just turned off the oven when I heard my phone chime.

  Hey. Are you home yet?

  My fingers flew over the keypad. Home, showered, finished with the cooking, and waiting to hear from you.

  I’m still in the office. Texting may be safer. This is a conversation we don’t want to be overheard. I wish I could see you right now.

  I wish I could have stayed with you. I added a droopy-faced emoji.

  I would see you right now, but that run-in with Carey on Saturday morning has had me on edge. There must be a way to be with you.

  We have to figure it out. I want to be with you, too, so we have to be very careful. If we get caught, we could both risk academic punishment. I would be kicked out, and you would lose your job. I remembered the information Carey had shared with me on Saturday.

  Can I ask you something?

  Anything.

  Are you the same Benjamin ‘B.B.’ Buckley who created B-Squared?

  There was a pause. Then he started typing. I am.

  Okay.

  Why did you ask?

  Carey told me she had looked you up on the Internet. So how come you’re a college professor?

  I’ll tell you about that another time. When and how can I see you off campus, Ari?

  I took a deep breath. I don’t know, B.B. The only logical place is here. You would have to steel yourself to run into Carey now and then.

  How about you spend the weekend at my place instead?

  That’s an idea. How would I get into your car to get there? How would you drop me back without us being seen?

  Can you drive?

  Is the sun hot?

  If I rented you a car and gave you directions, would you come and spend the weekend at my house? I live alone, and my helper comes in only twice a week.

  I hesitated before responding. One night was one thing. But an entire weekend. How would I explain my absence to Carey without her becoming suspicious and figuring out what I was doing? Also, was I serious about going in this direction with B.B.? If we spent the weekend together we’d obviously have deliberately chosen to be in a secret relationship. Was I ready to take that step? The phone buzzed in my hand.

  Ari? Are you there?

  Yes.

  Well?

  Yes. I’ll spend the weekend with you.

  He sent an emoji with a wide grin and stars in its eyes. I sent back a smile of my own.

  I’ll sort out the car and get the key to you somehow. I can’t wait to see you Friday evening, baby.

  Me either. I attached a kissing emoji and giggled when he sent one back. I clasped the phone to my chest and lay looking at the ceiling, feeling a goofy grin spreading across my face. Friday could not come soon enough.

  Chapter 10

  Ariana

  “Remember I won’t be here for the weekend, Carey.”

  “Lucky you. Who would have thought that voluntary work could be so lucrative? I almost want to come with you.”

  “No!” I blurted out sharply. Carey looked at me curiously. I stammered nervously.

  “I...I mean, it’s only a single invitation. Maybe this time I can put in a word and sign you up as well for the next time...”

  Carey held up her hand, “No worries. I probably wouldn’t last a day climbing around in a grubby building anyway. It’s cool how they rented you a car to get there and back, though.”

  “Yeah. Uber cool.” I picked up my backpack and overnight bag. “Now, don’t tear the apartment up. Be good. No parties while I’m gone, young lady.” With that I was out the door before she could dig further. I had kept the information neutral and vague, though I’d gone online to find an organization name and activity to substantiate my story should she choose to investigate.

  Usually on a Friday morning we went to campus together. Her lecturer had canceled on them, so she had the entire day off.

  I made my way to the parking garage and found the small black Subaru Impreza I had picked up from the rental agency the day before. B.B. had texted the details for pickup, and all I had to do was sign for it. It was a fast little number that suited a young college girl to the T.

  The day rolled by like a snail caught in a trail of molasses. But finally it was four. I ran out to the parking lot and hightailed it out of there before any of my classmates could comment on my wheels. I had already plugged the address into the GPS, and in no time I blended into the Friday evening traffic heading out of town. About half an hour later I drove into a community.

  My mouth fell open as I drove through the mansion-filled streets. But my destination was considerably more impressive than any of the other houses I had passed. I watched as the automatic gate responded to an invisible instruction from somewhere within. B.B. had told me he would end his class early and would be there to meet me. As I drove up the curved driveway, I could not help admiring the house. It was surreal that just one person lived there. “I guess when you’re a billionaire anything goes,” I muttered to myself. There were two stories. From the outside there seemed to be at least four bedrooms on the first floor. The ground floor had huge picture windows, and I had a fun time guessing which window belonged to which room. Two columns framed the front door. As I raised my hand to knock, the door swung open. There, in a silky bathrobe, was B.B. His face lit up as he pulled me inside. I barely got the chance to look around the magnificent foyer before his lips fastened on mine. I dropped my bags as my hands went up to wind around his neck. When at last he raised his head, his eyes were glittering hotly.

  “I’ve been waiting for you. I ran us a bath.” He picked up my bags and headed upstairs. I had no option but to follow. The master suite was easily the size of my apartment, and I was struck dumb. He dropped my bags onto a couch and pulled me back into his arms. He pulled my t-shirt off as I eagerly toed off my sneakers. Next came my jeans and underwear. He dropped his robe as he swept me up into his arms
and walked with me into the large bathroom. The jacuzzi tub was bubbling away. He lowered me in gently before joining me and squeezing out a generous amount of peppermint-scented bubble bath. The foam soon rose to cover us. He leaned back against the side of the tub and I scooted to sit between his thighs. As I leaned back, I looked up at him. There were no questions asked and no answers needed as he bent to find my lips. His hands came around to hold me securely around the waist. His thumbs and forefingers found my nipples and tweaked them, and I groaned deep and low in my throat. He raised his head and grinned at me. He held my eyes as he slid a hand down my stomach to find my clit beneath the bubbles. I threw my head back and bit my lips.

  “I’ve already found one good thing about you being here for the weekend.”

  I moaned and wriggled as he continued to stroke my clit. “What’s that?” I asked breathily.

  “Here you can scream your pretty little head off as I make you come over and over and over.” His hand slid lower and his middle finger slid into my pussy. My head went back as I arched into his touch.

  “Oh fuck…”

  “Don’t worry, baby. I soon will. “

  B.B. was a man who kept his word. He stroked me to a shuddering climax before draping me over the edge of the tub and spreading my knees. He kept up the pressure on my clit even as he thrust into me from behind. Water sloshed down to the floor from our movements. And he was right about being at his house. I screamed like a banshee at the double assault. He left me draped over the side of the tub, limp, while he got out and got a towel. He lifted me into his arms and walked us through to the bedroom. I barely had time to register the king-sized bed before his body covered mine. He pushed my knees to my chest, baring me to him and slowly sunk to where I ached for him.

  “Look how you cream on my dick,” he grunted as he stared in awe where we connected while he pulled in and out slowly, letting me adjust to his thick shaft. My inner walls clenched around his rock-hard cock, causing him to curse out loud. “Fuck, baby! You fit me like a glove.”

  “Fuck me,” I panted, gripping his arm. “Harder.”

  And B.B. did. He fucked me hard and had the huge bed squeaking and hitting the wall. The sound of our skin slapping together, and of my wetness, bounced off the walls. The air smelled of our fucking.

  “Don’t close your eyes,” he panted. “Look at me while you come” he commanded.

  I kept my eyes open, locked onto his face, despite the mind-numbing pleasure beginning to blur everything else. My heart raced. He thrust harder and a soundless moan escaped my lips. He whispered sweet nothings as we fucked like animals. Our desire for each other was all-consuming. Sex with him seemed to get better each time. B.B. pumped hard. He wrung out a third and fourth climax from me before, with a loud groan of his own, he filled me up. I lay panting beneath him as his chest heaved against mine. No words were needed to describe what we did then. I don’t think there are words to do that. I still felt the buzz of the fading orgasm in my veins. We both dozed off briefly; he lay between my thighs with his head on my breast.

  When I stirred, I was alone, and it was dark outside. I yawned, stretched, and rolled to the side, searching for a lamp or some light source. My hand bumped into a table, and a further search yielded a lamp. I blinked in the sudden light that flooded the space. At the foot of the bed I saw a robe like the one B.B. had worn earlier. There was a note attached.

  Come downstairs.

  I slipped into the robe and did as instructed. It was not hard to find my way around. I soon found myself in a dining room with a table that could seat twelve and leave room. The table was set for two. B.B. was coming in with a platter that smelled heavenly, and my stomach rumbled in response. He had donned the robe in which he’d met me.

  “Grab the wine, baby.” He indicated the direction of the kitchen and I obeyed. I soon returned with the bucket of ice and the wine which had been left breathing on the counter. I placed them in the center of the table on an empty tray, then took a seat as he removed the cover to reveal simmering potatoes au gratin. Another platter revealed succulent steaks. He served me, then himself, and we ate almost in silence. At first, I was a bit nervous. This meal was far different from the meal at Wayling’s. Then we had been two strangers who were attracted to each other. Now we were professor and student in a clearly illicit romantic relationship. What did lovers talk about when they met? My brow furrowed as my thoughts deepened.

  “This is a far cry from Wayling’s, isn’t it?” he said.

  I smiled ruefully. “You must be a mind reader. I was thinking about when we first met.”

  “What about it?”

  “We were just two random people who were enjoying each other’s company. Now we’re lovers.”

  “Secret lovers.”

  “Yes. Secret lovers. How did we get here?”

  “Boy meets girl. Boy likes girl. Boy and girl have sex. Boy and girl are in a relationship. End of story.” He reached for my glass and topped it up. I took a sip of the sweet red liquid and then swirled it around, enjoying the hues as the light danced in the glass. Finally, I tilted my head to the side and squinted at him?

  “If you’re so rich, B.B., why are you teaching?”

  “You know, you could be a lawyer.”

  “I could be many things. We’ll see how I feel when the semester ends. Why teaching? Why not something in the computer engineering field?”

  He shrugged, pushed his plate away, leaned on the table, and looked deep into my eyes. Then he took a sip of his wine and topped it up. The bottle was empty.

  “All through school I’ve been told that I was a genius and could do anything to which I put my mind. I could become a lawyer, a doctor, a damn Indian chief if I wanted to. And so, I tried every little thing. I realized something about myself very quickly; I hated to fail, and I loved to be at the top of the class. And so, I excelled at excelling. I eventually found that I was pretty good with algorithms and formulas and codes, all the tools needed for computer science. I dabbled here and there with a few codes. One day I found something that worked. I shared it with a friend who shared it with a friend. The next thing I knew, B-Squared was born.”

  I looked at him puzzled. “How does that story explain why you’re teaching?”

  He tweaked my nose gently. “I’m getting there. When I was in elementary school our teacher was absent one day. We had a substitute. When he asked where we were in the lesson, I volunteered to explain and demonstrate what we had learned up to that point. I did a smashing job of recapping the lesson to date. But that wasn’t all; I had also read ahead and was able to teach the new topic even better than the teacher, according to my classmates. I felt a fire ignite within me. I ran home and told my parents that I knew what I wanted to be. They were looking to see what sort of prodigy they had on their hands. When I said I wanted to teach, they were not having it. They wanted me to become a scientist or a doctor or a lawyer or a member of some other profession that raked in the money. I was crushed. I made the argument that all other professionals stood on the shoulders of teachers-- that without teachers none of those professions they wanted for me would exist anyway. They were not impressed with my reasoning. As they saw it, the bottom line was that teaching was not a financially beneficial profession, and that I needed to look to what would put some zeroes in my bank account. So I was a good son and applied myself to a rich profession. As I said, I dabbled, I cracked a code and created an app. The rest, as they say, is history. My parents got their bragging rights about their rich son the computer genius. I left the company in the hands of my best friend and vice-president, Ollie. He’s the one who found the advertisement for this job and urged me to apply. It was a dream come true. None of the billions in my account can match the satisfaction I feel when I stand in front of a group of young people waiting to be educated. Knowing that I hold the key to the knowledge they seek and can unlock it for them... that’s a feeling money can’t buy.”

  I looked at him and my heart swelled with
pride. I stood and walked around the table to his chair. Gently I removed the glass from his hand, then straddled him. He pushed the chair back from the table slightly. I reached behind me to move the dishes and glasses away. His hand went to the belt of my robe, which came loose when he tugged it. As the two ends parted his eyes dilated. My chest rose and fell with every breath. He gripped my hips and lifted me, slowly positioning me so that my ass was on the edge of the table. He parted the robe completely, baring me to his hot gaze. His thumb traced the crease of my slit before rubbing the nub of my clit. He watched my face as I reacted to his touch. He smiled mischievously and winked.

  “I do believe dessert is served.” With that, he dipped his head. I was happy that I had moved the plates as I went flat on my back. My feet came up to rest on his shoulders as I arched into his tongue. He licked my pussy, his tongue flicking my hooded nub and dipping into my entrance.

  “Fuck!” I moaned, closing my eyes and surrendering to his masterful ministration.

  “Hmm, you taste delicious,” he groaned as he spread my folds and licked me more. I writhed uncontrollably as my moans grew louder and hoarser.

  “I’m coming!” My body shuddered as I started to fall apart.

  “Yes, come for me, darling,” he commanded as his tongue licked me furiously.

  I screamed in ecstasy, and before I could come down from the earth-shattering orgasm, he rose and placed his dick at my entrance and buried himself with one long, hard thrust. We both groaned. He wasted no time in bringing me to the brink of another climax. He pushed my thighs all the way up to my chest. I had never felt so open and vulnerable yet so safe. He leaned down and kissed me hard as he thrust over and over. The plates and glasses rattled on the table, but at the moment they were secondary.