Christine Vs. Professor - Page 10

* * *

Christine: No, I’ve never been spanked.

* * *

Anders: You will be, soon.

* * *

Christine: Ohhhhhh…

* * *

Anders: Tomorrow, I will wear all black to class to show you my commitment to keeping our sex relationship and our school relationship separate. Tomorrow night, I will show you my commitment to fucking you until your eyes cross. Tonight, you think. If you think you too can keep our school relationship on a professional level, wear all black. I’ll know when I see you walk into class.

* * *

Christine: Okay. I’ll think about it.

* * *

Anders: Goodnight, my little fucktoy.

* * *

Christine: Goodnight, my sexy professor.

10

Christine

With trembling hands, I push the door to the lecture hall open. Anders, who was chatting with another student up at the front of the room, catches my gaze. His eyes flick up and down me as I come walking in, trying hard as I can to act casual. His mouth tightens a little but he’s quick to turn back to the student in front of me as if nothing is wrong.

I picked my outfit out carefully this morning – not a spec of black in it.

That’s right.

You can’t see a single shred of black.

Yes, I know what we agreed to.

I have a filmy silver shirt that somehow shows more than it covers up, setting off my tiny waist to perfection. Then a white skirt with silver polka dots covering it, finished off with silver fuck-me high heels.

I sit down in the front row, right in front of Anders’ favorite place to stand as he’s talking. He won’t be able to ignore me here.

Class begins and I’ll admit it – I have no fucking clue what he talked about. Probably political science – that’s a safe bet considering he’s a political science professor – but beyond that, no idea. Every time his gaze drifted back towards me, I shifted in my seat, making sure to hike my skirt up just a little farther as I did so. The next time he looked at me, I bent over and pulled a lollipop out of my bag. I unwrapped it slowly, staring at him as I did so, and then slowly put it into my mouth, moving it slowly in and out of my mouth as I sucked on it, never breaking eye contact the whole time.

Anders stopped, mid-sentence, cleared his throat, jerked his eyes away from mine and walked back to the podium to look over his notes.

Score!

Any day that I cause Anders to lose his train of thought is a win in my book.

He dismisses class a little early and almost beats the rush of students out the door. I slowly pack my shit up, giving everyone a chance to clear out before leaving myself. I head a few doors down to his office, and knock. My knees are shaking almost worse than they were walking into the lecture hall an hour earlier.

“Come in,” I hear through the door. Taking a deep breath, I push the door open.

Anders comes to his feet as soon as he sees me, his eyes a stormy gray, questioning, flicking up and down my body and back to my face.

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