A Surprising Reunion

The following day, I did something I'd never done before: I pulled a sick day. My head was still a mess, and I needed space to think.

Kaila had left messages, insistent and urgent, demanding we talk. Whatever. She could wait until I knew what to say. Part of me was itching to confront her—call her out for dragging me into this crazy situation. Yet, fear held me back. What if it made her more likely to tell someone?

A smaller, reckless part of me, simultaneously fantasised about continuing what we'd started. I even caught myself daydreaming about secret rendezvous, before jolting back to reality. I mean, come on, I was a grown man and an educator—her educator, no less. But the more I tried to dismiss these thoughts, the more persistent they became. I needed to get a handle on this, and fast.

I laced up my trainers and went on the longest run of my life. I probably covered half the city. Somewhere along the way I reached a decision. I had to end things with Kaila unequivocally. No more meetings, no more messages. A phone call seemed the best approach, a way to maintain control and establish clear boundaries. Face-to-face felt too risky, too vulnerable.

Returning home, physically drained but mentally resolute, I was in the midst of drying off from a shower when the doorbell rang. At first I ignored it, but they were persistent. I rolled my eyes. I knew who it would be: Mr. Peterson, my perpetually complaining neighbour. His grievances were usually trivial, often laughably so. The doormat incident still brought a smile to my face. What triviality had he cooked up this time? His car parking obsession, perhaps?

The doorbell rang again. Fine, I thought, feeling a surge of defiance. Let's give Nosy Peterson something to talk about. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I marched to the door and flung it open with gusto, ready to see Mr. Peterson's eyes pop out of his head.

To my horror, it wasn't Mr. Peterson. It was Kaila, looking just as shocked as I felt.

I stood there dumbfounded, wondering how she knew where I lived. Then it hit me—I'd given her my address, so she could come over Friday and, well, let things take their course... If that realisation wasn't enough to get my blood pumping, her appearance certainly was. She was wearing a tight, off-shoulder top in a deep red that shimmered subtly, complemented by black skinny jeans which hugged her legs wonderfully. Our eyes met, and I felt a jolt of electricity. I was all too aware of my lack of clothing and the compromising situation. Her eyes roamed over my towel-clad form, an almost shy expression on her face. In spite of myself, my body reacted. Oh, please no...

"I, um, didn't expect a fashion show," she quipped, her gaze momentarily darting away.

"Wasn't expecting an audience," I shot back. "What are you doing here?" I tried to steel myself with anger, hoping it would keep my arousal in check. If I hit full mast, it would be painfully obvious.

"Well, you weren't at your office, and you've ghosted me," she said, a hint of accusation in her voice. I bristled at her tone. What right did she have to be upset with me?

"And why should I answer?" I retorted. We locked glares. The tension was palpable, not helped by the way my gaze involuntarily drifted to her lips. They were a vibrant red, matching her top, and looked so god-damn kissable. Fuck. I deliberately looked away, running a hand through my hair. "Kaila," I said, trying to sound decisive, "this isn't appropriate. Whatever this is—it can't go on."

She stepped forward, her face determined. "You don't have the whole story."

I raised a hand, seeking to maintain distance. "Save it. I'll call you later. You need to go." I intended it as a dismissal, but she stood her ground.

"I'm not leaving until you hear me out."

I glared at her, but she met my gaze unflinchingly. I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was her camping out on my doorstep—people might see. With a frustrated sigh, I gestured inside. "Fine. But make it quick."

She stepped inside, scanning my place as I led her to the living room. "Wait here, I'll get some clothes—"

"I'm transferring," she cut in abruptly. Well, I did tell her to be quick. "I'm switching universities," she explained, her words hurried. "The last few years have been tough. Mum... she was sick, and I was balancing school, work, caring for her. It was a lot."

Her vulnerability surfaced at the mention of her mum. I felt a pang of empathy but suppressed the urge to comfort her.

She paused, her gaze drifting. "I had to take a lot of time off, and didn't expect to do well in my exams. Everything at home was overwhelming. But, my results were better than expected." She met my gaze, a hint of pride shining through. "I realised I had more options. I've applied for a transfer to Central through clearing," she said, more composed. "It's taking time, but I'll transfer at the end of the semester. And then, I won't be your student anymore."

I'll admit, I hadn't been expecting that. Her strength and resilience were evident, but I kept my admiration to myself.

"That doesn't change the fact that you are still my student," I said firmly. "Do you know what would happen if this got out? Especially after what happened with Lisa..."

"Who's Lisa?"

"A former student who made accusations, nearly destroyed my career. She admitted they were lies, but the damage... it never really went away."

Kaila's expression softened. "I had no idea."

"Lies do a lot of damage," I said pointedly.

"I didn't lie to you," she said quickly. "And I was planning to tell you, when the time was right."

"Like before our date, maybe?" I shot back, incredulous.

Kaila bit her lip, her usual confidence wavering. "Look, I'm sorry for not being upfront. I needed to see if there was something real here first." She blushed, confessing, "Truth is, I've thought about you over the years. When you approached me, it felt like fate. I wanted you to see me, not just another student." Her posture relaxed, as if she'd released a burden. "I was going to tell you, I promise. It's just—I thought if I told you right away, you wouldn't give this a chance. There's a real connection here, and I can tell you feel it too."

Her earnest words hung in the air, her flushed cheeks betraying the intensity of her emotions.

I caught my breath, feeling a surge of... something indescribable. The rarity of such a connection, one that truly shook you, wasn't lost on me. To hear her echoing that same intensity was astonishing.

Since discovering Kaila was my student, my mind had wandered into what-if fantasies. But those were just daydreams. In that moment, for the first time, I genuinely considered the possibility. We both harboured true feelings... I knew I could draw her into my arms, kiss her passionately—trail kisses down her slender neck, to her bare, inviting shoulders, and just keep going... It was only for a second—I quickly reined myself in, alarmed by my lapse of reason. What am I even thinking?

"Kaila," I began, my voice a mix of resolve and hesitation, "This is a lot to take in. Maybe, when you're at Central, we could... reconnect. As friends—"

She cut me off before I could finish.

"Friends?" She sounded incredulous. She stepped closer, reducing the distance I had carefully maintained. "We both know it's more than that." Her face neared mine, tilted upward, her eyes alight with a daring spark. Her familiar intoxicating scent enveloped me. "I understand why you're upset, but can we just... be honest about what we feel?"

Her hand found my bare chest, her touch stoking a fire that I'd been desperately trying to smother. I felt my body react; my erection swelling, as my heart hammered against my ribcage.

Gathering my strength, I fought back the impulse to draw her in, instead grasping her wrist and firmly moving her hand away. "Kaila, stop," I managed, with more steadiness than I felt. "We can't do this."

She searched my face, defiant, but it was the unmistakable desire in her eyes that threatened to undo me.

"I've heard you out," I continued, "but here's where we stand: first, you misled me. Deliberately. Second," I said, holding up two fingers to visually emphasise my points. "If anyone even suspects something's going on, my career is over. And third," I added, raising a third finger. "You're still my student."

She took a half-step back, her mouth opening as if she was about to say something, then changed her mind. Her eyes dropped, and for a moment, I thought I'd gotten through to her. But then, I caught the tightness in her lips, as she fought back a smile. And that's when it hit me—she was staring directly at the pronounced and undeniable bulge in my towel.

I froze, my mind scrambling for a response. My entire body tensed, inadvertently causing my hard-on to shift conspicuously.

Kaila's gaze lifted to mine, a suppressed smirk at the corners of her mouth. "Uh, I guess not all of you wants to be friends."

What could I say? I was embarrassed, but a guy can't talk his way out of a hard-on. I couldn't deny it, or pretend it wasn't for her.

She held my gaze, a triumphant glint in her eyes, as if she'd just clinched an argument. Her provocative stare seemed to throw down a challenge, as if waiting for—or daring—me to act.

My eyes involuntarily traced over her, from her alluring, confident expression, down that figure. I couldn't... could I? Her clothes hugged every curve, hinting at what lay beneath, stirring my imagination. No! I admonished myself. This isn't right...

"Kaila..." I began, my voice trailing off.

The doorbell rang, slicing through the charged atmosphere.

My heart leapt to my throat as I backed away from Kaila. An irrational fear gripped me—what if it was someone from work? "Stay here," I hissed, my voice edgy, as I hurried to the front door.

With shaky hands, I hastily readjusted my towel, which had embarrassingly transformed into an obvious tent at my waist. I secured the door with the chain, to preserve whatever dignity I had left, and cautiously opened it. I almost laughed when I saw who it was: Mr. Peterson.

"Hey," I greeted, trying to sound casual. It turned out that Mr. Peterson was embarrassed by my shirtless state. That had been the plan, but, oddly enough, I didn't care anymore. "I'm kind of in the middle of something," I added, hoping he would take the hint. At least his presence helped calm my hard-on.

"Oh, uh, well, right," he stammered awkwardly. "I noticed a car in John's usual spot. Anything to do with you?"

Likely Kaila's. I feigned ignorance and he finally left. Turning, I saw Kaila in the doorway, her expression curious.

"I told you to stay back there," I couldn't hide my irritation. Had he seen her? Unlikely, given the angle...

"Is your neighbour always that nosy?"

"You have no idea."

She laughed, a sound that, under different circumstances, I'd have found endearing. Before I knew it, she was beside me, her fingers grazing my forearm, a soft, disarming gesture.

A sudden surge of anger hit me.

I'd only just made a decision about handling this mess, when she'd waltzed in, stirring up my desires and upending everything again. It scared me, how my self-control had been teetering on the edge. The interruption had jolted me back to reality, shaking me up enough to break the spell I'd fallen under, and terrifying me with the realisation that it had happened at all. In that moment, my patience snapped.

"FOR GOD'S SAKE, KAILA!" I blurted, my voice rising, as I stepped back. "STOP!"

She began to respond defensively, but I cut her off abruptly. "You need to leave. Now." Before I do something I regret. I opened the door, motioning for her to go.

Kaila hesitated, searching my face. Seeing my resolve, her eyes flickered away, as though desperately searching for the right words. "Will you think it over? Then, maybe, we can talk again?" she asked, hopeful.

"Kaila, just go," I said, regret and resolution in my voice.

I thought I caught a flash of hurt in her eyes, as she gave me one final look. Then she turned on her heel and left.

I slumped against the closed door, releasing a shaky sigh. That had not gone well.

I pondered her final expression, trying to decipher it. What had she been expecting? Then I remembered that confident, triumphant look, when she'd realised, unambiguously, how turned on I was. For her.

My cock responded. I doubt I lasted five minutes before I gave in, grabbing a tissue and jerking off to her, like a horny teenager. It wasn't the first time, but it felt different: I hadn't known she was my student before. I was desperate for a release though. Guiltily, I tried to think of others: ex-girlfriends, celebrities—but it was futile. I quickly gave up, and even groaned Kaila's name out as I came.

*

The week unravelled quickly after Kaila's visit. I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd had a close call. What would have happened if the doorbell hadn't interrupted us? I wanted to believe I'd have stayed strong, yet deep down, I questioned my willpower. I'd been teetering on the edge; just a little persuasion from her might have tipped me over.

My mind was haunted by imagined seductive scenarios: Kaila whispering hotly in my ear, pressing herself against me, guiding my hands around her body—all the while that look of sexy confidence on her face. Shockingly, I found the idea of her taking control intensely arousing. Sometimes I'd snap out of those daydreams, but more often, I imagined myself succumbing. Maybe she'd have taken my hand and led me to my own bedroom...

One night I even woke up, imagining the what-ifs. I was so restless that I took a night-time bathroom break to jerk off, fantasising about throwing caution to the winds and screwing Kaila in my living room. Yeah, I was ashamed, but I was also getting used to it. Jerking off almost felt necessary; at least it let me take the edge off—for a while.

I was almost in disbelief that I'd actually contemplated crossing another line. Just days earlier, the idea of a relationship with a student had been unthinkable—now the notion of something real with Kaila had embedded itself in my mind. It was a subdued thought, still overshadowed by my voice of reason, but it was there. A part of me wanted to remain angry, to use that as a shield against those dangerous feelings. But in truth, my outburst at Kaila stemmed more from self-directed anger and a fear of losing control. Instead, I found myself admiring her honesty and courage, which only intensified my inner conflict. I also recognised that the greater responsibility lay with me—I should have been more cautious from the start. During our date, I'd said I wanted someone who pursued their desires. Had that encouraged her? Regardless, I needed to ensure that, whatever was between us remained a fantasy.

In the days that followed, I was constantly tense, half-expecting Kaila to reappear. Every ring of the doorbell, or knock on my office door, had me on edge, but it was never her. Even trivial things kept bringing her to mind: I stumbled upon a band I was certain she'd like, and wondered if she knew them. Of course, I didn't ask—I blocked her number and altered my routine, even Claud's, to avoid accidental encounters. Whether it made any difference, I don't know. Either way, it was a week before our paths crossed again.

It was a Thursday class and, as usual, I arrived early. While setting up, students started trickling in. As had become my habit, I discreetly scanned the room for Kaila. She wasn't there initially, but just as I started to relax, in she walked.

She wore a short, pleated plaid miniskirt, paired with a midriff-baring shirt and a small sweater. God dammit. I tried not to stare.

She hadn't attended my lectures before. Why now? It felt brutally unfair. She had dominated my thoughts and invaded my dreams, leaving me waking up tense and frustrated. And now, here she was, in my professional space too. I suppose I'd known she'd need to attend classes eventually; she'd already missed nearly three weeks. I'd even encouraged her with my comments on her first assignment. Nevertheless, understanding that didn't make the situation any easier.

I couldn't help notice some guys giving her appreciative looks, sparking a twinge of jealousy. Unlike me, they didn't have to concern themselves with professional boundaries... She seemed oblivious though, casually taking a seat and crossing her legs, twirling a pen between her fingers.

Turning quickly to my laptop, I dimmed the lights and started the lecture. In the dimmed classroom, my view of the students was limited, and I consciously resisted looking in her direction again. I even briefly felt proud of my restraint, until realising I shouldn't have such an impulse in the first place...

Initially, the lecture went smoothly—at least until Kaila subtly shifted in her seat, uncrossing and recrossing her legs, catching my eye. From my position, I had a direct view, and for a moment, I inadvertently saw up her skirt. I glimpsed her smooth tan legs but nothing more. I internally cursed and thanked the stadium seating design. She chewed on her pen absent-mindedly, seemingly unaware of the effect she was having. Then, she slipped the pen's end into her mouth. It seemed so natural, but I was temporarily transfixed. Realising I'd paused, I quickly refocused on the lecture.

The class continued without further incidents, until the final discussion. With the lights back on, the topic shifted to a complex theory. Kaila raised her hand to contribute, and reluctantly, I called on her—the only volunteer.

"Yes, uh, Miss...?" I feigned ignorance.

"Kaila," she said, with a hint of amusement.

I looked back at my papers.

"Don't you think the theory oversimplifies the issue?" Kaila asked. "In real-world applications, variables aren't usually that consistent."

"That's a perceptive observation, Kaila," I complimented, trying to maintain my professional demeanour. "The real world often presents variables that—"

I faltered, as our eyes met, momentarily losing my train of thought. The intensity in her gaze was disarming, evoking memories of our passionate kiss and the way she'd tempted me in my home.

"Uh, that—that the theory doesn't, uh, always consider," I finished awkwardly.

The room fell silent, and I noticed some students exchanging glances. Regaining my composure, I quickly concluded the class, deliberately avoiding Kaila's gaze.

Typically, a few students linger after lectures, engaging me about assignments or that day's topic. Being distracted, I didn't notice Kaila's presence until we were nearly the last two remaining. Her movements were measured, signposting her intention to speak with me. Alone. My heart sped up, a mix of anticipation and anxiety setting in. As the last student exited and the door clicked shut, she approached with a hesitant smile.

"Sorry if I was a distraction today," she said.

"It wasn't a problem," I lied, trying to put out a façade of indifference.

"I tried to give you a heads-up, but I think you've blocked me."

"That's right."

"You don't... hate me, do you?" Her voice was soft, vulnerable.

I sighed and glanced around, keen to keep this conversation private. "No, I don't hate you Kaila, and I'm not angry. Although perhaps I should be."

Her expression brightened. "That's good. The last time I saw you, you seemed angry, and, uh... animated. I'm glad you're not angry anymore, at least." She blushed slightly, and I felt my own face getting hot. "I just hope this isn't causing any problems for you?" I had the distinct impression she might actually be hoping the opposite.