CHAPTER SIX
The next time I had my creative writing class, I was ready. I came forearmed with questions for my professor, and they weren't even because he was a deadly sexy silver fox. This wasn't going to be idol flirting, I had things I wanted from this man. I wanted answers, and he was going to give them to me.
Approaching my professor moments after I entered the room, I cut over the girl who had been talking to him as if she wasn't even there, "Can I have a few moments after class?" I asked.
David smiled a genuine and warm smile and told me, "Of course. As long as you're happy to walk and talk."
I nodded, "Yes, I am happy to walk and talk." I told him.
David smiled and told me, "Perfect. We can do that then."
I smiled all the way to my seat, then when I was seated I looked up to see the same Dublin girl who had been so upset the first time she caught me talking to David. He wasn't looking so I gave her a little wave and a wink. She returned these by shooting me dagger stares and turning back to the professor to ask him a few more inane questions.
Not caring one bit, I opened my note book and arranged my things on a table to take notes. The girl eventually sat down and the class began.
Sitting through that class was an odd sensation for me. I wanted so much to have the conversation we were going to have after class already, but knew better. I would need to wait. I thought ahead, then pulled myself back into the present.
I was here, I had to take these notes. It was a much more important class for me than it had been the last time I was here.
By the time class drew to a close I had scribbled down more notes than I ever had before and was feeling energized from all of the new information. There was so much here, so many interesting things I was learning in these classes to take forward. Now I felt a little more of a sense of direction.
When class was over, I packed everything into my bag and approached David, who was closing down his computer and collecting his things. There was several female students around him with their questions. He seemed even less engaged and interested in them than usual, mostly shrugging them and their behaviour off as he packed everything up in preparation for our 'walk and talk'.
The girls dissipated and David and I went for our walk. It was a very short walk but I managed to tell him everything I had been thinking. I told him all about how I thought his idea of changing major was a good one, and in fact I had been thinking the same thing myself. I told him about how I hadn't wanted to change my major originally because I didn't want to upset anyone back home but that after talking to someone who loved their job, I knew I had to change it because I knew I wouldn't love being a lawyer, and I wanted to have that love for my career.
David nodded along to everything I was telling him then after I had made my case for a change of major he asked me, "So, why are you telling me all of this?"
That stopped me in my tracks, "What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well, why do you think it's so important to tell me about your change of major? We hardly know one another and you won't be my student if you choose to be a writer anyway." He told me.
The thought hadn't occurred to me. Even as I knew I would be going home sometime, it never quite felt real. You can know something is happening intellectually but never quite realise it when you were going about your day normally. This was one of those times.
I realised that I would have to leave Ireland soon enough, but I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want it to be real that I would be leaving so much that I had been imagining me studying writing in Ireland forever.
What was I thinking?
I sighed and told David, "I don't know, I guess I just wanted to tell you. To get your opinion. Do you think I am on the right track?" I asked, feeling very humble about my questions.
David scrunched up his face and made a noise before asking me, "What do you want?"
"But my family back in the states -"I began, about to circle around and tell him about what my family wanted and all the reasons that I would be better off not being a lawyer.
"No." David stopped me with his word as if it was a giant red stop sign, "I am asking what you want. Not what someone else wants, not what someone else thinks might be good for you, just what you want." He stopped before looking me in the eye. Those big, beautiful blue Irish eyes stopped me in my tracks. "What do you want?"
"You." I said before I could stop the word coming from my mouth. Then, after I had said it, I told him, "I want you. I want to stay here in Ireland. I want to be a writer."
We were standing outside David's office when I said it. Without another word, he opened his office door and motioned for me to get inside.
Once we were both inside, he closed the door and he was on me.
He was kissing me so hard and so frenzied that I could hardly think. I just kissed him right back, feeling the need to stop the distance that had always been between us. Not since we first met, but since I had first seen him in that bar. Since I had first seen him outside the role of my professor. Since I had seen him as a man for the very first time.
But he was my professor, and I shouldn't be kissing him now. The pull of doing things that I shouldn't be doing was enough to drive me further, to drive me harder.
I was taking off his sweater, then touching the skin of his chest. His chest was taunt. Actually, his whole upper body was. Underneath those professor clothes, his body was hard and ready for play.
He pinned me against the wall then and moved his hands up my thighs to where they met in the middle at my pussy.
He pushed my panties to the side and started rubbing me. My pussy was already wet. I wondered how long I had been wet, waiting for him to do that. Had I been wet in class? When I first saw him? When I thought about him on my way to class? Maybe I had just gotten wet while we walked when I was so close to him that I could smell his sweet manly scent.
Now he was so close to me he was all I could smell.
He pushed his fingers up inside me and thrusted them into my body. It felt like teasing, like he was showing me how good it would feel to be penetrated by him later, but I had waited so long for this that I didn't care one little bit.
I just kissed him. He kissed me back. I moaned, he touched my body.
Then he was down on his knees in front of me, pulling my panties down and throwing them somewhere across the floor before pulling my dress up so he could lick me.
In this position, one I had originally thought might be awkward, he seemed to know exactly what he was doing. He positioned himself and my body perfectly so he could lick me while fucking me with his fingers.
As I stood before him with the pleasure mounting, I was blown away by the skill of this man. This felt fantastic, better than anything I had ever had before. I guess it's true what they say about age breeding experience because this guy had plenty of experience. Or at least he had enough to know how to get a girl off.
And there he was, getting me off more than I could have imagined he would. His fingers were thrusting into me, his tongue on my clit. He was bringing me closer and closer to orgasm. He was delivering me to pleasure and ecstasy. I could hardly keep myself from falling forward onto his face as I came in a gushing orgasm. I was gushing all over his floor, and as I came I couldn't stop that, no matter how much I wanted to. The look on his face told me that was exactly what he meant to happen.
The feeling of it was something that I had never felt before. Most of my orgasms are waves of pleasure, this one was something else, it was like those waves had crashed on the shore on top of one another and each was building on the other.
I moaned, I called out. He was standing in front of me, kissing me. His lips were on mine as if to stop me from calling out. He wanted to stop me from making more noise and calling attention to what we had been doing in his office. As he kissed me, too, he moved me out of the corner of the room where he had been giving me all that pleasure until I was in front of his desk.
"You ready for more?" He asked me as we shared another kiss and I moaned, "Oh god yes!"
Then right before he could bend me over his desk there was a knock at his door.
"Professor? Sir?" Called a high female voice. It was an Irish accent. My mood sank like a stone as I realised who it would probably be.
David sighed and looked down at me. I looked up at him. I was sure we were both thinking the same thing. We were both thinking that we could just pretend not to be here and she might go away, but as if reading our minds she spoke again.
"I know you're in their professor. I saw the two of you walking this way before." She said.
We both heaved a sigh of relief and David took a few steps to pick up my panties from the floor and give them to me. I slipped them on and he opened the door to ask the jealous girl what was up.
"You left this." She said, handing him a laptop case.
David took it off her and before he had a chance to thank her she told both of us, "And I know what you were doing in here. You're not allowed to do that on university property you know." Her face was that of every annoying righteous girl in every Hollywood movie ever. She knew she was in the right and she didn't care who knew it.
"Thank you." He told her holding up the laptop bag, even though it was a little redundant considering what the girl had just threatened.
The girl turned on her heel and left.
Without closing the door, David turned towards me, "You had better go to." He told me, "You have class, don't you?"
I swallowed and nodded, "Irish History." I told him, my voice coming out quieter than I meant for it to.
David nodded his head and told me it was okay, he would clean up. I followed where his eyes were pointed and looked over at the little puddle in the side of the room. When I looked back, David was smiling at me and I felt a little embarrassed, but not as badly as I would with other people. I didn't feel like David was judging me for gushing all over his floor, but rather like he was making a point to me that needed to be made. He would get rid of the evidence, I had no reason to feel concerned. I should just go to class and get on with my day.
We shared a smile and I gave David a little kiss on the cheek before I left. I was half way to Irish History when I realised I hadn't got his number, or even made clear to him that perhaps I didn't just want a casual thing with him, and that I did think he was pretty cool.
But then sometimes real life stories are not as neat as they were in Hollywood movies. I wasn't in America anymore after all. America is the land of Hollywood movies. Ireland, apparently, is the land of huge life changes and gushing all over your professor's floor.