by Arlo Arrow
“Cecilia, are you hurt?” he asked, scooping me up in his arms.
“Just a little.”
He sucked his teeth and placed me in his warm, dry car.
“Hold on, we’ll get you better again.”
He parked in the garage of his luxury apartment home. There were many Mercedes and BMWs down here, waxed up and flashy. There were even some Italian sports cars I recognized.
“Wow, rich people must live here,” I said, marveling at all the cars.
“Well, some are, and some are just below the line of rich,” he said, winking.
Pain still radiated out from my knees. I rubbed them and saw the scrapes I took from the fall.
“You didn’t look at the weather again, did you?” he asked.
“I did. That’s why I took my umbrella. But the weather report didn’t say anything about hail and thunderstorms.”
Mr. Dent thought about it and nodded his head in agreement. “True, they didn’t say that. Stay right here. I’ll be right around to help you out.”
“I’m fine, I think I can—”
Mr. Dent put his finger against his lips and I clamped my mouth shut.
“No arguing with the professor.”
He got out, leaving a lingering smell of his cologne mixed with the new smell of the leather interior of his car.
My head got dizzy, and I jumped when he opened my side of the door.
“Here we go,” he said, slipping his arms under me.
Mr. Dent lifted me out like I weighed nothing. I felt the muscles of his arms against me. They felt like cement, so hard and strong.
God, if Alison knew . . . what would she even say? I was being carried by my professor, my handsome older professor.
“How bad is your knee hurting, darling?” he asked. His voice was tender, firm, and caring.
“Um,” I struggled to find any words. This whole situation rendered me speechless. “Well, it hurts. Not too much, but—”
“Okay, I have some medicine and an ice pack. As a matter of fact, there’s something else that might help you.”
“What?”
“You’ll see.”
He took me into the elevator. We were all alone. I was drenched, getting Mr. Dent all wet. My whole body trembled in his arms like a lost deer.
When he got to his floor and walked to his door, I swore I was going to jump out of his arms and run all the way back to my dorm. I mean, this was George Dent. My professor and my crush. I didn’t need this growing into more than what it was.
Fortunately, the pain in both of my knees wouldn’t let me do something so foolish.
Thunder ripped through the sky and I could hear the downpour of hail hitting the building.
George was somehow able to balance me and open his door. The inside was pure luxury and purely masculine.
It had muted colors, lots of browns, and the wall lighting was to die for. They sparkled like little stars and diamonds and were adjustable. Mr. Dent strode inside with me still in his arms. He shut his door with his foot and went over to set me down on his sofa.
My heart leapt at the whiff of cologne that was left on me from his arms.
“Sit still. I’ll be back out here in a minute.”
“Are you sure? I’m wet and this couch looks expen—”
He placed his finger on his lips again and winked.
Sure, make a girl faint.
He strode off into what I guessed was his bedroom.
“Okay . . .” I said, staring off into his apartment.
The ceilings were tall and everything in the apartment screamed George Dent. How did a university professor afford this? And come to think about it, that BMW of his looked expensive too. I wasn’t a car expert, but that wasn’t a model that was often seen.
If it weren’t for the throbbing pain in my knees and palms, I’d roam his house like a lost cat.
I had so many questions. Like about the deer head that loomed over the dining room table, the piano that sat in the corner near the door, and the shiny black box that had a lock on it.
He was a total mystery. Not that I knew him well to begin with. It was just that Mr. Dent seemed to capture my thoughts entirely.
I heard water in the background, and it wasn’t the rain.
Mr. Dent emerged from the room and clapped his hands.
“I have just the thing to make sure you heal quickly and dull the pain. Let’s get you up,” he said, scooping me up again.
“You don’t think I’m heavy?” I asked.
“Gracious, no, Cecilia. You could stand to put on a few pounds.”
My cheeks heated up.
“R-really?”
“I’m just joking. You’re perfect the way you are.” He chuckled.
“Oh, thank you . . .” I said, the words dying in my throat. Such a small compliment had an effect on me, and being in his arms wasn’t helping either.
It was like he was taking me to bed to deflower me and have his way with me.
Oh, the thoughts of a virgin.
“Here we go,” he said, taking me into his master bathroom. Luxury was an understatement. This bathroom was insane. When he set me down on my feet, I could feel the warmth of the marble tile beneath my feet. Heated marble floors. God, that was expensive all on its own.
“I’m going to leave and go into the living room. You get in this tub and soak for a while. There’s a robe in the closet right here when you’re done.” He pointed to a black granite closet area where fluffy white robes hung, waiting to be worn.
“Thanks! But this is too much. An ice pack would be—”
He did it again—he placed his finger to his lips and winked. I obeyed his command.
“Yes, Mr. Dent,” I said, sitting down on the rim of the bathtub. Well, Jacuzzi. It was deep enough to almost be considered a pool. A salty and minty scent rose from the bubbles as I ran my hand through them.
“Call if you need me,” he said before leaving the bathroom and shutting the door.
“Okay.”
Here I was, in his home, about to get naked and soak in his personal tub.
“Wow,” I said, my voice wavering.
Okay, I had to calm down. This bath was going to help make me feel better. The fact that Mr. Dent himself made this for me was proof that this bath was going to be a healing miracle.
I slipped my clothes off and dipped a toe in. Hmm, a salty smell. He must’ve added Epsom Salt. I felt a little naughty being in his bathroom naked, with my lacy panties draped on the side.
Chapter 4
George
This wasn’t what a teacher did for a student who was injured. They didn’t take them home, carry them to their door, and draw them a bath as if they were lovers. No, they’d drive them back to their dorm, the school nurse, or hell, the damn hospital.
But I couldn’t help myself. Cecilia had no one watching over her and I couldn’t resist the pull to be her daddy right now. She needed guidance, a firm and gentle hand. Such a young girl shouldn’t have been out there by herself.
I waited for her on my couch, trying hard to keep my dick sane. Her naked body was marinating in my tub, sharing the same space I utilized with my own naked body.
The test papers in my briefcase needed to be graded, but the suspense of knowing that Cecilia was going to come from those double doors in a robe, fresh from the bath, kept me glued to my seat.
“Damn it, I’ve really gone too far . . .” I sighed. I didn’t want to go back either.
The door creaked, and I looked behind me to see Cecilia’s head peaking out. “Um, I’m in my robe. I hate to ask, but could you dry my clothes?” she asked in her pixie voice.
I jumped up and ran over to her. She slipped from behind the door some more, wrapped in my luxury cotton robe. Her small frame was almost lost in its fabric.
“Sure, hand those to me. I’ll take care of them.”
I took the damp mess of clothing and took them over to the washer and drier. When I dropped them into the washe
r, I noticed her lacy pink panties.
My cock throbbed. The last thing I needed to do was go out there with a massive boner. I may have had a thing for her, but I wasn’t entirely sure if the feeling was mutual. I could get fired and—fuck, she wasn’t here. I grabbed them and sniffed them, inhaling the subtle smell of her musk. My cock twitched, and I knew I’d made a bad mistake.
The heat that coursed through my cock made me shiver.
I dropped her panties into the washer and turned it on. Before I could go back into the kitchen, I needed to fix this erection.
“Mr. Dent?” Cecilia called. “Mr. Dent?”
She was getting closer. Damn it.
“Wait right in the living room, Cecilia,” I called out, rushing to my other bathroom down the hall.
She turned the corner and bumped into me and my erection.
To make matters worse, her robe caught the edge of a table and slipped right off her. Her naked body was on display, conveniently in front of my burning arousal.
“Mr. Dent!” She gasped, looking at my bulging crotch and down to her naked body.
Nothing could be denied anymore. I took her into my arms and kissed her, savoring the pressure of her body against my hardening cock. She returned my kiss with fervor. That relieved me.
We bumped into the walls while Cecilia wrapped her legs around me and kissed me. I dug my erection onto her belly, enjoying the way she’d moan and call out my last name.
“No, darling, my name is George when we’re in here,” I hissed into her ear.
Her hard pink nipples pierced into my chest as we collided again for another kiss. I grabbed them and played with them, knowing how wet she’d get from the sensation.
“But, Mr.—George, you’re . . . we’re—”
“Hush,” I said. “Details later.”
We stumbled into the living room. There was no destination in mind, just somewhere soft where I could lay her so I could corrupt her sweet innocence.
I dumped her on the couch and opened her legs. Cecilia’s shyness took over, and she covered her pussy with her hands. Such delicate pink folds didn’t need to be covered.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s just . . . awkward having someone stare down there. Doesn’t it look funny to you?” she asked, her hands still covering her wetness.
“No, now remove your hands,” I growled, unbuckling my belt. My cock demanded to be free, but while I was busy undoing my pants, I got down on my knees and shoved my tongue into her sweet dampness.
Cecilia’s body contorted with the sudden shock of pleasure. I held her legs down and continued to savor her taste and scent.
She was mine now, and after this semester, I was going to take her away to a life where she’d never get stuck in the rain again.
“G-George!” she gasped, her voice airy.
“Your pussy is sweet,” I mumbled into her, lapping at her hard clit.
“B-but,” she stuttered, “I–I’ve never done this before,” she cried out.
A virgin? I wasn’t surprised. I would’ve been disappointed if it were any other way. Cecilia was kept pure, just for me.
“Good, then you’ll be one of the few to experience your first time with a real man. I’ll take good care of you, darling,” I cooed, stroking my fingers on the outside of her pussy lips.
She shivered and moved her hips.
“Do you want more, dear?” I asked, teasing her clit and stroking my leaking cock.
Cecilia's eyes were locked on my cock like it was a grand prize. A look of awe sparkled in her eyes with a spark of worry as well.
"C–can that fit?" she asked, covering her breasts.
That was tempting me to tease them again.
"Of course. I'll go slow," I said, stroking her thigh.
Her thighs shuddered together, and I knew she was nervous. What was I doing? Cecilia needed more than this.
I was supposed to be her professor, not her lover. Her body still quivered for my touch, so I decided to drag myself over her and move her arms away from her breasts to expose her round, thick nipples. I hoped playing with them would ease her mind. Sex wasn't supposed to be a tense activity.
Her nipple crinkled at the touch of my tongue, tugging at her pale delicate skin around it.
My cock bumped against my stomach, begging to slide into her and rid itself of its hardness.
It was on fire, burning to taste the inside of her wetness.
Every suck and nibble on her breasts made her jolt and gasp with tiny moans thrown in.
I had to balance myself since we were doing this on the couch. As long as Cecilia was comfortable, I was fine.
My cock shot off an angry throb that felt like it was broken. I ground myself onto her mound, giving her a taste of what was to come.
"Mr. D–Dent!" she gasped.
"No, no, darling. It's George here," I corrected.
Knock, Knock.
Cecilia looked toward the door, worry flashing in her eyes like a floodlight. "Were you expecting someone?" she whispered.
I ignored the knocking, instead paying attention to how good her nipples felt in my mouth and the softness of her mound against my rigid cock.
"No, ignore it."
The knocks turned into angry banging.
Cecilia shifted under me, uncomfortable with the loud banging. "They don't sound so happy," she said, covering her breasts again.
I didn't appreciate the presence of someone at my door making Cecilia feel uncomfortable. The banging sounded . . . possessive, as if it were an angry wife or something. I never married, so that wasn't the case.
I got up and stomped over to the door when I saw Ms. Hawthorne through the peephole, banging away.
"George! George Dent! I know you're home. I need to talk to you!" she said through gritted teeth. I stood there staring at her, seeing if she'd give up and go away. But she was persistent. She even got up close to the peep hole. I covered it with my hand and stepped back.
This woman had lost her mind. What was her infatuation with me?
Cecilia tip-toed up behind me, and I placed a finger against my lips.
"Go to my room," I whispered into her ear.
She nodded her head. But before going, she whispered in mine, "That sounds like Ms. Hawthorne. Is it?"
I nodded my head, and she scampered off to my room, picking up her robe on the way.
My knob started jiggling and turning.
"Ms. Hawthorne?" I said, keeping my hand firmly on the knob.
"George! Open up! I need to speak with you."
"Ms. Hawthorne, I'm busy! We can discuss this at school!"
She frowned. "I can't hear you. Did you say wait a minute?"
Ms. Hawthorne knew damn well I didn't say that. After I tucked my cock back into my pants and zipped them up, I cracked my door open, making the foolish mistake of not putting on the chain.
She barged right in, looking around my apartment like a thief in the night.
"Ms. Hawthorne, have you lost your mind? I don't remember inviting you inside! Please leave, immediately."
Her fists were balled, and she was wet from the rain. It looked good on Cecilia, but horrible on this dry, dead woman. She lacked character. No drive or insight. Nothing feminine at all.
"I saw her," she mumbled.
"Say again?" I asked, walking up to her.
She whipped around and met my gaze. "I saw her with you. That's why she came to get that marker back, wasn't it? You're seeing a student!" she cried.
We had no relationship. What was she getting dramatic for?
"Ms. Hawthorne, no one's here." I folded my arms and inhaled and exhaled sharply. "Leave or else I'll notify the school about this!"
"What was she doing with you today?"
"She forgot her textbook. Look, I will call the police."
At the mention of the police, she scampered out of my apartment like a wet rat.
Her choice of perfume was bad, and she always wore dark colors. In the b
ack of my mind, I highly doubted that I was the first man she did this to at the university. I was sure that some other unfortunate professors had gotten caught up in her foolishness.
But that just went to show me how my and Cecilia’s being together during this semester was dangerous. Even for tutoring.
I need to keep this scholarship. Her words echoed through my head.
That was the only reason I took this risk. I locked the door and walked into my room to check on Cecilia. She was busy looking at a rock collection of mine on the wall.
I watched her for a minute or two, taking in the scene of her in my bedroom. She belonged there more than the furniture that sat there.
"Do you like crystals?" I asked, coming up behind her.
“Yes. A lot. You're a fan of topaz, I see. And quartz. Common, yet so many types.”
“So, where were we?”
"Tutoring," she said, keeping her eyes on my collection.
"Yes, tutoring. Let me see if your clothes are ready yet. Stay here, make yourself at home."
"Thank you," she said, flashing me an innocent smile. I was moving too fast for her.
But I was already knee-deep in.
I spent two hours tutoring Cecilia. We went through things that I already taught and things I was going to teach later in the next two weeks.
I wanted her to be prepared for the future, so I gave her a sneak peek at my class plans.
While I graded papers, she sat silently at a desk in my dining room, absorbing what I had taught her. I could tell it was beginning to marinate with her. It wasn't like she didn't know. She just missed a few steps in her calculations.
I've seen this type of distraction before. It was usually because of stress.
Cecilia completed her problems I gave her to work on and it was nightfall. The rain was still pouring and glints of lightning lit the sky.
"It's okay, it's not as bad as earlier today. I can walk back."
Ms. Hawthorne may have shaken us up, but I wasn't going to ditch her.
"No, stay overnight."
Cecilia frowned. "What about Ms. Haw—”
"Don't think about her. I can handle that. I have a guest room."
I showed her to a room and made sure she was well-fed before going to bed.
