Emmaline
This hard maple entrance leads me to the fortress of a mansion that my professor lives in. The teacher crush that I can’t get out of my head lives in this mansion! I can’t handle this for a second, my hand is shaking and I wish it would spontaneously start raining so I’d have an excuse to fling myself at my door.
But I decided that even if this is bad for me or not, this is what I'm going to do. I need to be able to knock on this door, and throw myself at him. Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I want to give my professor my virginity.
Ethan is my teacher.
Ethan is my fantasy.
And right now?
Ethan is about to take my virginity. That’s why I came here. My best friend Delia’s right, I need to just get him out of my system. Get this insane attraction out of my mind and move past all of this.
Taking my virginity…
I thought about it as me giving it to him, but that’s just not true. Sure as my heart is thundering in my chest like it is on an endlessly climbing loop to its own doom, so is my innocence. It isn’t just some outmoded idea in the things that I study in college. No, everything about his experience is about to undo my innocence, up on the altar. Because I’m offering this experience up to my soul in hopes that I can forget him.
I knock on the door. A few seconds feel like an absolute eternity, and then he opens the door. Watching it open and reveal his gorgeous face makes the world speed up around me with no time for me to catch up. Extending his hand for me to follow him, I walk inside and breath heavy. Oh God, this is really happening. Please, God, let this be happening. I need this.
“Let’s sit, in the library,” Ethan says. His voice makes me jump out of my skin almost; I’m humming so much at being here. At being near him. We’ve already crossed over the barrier. Having me in his home is just another check mark in the list of things that mean if you throw yourself at him, he’ll have you.
I follow him down the hall. No family photos on his walls like a lot of people have in their house. The off-white walls lead up to rich cream crown molding. The walls are blank mostly save for some framed typography, which is not too surprising that he’s an English and literature professor. I want to read every lithograph and manuscript page as I pass them all ... but Ethan's hand reaches out for mine for all of three seconds before we are in the library and I can’t breathe, much less crane my neck while I walk to read what words adorn his walls.
Inside his library, we sit across from each other in some of the wingback chairs he has atop the intricate rug and ensconced along the wall-to-wall leather bounds that would normally catch my attention. Right now the only thing I can look at is Ethan. Sitting, I smooth out the end of my dress. I hope that I look sexy and sophisticated, but in this gorgeous library, in Ethan's house looking at him in his sleek trousers and crisp shirt, I look like a little tart trying to pounce the hot professor. I look young and dumb. I gulp. “I’m here because I know we’re both attracted to each other. So, one night together…I want to give myself to you once so I won’t be so obsessed, and then we can both move on,” I say, the words spilling out of me so fast I feel foolish. I dare myself to maintain eye contact with him the entire time. It makes the heat on my face from my embarrassment feel punishingly sensual.
Ethan's lips curl into a smirk that could end me if I looked at it for another second. “One night with me…that’s not going to be enough,” Ethan says with a smug grin that incinerates me. He’s so sensual, so beyond sexy that I think I might burst into flames right here.
“If that’s the case, why are you single?” I say with a laugh. He’s so sexy when he’s bragging and smug.
“Why are you single?” Ethan asks now, and it isn’t just some laughing banter like I offer. He’s serious.
I tell him the truth. “I think most guys are boring,” I say, realizing how depressing that sounds. That’s the truth though. And how could they compete when Ethan has lived this full life and they’re still worried about scoring weed and going to keggers? They can’t compete with that, and I have zero interest in any of that sort of shit guys my age do.
“What interests you about me, Emmaline?” Ethan asks, in that voice that seems to envelop me.
When he says my name I think I might faint, I get so lightheaded. Oh, God, how do I answer that question?
Ethan crosses a leg over to rest his ankle on his other leg.
A casual move that somehow manages to make me even more nervous.
“Are you more intimidated by the question itself, or by answering me?” Ethan asks.
I gulp in a breath and look him in the eyes. “Are you more excited by me answering that question or by the answer to the question?” I lick my lips. “It is more than you being attractive or caring about something other than getting high or wasted. When I read, I get to be somewhere other than my boring life…and I’ve never had that feeling of belonging like that with anything or anyone else, until that night you saved me. You made me feel so safe,” I say. I push some of my hair behind my ear. “Answering you is still the more intimidating part of that, because I’m not afraid of the truth. I’m afraid of how it makes me feel.” I meet his eyes again, and watch the way Ethan scrapes his bottom lip on his teeth. He likes that answer.
“I’m more excited by the answer,” Ethan answers. “I can be surrounded by peers, by students, by anyone, and I’m never met by anyone like you. An equal, and at once…so innocent.”
An equal? I think I stop breathing for a second. My whole body feels taut, hearing Ethan say that. And I’m titillated by the way he called me innocent.
“You are, you know? I’ve had plenty of bright students, but you do more than interact with the work, or challenge it. You defy it. You’re never bold in your life the way you are in your papers, are you, Emmaline?” Ethan is in full-on professor mode, questioning me like we’re in the lecture hall.
But we’re in his leather-bound library and I can sense my arousal in the air…
Oh God, if I can smell my pussy, is Ethan breathing in the scent of how badly I want him? The musk of my arousal seems to be so thick in the air; I can’t imagine he doesn’t smell it. Does it turn him on? Dumb guys my age, I’ve heard them talking about pussies having smells, like that’s a bad thing. But everything about Ethan is so much more mature and grown up. I remember how he liked the taste of my pussy. He told me so. I doubt he’s turned off by the scent. The fact that it probably turns him on, turns me on.
“N-no,” I stammer. I chew on my lower lip nervously, shifting in my seat because I’m aching to feel him and that’s all I can think about. The more he’s in my mind and permeating my every thought, the more I want him on my body, touching me and invading my purity. I want Ethan to demolish my innocence. “I don’t think I’ve ever had much of an opportunity. I mean, I went off on that douche, Aiden, but…well that ended up not being too smart, I suppose.” I feel stupid and I have no idea what to say to Ethan now. I feel so small, and he seems so overwhelmingly massive. The sight of his broad shoulders filling out that shirt, his firm muscles hiding behind cotton make my breathing shallow. Would I feel this small in his arms?
“You have made some not so smart decisions, perhaps, but you don’t have to lie down and take any bullshit that comes your way,” Ethan says. I see his nostrils flare for just a second. He’s angry all over again just reme