Professor's Pet Ch. 00

John came to the passenger side and opened the door for her, the case for his bass slung over his shoulder. Maggie smiled and slid inside, though she couldn't help but think about how many times his wife had sat in this seat before. She wanted to be here with him so she shook off the invading thoughts of his wife as she buckled her seatbelt.

John slid his bass into the backseat and went to the drivers side and plopped down in his seat, and then started up the car, "Where to?"

"I live off Nottingham. It's not even a mile from the store where I saw you last week," Maggie said as he pulled out of the parking lot and took a left.

"Gotcha. You know, that's not too far from my place," he said as he joined the other cars on the road and started heading to Maggie's apartment.

His arm rested on the console, fingers drumming nervously on the gearshift. He didn't know what he was going to do when they got back to her place; it all seemed too easy, too perfect.

An awkward silence lingered for several minutes and Maggie stared out the window, "That last song, the one I liked, is it new?"

John rolled to a stop at a red light and looked over at her. Her beauty illuminated by the city streetlights, "Yes it is. Why?"

Maggie kept her eyes out the window and fiddled with her fingers in her lap, "Did you write it for me?" she asked softly.

"Sort of. Yes. I mean, no. Well, yes," he fumbled for words.

Maggie laughed and looked over at him, catching his eyes with hers, "Well, what is it? I don't think I imagined its intensity."

The light changed to green and John hit the accelerator. Maggie rested her hand on top of his, slowly drawing her fingers over the bones of his hand.

"When I wrote it, I was thinking about you, yes," he admitted. "You are my muse, if you will. I wouldn't say I wrote it for you, specifically," his nerves tingled at her gentle touch. "But, I would say you inspired it."

Maggie smiled and returned to looking out the window, watching people pass by in their cars. After a few moments she spoke, "I'm glad I can provide you with inspiration."

The rest of the ride was filled with common conversation until they reached her apartment and she led him through other buildings to hers. They pulled into her assigned parking spot.

"Would you like to come in? I baked cupcakes; tomorrow is my work friend's birthday. I have plenty. It's the least I can do for all your kindness," she said looking at him, longing to stay together if only a little longer.

John turned off his car and took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact with Maggie. He went over the pros and cons of a cupcake that could mean a lot more in his head before answering. "Maggie..."

"I'm so stupid. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she said rushing her words, shaking her head violently.

John squeezed her hand in an effort to calm her down, "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'd love a cupcake."

Maggie clenched her fingers around his hand, "Sorry, I just... Sorry."

He leaned over and brushed a few stray chestnut strands from her face. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I'd love a cupcake, but first, tell me what kind it is."

Maggie's lips broke into a quivering smile, "Strawberry with cream cheese frosting."

John made an approving sound and returned her smile. "Sounds delightful."

They both unbuckled their seatbelts and Maggie led him across the courtyard to her apartment. They walked in silence, accompanied by the wind rulsting the trees.

She opened the door and let him inside, both of them too nervous to say anything. John looked around her apartment. The grown up decor was comforting. He knew she wasn't an overgrown adolescent. She knew what she was doing, what she wanted and where she was going.

He watched her unbutton her coat and hang it in the coat closet by the door and walk to the bar to feed her four beta fish, each a different color and each in their own bowl. She glided across her apartment in her stilettos, her dress ruffling around her knees.

The apartment smelled of vanilla and cinnamon candles she had lit earlier. He was being welcomed into her home, her charm, her grace, and he wasn't sure he would be able to control himself. He removed his jacket and draped it over the backrest of the chaise lounge.

"What are their names?" he asked as she fed the last fish.

Maggie turned and grinned, "This is Sammy," she said pointing to the dark green fish, "Pinkie," the pink one, "Hellfire," the red one, "And this is Stinky, or Spot, but his nickname is Stinky cause he has the worst bowl to clean out."

John came to her side and bent down to look at the separated fish, "My oldest, Abby, has a pink beta, like that one. He tries to jump out of his bowl too much for my comfort."

Maggie giggled, "Yeah, I used to have one that liked attempted suicide as well. I put a screen over it and held it with a rubber band. It worked well."

John smiled, "I can't believe I didn't think of that. Good tip. Thank you fish lady," he teased her.

She shook her head and sashayed her way into the kitchen. John couldn't help but watch her hips sway and enjoy the ruffle her petticoat gave. He eyed her stocking legs for the first time. He knew they were stockings, this time he was sure. His cock stirred in his khakis as he watched her move. He settled down onto the chaise to block his view and calm down.

Maggie returned with a white frosted cupcake and a napkin and handed it to John. "Enjoy," she said with a warm smile and sat down next to him. She could feel her heart beating in her throat, making it hard for her to breathe.

John took a big bite out the cupcake, smearing icing into his mustache. "This is really good," he said covering his mouth as he chewed.

She winked and patted his thigh, "I have more where that came from."

John coughed and then took another nervous bite of his treat. Did she want him as badly as he wanted herWas this all his imagination built on a fantasy that turned into a deep-rooted infatuation? He didn't know her well, but he knew he needed to have her. Somehow. He ate slowly, enjoying the perfect cupcake, in this perfect apartment, with this perfect woman.

Maggie looked at him shyly, like she wanted to say something but kept her lips sealed. He finished the treat and wiped his mouth with the napkin.

"John."

"Yes, Maggie?"

She looked away for a brief moment then back at him, his face seemed to hide the angst bubbling inside him. "What time do you need to be home?"

He looked at his watch, "Sometime between now and an hour or so."

Maggie rubbed her lips together before speaking, "Would you like to lay in bed with me?" John raised a brow. "Not sex, just lay in bed. I know it's weird. I just want to lie together. I promise, I won't do anything bad."

John turned a bit flushed. He wanted to pick her up, take her to bed and ravish her. Not tonight. At least he didn't think that would be tonight. "Sure," he said.

Maggie stood and held out her hand for him to take and follow her into her room. He took it and followed close behind, watching her bum bounce as her hips swayed. He adored the red sash high on her waist and how it drew his attention to the curve of her chest. She looked over her shoulder to him as she opened the door to her bedroom.

Once again, he was delighted with the tranquility her apartment exuded. He stepped out of his shoes and left them below the foot of her bed. She chose the right side by her night table and sat down.

His pulse pounded as she crossed her legs and the skirt of her dress rode up and flowed down. He could see the taste of nude lace across her thighs a shiny purple garter attached. His cock stirred in reaction.

Maggie bent at her waist and leaned over, her cleavage inviting his eyes. He took a stuttering breath as she delicately unbuckled the ankle strap of her heels. Her bosom gave a delightful jiggle as she switched legs. John licked his lips as she took off her other shoe, and then pulled his eyes away. He went to the left and sat down on top of her crisp white down comforter.

He waited until Maggie laid back and he followed suit, falling into the soft fluffy pillows. Her bed was supportively soft. He always loved soft beds, but his wife wanted the really firm bed because it was better for her back. He let out a satisfied and content sigh.

Maggie smiled over at him, her hair beautifully draped across the pillows. She rolled over onto her side and softly laid her hand on his chest, stroking the silk of his tie. John scooted over a little, lessening the space between their bodies.

Maggie draped her leg over his, her fluffy skirt strewn over the bed. She closed her eyes breathing in his scent, complemented with light cologne. John closed his eyes and brought her closer with his arm around her back, hand resting on her side, just under the curve of her breast.

"John," she said, looking up, trailing her fingers softly around the outline of his goatee.

His organ pulsed in his slacks as he ran his hand over her curve, fingers barely grazing the side of her bust. He felt the smooth fabric over her dress scratch under his roughened fingertips. He didn't answer, instead he relaxed in the moment, her warmth against him, nervous but content with Maggie so close.

"I have a confession to make," Maggie whispered, lifting her face so she could see his eyes. Their noses were close, barely nuzzling each other. "I've, um, I've been thinking about you since the day we met. I'm sorry, but I can't help it."

John blinked his eyes and lifted his hand, caressing her cheek, "I know, I've felt it too."

Maggie rested her forehead against his, and laid her head on his pillow. Their lips so close. It felt like sparks were passing between them. "I want you, but it's wrong. I need you, but you're married. I don't want you to cheat," she said as she trailed her fingers down the buttons of his shirt, carefully feeling his body.

Their mouths brushed against the others as they spoke, too timid to press together, but oh, so close. Every touch made Maggie and John both grow warm.

"I've never thought about cheating," John said slowly, the words making him sting inside. "But, I met you and now it's all I can think about."

Their pulses grew steadier in unison, audible in their breaths. John traced his fingers along the lines of her jaw and collarbone, his other hand holding her. Maggie's nose brushed against his and her palm flattened and rubbed his lower stomach, fingers daring to keep going.

"I could care for you, John. Maybe even love you. I could give you what you need and desire," Maggie said. Her words making John's manhood ache as he fought with morality. "But I can't and it hurts."

John used his hand to angle her head down and pressed his lips against her forehead, "I know," he said after gently kissing her.

Maggie pushed her fingers down, grazing over the erection evident beneath his pants. She rubbed for a moment, John let out a hoarse groan feeling her hand on him, knowing the pleasure it would bring.

Suddenly she pulled her hand away like she had touched something scalding hot, "Sorry. I'm sorry," she said.

John took her wrist and shook his head. He placed her hand back over his crotch and she obediently massaged his strained cock.

"See what you do to me. Do you see how you make me feel?" John whispered.

She whimpered and rubbed her stockinged toes against his calf. Her hand cupped and rubbed against him.

John groaned, "No one else has touched me for fifteen years, Maggie."

Maggie rubbed her thighs together under her dress, her panties damp. His arousal prominent to her, she felt the ridge of his head through the clothing.

"I want this so bad," she whispered, stroking her hand against him, her fingers reaching all the way behind his balls. "I don't want to be a bad person. I don't want people to get hurt."

John covered her forehead in tender kisses, moaning against her face as she groped him. "You're not a bad person. Naughty, maybe, but not bad." He leaned away from her so he could see her eyes. They looked so concerned, yet full of lust. "But not tonight. If this is going to happen, it won't be tonight. I have to get home. But god, Maggie, I want you. But not tonight, okay?"

Maggie slowly pulled her hand away and nodded, "I understand."

"Are you upset?"

"No," she said. "I'm not. You're married. I can never be upset. Just know there's a girl here who wants you."

John smiled, "Be a good girl for me. If this is right, it will happen."

Maggie kept her eyes on his, biting her lip and nodding. "I'm sorry," she said hesitantly.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for. I took your invitation and came inside. I followed you to your bed. It's choices Maggie. You didn't make me do anything," he said rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone. "You're beautiful, you know that right?"

Maggie blushed and played coy, looking away.

John chuckled, "It's true. And trust me, It's hard to turn this down, but I have to get home."

Maggie leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Let me walk you out."

"I'd love that," he said. He then sat up, leaving her warmth behind and got his shoes back on.

Maggie watched him, propped up on her elbow. She slid out of her bed when he was ready. John held out his hand and helped her out of bed. She led him into the living room. He put his jacket on and Maggie kept a soft smile on her lips though inside she was aching. This was reality.

They got to the door and John looked down at her. "Be a good girl, for me," he said planting a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

"I'll miss you," Maggie whispered, reaching for the doorknob.

John nodded, "Just wait. The time will be right, someday."

Maggie opened the door and let him out. He walked through the courtyard back to his car, unable to believe that he turned her down. Maggie locked up and went back into her room, undressed herself, leaving her clothing in a heap on the floor. She threw a pink t-shirt on with her purple lace panties and crawled into bed. She rested her head on the pillow he was using and fell asleep breathing in his scent.

Days passed slowly. Maggie felt like this was all a dream and didn't want to push herself on him anymore. She fought with demons inside of her, begging her to act, begging her to do what she wanted.

On the way to work Wednesday morning, she found herself in the visitor parking lot of the university again. She picked up her purse and a sealed envelope out of the passenger seat and turned off her car. Her hands shook as she walked through the buildings. "Was this too much... Is this just a game?" she thought as she hurried through campus.

It was later this time. Late morning. It was too late for him to not have gotten to his office yet. She took a deep breath that came out in a fog before she opened the door. This time she new exactly where to go. Up the stairs to the second floor, take a left down to room 224, passed the other offices and weaving in and out of other professors and students.

As she approached her heart sped up. His door was open. She heard his voice coming out into the hallway accompanied with a voice of a young male. She stood next to the door and waited patiently, listening to John discuss the lecture topic from today with his student. Her fingers trembled. She continued to wait, rubbing her toes inside her pumps on the tile floor.

Several minutes later, the student came out of his office. She waited a few more moments, not wanting to be too obvious, and then she stepped into the doorway and rapped on his door. John looked up from his computer, delightfully surprised. He took in the view of her wearing a pink and red argyle sweater vest over a red button down, black slacks, a hint of stocking on the top of her foot inside her black heels. He was stunned, admiring how her layered top hugged against her tits that he had gotten so close to feeling in his hand. If only he had let down his guard.

John cleared his throat but his voice remained husky, "Maggie," he greeted her.

"Professor, do you have a moment?" she asked and smiled, admiring his tan tweed suit, complete with a very professor-like yellow bow tie. Anxiously, she rubbed the bead of her tongue piercing between her lips. The silver of her tongue stud caught John's eye. She kept reminding herself to be calm and professional.

He peered at her after the rims of his spectacles, "Come in, please. Have a seat."

Maggie walked into his office; the room exuded his fine choices and education. She walked slowly, looking at his degrees and the over stuffed bookshelf.

She stopped at the front of his desk, resting one hand on top of the beautiful worn cedar, "Thank you sir, but I don't need a seat. I just have something to give you," her voice was soft, nervous for anyone outside the office to hear.

John raised a brow and leaned towards her, "You do? Let's have it then."

"Yes, sir," Maggie placed the envelope on his desk and pushed it towards him.

Their fingers brushed and teased each other as he took the envelope. He leaned back in his chair, pressing all his fingers against the envelope. It felt soft and he knew something was in there besides a few sheets of paper, but he kept his cool.

"Thank you Maggie, I will get right on this after class."

She nodded and leaned further across his desk. John could smell her familiar sweet soapy aroma.

She whispered, "It's very important you are alone when it is opened." She placed her hand on top of his, traced his fingers with hers and then turned on her heel and left his office without another word.

John looked at the time; he hadn't opened the envelope and put it into the top drawer of his desk. He continued grading for the remainder of his office hour and another student came in with a few questions. His student continued with chatter passed his office time, he politely told him he needed to get to lunch and shuffled him out of his office. He closed and locked his door and sat back down behind his desk.

His stomach turned to anxious knots as he pulled the drawer open and laid the puffy envelope flat on his desk in front of him. "Professor Gottschalk" it said in beautiful flowing letters across the front. His mouth went dry as he opened it.

Green lace caught his eye, "Oh fuck," he mumbled. He dipped his fingers inside and pulled out the flimsy green lace with genuine care. He laid the panties down on the desk, running his fingers over the lace.

He examined the details. Soft green sheer lace with an innocent flower pattern was dominant over the expanse of the garment. In the middle of the front ribbons came up from the crotch to the top in a criss cross pattern closed off with a pretty silk bow of the matching green. The hip band was made solely of lace and met together at the back forming a sweet classy thong. He picked up the panties in his hand, rubbing his fingers together over the sexy womanly lingerie. John opened the letter than had accompanied the panties. He quietly read aloud:

John, I need you to know how much I want you. When I go to sleep, I keep myself warm with thoughts of you and hope I will be lucky enough to see you in my dreams. When I find myself daydreaming, you are always there. When I think about you, my heart speeds up and my body aches. I want you, John. I need you. The attraction I have for you is stronger than anything I have ever felt. I know it's terribly wrong and I won't push you anymore. You have my word. Just know that there is a girl who is plagued by thoughts of you, who desires to give you everything you want, who wants to fill the void inside you. I know you have needs that you can't deny. I know you used all your strength to not ravish me last week. But please, don't do anything because of me. Do it because you want to, and when you're ready, one day, you will be inside my panties. Until then, professor, know that you will be the object of my fantasies. Love, Maggie