Ethan showed up at the same time as last week, half expecting her to keep the same stiff, formal distance.
She didn’t.
When Elara opened the door, she was already in a soft pair of pajamas: a thin, light-blue top that sat loosely on her shoulders and matching shorts that stopped high on her thighs. An apron was tied around her waist like she’d been in the middle of something in the kitchen. Her hair was down this time, glasses still on, but the whole rigid professor posture from the first session had loosened.
"Come in," she said. "I figured we might as well eat while we work. I made too much anyway."
The table still had the usual stack of papers, but now there were also two plates and the smell of actual food coming from the kitchen. They sat down and went through the lesson first. She corrected his structure, pointed out the same weak spots as last time, and didn’t cut him any slack. But, on the positive side, he could sense she was a little more comfortable with herself; the strict, formal tone she maintained was no longer there.
If there was any conviction on her part that Ethan was her for study purposes, it was probably getting shattered today.
And he was going to make sure of it.
Every time she leaned in to highlight something, to point something, to annotate. Ethan would catch a glimpse of her cleavage, which was clearly visible from his position.
A dirty image of them bare was already forming in his head; he could already imagine how they looked, and this only added further to this frustration.
When they finally pushed the papers aside, she stood up and came back from the kitchen with two bowls. They ate without rushing. The conversation drifted away from essays and into easier things: how quiet the faculty building got at night, how most of the older professors still treated her like she was temporary, and how she hadn’t really had time for anything outside of work since she took the position.
And Ethan felt satisfied at the direction things were going; he was comfortable with the long game, despite his desperation.
Posing as a trustworthy friend, rather than just a mere student. He watched her while she talked. The way the pajama top shifted when she reached for her glass. The line of her bare thighs under the table
That’s when he decided to push a little.
"How come you’re not married?" he asked, keeping his tone light. "Or at least living with someone. You’re young, you’ve got a position, you have things figured out... most people in your spot would’ve gotten locked down already."
Elara raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t look offended. A small, amused sound left her.
"That’s a bold question for a student."
"You don’t have to answer." He retracted.
"No, it’s fine." She set her glass down and leaned back. "I never really prioritized it. Grad school, then the position, then trying not to get pushed out by people who thought I was too young for the job. Dating felt like something I could do later. I guess I never thought too much about it."
Ethan nodded slowly, letting the silence sit for a second. Then he leaned forward a little, elbows on the table. "What’s there to life other than love?" Follow the newest chapters on novelping dot com.
She looked at him for a moment in contemplation and nodded slightly with a smile. "Perhaps."
YOLO.
He finally stood and stepped around the table, and when he reached up, he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, slowing down for a moment to see if she’d stop him.
She didn’t.
He kissed her; initially, she remained frozen, her lips not parting.
Then she kissed him back with more pressure; one of her hands came up to the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.
He felt the warm shape of her body through the thin fabric of her pajamas and deepened the kiss.
She made a quiet sound against his mouth when his hand settled on her waist, thumb brushing the bare skin just under the hem of her top.
They stayed like that for a while, kissing and teasing, but not fully crossing the line yet.
His cock was already hard and pressing against her stomach through his pants. She pretended like she didn’t notice, but he caught her glimpsing downward for a moment before adjusting herself.
She bit her lip discreetly.
Or at least she thought she did, but Ethan took note of it.
Then she broke the kiss, her forehead resting slightly against his for a second. Her hesitation resurfaced once more, and Ethan found himself confused...weren’t we just getting started?
Don’t you fucking dare...
"It’s getting late," she said, with a low, hesitant voice. "I still have things I need to finish tonight; I say we call this off for now."
Fucking bitch...
Ethan remained frozen, still resting against her warmth.
"Doesn’t feel like you want me to leave," he said, trying to salvage the situation.
A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth; she stepped back just enough to create space, but her hand lingered on his muscular chest for a moment longer. You are reading on novelping.com, the official source.
"I know." She said
"Come back tomorrow," she said. "We’ll...continue the tutoring, if you want."
The way she emphasized the last part made it clear she wasn’t talking about tutoring.
Obviously once more, she figured out the real reason why he is here; his arousal made him scream internally at her hesitation.
He wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t tell anybody, that her reputation would be safe, and that he’ll still see her as a professor.
He wanted to insist, to urge, to force her even. But all that he could utter is a simple nod, no longer hiding his frustration, and she sensed it.
But yet, he is not stupid enough to push further when she has already opened the door for the next night.
The walk back felt longer than usual. Every few steps his cock throbbed against his pants, heavy and ignored. He kept seeing the soft line of her thighs under the table, the way her top had shifted when she leaned forward, the small, almost reluctant smile she gave him at the end.
She had wanted more. He was sure of that. She had just chosen to stop it on her own terms.
That part irritated him more than he expected.
Most women the system pointed him toward didn’t get the chance to set the pace. They folded, they melted, and they ended up on their backs or their knees before the night was over.
Elara had kissed him back, felt how hard he was, and still sent him out the door with nothing but a promise of tomorrow. It left a restless heat under his skin that didn’t have anywhere to go.
For a moment, he felt the ugly memories of his past rushing back to him. Feeling dejected, rejected, and utterly void of any women’s affection.
Those thoughts faded quickly; instead, they were replaced by intense visions of her alluring cleavage and the way her soft pajamas clung to her curves every time she bent over, accentuating every enticing detail.
The memory of her full, inviting lips lingered in his mind, igniting a fire within him that he couldn’t ignore. The longing surged, overwhelming him with a desperate ache for more.
By the time he reached the apartment, the frustration had settled into a form of desperate need, one that he hadn’t felt for a long time.
Mira was still awake on the couch, one of the other girls asleep against her side. She looked up when he came in, eyes immediately dropping to the obvious strain in his pants, but he only gave her a short shake of the head and went straight to the bedroom.
I will fuck you raw...that’s a promise on my part, Elara....