by Unknown
He shook his head. “Seeing you this afternoon brought back many feelings. I experienced them in your class last term as well. At the time, I remained unconcerned, as my desire to please you motivated me to excel in your course. Now the distraction is more problematic.”
He shifted a little, his thoughts apparently disturbing his usually perfect balance, his expression growing haggard. Layla glanced down and saw his uniform pants tent with the evidence of his desire. Her own nipples hardened in an immediate response. He noticed it too. His tongue darted out and circled his lips.
“I’m glad you brought this to my attention,” she said, feigning control over the situation. “My experience and training suggests that directly confronting a problem yields the best results. Perhaps that is what we should do in this case, as well.”
“Yes,” he said, his voice rasping. “I agree. Physical attraction…should be no cause for shame.”
Privately, she felt a thrill at his admission. She was careful not to betray her feelings, however. She had to maintain at least the semblance of professional restraint. “That’s true. We are all subject to normal biological imperatives, however intellectually driven our societies have become over the aeons. Living in an isolated mini-society like the Institute only amplifies those urges.”
His throat quivered. She stepped closer, lifting his hand and holding it between both her palms. What she was doing was nothing short of madness, she knew, but her body seemed to move without seeking permission from her mind. Slowly, she guided his outstretched fingers toward her left breast.
“Touch me,” she whispered.
Chapter Two
Her frankness shocked Jaret. His hand, still clasped between hers, shook. “Are you certain?”
“Yes. I want you to.”
She heard him take a deep, calming breath. She let her own hands drop to her sides as Jaret reached up and rested both palms on the swell of her breasts. He began to massage her, sliding his fingers over her fleshy curves and outlining the shapes of her rigid nipples. Murmuring her enjoyment, Layla leaned into his touch and let him explore. Soon he bent his head and brushed his lips against her neck, sucking her skin. He then moved lower, dropping his mouth to her nipples. His tongue flicked her tender flesh through the sheer fabric of her dress.
Arousal seared her verves and wet heat pooled between her legs. “Let’s move this to my bedroom,” she suggested breathlessly. Jaret didn’t resist when she led him through her living area and into the next room.
“I…um…take it you’ve never done this before,” she asked as they stood face to face beside the bed.
“Indeed I have not,” he answered, his voice shaking.
“Well, you let go of all that test anxiety for now. You won’t be graded on this particular performance. And you’ll know the results of our efforts right away—instantly, in fact.”
“I will keep that in mind.”
She paused in the act of reaching for the top button of his trousers. “I suppose we should have discussed this earlier. You…ah…you have observed standard protocol, I assume?”
Jaret blushed and nodded. “My contraceptive injections are in order,” he replied.
“As are mine.” Layla let out a nervous sigh. She hadn’t had that particular conversation since she’d been his age. “All right, then. I suppose we can move forward.”
They undressed each other slowly. Layla had never felt sexier than she did when his gaze roved hungrily over every inch of her newly bared flesh. He seemed to admire every part of her equally. She enjoyed the sight of him just as much, pausing to appreciate his graceful limbs, narrow chest and hips, and silky, ivory-pale skin. Like all Zaraxians, he was hairless everywhere below the shoulders, though she was delighted to see a delicate fringe of dark curls framing the base of his cock. As for that feature of his anatomy, which she had spent more time visualizing than she cared to admit, she found it every bit as appealing as the rest of him. Long and smooth, it reared up against a set of rocky abs honed to perfection in the gravity gym. Jaret did little more than stare, unsure what to do next. Layla stretched out on top of the covers, extending a hand.
“Come to me,” she whispered.
Hesitant, he rested one knee on the edge of the bed and began to crawl toward her. His cock, so hard she imagined she could see its dark veins throbbing under the tight skin, slapped against his thighs as he moved. Layla assisted him by sliding both hands around his waist and guiding him into position between her open legs. His eyes were wide with anxiety, and his breath came in shallow rasps. He looked down at their bodies pressed together and tilted his hips so that the tip of his cock brushed the wet folds of her pussy.
“Go ahead,” she coaxed him, opening her legs wider. “It’s what we both want—need. And don’t worry. You won’t hurt me.”
He squinted, his expression becoming one of intense concentration. Bracing his arms on either side of the bed, he drove his body forward and pushed himself inside her. Layla clutched his shoulders, squeezing his flesh as he pumped his hips in quick, staccato thrusts. Bursts of heat filled her while the rigid swell of his thick base stimulated her swelling clit. The excitement generated by her earlier fantasies about him faded to insignificance compared to the real sensations flooding her body. Every lunge forced her closer to the edge.
Just before she got there, Jaret’s body went rigid above her, and he moaned as sudden climax gripped him. Worried that he would pull away and leave her stranded, Layla slid her hands to his buttocks and forced him deeper inside.
“Don’t—stop—” she managed to gasp, arching her hips and grinding her clit against him. At last, their friction triggered her own implosion. The sweet pull of orgasm clutched at her and turned their entwined bodies into a single flash of white-hot light. Her head spun a little as she floated down, her fingers still pressed into his sweat-slicked skin and her thighs still clasping his narrow hips. Gradually, he slowed his thrusts and soon eased himself out of her.
His face flushed with a mixture of triumph and self-consciousness she found endearing. “Did you find that pleasurable?” he asked as he stretched out beside her.
“I did.” She traced path down the center of his chest. “And you?”
“I found it one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life,” he said, a touch of wonder in his voice. “I understand now what you meant about seeing immediate results.”
Layla nodded. “Giving the other person pleasure should be every bit as rewarding as experiencing it for oneself.”
“I shall remember that.” To her surprise, Jaret shifted away from her and sat up. “And now I am afraid I must take my leave. The study group has been gracious enough to reschedule the review session I embarrassed myself at earlier today. I trust I will be able to concentrate more effectively this time. I will not, of course, elaborate on the reasons for my recovery.”
“Of course not.” Layla watched with some amusement as he got up and gathered his clothing. Did he think a brief sexual interlude could fortify his academic abilities, like a gulp of caffeine or a stimulant tablet? She could predict what would happen at his study group, where he would no doubt squirm in pain as his body continued to remember what his mind tried to push aside. He had so much to learn—briefly she wished she could be the one to guide him through the exciting labyrinth of claiming his sexual identity just as she had taught him the basics of alien diplomacy.
However, his approach seemed sensible and certainly the safest as far as her career was concerned. They could part somewhat formally, their respective roles at the Institute intact. He would find someone else with whom to continue his more personal studies and she would return to her impeccably professional life. She sighed.
“What is the protocol for taking leave of one’s lover?” he asked, back in his uniform, his manner carefully composed and respectful.
She paused, caught off guard by the question. “Maybe you should kiss me. After all, we haven’t tried that yet.” “Very well. I suppose th
at is the most suitable expression of thanks in this case.”
Without hesitation, he bent down and kissed her. His lips were warm and supple, his taste warm and spicy. She wished he would stay long enough to place his mouth on other parts of her body and practice a more exotic form of kissing with her. But she’d gone too far already; to do anything more with him would be insane.
Jaret drew back, pursing his lips for a moment as if savoring her flavor, too. He opened his mouth to say something, but apparently thought better of it. Then he turned and was gone.
* * * *
Layla spent the morning conducting formal review sessions for her current students, energized by the memory of her delightful transgression. Her dreams had been filled with hazy, but nonetheless exciting, images of other passionate moments she and Jaret might steal together—behind the data racks in the library, on the desk in her office, even in the of the gravity gym with the atmosphere adjusted to simulate pure weightlessness.
Though she knew none of these scenarios would ever come to pass, at least not with Jaret, she now had a rich store of fantasies she could call up whenever she wanted one. Stepping outside the boundaries of proper behavior once in a while was, she believed, both psychologically and physically healthy. As she walked from her last class of the day toward her office, she heard someone run up behind her.
“Professor!”
She turned to see Jaret fall into step beside her.
“I trust you’re feeling more engaged with your classes today,” she joked.
He looked distressed. “Indeed I am not. I am afraid my most recent review session proved an even greater disaster than the first. I considered returning to your quarters to discuss the problem further, but I didn’t want to impose.”
Layla knew the proper response would be to express some noncommittal sympathy and encouragement and send him on his way. Instead, she smiled at him in a way he could not possibly misinterpret. So she’d gone insane. What choice did she have but to enjoy it? She wanted, more than anything, to see him again.
“You’re right. We should talk. Why don’t you come back tonight?”
“I fear I would be interrupting your work.”
“I’d already planned to get everything done this afternoon since I have to attend a faculty dinner. Come afterward. I would be happy to devote the entire rest of my evening to you.”
The hint of a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I have no right to expect that, but I am grateful just the same.”
“Not at all. I look forward to more…conversation.”
“Very well. Until then.” Jaret gave a short bow and rushed off. Layla returned to her office, hurried through her work for the next few hours and got back to her quarters with time to spare. She changed into her dress uniform and sat through a rather flavorless meal, capped with a lecture by the current military commander in charge of containing the space brigands. She spent the entire evening in a state of physical and mental torture aching for Jareth’s body. Every moment seemed to last a solar hour and every pause in the commander’s speech made her hope the talk was ending. Each time, her hopes were brutally dashed. Provost Xath, seated beside her, leaned down and flashed her a knowing smile.
“You’re looking rather flushed, my dear. Too much wine?”
Layla pressed her fingers to her cheek. Sure enough, her skin was burning up. “Yes, that must be it.”
Xath sighed. “Personally, I can’t wait for this to end. I’m looking forward to a pleasant evening with just myself and a book. You too?”
“Yes…more or less,” she improvised. She hated lying to him and knew she was no good at it anyway. “I mean, I have some…some student evaluations to complete.”
“Oh, how tedious.” Xath winked. “On the other hand, I suspect you have ways of making the process both creative and personally satisfying.”
“I…ah…I do my best,” she said. Her blush deepened. Fortunately, just as she started to worry that she might faint in the stuffy banquet room, the lecture ended and she and Xath started moving toward the exit.
The night air felt cool and refreshing as Xath walked her across the courtyard to her residence unit and left her at the doors of the lift with a small bow. She knew he was dying to follow her up and see what secret had left her so nervous, but he would always be too much of a gentleman to insist. Through the one-way glass panes of the lift, she saw him glance back over his shoulder and then continue walking along the campus path. When she stepped out on her floor, she found Jaret standing in front of her quarters, looking harried and fidgety. She wondered how long he’d been waiting.
“I see the Provost made sure you arrived home safely,” he observed in a tight voice.
“Yes. We attended the faculty dinner together.” Amused by his vexed expression, she added, “He and I have been very close friends for a long time. Nothing more.”
Relief crossed his face. “I see.”
“Come in. We can talk inside.”
“Thank you.” He followed her in and took a seat on the couch when she motioned to it. He sat slumped over at the shoulders, a perfect portrait of misery.
“So I understand you are still having some trouble concentrating on your studies?”
He nodded. “I am beginning to grow concerned. Final exams start in two days. I feel woefully unprepared for the time in my academic career.”
“You’re not unprepared. You’re simply experiencing a form of anxiety that’s blocking you from accessing your long-term memory. All the information you've learned over the past four years is there. It’s just hidden behind a kind of screen your emotions have put up.”
“That’s it exactly,” he said, straightening up on the couch.
“I thought so.” She took a seat beside him. “I have to admit, I’m experiencing the same thing myself.” Her lack of attention to the after-dinner speech was a perfect example. Even now, she could hardly remember a word of it. Before all this happened, she would have listened to every word and perhaps even taken notes to peruse later. “Well, I’ve been giving it some thought since we talked this afternoon and I think I know what the problem is. You know how sometimes you have a project you know you could have completed much better if only you’d had more time?”
“Yes. Of course. A constant problem for a cadet, though I do try to manage my time wisely.”
“I’m sure you do. Still, I believe the reason you felt distracted again today was that we didn’t succeed in driving away all of those…urges that were distracting us. Tonight I suggest we go much slower and pay attention to every part of our bodies, not just the more…ah, obvious areas. That way, we will both feel as though we have completed the job in a more satisfactory way. We’ll probably both feel an immense burden lift from our minds.”
He listened with the same attention he might have given a classroom lesson on sub quantum physics. A flush crept up his neck, though his expression betrayed his attempt to contain it. The crotch of his uniform pants was rising, too.
“Agreed,” he said and then swallowed.
“Very well. We can start right now. The truth is, I’d like to rinse off after that long and tedious dinner. I think I’d like you to help. Follow me.”
Jaret followed her into the washroom. She stopped at the control panel on the wall and punched in the specifications for her shower—very hot, at the highest pressure setting. While the water gushed, filling the bathroom with steam, she turned back to Jaret.
“Take off your clothes,” she told him.
Chapter Three
Layla shucked off her dress uniform and watched while he peeled out of his tunic and crisp blue trousers. He moved slowly, his arousal obvious and most likely painful. When at last he had completed the task, she held out her hand and drew him with her under the hot, soothing spray.
“Now why don’t you wash me?” she asked, handing him a dispenser full of sparkly shower gel. “Everywhere.”
“Very well.” Stepping back so he would have room to maneu
ver, he tilted the gel bottle and squeezed a dollop into his hand. The steam soon took on a sweet smell as Layla turned and fitted her back against his chest. His soap-coated fingers slid over her nipples and settled between her legs. She moaned as his touch became more familiar still, massaging the wet curls and spreading the scented suds around her most intimate folds. She gasped when he dipped a fingertip inside her, the brief stimulation making her long for something much thicker.
“Now it’s my turn,” she said when he eased his hand away, a hungry look on his face. Layla gently took the gel from him and smeared a generous helping over his cock, making him groan with need. Her hand roved over him, teasing and tugging, even encircling his balls under the pretext of applying the scented lather. Before long, his distended erection jutted up against her thighs.
Her nerves were on fire. She reached out and touched the control panel, switching the shower spray off. Without a word, she turned on the “dry” function instead, and a balmy breeze fluttered over them, instantly drying their skin. The whispery feel reminded her of his hands sliding gently up and down her bare back. She couldn’t wait to experience the real thing.
Grasping both his hands, she pulled him through the room and onto the bed with her. She pushed him onto his back and straddled his knees, drinking in the sight of his pale, supple flesh and straining cock. His abdomen fluttered with each ragged intake of his breath.
“Let’s try something,” she suggested. “I’m going to go slowly and build up to release. I want us to experience it together. Hold back and don’t give in until I tell you to.”
“Very well. I shall do my best…though you do make it difficult to maintain self-control at times.”
