Thread: Beautiful Little Secret [Chai & Reydan]

She was surprisingly easy to talk to. Dwayne had never exactly been a wallflower - not one of those awkward, hyper-intelligent, men who go into academia in part because they find social interaction intensely difficult. Whilst not necessarily the life and soul of the party, he was nonetheless likeable and well liked. But you couldn't do a job like this without feeling your age. Seeing every intake of eighteen year old stumble, wide-eyed and yet strangely cocky, into the swirl of the University, interact with them as they matured and, finally, watch they toss those mortar boards into the air and leave... That was the thing that made you feel old. He was half again Cynthia's age....but that didn't seem to matter too much in that moment. He found himself smiling along with her. There was something lively about this one, even if she wasn't the most loud and outspoken student in his undergraduate class this semester. He watched her small hands, long slender fingers playing around her phone as she enthused. There was something about those fingers...something.... He pushed the thought aside. What could there possibly be to that stray thought.... The phone on the table between them thrummed on the polished wood and, like a fool, a thoughtless fool, Dwayne picked it up and looked. If her nude selfie, so expertly posed and so incredibly enticing, affected him he didn't show it. There was a slight raising of those dark eyebrows, a little re-focusing of his eyes. Large black fingers enclosed around the phone, placing it face down back on the table but, this time, very much within only his grasp. One hand, as if reassuring him that the problem was solved, lay heavily across it. Shit. Shit that was wrong. In front of a student. Twenty years ago, he heard, the rules were different. Staff routinely slept with students, got into all sorts of scrapes and compromising situations, and it was all swept under the convenient university carpets. Now, in an age of social media and metoo even a whiff of impropriety could get you sacked. Focus Dwayne, he thought, but all he could think about was the soft curve of that stomach as the pale skin tapered down towards those slender thighs and a hot, wet, little.... He was hard. Hard under the table. With a student sitting across from him, smiling at him. Dwayne's pulse throbbed. 'So....no...' he tried to focus on her words. Dates. Times. Supervision. Perfect, yes. There were few things in his experience more unarousing than scheduling. He reached down into his satchel to retrieve a well-thumbed paper diary. 'It would have to be early evening on Wednesday' he said, looking at the pages. 'Maybe 7 or even 8 pm. I am in supervisions or meeting with the Dean any other afternoons I'm not teaching.' He looked up, more business now, although it was hard to keep his eyes on her face and not lingering lower. She had, he noticed, a similar colouring to the girl on the phone. He wondered, in an illicit moment, what else might be the same.... 'Would you be comfortable meeting in my office that sort of time?' he asked, breathing deep and allowing some of the tension to flow away from his aching erection.