The Mistress - an Erotic Noir Novel

by J. E. Keep

  She remained sprawled on the couch for only a moment before she fumbled for her panties, quickly sealing his cum between her thighs with a fluttering of her lashes. She liked the strange, cool wetness as she pulled her skirt down, knowing she stank of sex.

  “When are your office hours?”

  “Between one and four,” he said, though added as he straightened his tie and shirt, “but for you I would arrange to be open later in the evening.” He flashed her a wink.

  She grinned, collecting her spilled makeup and closing her purse. With her hat back on her head, her stockings rolled up, and her skirt ending down below her knees she looked almost prim but for the fact that her breasts were still on prominent display, “I don’t know the missus would like that, Professor.”

  Taking a step in closer, he reached his hand up with that very same ring upon it and very brazenly cupped one of those large breasts, lifting its heavy weight as he spoke to her in a low, firm voice. “That’ll just be between you and I then, won’t it?”

  “I don’t see why not, though I expect that good behaviour will positively influence my grades,” she purred with her lidded gaze set upon his.

  That smile of his widened and he stroked his thumb over her large breast along to the areola, again and again. “Good girl,” he said, “I think we know exactly how to get along, hmm?” With a wry smirk he leaned down and nipped her neck again before whispering, “Come to my office without any panties on if you wish a good grade next time.”

  Her hand brushed through his hair as she stepped away, those pink areolas puckered before she reached down and grabbed her bra. “I will see what I can do about making that timely,” her lips quirked, her eyes tracing over his face. “Still, it was nice getting to know you a bit better.”

  “Likewise,” he said, finishing his own preparations and then laying a hand against the swell of her ass, cupping the round flesh of it through her skirt. “To a long working relationship together, yes?”

  She laughed quite jovially as she moved and unlocked the door, “Is that your version of shaking on it, Professor Russell? Or is that just how they do things in the old world?”

  With a final adjustment of his tie he winked to her then followed her out into the hall, the two of them then making their way on back. Arriving there, only Martin Hale remained, the meek blonde man in his sweater and bowtie sipping a tonic water as he had been all night by the door. “Turing’s left,” he said simply.

  Walking over to him, she patted his arm rather familiarly. “Ah, and yet you waited, no doubt bored out of your mind. The picture of a decent man,” she said, though the compliment sounded almost like a tease.

  Russell gathered up his coat and hat, “At that I believe I should be off too,” he said, giving them both a pleasant smile, seeming perfectly normal and showing no sign of their recent debauchery. “You two have a pleasant evening,” he said, flashing them a wink, treating the two as if they were a couple.

  Martin, looking bashful, gave her a meek look. “Are you alright?” he asked after Russell left.

  “When have I ever not been all right, hm?” she grinned teasingly, taking some time to pull a compact from her purse and fix her lipstick, “That man sure does think a lot of himself though, I can tell you that.”

  Looking after Russell for just a moment he sipped his tonic water then laid the cup down on the shelf just inside the door. “They all do,” he said, “you’d be best off keeping a distance with them,” he offered unsolicited.

  “You’ve said that about every man in my life,” she chided, clasping her mirror and pushing it away. “Now, are we going to stay here all night or are you going to be a gentleman and take me home?”

  Nodding to her without hesitation he took her own coat off the hanger and helped her get it on, “Sorry,” he said in apology, as if he should have anticipated her need. “I just worry for you is all,” he intoned so familiarly.

  “It’s fine, Martin. I know how to handle guys like him. Come on, this is my third year, it’s not like it’s new to me,” she slipped her arms through the silken lining of her winter’s coat. “Now, did Turing seem fine? I’d rather not have him trying to sabotage my efforts at graduation.”

  With a sigh the young man slipped her coat on and got her scarf before retrieving his own. “He was stewing about Dr. Russell, that’s all really,” he said. “The two obviously don’t like one another,” he offered. “But then none of them do. That’s the sort of people they are.”

  “That’s the kind of people we love and surround ourselves with,” she pat his chest before moving and exiting the room, “besides, it’s so hard to like them. Really like them, I mean,” she looked at her friend, giving a small shrug. “They’re so egotistical they barely know how to interact with others.”

  With his own brown coat on he moved to get the door for her, ready to guide her along the familiar path to her apartment across the dark, snowy campus.

  Chapter 2

  One Week Later

  The first day of classes was also the last day of the week, which came as a great relief to many. Though as Eva made her way down the hall towards her final class of the day—the introduction to her fourth year psychology class with Dr. Sinclair—she saw the familiar visage of the smartly dressed man, his coat on and tying his scarf into place, heading towards the exit rather than away to the class itself.

  “You lost, young man?” she called out cordially, her smart pea coat buttoned down to her thighs. It was a royal blue which perfectly complimented the navy of her skirt, her dark stockings and calf high, button up boots completing the look. A matching hat was affixed to her dark hair, and her red lips were obviously freshly made up.

  His attention caught immediately, he turned towards her and she saw a flash of recognition, not only for her but her lovely attire, and the care she went through for her appearance. “Eva,” he said, smiling as he approached her. “How lovely I got a chance to see you before class,” he said, so soft spoken and formal around others.

  “I’m afraid I shall have to miss today’s class,” he said, some other worry seeming to creep into his handsome, movie-star good looks. For that’s what he reminded her of, some strikingly dashing elder gentleman that belonged with his silver hair upon the silver screen.

  She frowned, looking truly disappointed. There wasn’t any wryness or cleverness to the look, her brown eyes instantly turning to one of concern as she stared, “What’s wrong? Surely you wouldn’t miss the first day for no good reason. It’s not like you’re a first year professor.”

  With a light laugh he looked to her and gave a comforting smile, finishing doing up his jacket. “It’s just the introductory class,” he explained, “but no, I wouldn’t blow it off for just anything. However,” he hesitated just a moment, “something’s come up. I have to go home and resolve something before tonight’s party with Mrs. Sinclair,” he said, the topic shift perking his interest, “You will be there, won't you?” he asked, and she could make out a little twinkle of something in his gaze as he tilted his head at her. Always so subtle.

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” she smiled brightly, looking relieved that he didn’t seem terribly troubled, though concern still knitted her shoulders, “Well, I suppose that means class is cancelled. Did you need my help with whatever it is?”

  Waving his hand he said, “Nonsense. I have my assistant filling in for me,” he said and as her eyes peered down the hall to the class door she could see it was Martin carrying in an attaché case and looking ready to fill in. “Though, of course, he’ll only be saying a few things I have prepared, and outlining the syllabus,” he explained.

  Leaning in he whispers, though mostly just for effect, “If you care to skip it, don’t feel bad. You can just get the sheets from me later,” he smiled. “I really should be going though, Miss Perkin’s,” he said all formal, though the smile he gave was just for her and somewhat personal. “Have yourself a lovely day.

  She nodded, taking a step back, “Well, I�
��ll be seeing you shortly. Best of luck with your secrets,” she teased, the double entendre slipping through with an easy, simple smile. “I’d hate to miss the chance to catch him at the podium, but I’ll expect a refresher from you later. Just to make sure he did it right.”

  With a light laugh he waved and headed off out the door.

  Before she could reach the classroom to listen to her meek friend outline the semesters agenda, however, another familiar face turned up. Three years her senior and nearly a foot taller, the brown haired behemoth gave her a gleaming smile. Never one for over dressing, the muscle bound jock she’d known since middle school approached her in a tight short sleeved shirt and pants, looking like he’d not bothered to change much from his time at the track that day. Typical.

  “Eva,” he said her name in a groan, his deep voice so familiar after all these years. “I need to get out of here,” he said to her as he approached, leaving her able to make out all the ridges of hard, stony muscle beneath that thin white cloth as the brown eyed man gazed at her. He had a wide jaw and was clean shaven, the stuff of every girl’s fantasies, but he was remarkably humble considering, at least around her.

  For an instant she was transported back to being that small, shy girl who spent so much time lusting after him before she returned to being the adult that had helped him get into the school in the first place.

  Her smarmy grin teased her lips as she stared up at him, “Your first day back and already you’re blowing off classes?” she tut tutted. “You’re going to get yourself in trouble again, and who’ll bail you out, huh?”

  Brushing against her shoulder he circled around her, his head bent a bit. “C’mon,” he said in that deep voice of his, “I need you to rescue me again, teach.” He’d long ago began referring to her as ‘teach’, and not only in the heat of the moment, though that’s how it began. “I’ve got some tryouts this evening and if I don’t have a clear head I’ll be toast,” he said, though he managed to make even whining sound appealing with that brutishly husky voice of his. Ducking his head down nearer to her level he implored again, “C’mon. I’ll make you sing.” A wry grin formed on his face filled with promise.

  He forced a smile to her lips, though she tried to hide it beneath a scowl and a sigh, “Fine, well. My Professor can’t come anyways, so I guess there’s no harm in helping an old friend out. After all, it seems pretty dire.” She could smell him, and she knew it was doing strange things to her mind, the way he always did.

  With a toothy grin for her, the large man reached out, taking her hand. “C’mon then, teach. Your place or mine?” he said with a cheeky grin as he led her back towards the door into the light snowfall outside. “I was thinkin’ about you all damn day,” he said, and she knew he was being honest. The man had no grace with flattery, nor any desire to lie; he could get most anything he wanted without it, so it was just not a talent he developed. He simply had some amount of respect and adoration for her that had developed over their time together.

  “Your grades fall, you think of me! You need a quick lay, you think of me!” she teased as she stayed with his steps, “And we’ll go to my place. I’m not in the mood to run into your little roommate.”

  The snow fell lovingly around her shoulders and hair, giving her quite a lovely pink glow to her cheeks.

  With his broad grin he looked down at her as they walked side by side. “Damn,” he began a bit breathily, “you’re somethin’ else for a dame, y’know that?” Her place wasn’t far, it was an upstairs apartment rented from a little old lady that was near deaf and blind, and never heard her come or go as such.

  Still, she was careful not to be spotted as she ushered him in, making her way through the rather homey little spot. It was clean and bright, if it weren’t for all the books strewn everywhere. Bookshelf after bookshelf stuffed with leather tomes and half trashed paperbacks as she went into the kitchen and immediately put on the kettle. Taking off her gloves, she set them aside and began unbuttoning her jacket, “So what are you auditioning for?”

  Allen dumped his books haphazardly onto a pile of her own, thereby nearly guaranteeing he’d forget or lose them. With a shrug of his heavy set shoulders he leaned over the counter top and looked her over as the jacket slowly came undone, “Wrestling,” he said absentmindedly. “They had to put it off late because the weather’s kept other teams using the gym spaces.”

  “Ah,” she smiled, and her mind went far away for a moment before she blinked away the fog, “Well that sounds enchanting.” It wasn’t quite the word she would have normally used, but the way she said it made it sound much filthier.

  Placing her snow touched jacket onto the back of the chair, her navy skirt clung to her stomach and her dark, silken blouse emphasised her full chest. “So I guess you’ll need help keeping your grades up again.”

  The massively tall man’s eyes were glued to her, watching her strip away the heavy outer coat to reveal the round curves of what lay beneath. It took him a moment to snap out of it and realize she asked a question, “Huh?” he began before it sank in. “Oh yeah,” he said, nodding and standing back up.

  Moving to her he rubbed a hand over her shoulder and its blade, “Hey, when have I ever not needed your help, doll?” He asked with a wide, toothy grin, the handsome devil looking his best, all radiant with joy. “And you’re more than welcome to come watch me wrestle. Y’know, just don’t flash me or nothin’ during, because results could get embarrassing,” for most that would’ve been a joke, but he was serious.

  “You’re so crass,” she groaned, but the flush that rose to her cheeks said far more. “And I don’t think it’d be wise being seen there,” she teased, feeling his heated body move against hers.

  She removed her hat and primly fixed the waves of her hair, laying them just so against her forehead. She almost glowed around her old friend, and it was embarrassing just how much she lusted for him.

  Any embarrassment was alleviated by the fact the handsome devil was utterly in awe of her and equally as lusty it seemed, for he brought his thick strong arms around her, holding her in the kitchen and pressing that remarkably large bulge against her hip and thigh.

  “Yeah I know,” he said in his deep, loud voice, leaning down and sniffing at her hair. Whereas she enjoyed his masculine musk, he enjoyed her feminine scents, getting off on her more classic, womanly beauty over the boyish flapper style of the time. “I wouldn’t dream of ruinin’ your reputation, teach.”

  “That’s why this works so well,” she whispered back in his ear. Her clothing was becoming so uncomfortable, warm and constraining against her stiffening nipples and her dampening sex. Feeling him press into her sent that familiar thrill down her back and her hands ran up his biceps, “You know, you don’t always need to find me just when you need something,” she purred. “I need help once in a while, too.”

  Her breasts pressed against his chest, and her wide eyes fluttered close, revelling in the closeness and the intimacy. The anticipation always drove her wild, and there was more than once that she had sought him out in high school because she couldn’t concentrate on her own studies. Lately, however, she’d been too busy to hunt him down, especially as she enchanted more of the intriguing older men she was surrounded by.

  Something about Allen, however, struck her in a way the professors did not.

  Whereas they personified experience, intelligence and grace, he was youth, vigor and raw masculinity. With those thick, strong arms of his around her, it was hard to ignore, especially as he palmed both of her round ass cheeks in his hands, squeezing and pulling her skirt up a few inches with his greedy motions.

  Brushing his clean shaven jaw against her skin he gave her earlobe a bite and husked, “How about you gimme a key then so I can pop in and tend to your needs in the middle of the night?” She could imagine the man, drunk and horny, paying her many a visit under such a scenario and her heart quickened with desire.

  She was going to make some snide comment, yet she was surpris
ed by how the offer had stolen her voice. She swallowed the dryness away and the only thing she could manage out was a moan of delight. Her skirt was tight around her thick thighs, but the silken stockings aided it up, and she felt his digits grace across the cusp of her zaftig behind.

  Her hands stroked along his chest more eagerly, her dark lashes fluttering down over her brown eyes as her cheeks burned with excitement.

  The kettle was whistling its shrill peel as he dug into her. He could be such a brute, and his groping hands and hard body pushed her back towards the counter top. He was hungry for her, and didn’t seem intent to wait upon her to decide anything or direct them, he wanted her then and there, and as he pushed her against the cupboards, he was already bending down to scoop her up beneath her thighs and lift her onto its smooth top as his mouth gnawed and suckled at her skin.

  She quickly silenced the kettle, ignoring it as she felt the winter chill ebb from her body. He had provided her with something far better than a warm drink, and her mouth went to his with equalled passion, shimmying her skirt up in order to spread her legs around his waist.

  Eva’s breathing was hot against his jaw line, down his throat and to his Adam’s apple, her nerves standing on edge with the way he stoked her fires so well. He was an expert at playing with her body, she had long ago discovered, and the strong man could feel her soft form beg for him.

  With such a mighty, low roar of pleasure, he kissed her back with that intense, animal desire he always had for her. Those strong hands of his rubbed her thick thighs, stroking over them and in under her skirt, pushing it up against her stomach as he very diligently pet her quim through the garment. As big and brutish as he was, as dull as he could be on academic subjects, he was a devoted student in bed, and always sought out ways to please her no matter his own intense need.