THREE.

Isabelle

The weekend passed in a hazy blur. With everything that happened on Saturday with Annabelle and my parents -who entered the highway in the middle of the night when we informed them about sending Anna back to rehab- coupled with the whole encounter with Preston, the last thing I want is for the week to begin so quickly. But it has and I have no choice but to continue life like nothing happened.

This morning began bad already with me pouring coffee on my first choice of outfit and breaking my heel, making me late for my first class. But instead of throwing a blanket over my body and eating ice cream as I wanted, I fought against myself and made my way to school.

Hurrying into the staff building, I brisk past my colleagues, giving them curt nods and brief ‘hellos’ as I walk into my office. I am already late for my class by one minute and I don’t want to be any later than that. Because, how would I explain to the board that another reason for my being late was because I spent the night exploring my new dildo that I had stayed up all Saturday night shopping for online?

Getting into my office, I drop my bag, take my laptop and textbook and rush out. Four minutes later, I stand outside the door to the lecture hall and take a deep breathe. It is my first time handling a class of any kind and I am scared of how my students would perceive me.

Would they hate me for being too young a professor? Or would they appreciate that we were almost in the same age bracket? Will our class be cooperative and respectful? Or should I start applying for jobs elsewhere.

Taking another deep breath, I pull myself together and walk into the lecture hall. The once noisy class quiets down as I drop my laptop on the table and turn to face them.

“Isn’t Dr. M meant to take this class.” I hear a feminine voice call from behind and the class grows rowdy before quieting down again.

I smoothen the invisible wrinkles on my skirt and fold my arms in front of me as I nod.

“I thought you would have been informed by now but I guess you haven’t. Dr. M has been promoted to Faculty head and supervisor, meaning that there is a space where he left which someone is meant to fill, and that’s where I come in.” I search their faces as I speak, my heart racing with the knowledge of what I am to find. Or whom, rather.

I pray he doesn’t recognize me. He hadn’t believed when I told him I am a professor and I hope he runs with that idea in his head.

The class is a bit full, about 50 students scatter around the not-so-small lecture hall. I spot Oliver, who I have been told is Preston’s best friend and I know instantly that he who shall not be named wouldn’t be so far away.

“My name is Professor Isabelle Walsh and I would be your lecturer for Motion and Time-Based Media for the year.” I drag my eyes away from Oliver and my eyes lock with his.

Just two seats away from his best friend is seated Preston, with his arms and legs spread apart like he is sprawled out on a bed. And his brows, narrowed on me as if trying to figure me out. “If you can call me Professor Walsh, that would be just fine.” I add without looking away from him.

His brows are so narrowed I fear they would turn into themselves and disappear into his skull. We stare at each other for a couple more second before he fixes his position to lean on the desk and continues staring me down.

I drag my eyes away from him, walk back to my desk and fire up my laptop. “If that’s all the introduction, why don’t we get the class started.”

“Wait, hold on,” Lewis Stewart, the smartest member of the class as introduced by Dr. M speaks, his Scottish accent ringing throughout the classroom. “If you are a Professor , how are you so young! By the looks, you should at least be finishing you masters or at most beginning, your doctorate not qualified enough to teach the final years in this school. Don’t get me wrong, I’m asking only because I am concerned for my future.”

I chuckle, “Well Lewis, let’s just say I was a very very smart kid.”

Laughter erupts throughout the classroom as his classmates through jibs at him and soon enough we fall into our lectures. I introduce the topic for the first semester and give them a brief rundown on each topic before focusing on the first topic on our outline.

After two hours, our time finally ends and the students begin filtering out of the class.

“Make sure you have my email because that is where you’d be submitting all your assignments and whatnots.” I shout after them as they leave the class.

I gather my stuff to leave also but I notice a shadow over me. I look up and see Preston standing a just beside me, almost leaning into me. I look away immediately, pick my stuff and head for the door but he cuts to my front and blocking my exit.

“Isabelle Walsh.” His voice is low as he shuts the class door and steps closer to me. His cologne fill my nose. I breathe it in and appreciate the scent. It was manly and expensive, like something he must have gotten from one of his many trips to fancy countries.

“You know I didn’t believe you when you said you were a lecturer here. I mean I’ve heard students tell a lot of lies but I didn’t expect this lie, your lie, to be true. And not only is it true but you are my lecturer.”

I swallow thickly to keep myself from reliving the memories of Saturday night. It has been running through my mind -that was why I went in search of the dildo. Something I never imagined myself doing before- but I need to keep it at bay at this time.

“Well, surprise.” I say with a fake chuckle and try to sidestep him but he moves once again blocking my exit.

“I apologize for not letting you come. If I had known you were my professor I would have given you what you wanted, hell , even let you ride my dick. And you should know it’s not something I usually offer.”

I close up the gap between us and stick a finger to his face. “You promised we would never talk about this again.”

“Hmm,” he hums, bite his lips and adjusts the sweater he tied around his neck. “You know this is exactly how it started on Saturday, you feeling me up and getting me hard. Me fucking your mouth and you swallowing me like a dirty little slut.”

I gasp. “I am your Professor.”

“Who sucks my dick.” He laughs. “You know I thought about you, yeah, after I left the room that night and on Sunday. I was wondering why someone would think of doing what you did to someone they call their sister and I almost put out a search for you so I can tie your hand and legs to a bedpost and punish you for being evil.”

“You do know blackmail is also a crime, right? And you promised you’d never speak about that.”

“No.” His countenance fell. “You asked me not to speak about it and I told you you were in no position to make demands. And after I came in your mouth, I told you I haven’t forgiven you.”

I sigh in exasperation. “Can you please not use those words? I am your Professor, Preston.”

“What? Fuck? Cum? Swallow? Are you ashamed of what we did?”

“I am done.” I move to the other side and he grabs my wrist.

“Isabelle. Let me make it up to you, I will let you come this time.”

“It’s Professor Walsh, and I don’t want to have sex with you.”

“Okay, we can remove the sex. I can finger you till you come. You can hump on my dick or I can eat you out. I have a very good jaw.”

I suck in a sharp breath and pull my hand out of his grip. “No.” My voice defeats me and my word comes out breathlessly

I had a marathon with John, my dildo, last night and my plan is to call Tony tonight but the thought of being spread out before Preston sends exciting shivers down my spines than any memories of my sexcapades with Tony.

Grabbing my waist with both hands, he presses me flat against his chest. I keep my hands to my side because I don’t trust myself to behave if I touch him.

What is it with this guy? I spent just one night with him where he took advantage of me and I’m thinking about going for seconds.

He pushes my hair out of face and plants slow soft kisses on my neck. “Preston.” My heart rams against my chest so fast I imagine it popping out of me. He humps against my legs and I feel his erection pressing against me. How is he this aroused just from his interaction?

“This is not a request Isabelle. Let me make it up to you or I will hand that video to people that will make your life hell. I will email you the place and time. Don’t be late.” He pulls away from him and I watch him arrange his junk before going back to where he sat for the lecture.

Quickly, I throw the door open and rush out. I am hot for my student, yes. I want to have his dick in my mouth again, stupid but yes, I do but, I would rather count every grain in a bag of rice with a fork than have sex with Preston.