Crave

by Margaret McHeyzer

  “Good test,” a few students said as they stepped forward and placed their papers on his desk.

  “Miss Colton, a word please,” he called out to her.

  She was so happy. Finally, her teasing had lured him in.

  All the students left, leaving only Professor Williams and Miss Colton in the airless room together.

  “Close the door,” he ordered as he sat back in his seat.

  “Yes, Sir,” she said.

  “Professor,” he corrected her in a snappy tone.

  Sarah smiled as she turned and walked over to close the door. She turned the lock as well.

  Before she had a moment to turn, he was at her back, her chest pushed against the door. He spread her legs with his knees and flattened himself against her.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked. His voice was rough and heavy with want.

  “Making you see that you and I belong together.”

  “I’m your professor.”

  “And you’re also a man.”

  He licked her neck, tasting the sweetness of her skin. She mewled as she pushed her cute little butt against his rock hard cock.

  “We can’t do this,” he said, moving his hand down to palm her breast. “We shouldn’t do this.” He slipped his hands beneath her tank top, inside her skirt, going straight for her pussy. “We cannot do this.” He felt the strip of hair and slipped two fingers straight into her greedy, wet pussy.

  “Oh shit,” she moaned as she closed her eyes and ground her hips against his assaulting fingers.

  “This is wrong.” His breath was ragged; his raging erection aching to be released so he could have some part of her – any part – wrapped around it.

  “No, it’s not,” Sarah whispered. “I’ve wanted you for the last two years,” she said, turning her head to look over her shoulder at him. His face was so close to hers that her full, gorgeous lips skimmed his.

  “This is wrong on so many levels,” he murmured while thrusting his still fully, erect cock into her ass.

  “Yes, yes, YES! Fuck me, Professor. Fuck me, hard.” She tried to wiggle her skirt and very tiny panties down. But her arms were clasped in his big paw and stretched above her head on the door. With both of them rubbing against each other, it was really quite impossible for her to remove her clothing.

  “I want you so fucking badly,” he whispered before he ground his mouth against hers. His lips were definitely soft, though he commanded her just by the way he moved against her pouty mouth.

  He worshipped her, scraping his teeth against her lips, skillfully demanding that she surrender to him. His body wrapped around hers, stimulating her scorching skin, exquisitely marking her as his. An insatiable, brutally forceful arousal sparked between them.

  God, he wanted her.

  Christ, she needed him.

  She deepened their kiss. It became hungrier, as savage urges overtook her. The kiss turned carnal, and their bodies were about to combust from the way they feasted on each other.

  “Stop!” the Professor finally said. He dropped her hands and took a step back from her, breath rasping, and let his eyes fall to the floor.

  “Why?” Sarah asked, her chest heaving as she tried to pull air into her body.

  “Because, Sarah, you know we can’t do this.”

  Sarah smiled, and took slow, carefully placed steps to close the distance between her and the Professor. She could see the obvious effect she had on him through his jeans, and she couldn’t wait until he was inside her.

  “Is it because you’re my Professor?” she asked coyly, taking another step toward him.

  She was definitely a huntress, an alpha female hell-bent on capturing the prey she’d fantasized about and masturbated to.

  “You know the reason.” His voice held a warning, reinforcing his status as an alpha male. A hot, red-blooded man who wanted her, all for himself.

  “Don’t worry about that,” she said, taking another careful step.

  “No one will understand.” His eyes were now glued on her as she shimmied out of her skirt. Her red, lacey thong was thoroughly drenched. If she took another step he was about to fall to his knees and eat her right there.

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s just about the two of us.”

  “I…” he trailed off.

  She lightly touched his lips with hers, and at that moment, for some reason it all made sense.

  “It’s okay; we’ll figure it out together,” Sarah breathed.

  He wrapped his arms around her and lost himself in her warmth. He knew he would be damned from this moment forward, but he didn’t care.

  You see, the Professor had been the Dean’s best friend for the last two years.

  The Dean…who also happened to be Sarah’s father.

  Double Trouble

  Daniel and Simon sat opposite each other. The young boys were playing together while their mother was in the kitchen, fixing lunch.

  “Mommy’s going to be really mad at you,” Daniel said, his voice still young and immature.

  “Momma never gets mad at me,” Simon countered, a mischievous little smile tugging at his lips.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Daniel agreed, his voice defeated.

  I always get in trouble, why doesn’t Mommy ever get mad with Simon?

  Simon was the one who was always up to no good. The one that climbed where he shouldn’t, drew on walls with crayons and pencils, cut the drapes with scissors, and of course, cut Daniel’s hair. He was a very lively little boy.

  Simon was into everything. He was overly playful and always made sure that Daniel would be the one to get into trouble.

  Today was no different from any other day.

  The twins were playing together and Simon grabbed a pen from the table where his mother had been sitting, writing a letter to her grandmother. (Grandma was incredibly old and didn’t know how to use the thing called the Internet.)

  “Simon, put it down before Mommy comes in.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” giggled Simon as he started playing tic-tac-toe on the wall behind their mother’s desk.

  “Stop it!” Daniel almost yelled, but he didn’t want either of them to get into trouble.

  Simon giggled again and Daniel rolled his eyes.

  “I can’t wait ‘til school starts after vacation, then you can’t get me into trouble,” Daniel said, angrily.

  “I’ll get you into trouble wherever we are,” Simon tormented him.

  “Lunch,” their mother called out as she walked into the room. Her eyes immediately went to Daniel who was sitting on the floor trying to put simple words together. Sounding them out as he held a children’s book. “Daniel,” their mother said. Her voice held warning. She knew that something wasn’t right by the way Daniel’s eyes were darting over to the wall then back down to the book.

  “Yes, Mommy?” Daniel answered in his sweet cherub’s voice.

  “What’s happening?” Her tone lowered, clearly agitated in expectation of some sort of misbehavior.

  Simon giggled under the table as he sat and continued to draw on the wall.

  “Nothing, Mommy,” Daniel said, clearly not wanting to get his trouble-maker twin into hot water.

  “Daniel!” His mother’s voice was now quite irritated, and Daniel knew he was just about to get into trouble. “I’m going to the bathroom, and when I come back you better tell me what’s happening.”

  His mother, a woman in her late thirties, had had trouble conceiving the twins. Her husband was a man who held great stature in society. He was a doctor at the hospital, heading up the emergency department, and was quite often away from home for long periods in the day.

  He absolutely adored his wife, worshipping her whenever he was home, paying attention to her and loving her as any good husband would. However, his love for her went deeper than the normal man’s for his wife. They had been high school sweethearts, and every day he loved her more than the day before. Not a single twenty-four hour period went by when
he didn’t call his wife, send her several, “I love you” text messages, or have flowers delivered to their home.

  She was almost his obsession. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

  So when they’d been married for twelve years, had seen the world together, and had established themselves financially and personally, she asked for a child.

  He of course was beyond ecstatic, because he too wanted nothing more than a large family.

  They tried for over a year, and she just wasn’t becoming pregnant. Though the stress of not being able to conceive sometimes crept into their relationship, the doctor would arrange time off from work, and whisk his beautiful bride off for a romantic, isolated weekend away.

  These getaways would quickly dispel the stress that managed to burrow into their relationship about their lack of success in conceiving. Eventually though, the time did come when they both realistically knew that something wasn’t working.

  It was unclear which of them had a problem. As it turned out, it was him. His sperm count was low, which meant that conceiving naturally was almost – though not entirely – impossible.

  They tried in vitro fertilization (IVF), but nothing happened. So they tried it again, and again, and still nothing happened. They persisted with IVF until one day she told him, “Enough is enough. I can’t keep putting us through this, getting our hopes up only to find that my period keeps arriving like clockwork.”

  The doctor ordinarily believed only in traditional western medicine. But one day, as he sat in the hospital cafeteria, eating his dinner, he was called to an emergency.

  When he arrived, he saw a hippie-looking woman holding her arm, and with her, an Asian man who rested a protective hand on her thigh. The woman was in agony and cradling her arm; the man looked at the doctor and smiled.

  “She broke her arm,” he told the doctor.

  The doctor thought that it was quite strange that they had called him for something so routine, but then again, it was a Saturday night and the waiting room was full of people. And the ambulances just kept coming.

  “Let’s have a look,” the doctor said as he went to move past the Asian man.

  As the doctor swept past him, they made the smallest bare skin contact. The touch, of course, was innocent. A doctor trying to get to his patient, and a protective husband wanting to stay glued to his wife.

  “Ah, you’re having your own troubles,” the Asian man said to the doctor. His voice was certain.

  “What?” the doctor asked, taken back by the Asian man’s bizarre words.

  “You and your wife are trying to conceive, but it’s been unsuccessful.”

  The doctor looked at the woman, who was still cradling her arm, and frowned at disbelief.

  How the hell does he know? Who’s been gossiping? I’ll have them fucking fired!

  She smiled at him, and moved her good arm to place a warm hand on his, comforting him at the startling revelation.

  “Wh-what?” he stuttered.

  “It’s okay, we understand,” the Asian man said.

  “What is it you understand?” the doctor said, projecting his normal confidence, but stepping back from the awkward situation.

  “I understand a lot of things. One of which is that you and your wife are trying for a baby.” The Asian man took a step closer to the perplexed doctor. He put a gentle hand on the doctor’s shoulder and smiled at him.

  “I… what’s going on?” the doctor asked, now not really sure what was happening.

  “I have a gift of sorts, and I see that there are two little boys standing beside you, waiting for you to take them home.”

  The doctor looked down to his left, then to his right. He didn’t see any little boys standing there.

  “Oh no, you can’t see them, but I can. They look like you, and they’re smiling, telling me that they can’t wait to meet you.”

  The doctor was stunned. He thought the man was certifiably crazy, until the man said something that made the doctor really listen.

  “Your wife, Stephanie, she’s the love of your life, and all of this…” He swept a hand around the hospital. “…is all for her. Everything you do, you do for her.”

  The doctor was completely taken aback, the breath knocked from his body. The Asian man, in his late thirties or possibly early forties, smiled warmly at the doctor.

  “How do you know this?” the doctor asked.

  “As I said, I have a gift. I can see things. The dead, the not yet born, the world is different from where I stand.”

  The doctor looked at him, then at the Asian man’s wife, who was suddenly holding her arms down beside her body. She certainly didn’t look like she was in pain any longer.

  “I…” The doctor was stunned. What the hell was happening?

  “We need to go somewhere to talk,” the Asian man said as he stepped out of the door, and gestured for the doctor to follow.

  “Okay,” the doctor said, still unsure of what was happening. “We can go to the cafeteria.”

  “No, we can’t. There are people here who won’t understand. Your office will do.” The Asian man and his wife walked the route to the doctor’s office as if they’d been there before.

  The doctor followed the Asian man thinking, Wow! Is this real?

  “It most certainly is,” the man said, looking back over his shoulder.

  What the fuck!

  The Asian man laughed, hearing what the doctor had thought, as clearly as if it was spoken aloud.

  When they got to the doctor’s office, the man waited for the doctor to unlock the door.

  The doctor thought this was amusing. What no super powers to walk through walls? He snidely thought.

  “No, I’m not blessed with that ability,” the Asian man chuckled.

  Damn it – I’ll have to watch my thoughts.

  “No please don’t. I’ve learned to ignore them,” the Asian man laughed. “But you’re extra loud and I knew I had to help you.”

  When the three of them were seated in the doctor’s office, the Asian man started his rather intriguing, yet peculiar speech.

  The Asian man had been blessed with a very rare gift of seeing and hearing things that others couldn’t. Hearing the things that others thought, but mostly he could see the ‘afterlife’ and the ‘before life’ – spirits waiting to be born, and spirits that had passed and wanted to convey a message so desperately to their loved ones left behind.

  The two boys were anxious to tell their parents that all they had to do was make a simple visit to a certain herbalist, who would assess both parents and give them an herbal concoction to ingest.

  The doctor, who once believed only in traditional western medicines, was quickly changing his mind based on the things that the Asian man was saying.

  After approximately an hour of intense and mind-bending conversation, the Asian man stood and walked to the door.

  “Wait, that’s it? Just go see this herbalist you’ve mentioned, and we’ll be able to get pregnant?”

  “Unless you don’t want it,” the Asian man said with a shrug, although he knew how much the doctor and his wife wanted a baby. “There is one more thing…”

  The doctor nodded, eagerly waiting for whatever final scrap of information he would receive.

  “It would be in your best interest if you do not to speak to your wife about this.”

  And so the Asian man and his wife, whose broken arm seemed to have miraculously healed itself, left the doctor sitting in his chair, thinking about everything that had happened.

  The hours ticked by, and the doctor still sat in his chair, sometimes rubbing his chin, and sometimes looking at the photo of his wife on his desk. He was unable to focus on anything other than the message the Asian man had delivered.

  Was that all real?

  Time seemed to stretch, though before the doctor knew it, he was home.

  What is going on?

  The doctor and his wife sat at the dining room table, completely enveloped in silence. The
y weren’t hostile toward each other, just deep in thought.

  Finally, at dessert, the doctor spoke. “Tomorrow, I’m taking the day off. I want us both to go see an herbalist that was recommended to me. He deals in ancient Chinese medicines, and I want us to go talk to him.”

  His wife stilled her fork above the rich chocolate cake that they were eating. “But you don’t believe in that stuff,” she said.

  “It won’t hurt to try. IVF hasn’t been successful, so let’s just give it a go. What do you say?”

  She sat quietly, not really knowing what to say.

  The seconds passed, her mind ticked.

  “Sure,” she finally said, and looked at him with a smile.

  Now, seven years later, she knew that Daniel was up to no good. He was a beautiful little boy one minute, and a monster the minute she left the room. Despite that, she adored him with her entire heart and soul.

  Boys will be boys.

  She came back into the room, to find Daniel still sitting on the plush carpet, trying to read.

  Daniel’s eyes shot to the wall behind the desk where Simon had now drawn a picture of the entire family.

  “Daniel,” she said, much calmer after she’d taken a few deep breaths.

  “Yes, Mommy?”

  “Why did you draw on the wall?”

  Daniel huffed, and looked at his twin brother. His brother was silently giggling to himself, knowing that Daniel was about to get into a lot of trouble.

  “Mommy, I didn’t.”

  “I think you better clean it up,” she said, annoyed, though definitely not as angry. “Before lunch!” she commanded.

  “Mommy, it wasn’t me!” Daniel cried, fed up with always getting in trouble.

  “Then who was it?” his mom said, hands on her hips, and eyebrows raised.

  “It was Simon! It’s always Simon.”

  Daniel’s mom gasped, and put a hand to her throat. Suddenly, all the breath left her, and a cold sweat blanketed her as she started to become light-headed as she stared, fascinated at the drawing.

  Daniel was a twin. His brother Simon had passed away during childbirth.

  Neither the doctor nor his wife had ever spoken to Daniel about Simon.