It was sweet, soft, and a little wet, but it was beautiful. He caressed my cheek as I closed my eyes. Davis was a gentle person who I had longed for some time. I had never felt something with so much desire behind it in my entire life. No matter how wrong I knew it was, I simply could not resist. For all of a second the barren walls melted away. The pale blue walls were like a skyline on a cloudless day. His desk was covered in unread papers and others with big red circles and markings. One picture lived among the chaos, one that I had seen many times before. I wanted nothing more than to erase that image from my mind’s eye.
I am only 17 but very mature for these college runabouts that I lived with. Even though seen as timid, I never fold easily to anyone’s wants, influence, or wishes. A history and literature major with a minor in philosophy, how fun was all that? My roommate, Ellen, is a philosophy major who never understood my interests in anything I did outside of philosophy. She is bit older than I at the age of 19.
“You missed class today,” proclaimed Ellen dragging herself into the room.
“Yeah I did but with good reason.”
“I can’t wait to hear this one,” flapping back into the couch turning her eyes my direction.
I fumbled with the papers in my hand looking down at the floor. Was I to be ashamed of what I did? Was I to tell her at all? In seconds all of this ran through my mind wondering if lying was best. Having started the story, I couldn’t turn back. Ellen cleared her throat causing me to jump back into reality.
“Well it all started last night when Dr. Thomas called me to his office. It was…..”
Dr. Davis Thomas had been teaching at Harding University for over ten years. He is a very principled, kind, gentle man; he would do anything for his students. Dr. Thomas is a philosophy and Roman History professor. His deep blue eyes and winning smile won the heart of every female student. There was just something about the way he spoke and walked that beckoned the eyes that followed him everywhere he went. He has the alluring physique of tennis superstar, Rafael Nadal, with the charm of Prince Charming himself. Like every other professor he has Teaching Assistances; I was fortunate enough to be one of them. Davis, as he insisted I call him, is a loving husband and father of two. I use to babysit for them when he and his wife, Marion, went out.
Last Thursday we wrote a paper on Plato’s Republic for class. He said he needed to see me in his office to discuss my paper. I thought nothing of it, as I should. No matter how alluring he was, I never broke. My packed schedule complimented by his made it impossible for me to see him before 7 pm. I hurried off to his office so as not to keep him. I arrived out of breath, panting, searching for air to fill my lungs.
“I’m sorry for being so late,” bursting through the doors of his office.
“Oh, it is alright Elizabeth; I mean Liz. It looks as though you need to rest before we discuss your paper.” He glides to a water cooler across from his desk and pours me a glass. Even in doing something so simple, he is beautiful. As I sipped, he resumed his seat of power behind the grand oak desk. Davis had never been one for much wall decoration; he said it could only distract the mind.
“Had you been running to get here? Seems these new tight styles restrict breathing,” he said looking up at me. My face turned three shades of red as I smiled and sank my head to the floor.
“Oh did not mean that I w—was lo—looking, but” muttered him turning eyes to his desk. My hand went up stopping him there.
“I know what you meant Sir.”
“Call me Davis. I’ve must have told you this a million times,” he seemed still uncomfortable in himself.
“That’s a nice picture, and I really like the frame,” I said changing the subject to calm the mood.
“Yes, Marion and the girls really looked nice here,” there was a certain sorrow as he spoke.
“How are they? I miss babysitting them.”
“They are all fine,” turning his eyes back to the papers in front of him. He started to shuffle them around seeming disheveled in thought.
“Are you looking for something?”
“Yes, your paper. You brought some interesting themes that I thought strayed a little from the topic,” he said keeping his eyes pinned to his desk. I went behind him to help him find the paper.
“What theme would you be referring to?” standing over his shoulders.
“Sexuality. The Republic was simply about political forms.” His eyes did not move, as I rose from next to him. I quickly returned to the search.
“Ah! Here it is. You must now defend your position to me.” He turned looking up to me. I stared back dead in his eyes. My mind was vacant and my lips dry. My tight white shirt felt even tighter with my heart bursting out the centre.
“I—I’m,” I smiled not knowing what to say.
“I will give you two days to prepare as you seem to be a little lost in thought,” he said rising from his seat.
“Oh thank you Davis,” flinging my arms around him having forgotten myself. I pulled back quickly dropping my head.
“It’s okay; I would have hugged me too”
“It’s just that I wasn’t prepared, and you looked at me—” I stopped short of forgetting myself again and letting my emotions and fantasies control my speech. I turned to the door without him speaking again. “Goodnight.”
“Wait a second,” he muttered as I placed my hand onto the knob. Turning, I saw him advance towards me with my paper in hand. “How did I look at you?”
“I didn’t mean. I’m sorry Sir, but you know many of your students find you,” I stopped thinking about what I was about to say.
“Attractive?” he said piercing my eyes. I nodded and smiled. “And you feel this way as well?”
“I am human Sir.”
“I told you, call me Davis,” he crept closer to me almost trapping me against the door. He extended his right arm and massaged it against my left. It felt awkward for a moment then a numb longing took over. I raised my left hand caressing his cheek. My breathing slowed as my eyes ran back and forth along his curves. Hearing the paper crash to the ground, I waited for him to make the next move. He moved both hands to my cheeks staring deeply into my eyes. Licking my lips, he came in for the finish. I stopped breathing pushing all my power into my lips. He pulled me closer, massaging my tongue gently with his. I opened my eyes and for the first time in a while saw him look happy. He pushed me against the door, and I wrapped my legs around his muscular body.
“What are we doing?” he muttered as we took a second to breathe.
“I do—don’t know,” I said between breaths. He pressed his lips against mine again. We both panted staring at the other. With my legs still locked around his waist, he started to take of my shirt.
Kissing my chest, I started to flare in passion. He slowly unhooked my bra, turning his attention to my breast. I wanted to cry and scream in excitement all at once. I wanted to block out that picture on the desk’ imagining it was never there. I tried hard to remember who prophesied euphoria in touch, but it eluded my sensually filled mind. Setting me down on my feet, I started to unbutton his blue and white strip shirt. I loosened his paisley tie, a favorite of mine. My hands massaged against his perfect abs with my tongue following the path lead by fingers. Davis trembled in satisfaction, as his breaths became shallower. His eyes were tightly shut soaking up the enjoyment of my stroke. I started to unbuckle his black leader belt when he touched my hands stopping me.
“What’s wrong,” I giggled looking up into strange eyes.
“What are we doing? You—you are my student, my TA.”
I turned hiding myself and picking up my clothes. Tears rolled precariously from my now red eyes.
“You are right. I best leave,” I whispered trying to hide my tears. I dressed never looking back at him. I felt as if all the air had left my body, as I gasped between sobs outside his door. I sank to the floor in an indescribable pain that tore through my heart. I barely pulled myself to my feet and—
“You almost slept with him?” she cut into the story now on her feet. That brought me back to the reality of what I was about to do. You hear about students who sleep with professors for grades, but what would I have been getting out of this? Share pleasure? Tears surfaced again.
“I don’t know why I did any of it,” I said taking a breath to calm myself.
“Wow! I never saw this one coming from you. Welcome to college life!”
“No! No! No! I’m not her,” I shouted.
“Not who?”
“That girl who—who goes around sleeping with teachers. I had a moment of weakness, became too confident in myself.”
“Well you were about to Liz,” giggled Ellen.
“Ellie that’s not even funny.”
“C’mon it is a little funny,” she said moving to the refrigerator.
“Well I’m not laughing. I can’t even look at that man anymore. I can’t be his TA anymore. I’m sorry I ever put myself there. I can’t ever be alone with him ever again.”
“Oh you’ll both get over it. It was moment of weakness for you both,” she said with confidence sipping on some water.
“Am I that dumb and blind? Am I? Am I? I just stood there and let myself believe that what was about to happen was good. I looked right at the picture of his wife. HIS WIFE, Ellie!”
“I’m sure he didn’t run home and tell her.”
I couldn’t take the banter any longer; it was all taking a drain on me. I retired to my bed burying my head in my pillow. Then I let loose a scream that could shatter glass. Tears fought their way back to my eyes ready to roll down my cheeks. A cheek he had only 24 hours ago caressed with cold hands. A cheek he kissed gently leading towards lips. My lips were now frozen and abandoned. My eyes have become vacant of all feeling. A heart that once pounded with zeal now lay beaten by the blows even my mind caused. I can now only sit at the back of the class and never ask a question, answer a question, or make a comment. I have become dumb after touching the forbidden.
©2009 – V. A. Coote