“I don’t believe it’s dishonest to call this a ‘woman’s play’,” Charlie shrugs as she holds up her copy of ‘Proof’. She studies her professor, obviously annoyed with her tenth complaint of the day. “And why would it be something shameful to be calling it a ‘woman’s play’?” But she isn’t talking to him; she’s talking to the kid who insists that his male privilege is actually a lack of privilege. She knows Professor Monroe agrees with her but isn’t at liberty to shoot down conflicting ideas himself.
The kid, whose name she can’t remember but is definitely something stereotypically frat boy, scoffs and rolls his eyes up at the ceiling. He might as well have said ‘Silly woman.’ and complete the comical patronizing gesture. “Are you trying to say that there are plays that are solely for women? Isn’t that excluding men and therefore not equality?”
Charlie catches the look the professor is giving her; a clear ‘Please, we only have five minutes left in class.’ She clears her throat and looks back at frat boy as she leans forward in her seat. “You realize that women do not have space? That every space we move through is male dominated? And when we have such little space to maneuver through and feel safe within then we should be allowed that space?”
“What are you even-” he begins but Professor Monroe stands up and claps his hands which garners everyone’s attention.
His eyes sparkle but Charlie can read the exhaustion beneath them; it’d been a long day. “Alright, thank you all for open and honest discussion. Please have ‘In the Blood’ read for next class and your papers ready for editing.” He took in the collective shuffling and mad dash for the door before going back to his seat. There was no groaning, they were all too old for that but it was implied.
Charlie takes her time putting her books in her bag, pointedly ignoring the looks the kid threw her way because he wasn’t worth her time. Her source of concern was sitting hunched over his desk with an amassing pile of midterm papers. She makes sure she’s the last person to head towards the door but instead of leaving, she pulls it closed and locks it. There isn’t a window on the door since the room doubled as the professor’s office so she simply turns on her heel to head back towards his desk.
Bass hears the lock click and he doesn’t have to look up to know what she’s doing. “Charlotte, you’re going to be late for Stats.” When he continues to hear the ruffle of clothing, he sighs and finally looks up. She’s got her boots tossed onto one of the chairs and her panties sliding down to her ankles. He watches her step out of them demurely and leave them right where they fall. “Charlie…”
“Professor…” she teases as she curls her fingers around the hem of her dress. His eyes drop to her thighs and she makes a show of revealing herself slowly as she comes to his desk. He’s already pushing out his chair without her having to ask and she’s swinging her leg over his hips without a second thought. “You didn’t get any sleep last night.” It’s not a question; she knows the look and the hunch of his shoulders well. Sometimes they were her fault.
“No.” Bass doesn’t try to lie to her, she always smelled them coming before he’d even thought a proper one up. His hands settle over the outsides her warm thighs; fingertips dipping in and retracing his steps from two nights ago. Had it really been that long?
Charlie drags her lips over his brow as she murmurs, “This is what happens when you don’t let me come over and get you in bed.” Her fingers begin to work at his button and fly. He really did have office hours soon and she didn’t want to be interrupted. She didn’t have to hide how much she needed him either, he was well aware of her addiction. And it was getting harder and harder to hide from her uncle and his best friend.
“Miles was over,” he grumbles, letting his touch travel to her backside. She had possibly one of the best asses he ever had the honor of squeezing and he made sure to do so as often as possible. “Drank all my scotch too.” Charlie laughs at that and he swallows the noise with his lips closed firmly over hers. He loved that big smile of hers, the spread of her lips, more than he loved the spread of her legs. But he wasn’t complaining as he slid one hand down over her ass and between her legs to cup her mound.
“Good…” she breathes against his lips, both at his touch and at his recount of last night’s events. “You don’t need to be drinking.” Her words are strained as he’s already begun to press his fingers into her slit and rub her sensitive lips in slow circles. “You- Bass…” She gets another kiss for that.
He hisses as her hands finally wrap around him and she uses both, not entirely for his length, but for the fact that she couldn’t keep them off of him. She said once that one got jealous of the other. He’d given her a firm slap on the bottom for it. They’re taking too long and he’s well aware of it but he can’t seem to push her off or speed this up. Just a few days away from her had made his nerves on edge and seeing her argue all class period instead of having her beneath him had been hell.
Even if she was beautiful when tearing down the rampant ignorance in his classroom.
His cock is straining towards her, undoubtedly knowing how close he was to home. The clock over her shoulder told him he didn’t have more than ten minutes until either angry or sobbing students showed up at his door. It wasn’t enough time to get her sweaty and broken from his touch but they both had classes after this so it didn’t make sense to anyway. Hefting her up onto the corner of his desk, Bass stands and crowds between her legs. As always, she takes his cue and guides him to her dripping center. His hand joins her, dipping a finger into her tight heat as she’s trying to push his cockhead to her entrance.
“Bass!” she chastises, even though the stretch of his thick finger had her muscles clamping down. She wanted him inside of her and he was getting distracted. If she’d let him, he’d spend hours down there; using his fingers to see how much she could take. He always had some nasty words to whisper into her thigh to go along with the torture.
He chuckles and adds another finger for a moment before pulling both out and helping her with a push of his hips. They both groan, his head falling forward so that it rested on her shoulder. He lets himself enjoy her body’s welcome, trying to commit to memory the way her walls cling to him and her juices coat the coarse hair at the base of his cock. But she grows restless, pushing at the dip before his ass with the heels of her feet. He wastes no more time once she begins to make needy noises that he could just eat up.
If anyone were to walk by the door and just stop for a second, he had no doubt they would hear the way he pounded into her. The way the desk rattled with each surge of his hips that punched the breath from her lungs. And he wasn’t the vicious one, not with the way her nails dug into his back below his shirt and into his hips. She whined encouragements into his ear and every single one had a lick of heat running up his spine. Some of his personal favorites included depictions of how she was going to walk after all this was over or how tonight she’ll probably still be red between her thighs from his fucking.
In no time, he’s pulling out and aiming his cock at the ground, away from his dress pants and shooting onto the floor. All the while, he’s breathing harshly through his nose to keep himself from groaning. The little minx has the nerve to look absolutely pleased but her smirk is wiped straight off the moment he’s falling to his knees and burying his head beneath her dress. She tastes like sweat and want and him. It was his favorite taste and one she never denied him. Especially not with a tongue like his.
Charlie keens, head tilting forward as her hand flies to his hair and the other grips the desk. She tries to keep her eyes open to watch him but he’s wrapping his tongue around her clit and sucking. Spots appear in her vision and she’s forced to let her eyes slip closed. Her heels dig into his shoulders now, hand directed him where to go with her fingers wrapped tight around his curls. Not that she needed to show him how it was done because he has her coming against his face within a minute of him slipping down there. The bastard swipes the flat of his tongue against her pussy three times after she’s come before she's kicking him way; oversensitive and shaking with the aftershocks of her orgasm.
He laughs as he straightens, pulling her dress down as he kisses her neck lovingly. Once he’s got her clothes righted, he works on his own and watches the calm on her face. She was always so peaceful afterwards and how could he deny her that? Once she’s come back to herself, she’s getting onto two shaky feet and leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss him. She’s got less than five minutes to get to Stats and it was halfway across campus but she makes sure to kiss him thoroughly until the taste of her arousal is nearly gone.
Sighing happily, she falls back onto her feet and grins at him. “Have a good day, Professor.”