Returning (so-called nontraditional) students always seem to have a different attitude about school. Benedick was no different.
A fastidious note-taker, he seemed to revel in sharing his opinions and fostering discussion in his classes. With a biting wit that sometimes flirted with political incorrectness, he seemed to have a knack for drawing classmates and professors alike into debates.
And so it was with her.
Benedick knew he was one of her favorites. He caught the sly smirk at his occasional remarks. He knew she understood that he sometimes played devil's advocate strictly for the purpose of encouraging his classmates to defend their points of view.
And she knew he relished those opportunities when she took him to task, forcing him to defend his own point of view. In truth, he rarely seemed to win those encounters with her. But he never seemed bothered by it. In fact, she noticed that each time she engaged him in that repartee he catalogued her responses for future use, making each challenge tougher than the previous one.
This was what a professor loved to see. This was a student who loved the subject, devoured knowledge and knew how to apply it.
So it was odd that late morning after Beatrice's final class.
As she stood with her back to the door, wiping the day's remarks from the whiteboard, she heard his familiar voice. A solid, self-assured, deeper-than-average voice.
"Professor?" he said.
She turned to find him leaning against the door frame, book under his arm. His faded jeans did little to conceal the muscular thighs beneath and his broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his black T-shirt.
Recognizing him, her eyes flared briefly, recalling the spirited conversations they'd had.
"Benedick," she said, "come in. What can I do for you?"
"I wanted to talk to you about something," he told her, walking into the empty classroom and shutting the door behind him.
"I have office hours this afternoon," she told him, feeling the heat from his smoldering glaze. Somehow, his presence was imposing, but not threatening. A strong-willed woman, Beatrice had never been one to shy away from conflict, but something about this man made her question her fortitude.
He stood before her, slightly closer than teacher and pupil should be. She looked up at him, noticing the faded scars along his strong jaw and wondered briefly how they got there.
"I'd prefer to do it now," he said with just a hint of a smile.
"Oh," she said, taking a step towards the desk to retrieve her bag, an obvious attempt to put a little more distance between the two of them and give her a chance to retreat and regroup and re-establish a position of dominance.
"What's on your mind?" she asked trying to cover the slight quiver in her voice.
"I wondered if you offered any chance for extra credit," he asked as he confidently sidestepped, placing himself between her and the desk.
Beatrice immediately evaluated her position and stepped back, trying to act nonchalant as she found her back against the wall.
"You've got a good solid 'B'," she told him, "You don't need any extra credit."
She noticed his eyebrow raise slightly and saw his smoldering green eyes, seeming to look right through her.
He took another step forward and now they were separated only by inches.
"Would you please step back," she asked, trying to sound stern, but unable to control the quiver in her voice.
She reached out to put her hand on his broad chest to press him back, but his hands snapped forward, catching her wrists and he stepped forward again. Now he was pressed against her. Her wrists pinned against the wall.
"You get off me this instant," she began to protest, but found the last word muffled as he bent his head down and pressed his mouth hotly against hers.
Her lips still parted, his tongue darted into her mouth and she felt her knees go weak. Her head spun as she tried to wrap her mind around this turn of events. Her logical side told her to fight off this imposition.
Her sensual side, however, betrayed her. The side that she had thought was so well-controlled now raged to the surface and she found herself kissing him back.
"You can't do this," she panted as he broke the kiss and looked at her.
She looked at him through half-lidded eyes and felt her tongue slide across her lips, tasting him. She cursed herself silently for being so easily controlled by this man.
"But I am doing it," he told her with a mischievous grin, "And you're not going to stop me. Are you?"
She knew he was right. She wouldn't stop him, though she felt he would stop if she seriously wanted him to.
Problem was she didn't want him to and she knew he knew it.
Moving her wrists above her head, he grasped both of hers with one powerful hand. His long, slim fingers wrapped around her wrists. She put up a token struggle, realizing the part she was expected to play.
His free hand pulled her shirt up and over her head. As it reached her wrists, he brought her arms down behind her and twisted the fabric, binding her arms together.
She felt the cold surface of the whiteboard on her bare shoulders and she shivered.
He reached behind her with one hand and with a quick twist, she found her bra unclasped. Her arms now hanging limply at her sides, he untwisted the shirt that bound them, slipping it off and her bra along with it.
Her nipples, already hard, stiffened more as the cool air from the air conditioning, blew across them.
"We can't do this," she tried to protest.
He ignored her and she heard his zipper being pulled down. She glanced down and saw his pants drop to the floor. With a combination of fascination, desire and fright, she saw him pulling a sizeable cock out of his black briefs.
He stroked his cock slowly a couple of times and then took her hand in his and placed it on the throbbing shaft.
Instinctively, she wrapped her fingers around it, feeling it pulse in her hand. It was as rigid as a bar of iron and yet as soft as velvet. The head, growing shinier and larger as it filled with blood, flared from the shaft in a smooth ridge.
She stared at it, transfixed.
He lifted her skirt and slipped a finger beneath her panties and felt her wetness.
She sighed at his touch, slightly embarrassed at being betrayed by her own reactions.
His rough, calloused hands worked their way under the waistband of her panties and he tugged them determinedly down over the curve of her hips.
"What do you think you're doing," she rasped. "This is wrong. I'm married. We can't do this. Not here."
But her body refused to move, allowing him to drop her panties to the floor.
Another quick motion and his T-shirt was over his head and on the floor.
She felt his cock pulsing in her hand as he moved, it pressed against the smooth taught skin of her stomach.
He reached down, took hold of her ass and in a single motion, lifted her up and pulled her to him.
His cock slipped between her legs, sliding along the slickened cleft of her labia. She felt her breasts flatten against the firm muscles of his chest as he held her close, supporting your small frame easily in his powerful hands.
"Oh please," she whimpered against his neck, feeling him throbbing against her clit.
"Please what?" he demanded, grinning.
For a moment, she thought she was going to maintain her resolve and ask him to let her go. But when she lifted her head and her pale blue eyes met his deep green eyes, she realized that her mind wanted the same thing her body wanted.
"Please," she repeated, and then added, "fuck me."
A final step forward and he pinned her forcefully against the wall. She wrapped her legs around his waist and tilted her hips slightly. He tilted his the opposite direction and suddenly his thick shaft was splitting her, forcing its way past her labia and into the warm, tight depth of her vagina.
They both sighed as he plunged forward, stopping only when he was fully immersed in her and they both felt the head of his cock nudging her cervix, filling her to her limits.
With her legs already around his waist, she threw her arms around his neck, feeling the tight cords of muscles and tendon stand out as his body tensed and he began thrusting into her.
She moaned, feeling his powerful hands controlling her motion as he lifted her easily and then lowered her, practically dropping her onto his rigid cock, only to repeat the cycle again and again and again.
She felt herself being pummeled by his large cock and she luxuriated in each deliciously forbidden thrust as she felt her muscles rippling, urging him into her, inviting him deeper.
His hands, squeezing her ass, continued lifting and lowering her, repeatedly filling her. His hands slid farther back cupping her ass and she suddenly gasped as one finger slid into her ass. She arched her back and tightened involuntarily around the invading digit, but still he pushed. Firm, but gentle pressure kept his finger, lubricated with her own wetness, sliding into her ass. First the tip popped past the ring of her sphincter and then she felt his first knuckle pass the opening.
He continued to pound his cock into her as his finger continued to slip into her ass. Finally, he was in her fully. His cock pressed against the opening of her womb and his finger in her ass to the second knuckle and she could feel the two invaders, separated by the thin membrane inside her.
She gave herself to him fully and at that moment, her body belonged to him.
He turned, walking easily, as though it were completely natural to have her wrapped around him and his cock buried inside her. He practically masturbated himself as he felt his own finger in her ass, sliding along the length of his cock.
He laid her down on her back on the broad desk and reached behind himself, grabbing her ankles.
He placed them on his shoulders, now glistening with a light sheen of sweat and he felt the backs of her thighs against his stomach.
With her legs against him, she found herself penetrated more deeply than ever before. The feeling was intense, full to overflowing. She felt as though she were at the limit of here endurance, yet she wondered if she could take more of him inside her. She realized that she wanted to consume him and be consumed by him.
His thrusts were more powerful now and as he wrapped his arms around her legs, one hand reached down and grazed against her clit, sending shocks through her body.
"Mmmmm. Like that, don't you," he grinned, sounded almost sardonic.
His fingers toyed with the little button, teasing and stroking it gently. The gentle touch of his fingers was a counterpoint to the pounding she was receiving from his cock.
Suddenly, she began to get wetter and in a spasm that burst on her like a roman candle, she was wracked by orgasm.
She shuddered and moaned and her body twisted as his hammering cock kept pushing her to higher and higher peaks until at last her nerves seemed to burst, flooding her entire being with a rush of pleasure.
She moaned and wailed, the sound a cross between pleasure and pain as the intensity of her orgasm tumbled on to her like an avalanche.
He gritted his teeth and continued his rhythm while her orgasm slowly subsided, jumping occasionally to spasmodic peaks before descending into a valley of relaxation. Each peak slightly lower than the last until she felt just a low rumbling deep inside and the tingling buzz of nerve endings taken to extremes.
When he sense returned and she opened her eyes to see his smiling face and caring eyes, she knew he had give her exactly what she wanted. Even if she hadn't known she wanted it. Somehow he knew.
She sat up, dropping her legs to his sides and put her hand on the back of his neck.
She pulled his mouth against hers with a force that surprised them both. She kissed him deeply, their tongues lashing against each other and breathing into each other's mouths.
Her hands slid down his back and, as she scooted to the edge of the desk, she pulled his ass to her.
She grinned up at him and it was his turn to gasp as he felt her finger invade him. She pressed a finger deep into his ass, sending shivers through him as she pulled him against her. And then, with her finger buried in his ass, she controlled his motions, forcing him to slow down when he felt the come start to rise in his balls. He felt that slow tingle growing almost to a dull ache as his orgasm started to demand release.
She kept his strokes slow, teasing him, as her finger stroked in and out of his ass, pressing against his prostate and making his impending orgasm build even greater potential.
Still she controlled the speed and the depth of his motion, refusing to let him speed up or deliver a full stroke.
"Now you want to come too, don't you?" she asked.
His answer was little more than a guttural growl, and she saw his jaw muscles clench.
"Then go ahead and fuck me," she told him, jabbing her finger deep into his ass and returning control to him.
He grabbed her hips and withdrew almost completely before slamming into her again, a rapid, almost frenzied rhythm. He pistoned his cock into her and he felt his legs begin to shake as orgasm began boiling up from his balls and expanding until it erupted like a volcano, spewing his molten charge into her and she felt his cock pulsing and twitching inside her as he came.
His legs began to buckle and he leaned forward, supporting his weight on his hands as he felt her milking his cock with muscular contractions and he could hear, as though far away, her slight giggle at the almost complete incapacitation his orgasm imposed on him.
As his orgasm ebbed and his senses returned, they looked at each other, Rivulets of sweat dripped from his dark hair onto the light skin of her chest. Gravity directed the droplets through her cleavage to pool in her navel. With a grin, she reached down and spread it across her stomach and chest, giving herself a moist sheen.
"I think you're argument needs work," she told him in mock seriousness.
"Be in my office at noon tomorrow. There are some things we need to go over again."
"Yes ma'am," he replied in mock submission.