Story 28 #2
As he drove through the streets, she felt his hand on her thigh again. He was stroking her upper leg. Then, his hand moved further, further, up.
She felt his fingers on her panties and she wanted him.
She felt the tips of his fingers rub at the front of her panties, tracing the outline of her pussy through the thin material and then finding her clit, pushing at it.
She was squirming in her seat, wanting more. She bit her bottom lip.
Then, she reached across to his pants. She felt the hardness there, and she undid his pants.
His fingers had pushed her panties to one side now, and he was playing with her pussy with greater enthusiasm, pleasuring her now rather than just teasing her.
She pulled his cock out and let out a gasp. It was huge! She felt a rush of excitement. She was going to have some fun here.
She began to jerk him off as he continued playing with her pussy.
Then, she leaned over, bending down, and took his cock in her mouth. She felt it push all the way to the back of her throat. He was stroking her hair with one hand.
Suddenly, the car turned and came to a stop.
She raised her face and looked around. They were in a deserted alleyway.
“I think we’d better finish things off,” he said, “before I have a crash!”
He pushed his seat back and pulled her to him. She went to him, straddling him, and he pulled her dress down, pushing his face into her breasts, sucking on them, as he pushed her panties to one side, as she took hold of his cock and guided it into her.
She began to ride him, his face still buried between her breasts. She felt him deep inside her, and she rode him hard and fast. They were both so turned on in that moment. The windows steamed up, but she was sure that anyone passing would know what they were doing - the car was rocking and she was crying out, again and again, till, at last, he came inside her.
She climbed off him, putting her panties back in place as he did his pants up. Then, he started the car and began driving the rest of the way back to his place. His hand resting on her thigh let her know that things were far from over, however.
There had been many moments of wild passion like that in their relationship. She always remembered them whenever she wondered if the passion was gone or, in moments such as this one, when she was feeling somewhat annoyed with him. She remembered how good he made her feel, the things that he could do with his mouth, with his fingers - and how good it felt to have him deep inside her.
As she checked her mirror and made a turn, she found herself thinking about these things again, feeling quite turned on. She told herself to get a grip - she was almost at the college, and she had to focus on the task at hand.
She reached the campus and parked up. She looked around, half hoping to see her wayward son and be able to discipline him right there and then. A part of her was very keen to have it out with him, but another part of her knew that wasn’t going to do any good. No, whatever the problem was here, she had to go to the professor to sort it out.
She headed to reception and explained who she was.
"Ah, yes, of course," the woman in reception said, "Professor Hayes is waiting for you."
She gave her directions, and Sophia followed them to an old building on the outskirts of the campus. She had to admit that she wasn’t very impressed with this place, and she silently wondered about the caliber of this professor if he was stuck all the way out here.
She headed in and found the office with “Professor Hayes” on the door.
She knocked, and a man’s voice called her to come in.
She opened the door and stepped into the office.
It was larger than she had expected but stuffed with piles of books all over the place.
There was a couch with an armchair across from it, as well as a large desk - also crowded with books and papers - and a man sitting behind the desk.
The man got to his feet when she came in. For a moment, she wondered if she had accidentally come into the wrong room. This man was not what she had expected at all. She had expected some old, dusty, professor. But this man was young - younger than her. He looked as though he was in his early to mid-thirties.
She was struck by how good-looking he was. He was wearing a shirt and pants, and he had a lean, muscular, look to his body. He had tanned skin and a handsome face, with a rugged, outdoors, look to it. His hair was blonde and cut short - almost a buzzcut. He had sharp, blue, eyes.
“Hello?” she said, looking around, still unsure if she was in the right place, “I’m looking for Professor Hayes.”
”You’ve found him. But, please, call me Lucas.”
She introduced herself and he came forward to shake her hand.
“Ah, of course. Sam’s mother. Please, take a seat.”
She sat across from him at the desk. He seemed to be trying to peer around the piles of books.
“Come on,” he said, “let’s take this over to the couch. Make it a bit less formal.”
She headed over to the couch, and he sat on the armchair across from her. She felt disarmed by this man. She thought that she had come in there with strategies for dealing with whatever awaited her. But, this man was different. She just wasn’t sure how different.
“Now,” Lucas began, looking at a page of notes, “let’s see…”
Sophia decided that she had to take control of this situation. This man was young, and she felt as though she could put him in his place easily enough.
She leaned forward.
“Professor - I mean, Lucas - I understand that you’ve been having some problems with my son, but I really think that we can resolve this all easily enough and get this all done with. I realize that my son -”
Lucas surprised her - outraged her, would perhaps be more accurate - by holding up one finger to silence her. She fell silent, brooding in her anger.
“Yes,” Lucas said, looking up from his notes, “Sam Marlowe. He has been giving us quite the runaround.”
“Perhaps he just needs a bit more of a firm hand.”
“A firm hand? Is that what you’ve used on him in the past?”
“Well, yes. We don’t put up with any nonsense from him, you see.”
“A firm hand. And how do you think that has worked out so far?”
"Very well, I'd say. Yes, he's a strong-willed young man, but he's not a bad person."
“Very well, you say? And yet, here you are for a meeting about his behavior.”
She could feel her anger growing. She felt as though her ability as a parent was being called into doubt, and she felt the defenses going up instinctively.
“I assure you that we have done a good job raising our son.”
“Oh, I’m sure you have. Please, I’m not trying to criticize your parenting skills. But the fact is that we have some problems here, and I’m hoping that - working together - we can try and resolve them. We’re not at the point of no return just yet, but I think that it’s best that we pull back from the brink now before it really is too late.”
His words shocked her slightly - the point of no return? However, she decided that she had to get control of this situation now so that this man couldn't just try and dominate the entire thing. She decided to fall back on her professional demeanor, treating this as a business negotiation, and this man as a competitor who had to be dominated.
“Mr. Hayes,” she began, and then corrected herself, “Lucas. I assure you that if there is any problem here then it does not lie with myself. I can assure you that, when my son came away here, he was performing more than adequately. And now, suddenly, I’m hearing that there are these problems with him, and with his work. It appears to me that this problem lies at your end.”
“Your son is wilful. He has a stubborn streak in him. You know, I think that maybe I’m starting to see just where he gets that from.”
He was smirking at her, but she could hear the steel in his voice. He was taking this more seriously than his relaxed demeanor might let on. She felt herself bristling with anger at his comment.
“May I ask you what your background is?” she asked him, “You see - I am used to managing teams of people. People with strong wills - stubbornness, if you wish to call it that. I have never had any problems with anything like this before, which is why I have to conclude that the fault lies with you.”
He continued to smirk at her. It was infuriating.
“I was in the army,” he said, and she thought that she heard a certain smugness in the answer, as though he knew that he had caught her out, “I attended West Point, graduated top of my class, went on to serve as an officer, and now I have ended up here, teaching Political Science.”
She scowled at him, unsure what to say to him. He was smiling still, and there was something contagious about that smile. She knew that he had got her, that she had walked into his trap, and a part of her wanted to return the smile, defuse the situation, maybe show him that she could see that this was ridiculous, that they were both, in fact, on the same side.
She felt disarmed. She didn’t know quite what this man was doing to her, how he was managing to shift her anger into something else - something that she didn’t really understand.
Their eyes met. His looked so calm - yet there was a commanding steeliness in them, all the same. She felt as though he was bending her to his will. This meeting was not going the way that she had thought that it would.
She didn’t want to look away - and yet, she didn’t quite dare to hold his gaze. She felt as though whatever she did, he would win.
Her anger suddenly rose within her, white-hot.
She got to her feet quickly and turned away from him. She went over to the window and looked out at the people down below, walking to and from classes. She wondered if her son was down there, somewhere. She was surprised to think about him like that - she felt as though all thoughts of him were far away now. Instead, she was thinking of - what? She didn't quite know.
Suddenly, there were footsteps behind her.