Special Delivery: Winter: An Mpreg Romance Collection

by Aria Grace

  “Yeah,” he said. “You used to tell me all that stuff, but you don’t anymore. All you do is go to parties and skip classes. What’s going on?”

  I got up and pulled on some jeans, then found a mostly clean T-shirt and put it on over my head. “I don’t know. I’ve just been going through it lately.”

  “Going through what?”

  I stuffed my laptop into my backpack, grabbed my water bottle and a half eaten protein bar, then headed for the door. “I don’t even know,” I said as I left the room.

  But that wasn’t the truth. I did know what was going on. I just didn’t want to talk about it. I was kind of sick of thinking about my stupid problems, because, in the grand scheme of things, they didn’t really seem like problems and all. They just felt like silly drama I had been spinning around and around in my head. Especially considering some of the real problems people around me had—like not having the money to pay rent or bills, or not being able to feed their families. Compared to those people I had it easy.

  But it didn’t feel that way at all.

  The thing was, I would’ve gladly switched places with any of those people with families to feed or mortgages to pay. At least they had someone to share their deepest, darkest feelings with—not to mention their lives. They had someone to hold hands with on long walks while they looked at Christmas lights and decorations. They had someone to sit in front of a fireplace with. They had someone to hold and keep them warm at night.

  As I made my way down the residential streets on my way to campus I checked out the decorations and lights on the houses that I passed by. Winter was my absolute favorite time of year, especially when there was snow on the ground and everything was decorated for the holidays. I passed by outdoor trees that were sprinkled with brightly colored balls, and houses with gorgeously decorated trees displayed in the front window.

  The sight of so much beautiful holiday cheer made me feel all cozy and happy inside, but it also made me sad. I was still considered a kid by a lot of people. I mean, I knew nineteen really wasn’t that old. But my age didn’t make me any less of an omega. An omega who had dreamt of having babies since the moment he hit puberty.

  I knew I was being ridiculous again. I had lots of time to meet someone and fall in love and make a family. And I also knew that not everyone else in the world had a partner, but it sure as hell felt that way. It felt like everyone but me had someone in their lives to love and at least one child of their own.

  I dragged my feet as I climbed the stairs of the liberal arts building where my creative writing class was held, then crept as quietly as I could into the auditorium. I even held the door as it shut to keep it from making any noise. Professor Lewis still noticed, of course. The room was silent. Everyone was hunched over their desks, scribbling away furiously, like they were in the middle of an assignment. An assignment I should have been doing.

  “Mr. Brady,” he said, his words echoing throughout the room. “Can I see you up at my desk please?”

  I was still coming down the stairs, so I just carried my backpack and bottle of water with me to Professor Lewis’s desk. I kept my head down as I made my way across the room. I could feel the eyes of a hundred students on me. And between that, my hangover, and the sinking feeling in my gut I was sure I was going to throw up at any second.

  “You do realize you’re not going to pass this class, don’t you, Mr. Brady?”

  I kicked the toe of one of my sneakers against the linoleum floor. The squeak echoed throughout the silent room. I was so ashamed of myself I couldn’t even look Professor Lewis in the eye. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ve just been having a hard time this semester. If you could give me another chance, I’ll make it up. Everything. All of the homework and assignments. I promise.”

  There was a long silence. So long I wasn’t sure what to do, so I finally looked up into his eyes.

  Professor Lewis cleared his throat. “I’m not going to waste any class time discussing your absenteeism. I’d like you to come to my office after class. We can continue this discussion then.”

  I was so relieved I had to lean up against his desk for a moment to steady myself. I seriously thought this was it. That I had screwed up so royally I was going to lose everything I’d worked for from the beginning of the semester. “Thank you, sir. I’ll be there.”

  “In the meantime, please complete the assignment on the board. You have,” he looked at his watch. “Fifteen minutes.”

  I turned and quickly went to my seat. Somehow, even though I was still hung over and tired, I had a renewed feeling of excitement. Professor Lewis wasn’t going to fail me. I knew I could make everything up to him. I could do it. I just needed to get my head straight.

  I looked up at the board and read the assignment. A five-thousand word essay on what I wanted for Christmas. I couldn’t help but smile. It was the sort of assignment that was assigned to children in kindergarten and grade school, yet here it was as one of the final assignments of freshman-level creative writing.

  I knew Professor Lewis wanted more than words about presents and decorations and lights. He wanted creatively constructed sentences with depth and feeling. He wanted us to approach a hum-drum, and seemingly ordinary assignment from a new perspective. He took simple ideas and forced us to turn them around in our heads until each one of us dug, and shaped, and polished our very own diamond.

  Well, that was one of the reasons I loved him, anyway. Carl was definitely right. I had the hots for Professor Lewis. I had since the moment I saw him at the creative writing symposium I attended when I was signing up for my freshman schedule. And my infatuation grew with each class of his that I’d attended.

  He was perfect. So intelligent and funny and sexy in that hot daddy sort of way. And he had a way about him. He could be commanding with just a look. But when he spoke his deep voice send shivers down my spine. I could write ten thousand words on all the things I loved about Professor Lewis, and that thought gave me an idea for my assignment.

  I pulled out a piece of paper and immediately went to work. I decided I was going to tell the truth about what I was going through. Every single feeling and thought and painfully embarrassing detail. I was going to tell Professor Lewis exactly what I wanted for Christmas.

  2. Brady

  To say that I was disappointed in Lawrence Brady’s attendance would be the understatement of the year. He was one of my best students, he had been since the very first paper he turned in. And with each new assignment I became more and more enraptured. I couldn’t get the young man out of my head.

  It could partly have been because we shared the same name—his last name being exactly the same as my first. But that was just one small thing that drew me to him. I found him incredibly attractive, both his physical form and his sweet, kind demeanor. And I found his pure, almost crystalline scent incredibly intoxicating.

  I am fully aware of the fact that teacher/student relations are frowned upon, not only by the administration, but also by other faculty and most parents of students who attended the college. Obviously I had no intention of ever attempting to seduce this young man. I valued my job and my status far too much. That didn’t stop me from fantasizing about his firm, young body every single night, though.

  So when he started skipping class I was incredibly disappointed. I had actually imagined that he would come to me as a protégé, that I would get the chance to mentor him and help him develop his skills as a writer. In my fantasy I worked with him long enough for him to graduate college, which would allow a lot more freedom since we would be out from under the institute’s rules and regulations.

  But that fantasy basically hinged on Lawrence passing his first semester. As it turned out, he had missed so many of my classes that technically I could fail him without any further conversation. But I liked him. A lot. I wanted to give him a chance to explain why he gave up on himself so quickly.

  Since he had arrived to class so late, Lawrence was the last student to turn in his assignment, so it s
at on top of the pile as I carried my paperwork back to my office. I could hear Lawrence padding along behind me. Everything he did, even his movements and his quiet steps as he walked down the hall were so enchanting and adorable. But I had to keep my mind on the subject at hand.

  When we were inside my room and I shut the door Lawrence sat down on the brown leather couch that stood against the far wall across from my desk.

  “Let’s get right to the point, Mr. Brady. Why is it that you have felt the need to skip so many of my classes this semester?”

  He was sitting slightly slumped forward and was staring at the ground in front of him. “It’s all in there,” he said gesturing toward the pile of paperwork on my desk.

  “The assignment? What you want for Christmas? The reason you’ve missed so many of my classes is in that essay?”

  Lawrence slowly moved his eyes up until they met mine. He looked tired and a little sad. “Yes, sir.”

  I open my mouth to say something, but decided I might as well just read what the young man had to say. Especially since reading his assignments was one of the highlights of my day. At least, it was on the days he chose to show up and turn in his homework.

  The essay started out briefly outlining Lawrence’s childhood and the parents he was raised by—two dads, an omega and alpha who made Lawrence feel loved and cherished. He also had a brother, a younger one who he loved deeply, but who had something that Lawrence didn’t. Something that made Lawrence envious.

  A baby.

  In Lawrence’s assignment he wove in bits of background, as well as comparisons to other people and things he saw in his surroundings, and created a very lovely and compelling story. He talked about how this jealousy he had for his brother started to wreak havoc on him, making him feel like a bad person. So he started drinking, hoping to find solace in the act of being drunk, and to find someone to give him the things he desired so desperately. Love and partnership and warmth. And a family.

  But the story had a twist, a minor character who sat in the sidelines, never suspecting or imagining that they would become one of the main characters in another person’s story. Lawrence detailed his infatuation with an older man. A man who he saw regularly, multiple times a week, and whose presence eventually became painful for him.

  Lawrence detailed how he couldn’t keep this person out of his thoughts, and had a hard time containing himself whenever he was in his presence. He talked about how having a relationship and eventually a baby with this man was, truly, all he wanted for Christmas.

  In the assignment Lawrence described this man, what he looked like, how intoxicating his scent was, and the fact that he was the head of the literature department at Haverford College. That isn’t the name of the college where I am head of the literature department, but a pseudonym that loosely covered up Lawrence’s declaration. But not very well, because it was fairly clear that the man he spoke of was me.

  I wasn’t exactly sure what to do once I finished reading the essay. I set the paper down on top of the pile, then looked up at Lawrence. He was still sitting there quietly, slumped forward and staring at the ground, with his arms folded in front of him.

  I wanted to order him to stand up and come over to me. I wanted to tell him to take off his clothes and sit down on my lap. I wanted him to spread his ass cheeks apart, then slide himself down my cock, then ride it for the next hour. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Not yet, anyway.

  “That’s one assignment you have completed out of …” I quickly looked him up on my class spreadsheet. “Eight. You’ve missed seven other assignments, Mr. Brady.”

  He looked up at me, his eyes bright and sparkling. “I can make them up. All of them. If you just give me a chance, I promise I will.”

  “The holiday break is starting next week. I’ll expect you in my office every day at 9 a.m. You’ll do your make up assignments here, and any exams you’ve missed, and you’ll help me grade papers. Two weeks, that’s how long I expect you to come here and work here to make up for the classes you’ve missed. Do you agree to that?”

  “Yes! I’ll be here! I promise, sir.”

  “All right, then, I’ll see you on Monday.”

  Lawrence got up and walked toward the door, but before he opened it he turned back to me.” Sir?” he asked. “What did you think of the assignment? The one you just read?”

  I stared in my hands for a long moment, then turned and looked Lawrence. “I thought it was very well written, and very compelling. I think you are a beautiful writer, and have skills you’re not even aware of. I would give you an A, but that would imply there isn’t any need for improvement. And I don’t believe that is the case, because I feel there is a lot I can teach you, if you’re interested. A lot about discipline, and respect. A lot about knowing your place. But I can also teach you how to know yourself better. How to use your own skills to please yourself and those around you. You’re a very striking and competent young man, and I think you could pick up on things very quickly. Do the things I’ve just mention sound like anything you’d like to explore?”

  “Yes,” he said, lowering his head slightly, but keeping eye contact. “I’m very interested in learning anything you want to teach me.”

  “Then we’ll start on Monday.”

  3. Lawrence

  “What do you think he wants to teach you?”

  I stood there staring at Carl with all of Professor Lewis’s words swirling around in my head. “I don’t know!”

  “But you told him how you feel about him?”

  “Yeah, basically. I mean, he had to know I was talking about him. I made it pretty obvious in the essay.”

  “What did you write about him, exactly?”

  I was still stunned by the interaction I’d just had with Professor Lewis, and I was spinning everything I’d said in the essay around in my mind, so going over it with Carl was easy. “Well, I talked about wanting what my brother had, a partner to love, and a baby. Then I described a fantasy man, someone I wasn’t sure knew I existed, but who I’d loved from afar for a long time.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, I don’t even know what possessed me to do it, but something inside me made me put it all out there. It’s crazy. I talked about how this man is perfect in every way. Every physical feature that I find the most attractive in a person, he has them. Dark eyes, dark hair, wiry but toned body. Then I wrote at length about his scent. How when I closed my eyes it wove stories in my subconscious. Stories about a beautiful home filled with children and flowers and love. So much love it was overflowing and spilling out every window and door. Love that I felt so intensely that all I could do was fall back and let it flow through me.”

  “Wow. That’s so awesome. And you talked about wanting to have his babies?”

  “Um, yeah, that was the gist. I mean, I made a couple changes—in the college this man worked at and the name of the town I lived in—I guess so I wasn’t just screaming into a megaphone I want to have your babies Professor Lewis! But he had to have gotten the hint.”

  “It doesn’t sound like it was a hint as much as it was an ode to him. An essay on the reasons why he needed to knot inside you and fill you with his babies.”

  “Yeah, basically.”

  “Wow,” Carl said as he flopped back onto his bed. “So that’s what it’s been all this time? You’ve been drinking and going to parties because you want to fuck your professor?”

  I sat there for a moment, trying to separate my thoughts. “I guess I’m still a little confused about everything. I was happy for my brother Lance and his partner because of their beautiful baby, but I was sad because I didn’t have one of my own, or even a partner to start a family with. I have been totally in love with everything about Professor Lewis for months, but I’ve also been super bummed because I couldn’t imagine anything ever happening between us, or in him even being interested in a young omega like me. So I guess I was trying to drown my pain so I wouldn’t feel it anymore, and I was hoping to find a mate in the proc
ess.”

  “Being drunk at frat parties doesn’t sound like a very good way to find a compatible mate, though.”

  “Yeah, I figured that out pretty early on. But I just kept drinking, hoping something would work.”

  “Well, something did work.”

  “Yeah, in a pretty round about way. I guess I’ll find out for sure next week when I’m alone with Professor Lewis.”

  That week was the hardest of my life. It was so painful to sit through the final class of the semester without saying a word to Professor Lewis about what I’d written about him, and what he’d read. I played the whole conversation I’d had with him in his office over and over in my head, wondering if he was just giving a student a break.

  It couldn’t be just that, I thought to myself as I lay in bed at night picturing him standing over me with his cock out. Then imagining him being stern with me, maybe even putting me over his knee with my pants down as some form of penance I had to pay to pass the class.

  Sunday night I jerked off five times with that exact fantasy playing vividly in my head. I walk into Professor Lewis’s office on Monday morning and the second the door closes behind me he tells me that I can obey his every command, or I flunk the semester. The choice is mine.

  I tell him I will obey him, and he asks me if I’m sure about that. I tell him yes, I want to please you. I want to do everything you want me to do. So in the fantasy he tells me to take off my clothes. I act surprised, but secretly I’m thrilled. Then he tells me to sit on the arm of the couch. I walk over to the couch and sit down. I’m balanced there with my legs on either side of the arm and my hard cock sticking straight up in the air.

  Professor Lewis tells me he wants to watch me play with my cock, but that if I lose control and make myself come he’ll spank me. I’m so excited I come in just a few seconds, and the next thing I know I’m laying over his lap. My cock gets rock hard again when he starts to finger my asshole, then when his hand comes down on my ass cheeks I come again all over his thighs.