Quantum Lust
The police had investigated, briefly, but with no wife or relatives asking after him and no evidence of foul play, they dropped the case without a search. People walk away from their lives all the time, they said. Not their concern.
Norwood gave no professional notice or any sign of plans to leave. He had taken the train in to the university as usual six months ago, and then by the end of the day he was just ... gone. No word to anyone. Not even the woman he had made love to for the first time just the day before.
It had been a milestone in their relationship, and though it happened in a rather spur-of-the-moment time and place, it had felt right after two months of getting to know each other and growing closer. First as colleagues, then as friends, then as romantic interests, and finally as a couple, Rylee had truly fallen for this quirky but kind man.
The hum of desire had reached its crescendo for her, which led to their first, and ultimately only, evening of lovemaking. They had agreed to keep their relationship secret in its early state, to avoid professional complications, and Rylee had never told anyone about it. In the end, it turned out there was nothing to tell.
Standing in the doorway, Rylee scanned the room. The golden rays of the morning sun drew her attention to the burgundy faux-suede sofa tucked against the wall across from the windows, and an unbidden flush of heat sparked in her chest and flooded her neck and cheeks.
Seeing that sofa again for the first time since that evening triggered the memory of so many sensations. Her back pressed into the soft cushions. His cock pressed into her soft flesh. Her explosive orgasm that had her body quivering beneath him while he gazed at her raptly ...
Rylee shook her head to dislodge the memory. Kicking the door closed, she strode to the desk and dropped her box on the solid wood surface with a resolute thud. If this space was to be her temporary home base for the next few weeks, she couldn't be hindered by the ghosts that lingered here.
The biology building that housed Rylee's own office was undergoing renovations, so the dean had to temporarily stick her in the physics building. Of course, this particular office lab was free. And, of course, since the dean had no knowledge of the budding relationship of two of his young professors — or their erotic sofa session — he couldn't have known that being in here would be difficult on Rylee.
Looking around the lab now, she realized just how difficult it was going to be.
It had taken a long time to push down the hurt that Ethan's disappearance had caused her. He ran off the day after they had sex, no further contact and no responses to any of her calls or texts. Had he run off because of her? That shitty little voice in her head kept telling her that, until she finally silenced it by refusing to think about him anymore.
But how could she not think about him now, here in his workspace where he obsessed over his special project ...
Where he came all over her naked body.
She remembered how they lay together long after, talking freely and openly, and how he kept looking at her with admiring eyes the whole time. She noticed how much he seemed to like seeing his come streaked across her abdomen and pooled in her bellybutton, and when she called him on it he showed no embarrassment or shame.
"You should know that I'm strongly voyeuristic," he confessed to her.
"So, it's lights on during sex?" she quipped.
He smiled his agreement as he ran his gaze over her body.
He had been completely open with her, sharing his belief that sex was beautiful to witness, as well as take part in. She loved his candour and how he listened non-judgementally to a freely shared confession or two of her own.
Far from prudish herself, she found it fun to share vices. She had even felt comfortable enough after that very first sexual encounter to titillate him with the suggestion that she might be open to making a private video one day, to indulge his voyeuristic desires. His eyes lit up at that idea.
So then why did he leave the very next day without a word? It had been an intense evening, not only physically but in how deeply they connected. Was that the problem? Ethan normally kept to himself, focusing on his work. Had the intensity of their connection been too much for him?
Enough! she scolded herself. Reopening the pain wasn't going get her anywhere. If she was going to succeed in getting on with her life, Gone Prof had to stay gone from her mind.
Regaining control of her thoughts, she unpacked her belongings and took over the desk, making it her own. Or at least, she tried to. The bottom side drawer was locked with a four-digit combination dial. The rest of the drawers had been emptied, the contents confiscated by the university, but they hadn't bothered to pry open the locked drawer.
Rylee wondered what Ethan might keep in a locked drawer, then once again pushed thoughts of him from her mind. No time for distractions, despite the environment.
* * * * * * *
She gave two lectures that day, but otherwise made herself available to her students in her new office space. A major mid-term bio project was underway and several students had questions or concerns they wanted to run by her. She didn't mind. She liked to connect with the students, but it could be exhausting. Today was one of those days.
As the outside dimmed to twilight, Rylee locked the lab door behind the last student to leave and shut off the overhead lights, preferring the relaxing glow coming through the windows. Stretching, she sauntered around the room to stretch her legs and get the blood circulating again.
Since it also served as a lab, the space was rather large for an office. Aside from the desk and sofa, the rest of the room was taken up by shelving along one wall, strewn with tools and physics equipment, and a few work tables of varying sizes. And there, at the back corner of the lab, stood the focus of Ethan's obsessive hours of work — his special project.
The most visually attracting aspect of the apparatus was the pair of round towers that stood about five feet away from the wall and four feet apart from each other, connected at floor level by a flat base. The six-foot-tall parallel pillars made Rylee think of shiny, silver goal posts.
Wires from the base ran into a rectangular metal structure next to the towers, a cube about three and a half feet per side, that Rylee knew housed a highly specialized, super-powerful CPU. She recalled how advanced Ethan insisted it was, a cutting-edge system. Now the structure sat idle as a table, topped with a keyboard coated in a layer of dust and a monitor sitting blank and lifeless.
He had explained his special project to her briefly once, but only in terms of general physics concepts, not the specifics of the machine's purpose, a secret he guarded with almost paranoid caution. She didn't follow anyway. Quantum physics wasn't a biologist's strong suit and, she had to admit, it wasn't his work she was interested in. But she enjoyed seeing the excitement dancing in his eyes as he spoke. Whatever he was working toward, he felt certain about his theory and determined to prove it.
Remembering his enthusiasm made her miss him all over again.
She groaned. How the hell was she supposed to avoid thinking about him with those dual towers standing in full view every day like sentinels?
Turning her back on the machine, she returned to the sofa, dropping into the plush cushions with a sigh. Even this damned, all-too-inviting sofa was a constant reminder of him.
She knew Ethan had often put it to use as a makeshift bed for those all-nighters on his project. She wondered if he had put it to any additional uses. He did with her. Had there been others? Students, perhaps?
She smirked, remembering the time she threw caution to the wind and let one of her eager grad student TAs go down on her in a biology lab in the middle of the day after everyone else had gone for lunch, and how she returned the favour just in time before the first undergrad blundered back in unawares.
She looked across the lab and out the windows at the dimming sky, then closed her eyes and let her mind wander.
She wasn't surprised to find it go straight to tight-shirted Alvaro Valente, one of her senior students. He was twenty-one and built like a fitness model. He had dropped by earlier, wanting to clarify a specific classification methodology related to his project, but it turned out his grasp of it was perfectly sound. She suspected he dropped by for a different reason.
Alvaro Valente liked to play games with teacher.
His flirting was not overt, which Rylee appreciated — a raised eyebrow or curled corner of the mouth as he watched her during a lecture, a slight pop of his pec when he knew he'd caught her eye.
And then there was the stress ball thing, a spongy miniature football promo sporting the university team's logo. Half the class had them that day, but Alvaro left his sitting on top of his desk with his hand resting on it. When he caught her eye, his glance dropped to her chest for just a moment and he gave the ball a seductive squeeze, pinching the pointed tip between finger and thumb. Unmistakably suggestive, true, but quite unnoticeable to anyone else.
It beat the outright tongue-hanging of the immature freshmen openly staring at her boobs.
There was no avoiding the attention her D-cups got from boys fresh out of high school, but Alvaro's subtlety showed his maturity as a senior, and since she was able to easily pretend she didn't notice, she didn't have to tell him to stop. She pondered whether she would ever consider taking that career-threatening risk with Mr. Valente, as she had with that grad student, answering the thought with a noncommittal shrug.
Slouching deeper into the soft sofa and closing her eyes, she pulled her knee length dress up until the hem reached her hips and slowly slid her hand down between her legs. Masturbation always helped her release tension, and she could use a release after the long day she'd had. She decided young Mr. Valente would assist her this evening, risk-free.
She ran her fingers over her panties, applying pressure against her most sensitive zone. In her mind, that wasn't her fingers she felt, it was Alvaro's rock-hard cock sliding over the thin material. She imagined that the head would be leaking its first fluids now, which trickled down his shaft and soaked into her panties.
She pulled the crotch of her panties aside, but it was him doing it, Alvaro Valente, the sexy senior with rippling muscles, who wanted to fuck his hot teacher.
Her finger — his cock — now ran up and down between her soft folds and over her clit. Yes, he wanted to do it now, he wanted to shove his hard cock into his teacher's pussy. She slid her middle finger into her vagina and started imitating a lover's thrusting.
No, it wasn't right, it wasn't enough. Alvaro was surely thicker than this. She bunched three fingers together and drove them into her slick hole.
Oh yes, that was it, that was him stretching her open with his girth. Teacher was liking this now, her chest heaving with heavy breaths, jutting her tits up at the young man, who worshipped them with his strong hands and hungry mouth.
Rylee knew the key to any successful fantasy was to keep your eyes shut. But she felt something odd, a tingle on her skin caused by something other than her self-pleasuring.
She opened her eyes.
A small scream escaped her mouth as she yanked her legs up onto the sofa and tugged her dress back down her thighs.
There before her, about ten feet away, stood a dark figure. A male figure by the shape of it — broad shoulders, narrow hips, brawn in the arms and legs. The outlines she could see made her realize that the man was naked, and she hugged her knees in closer to her chest.
At first Rylee thought it was the dim light making the intruder hard to focus on, but then she could have sworn that she saw right through the body, like a weak hologram projection on the verge of cutting out.
"Who are you?" she demanded, finally finding her voice. "Get out of here! Get out or I'll call the campus police!"
The figure reached a transparent arm toward her in an imploring gesture, then suddenly disappeared.
Rylee leapt for the wall switches and set the room ablaze in light. She looked everywhere, but there was no one there, nothing to find.
Standing behind the desk as if it was a shield, she stared at the place where the man had been — where she thought he had been. The longer she looked in the harsh light, the less real the apparition seemed.
Glancing at the sofa with some embarrassment, remembering her conjured fantasy, she wondered about the exhausted brain's ability to manifest visions under the influence of particular stimulations. It had never happened to her before, but she knew the brain well enough to know it was possible — and in this case quite likely.
Because now when she thought back on it, she could swear the naked ghostly figure had a full-on erection.
* * * * * * *
A week and a half went by without any further hallucinations, which was a relief to Rylee. She made a point to get a full seven hours sleep per night since that odd experience, and it appeared to have worked. Without any more ghosts popping up, she was getting more comfortable in her temporary office space.
Perhaps a little too comfortable, she thought, dropping into her desk chair and staring at the burgundy sofa.
Was she really going to do this?
After the éclair incident in today's lecture, that young man was lucky she restrained herself from throwing him to the floor and sitting on his face right there in front of fifty other students.
Being a Microbiology senior put Alvaro Valente in enough of Rylee's lectures that she saw him most days. She wasn't sure if making him the subject of her masturbation fantasy a week and a half ago made her more hyper aware of his increasingly frequent suggestive actions or if he had just grown bolder. Whichever it was, his little sexual signals were making her horny as hell.
Then today he brought a small éclair to her afternoon lecture. Nothing unusual about that. Students often brought a coffee or snack to lectures. Alvaro sat in the front row and set the éclair down on his desk. As Rylee spoke, Alvaro took no notes and barely moved. He just watched her, leaving his éclair sitting untouched.
It was a simple, small éclair, not even adorned with chocolate. Just folds of puffed pastry and the centre groove filled with fluffy white cream. An innocent little dessert. But as the lecture progressed she kept looking at it, thinking about it, wondering why the cheeky bastard wouldn't just eat the damn thing.
Needing a moment to refocus her thoughts, she threw up a summary chart on the large screen and told the students to take notes. That's when Alvaro finally moved.
The éclair had absorbed so much of her attention, she couldn't help but stare as the handsome young man, his eyes fixed on her, lifted the delicate pastry to his mouth. His lips parted and in one slow, sensuous motion he pushed his tongue into the folds of the éclair and licked the cream out of the pastry from one end to the other until all of it was gathered on his tongue. As he drew the cream into his mouth, Rylee felt a rush of heat between her legs.
Holy shit, she thought. That was hot! She made her decision right then and there.
After the lecture, she called on Alvaro to come see her for a moment. When he stood before her, there was no smirk or smugness. She liked that about him. But she doubted very much that the little smear of cream left on his lip was a mistake.
"You might want to wipe your mouth before you head out," she told him.
That silky tongue re-emerged to claim the last bit of sweet cream. "Thanks for pointing that out," he said, with his Brazilian accent. "I don't like to leave evidence of desserts enjoyed. Nobody's business, right?"
Their eyes met in shared understanding and mutual agreement.
"I noticed you didn't take any notes or recordings in the lecture," Rylee said.
"My laptop's in for a repair today. It's okay, I can get what I need from a friend."
"Or ... if you prefer your material directly from the teacher, you can stop by my office this evening and I can give you what you need."
Had she really said that? Yes, she did. And Alvaro had understood the implicit offer and readily accepted.
Now, thinking back on the cream of that éclair smeared over his tongue, she answered her own question: yes, she was going to do this. She wanted this. She needed this. It had been six months since she last had sex — the memory of which now caused her more heartache than joy. She needed to not only end that dry spell but also put that memory behind her. Ethan was gone.
Young Mr. Valente arrived punctually at 7:00 p.m., when the corridors of the physics building were substantially quieter. He was empty handed, not even sporting his usual beaten-up backpack over his shoulder.
"Still no laptop?" Rylee asked him.
He dipped his hand into his pocket and fished out a thumb drive. "I brought this."
Rylee took his thumb drive to her laptop, then found herself flushing like a schoolgirl as she inserted the stick into her USB port, silently berating herself for her juvenile reaction to the suggestive image. Her mind was definitely regressing in her heightened arousal.
When the lecture files finished copying, she handed the drive back to Alvaro, then looked at him for a long time as he stood silently returning her gaze.
"Do you mind if I lock the door?" she asked finally, a question that would seal their tacit agreement.
"That would be prudent, Professor," he answered.
Rylee closed the windowless door and turned the lock, her heart beating faster now. There was no longer any view into the lab from the corridor. The two windows on the opposite wall were not large and since the lab was on the fourth floor and didn't face any opposing buildings, there was no sight line into the room. Shutting off the bright lights, she walked back to stand face to face with her handsome senior student.
"You don't need any reciprocal boost to your grades," she stated bluntly, "and I doubt you have trouble meeting girls your own age. Care to elaborate on why you're here, Mr. Valente?"
Alvaro's smile was both charming and sincere. "Life is exciting and I want to live it. I want to experience everything that interests me. No photos or videos or social media posts — my experiences, just for me."
Rylee took another step closer and ran her finger down his front. "And I am one of those life experiences that interests you?"
"That is why I am here ... Professor."
"Take off your shirt," Rylee commanded him and he peeled it off, revealing a broad tanned chest and tight abs, lit dramatically by the sharp rays of the evening sun lancing through the windows, the only light in the room. Rylee caught her breath. This guy actually looked better in real life than in her fantasy!
She felt it was only right that, as his teacher, she should be the one to guide the situation. Throwing herself against him, she planted her mouth on his and kissed him hungrily as she explored his toned torso with roving hands. With their bodies pressed together, she could feel his growing bulge against her pubic bone, and again she felt that rising heat between her legs.
Then, as abruptly as she launched at him, she pulled back, opening a space between them and catching her breath. This was it, time for her final decision.
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