Divine Job Benefits Ch. 04

They'd never spoken before. Scott always thought she was pretty, but he was a little shy himself and never felt like he had a natural approach. Now that sense of desire and power surged up in him again. This time he heeded it. Herald of Aprhodite, he thought. Safeties are on. Let's see how far this goes. Scott took up a spot to wait beside her. "Hi. We've never spoken before, have we?" He held out his hand. "I'm Scott."

"Christie." She took his hand gladly, perking up further at his touch, but stopped herself from speaking twice as if she wasn't sure what to say. She didn't want to let go. "Um. Hi."

"I'm not interrupting anything by talking to you, am I?" he asked.

"No! No, it's fine. I'm just..." Christie seemed to struggle with it. She still didn't let go. "Shy. I'm shy," she admitted, almost apologizing for it.

"Nothing wrong with that. Would it help if I'm not shy for the both of us?"

"Yes. Would you?" she answered quickly. "Oh god, you're joking."

"It's fine," he said. "Not holding anything against you."

"Sorry folks, held up in a meeting," came the professor's voice. She worked her way through the crowd on her way in. "Let's try to get started quickly?" Students followed her into the room.

"Timing," said Scott. He turned back to find Christie with a pleading, almost desperate look he understood perfectly. Growing more accustomed to the reaction he was getting from women, Scott realized just how badly she wanted him already. A moment of friendly talk was enough. She worried her moment had been lost. Again, his desires stirred. Damn, this felt good. "Do you want to talk after class?" he asked. Christie nodded. "Then I won't go anywhere on you. C'mon."

As they turned to go inside, they found Frank waiting at the door. He was bigger and thicker, staring coldly at Scott. "Oh, hey Frank," Scott grinned. "Forgot you'd be here." It was completely true, too: Christie had made him forget all about an enemy only steps away.

"Uh-huh. After you," said Frank.

There were still students filing in. Following after Christie, Scott didn't even have to watch for Frank's attempt to trip him. Instead, Scott stomped Frank's ankle against the door frame. "Aw, fuck!" Frank blurted out as he fell.

"Aw, you okay?" asked Scott. He watched Frank rise and limp off. So did half the class and their professor. "Gotta be careful where you step."

* * *

Class dragged for Scott. It wasn't the professor's fault. She was a good lecturer. The material was interesting, or should've been. Scott took notes now and again, but he wasn't up to his usual diligent standards. He kept looking to Christie...who looked back at him with deeply serious eyes.

She was nervous, shy, and ached for him more and more as time went on. They hardly spoke, but he could see it. Scott trusted those perfect instincts given to him by the goddess herself and the encouragement she gave to exploit them. A little more conversation and open flirting would have gotten her to this state far sooner, but even without words, Scott could see her falling deep into arousal. Hell, she'd had her eyes locked on him the moment he first approached in the hall. She hid it well enough from anyone else, but he knew.

Scott looked once or twice to Frank, but didn't worry about him. At the end of class, Frank took off right away. Other classmates moved out at an easy pace. Scott offered Christie his hand as they both got out of their seats. Her eyes met his, saying everything that couldn't get out of her mouth.

"The classroom across the hall is usually empty for this hour," he said softly. "I think we'll be alone there."

It was all he had to say. Christie nodded and walked with him. Feeling good all morning to begin with, Scott now felt his body come alive with arousal and anticipation. One glance at Christie told him she felt it, too. He took her hand and felt her tremble. She wanted it worse than he did and didn't want to let the feeling go.

He was right about the classroom. The door was unlocked, the shades lowered, no one inside. He remembered Aphrodite's promises about circumstance and convenience. He closed the door and hit the button on the handle to lock it once they were inside.

Just enough light poked through the shades to allow them to see. Scott turned to Christie, looking down into eyes that stared up at him full of nerves and anticipation. "We're safe in here," he said. "You're safe with me."

"I know." She nodded. "I don't...know what to say. I'm shy about this."

Scott smiled a little bit. They hardly spoke, yet she knew exactly why she was here and what she wanted, and didn't doubt that for a second. "Ever been with a guy before?" he asked.

"Yes. Clumsy stuff in high school and after. Never felt like this," said Christie. She blushed, almost pleading. "Maybe I'm shy about you. I feel like I'm already screwing it up."

"You can't," said Scott. "Trust me to back off anytime you want. Say the word. Don't worry about anything else."

For an instant, she seemed like she was about to say something. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. With Scott kissing back, some of her nerves melted, but her desire made up for any relaxation that might have given her. Christie's tongue plunged into his mouth, kissing with more hunger than technique. The moment his kiss gently pushed back, she surrendered all of that space and welcomed more. The kiss said everything.

He could've had her without the conversation. He read that perfectly. This was still nicer and gentler than he needed to be. Christie knew her desires. Everything else was magic. If he was a little considerate with her looking so vulnerable, that was fine, but there was no need for gingerly discussing anything now. He felt how much she wanted it. He felt how badly, too.

Christie didn't want romance. She wanted to get fucked. Just like he wanted it, too.

His pants and her skirt came loose and undone in a flash of hands. Scott picked her up by her pert, tight ass and carried her to the wall. Christie wrapped herself around him, easy for him to hold up while one hand pulled her panties aside. He thought he felt lace, but this wasn't about long looks or foreplay.

Hard and upright, Scott teased her with only one stroke along her labia to find her soaking wet. He had no trouble handling her weight. Christie tensed in his arms and whined with pleasure, but he didn't tease any longer. Lowering her just enough, Scott pushed his hips upward for a long, slow penetration. The first instant made Christie tense again but he pushed right in through her resistance. Tight pussy gripped him and welcomed him with every inch. She announced her surrender with a moan directly into his mouth.

A second slow thrust gave them a chance to cope with the sensation. A third made it real. Every push seemed to blow her mind. Christie stayed wonderfully tight but outwardly she melted down in his arms. Her kiss fell away. One look at her face assured him she was overwhelmed and loving it. Scott didn't feel all that differently as he penetrated her again, and again, feeling far too good to stop if he didn't have to. He soon picked up the pace.

Scott fucked his lithe blonde playmate against the wall, drinking in the feel of her body and the sounds of her pleasure and feeling like a god. Like Aphrodite wanted him to feel. Christie let go of her last inhibitions and breathless pleas for more in his ear as he fucked her out of her mind. Soon she felt too good to say even that much, but at least it wasn't an inhibition. She let go of her pleas and gave in to the ride.

It wasn't long before her first orgasm. Christie tightened around him, whined and shook, giving him a new pleasant sensation all along his cock as he fucked her through it to prolong the experience. Scott thought he might let go, too, or maybe not. It didn't matter. She whispered, "More," and he provided.

"Please... more," she whispered again as tears rolled down her face. He could taste them in her kiss. He kept fucking her until she melted down in his arms and on his cock all over again. It was the second joyous meltdown that set him off. Scott pumped her full of his release, every spasm delivering more satisfaction. Christie reacted to it, too, as if his cum gave her all new reason to get off. In his haze of passion, Scott suspected exactly that. He had divine advantages in all this.

He also had a new friend: lovely, unguarded, and utterly his. The last was a matter of instinct, but he knew enough to trust those now.

Christie cooled down from her orgasmic thrill in his arms and still wonderfully impaled on his cock. She groaned happily, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Thank you," she told him. "I didn't...I was afraid to speak, but you knew what I wanted." She picked her head up to look in his eyes. "We don't even know each other."

"Think broke a lot of that ground just now," Scott grinned.

"Yeah." She kissed him. Fucking had turned to cuddling, still against the wall, still penetrated and still so good for both. "How did you know?"

"This might not be the first time," he said, looking up with joking innocence.

"Wow. Yeah, I'll bet. Can we do it again?"

"Yes. I'd like that."

"I don't...is it okay if I'm not looking for much else?" She hesitated only to find words, but all the shyness from before was gone. She wasn't afraid of anything now. "I hope we're friends, but I don't know if I have time for a boyfriend? Or the headspace. Life is crazy. God, I want more of this. No matter what."

"The 'no matter what' is I've got a couple girlfriends. They'll be cool. No reason to hide."

Her eyes sparkled with a new nervous energy and a smile. "Really?"

"You and I can be just between you and I if you want, but you're safe with them. Promise."

"Wow." She closed her eyes and gyrated against him to enjoy his dick. "That sounds like fun, too. When's your next class?"

"Soon," he said. A single slow thrust had her back on cloud nine. "Not too soon, though."

* * *

A confrontation at his next class seemed like a foregone conclusion. Frank knew he was back at school. All four of Scott's attackers would be there, at a class run by the professor who covered for them for one reason or another. The trip had been organized separately from the class; most of his classmates hadn't gone, while a few on the trip weren't in the class at all. Word had to have gotten around, though. The professor was contacted by Greek police. Scott hadn't shown up for the flight home. He didn't know what anyone else knew, or what anyone might believe.

He didn't expect Professor Winston to be waiting at the door for him. The professor had to be in his fifties, salt and pepper hair and a goatee, dressed in slacks and a polo shirt. He seemed like the kind of guy who did, in fact, play polo, or maybe hung out at country clubs for it. Beyond the professor, Scott noticed all four of his attackers lingering near the front of the classroom: Doug Peters, Frank McAlister, John Versace, Nick Martin.

They all noticed him, too. No one avoided eye contact. They all looked tense rather than cocky or aggressive. None of them spoke. It was only a fleeting glance; the professor got right in Scott's way. "Mr. Murphy, we need to speak outside. Right away." He gestured with one hand as if to block the way inside. His no-nonsense demeanor said the rest.

"Okay?" said Scott. He did as the professor asked.

"I want to start by saying I regret what happened on the trip. Obviously, I don't want anyone hurt or separated from the group. Street crime happens everywhere. It's an unfortunate fact of life. What concerns me now is your accusation against four of your classmates. I can't have this blowing up in my classroom."

"So they've already talked to you about it?" Scott asked. He hadn't forgotten how Winston handled the whole thing by ignoring it, and ignoring the student left in the hospital overseas.

"You filed a police report. You went to the embassy. That's the State Department," Winston said in a grave tone. "I'd say you were just mistaken after being traumatized, but you've made it official."

"Wait, what?" Scott blinked.

"I can't have a disruption of my class, Mr. Murphy. I'm afraid you'll have to step away from the class until this is resolved."

"Step away?" Implications ran through his mind, both for what this meant to his coursework and in the context of the attack. "You're talking about this like it was a scuffle. They put me in the hospital."

"Yes, and here you are hale and hearty only a couple days later," Winston frowned. "Yet by your account this was a vicious assault. You hardly look like the victim of a serious crime."

Scott's eyes flared. "Those assholes attacked me, so I'm the one who has to stay out of class?"

"I have nothing but your accusation to go on and details are thin," Winston said. He kept pushing beyond skepticism with his tone of voice. "I will not have a disruption. University rules are clear. I can remove a student from the class to avoid disruption, and that's what I'll do. You can file an appeal with the university if you like. You are barred from class until this is resolved. I have to get back to my class now, Mr. Murphy. Good day."

Winston retreated through the door and closed it before Scott could come up with any follow-up challenge. This wasn't what Scott expected at all. Staring at the door, he realized it wasn't that strange; he'd heard plenty of stories of women who reported assaults by fellow students getting even worse treatment. That usually involved some bureaucracy, though; this was the professor laying it all down like he ran the show himself.

If anything, Scott was more convinced than ever that Winston had some role in protecting his attackers. Even if he wasn't connected beyond being their instructor, if this was how Winston handled this sort of incident, fuck him.

Scott got walking for the administration building. He'd have to talk to a counselor, maybe or one of the people in the dean's office. Someone. He pulled out his phone and hit the school's app to see if it had some guidance. "Departments" seemed like the default link, but then the options got less clear. He wound up navigating to the history department, wondering if there was something to list which dean or ombudsman or whatever handled issues there... and stopped when he saw the inset picture of the department chairwoman.

"Nah," he said to himself, except he kept looking at her. "No way," he said again, despite liking the wavy blonde hair and cool blue eyes and the smile looking back at him. "I can't..." he began, except for how literally everything since waking up in the hospital told him yes, he absolutely could. And it was how his boss encouraged him to "solve problems." And she had made clear, beyond any doubt, how she liked it scandalous.

Maybe she wouldn't be in her office. Maybe she wouldn't be interested, for whatever reason. No sense taking it for granted. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions...except he was pretty sure he knew exactly how this would play out.

* * *

Julia had only one more email to go before her inbox hit zero. Requests, reviews, arrangements, and replies were all sent. She even wrote up a scholarship recommendation letter while plowing through the list. Spring break gave her time to catch up on everything else from grading papers to next semester's syllabus. For once, she was on top of everything.

It probably helped that she had nothing better to do than work through spring break. She let out a grim, silent laugh. "Helped." Sure, because divorce and a week off while all her friends were out of town or locked down with family obligations was so helpful. Sure. Living the dream.

Julia sighed. She was, in fact, better off divorced. The tragedy was in letting her husband walk all over her all through her thirties. It wasn't as if her therapist ever said, "Ditch him already," but his professional poker face cracked with relief when Julia told him she'd finally pulled that trigger. After wasting a decade on a guy who took advantage and took her for granted, she was finally free. The last papers came during the spring break, too. It was official.

Now she wasn't sure where to begin again. Dating? How? People told her she was attractive and charming, but people said lots of things. People said being department head would be a snap, but it turned out to be as much work as she dreaded. At least she got her own office out of the deal rather than splitting with another professor like the rest. If she could catch up with all her work, though, maybe she'd find time for herself. Or maybe she'd find time to figure out how to do that.

One last email, just a reminder about graduation gowns, and she could...what? Take a break? Was that even a thing?

A knock on her door coincided with the last click on the "Send" tab. She threw her arms up. "I'm done! I'm done," said Julia. She looked to her open doorway. "Before lunch, even."

"Congrats," said the office aide. He coughed into his elbow. "Hey, there's a student to see you. He doesn't have an appointment, though."

"That's fine," said Julia. Then her eyes narrowed playfully. "Unless it's another fraternity thing. I'm not signing anymore frat petitions. I didn't know I was voting for pineapple on pizza."

"No, I think this is serious." He coughed again.

"That throat sounds serious. Nobody should be sick this time of year. Why don't you go home?"

"I need the hours." The office aide shrugged. "No sick time."

"Yeah, but everyone's out for the next couple of hours and I can answer phones." Julia lowered her voice to a whisper and added, "Also I'm pretty sure I sign your time card. If you don't tell anyone, I won't."

"Oh god, serious? Thank you. I'm dying."

"Go die at your own place," she laughed. "Send him in."

The aide disappeared. Julia glanced back to her computer screen to assure herself of that neatly cleaned-out inbox. She looked back to the door when her visitor appeared...and her breath caught in her throat. Her heart skipped a beat. Other sensations stirred at lower points in her body that weren't supposed to react this way to the sight of students.

"Dr. Moore?" he said. "Hi, I'm Scott. You're the history department head, correct?"

"Y-yes?" she responded. It wasn't anything in particular about him, except for how every little particular thing filled her with butterflies. Everything from his eyes to his smile to his utterly ordinary jeans and t-shirt, and oh that voice. Her breath deepened. "Have a seat," she said, before realizing she didn't know if he needed only a minute or an hour. She hoped it was closer to the latter.

"Thanks," he said, and took the chair in front of her desk.

Just watching him move was a treat. Good-looking young men abounded on campus, of course. She wasn't blind. Attraction was a whole different matter. That was a solid no-go line for so many reasons. It wasn't just a matter of rules or regulations, but one she actually felt...except for everything inside telling her no, this is different. This is a legitimate exception.

She swallowed all of that. She could keep her wild feelings to herself. "What can I do for you?" she asked, and immediately shut down several delicious but wildly inappropriate thoughts that sprang to mind.

"I'm not sure. That's what I came to ask. I don't want to make this too long a story, so I'm sorry if it comes across as dramatic, Dr. Moore."

"Call me Julia, please. Take your time," she said. Whatever kept him looking at her...especially when he smiled at her like that. Or at all. Wow...

...and then he gently turned the meeting into a different kind of serious. "I was on Dr. Winston's trip to Greece over spring break. I'm the guy who got jumped and missed the flight home."