Getting Political

My first story! Hope you like it!

A little bit of a slow burn. For the action, skip towards the end.

I was 18 years old. A lot older than most girls my age were when it first happened to them. I was never interested in any of the boys at my school. I had known most of them since they were young kids picking their noses and complaining about cooties. Besides, I kept busy trying to work a part-time job and make good enough grades to get into my dream university in DC. The tuition wasn't cheap, so I wanted to be prepared if I wasn't going to get a scholarship. Well, I got into the school and got the majority of the funding I had hoped for. So at the end of the summer, my mom and stepdad drove me 6 hours to my new home--a tiny dorm room that I was to share with another girl. I said goodbye to them. No tears were shed. I had been waiting for this day for a long time.

I settled into my apartment and started classes. I decided to spend the first few months studying, and then I'd get some kind of job (maybe a barista or waitress) to earn more money for future living expenses. But the first semester was just for learning and becoming whoever the hell it was I was going to be here.

The first few weeks were filled with parties. I've never really enjoyed typical parties. I preferred small gatherings. I tagged along with my roommate Gia and her friend Brynli for a couple, but after a few of them, I realized that the only way to have fun at these things was to be super wasted. And I hated feeling hungover for classes the next day. So whenever they went to the party, I started to make up excuses so I didn't have to go. And that's how I found myself telling them that I was training for a marathon and needed to go on runs. The perfect excuse. But I hadn't been a runner for years. So I ended up signing up for a gym pass at my local YMCA. Whenever they had a party they wanted me to go to, I went straight to the gym.

I could only run 1 mile at first, but over the next few weeks, I made it to 5 miles. And I didn't need the excuse of a party anymore, I was hooked. I started to go 5 nights a week. This is where he first noticed me. I already knew who he was, but more on that in a minute. I challenged myself to do 10 miles one Friday night. It was the first time I'd ever tried to run that many. I knew I could do 8, but 10 was maybe pushing it. I was on mile 3 when I noticed a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair get onto the treadmill next to me. He began to run and after a few miles, I felt the need to go faster than him.

I guess I'm competitive. I'd always been focused on the numbers. 100% or it felt like I failed type of thing. I know that's not a super healthy mindset, but it's just the way my brain goes sometimes. So I pushed my treadmill speed up a notch until I surpassed his speed. I was starting to sweat and get winded, but I only had 2 and a half miles left. So I pushed through until I noticed him start to speed up. I got faster. It wasn't fair that his legs were longer than mine, but I knew I could hold on just a little longer. I looked over at his treadmill to check his speed, and that's when I noticed him looking right at me. I almost stumbled and rolled my speed down and grabbed onto the sidebar for a second to catch my balance. It was my Intro to Comparative Politics professor. Professor Edwards. He stopped his treadmill and immediately hopped off. "I guess I'll forfeit this race. Are you okay?" I was breathless and nodded my head. "Didn't mean to scare you, it's just I was on the track team when I was growing up and used to race my mate on the tread while training and haven't had anyone push me that hard in a while."

I stopped my treadmill and grabbed the towel hanging on the side to wipe the sweat off my face. "I still have a mile to go if you want to finish the race fair and square," I told him. I was waiting for him to ask if he knew me or to tell me he recognized me from his course. (I mean, there were over a hundred of us in that course and I couldn't even recognize most of my peers.) But he seemed completely oblivious to the fact that I was his student. And a freshman at that. He smiled, and God he looked hot. I knew right then and there, I wanted him. And when I want something, I try my hardest to get it. "Deal." He put his hand out in front of me waiting for me to shake it. I firmly shook it. "Deal." My stomach was filled with butterflies. The adrenaline inside of me was about to burst. I was ready for it. He jumped back onto the treadmill, his ass looking absolutely juicy and tight. I don't even typically admire men's asses. But something about him made his ass look like it was sculpted by Michaelangelo.

"On your mark, get set, GO," I called out. The last stretch. Never mind the fact that I had never run this many miles in a row before. I had to beat him. We both were the fastest people in the gym, making everyone else look like they were working out in slow motion. I hit the 7-minute mark and knew I was so close to beating him. I made my last stretch, and after 9 other miles, it was the fastest I had ever been. 1.00. I slowed down the treadmill to catch my breath. He yelled out, "Fuck I'm getting old," and kept going for another 30 seconds. Finally, he also slowed down, grabbed his water bottle, and drank for like 20 seconds straight. "Well, when shall we schedule our rematch?" He asked me. I grabbed the cleaning spray to clean the fresh sweat off the tread and handed him the bottle. "You say when, and I'll be there."

"God, I haven't had fun like that in ages," he said. We started to walk toward the locker rooms, both of us still catching our breath.

"Same."

"Any chance you'd like to continue that fun?"

"I honestly feel like my legs are going to fall off if I run anymore tonight."

"Not running. Maybe some celebratory drinks on me." He looked at his watch. It was probably already 10 p.m. at this rate, but I technically wasn't doing anything, and God he looked good.

"Yeah, okay." He smirked when I said that, and we both went to take showers and get dressed. I had no clue that I'd be going anywhere besides bed after this, so just had the outfit I had worn to classes that day. A pair of jeans and a black tank top with a grey hoodie to throw over it, which I decided to leave in my gym bag. But it was an improvement to the sweaty mess I was now. I quickly threw my ponytail into a messy bun and ran out the door. He was sitting on a bench nearby on his phone, quite a bit more dressed up than me, but being a political science professor and commentator I assumed his whole wardrobe leaned on the professional side. "Hi!" I said.

He stood up and looked me up and down. "Ready?" I nodded and followed him out the main entrance. He pushed the unlock button and his car lit up further down the street. "I can't wait to show you this amazing bar I found recently," he told me as he opened my car door. I got inside. It smelt expensive. I didn't grow up with any luxury, just necessity. But God, it felt nice. I touched the buttery leather and took a slow deep breath in. He got into the driver's seat and started the vehicle. Growing up, we didn't have a car. I always took the school bus and most of the places we needed to get to were within walking distance or we'd take a bus. But there was something about the warmth of the heater in the car that was so comforting. I almost felt like I was in a movie.

"I'm Wren by the way."

"Amelia."

"Lovely to meet you."

"Same here. So have you lived here long?" I asked him.

"About 10 years. I actually was a student here ages ago. But I moved to London to get my Ph.D. and got tied down there for a bit, but something about American politics just always brings me back here."

"It's incredible how you're right in the middle of it all when you are here. There's nothing like it."

"Are you in politics?" He asked me.

"I'm trying to be."

"I might be able to help you out with that. If your ambition is anything like you on the treadmill, I think I can put in a good word for you."

"I'd like that."

We pulled up in front of a beautiful brick building with gorgeous golden light illuminating the outside. "I can't wait for you to try their cocktails. They're insanely creative and the craftsmanship is unparalleled." He began to open his door.

"Wait," I called out. Although I had many, many drinks the past few months, I legally was still too young to drink.

He paused and closed the door.

"This is so embarrassing."

"You're fine."

"I, um. I'm actually not old enough to legally drink so I don't know if it's the best idea to go in." I inhaled, expecting him now to recognize me. I knew the game was probably up and this was all probably going to come to an end very soon.

He seemed genuinely caught off guard. He folded his lips and looked contemplative for a second. "Oh, okay. I...that's fine. I guess that probably isn't the best thing to do then. I mean, if you still want a drink I do have quite the liquor collection at my home, but if you don't drink I totally understand that. What do you want to do?"

I didn't want this to end. For once I was finally enjoying myself socially and there was something so comforting about his presence. "Yeah, let's do that. I'll get to test out your mixology skills too, then."

"The pressure is on. I've been training my whole adult life for this." He turned around and we drove and talked until we got to a luscious neighborhood with large trees and perfectly manicured hedges. He pulled into the driveway of a gorgeous, opulent home. It wasn't massive, but you could tell it was well-crafted and made with the finest of materials.

I couldn't help myself. "Wow, you're like rich."

"I'm...comfortable in my life." Only a rich person could say such a thing.

"What's a guy like you doing working out at the YMCA?"

"It's near work and I used to go there when I was a student too so, it feels nostalgic."

We went inside and he led me to the living room with a bar inside a brick archway behind the couch. "What's your drink of choice?" He asked. I had only ever had party drinks. Straight liquor like vodka and tequila shots, shitty margaritas and pina coladas made by college students, and lots of beer. "You pick."

He spent the next few minutes constructing our drinks. I walked around the room taking in the details. It was so well furnished, but also felt like nobody lived here. If I came in here, I never would be able to identify it as his house. There were hardly any pictures of people, just art surrounded by extravagant frames. There was a small framed photo of him and a boy on the mantle. He looked several years younger than he did now. "That's my boy, Clark. He lives in London still. Going to Oxford. He's a good kid." So...he had a child. I hoped he wasn't married, because at this point if he were to make a move, I would have a very hard time rejecting it.

"Are you married?" I asked.

"Divorced. About 10 years ago. She's back in London." I nodded. He walked over to me and gave me my drink. It was a dark purple and stunning. I didn't know much about drinks other than the cheap boxes of wine my mother kept in the fridge, but for the first time could actually see the artistry in it. "Take a sip."

I did and it was the most complicated yet intriguing drink I'd ever tried. "Wow."

"Good, right. Cheers." He gently collided his glass with mine, staring me straight in the eye. I felt myself blush a little. At what point should I come out and tell him I was his student? It was already too late to drop his class so it wasn't like I could avoid this forever. But tonight was going so well and I didn't want anything to change. We talked about some current political dilemmas, mostly agreeing with each other and on the small details that we differed on, both passionately lit up to explain our reasoning. We finished our drinks and he brought out a bottle of wine and poured us glasses. We drank and chatted and grew closer and closer and the couch. His knees touched mine, and soon our glasses were empty and on the coasters in front of us and our hands had nothing to hold and nothing to do. Without even thinking I gently played with the sleeve of his shirt. I just needed to touch him. To get as close to his warmth as possible. He looked down at my hands and the gesture gave him permission to finally say something.

"I've wanted to kiss you all night."

"So do it." I turned my body further into him.

I could see he wanted to. His eyes looked to my lips and back to my eyes. "I want to. I just...you're not even 21. I'm 52. I'm in political science. I try my best to be respectful. And I'm aware of the power dynamics at play here and...I could be your father."

I interrupted. "I'm an adult. I'm a consenting adult. And I've wanted to do more than kiss you tonight."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." I turned my body and crawled over to his, sitting on his lap with my knees bent on either side of him. "I've wanted to do this." I slowly ran my hands through his hair. "And this." I couldn't help myself and gently rolled my hips forward once before meeting his lips. Before kissing him I whispered, "And this." I could feel his breath on mine. He opened his mouth and began to kiss me. Softly at first and then more passionately as his tongue began to explore mine. I'd made out with several guys, even in the past month alone. But none of them were like this. The way his strong body was holding me and the absolute graceful control he had as he kissed me. It felt like we were creating art. His warm hands began to explore under my tank top. I felt him cup my left breast with his hand and moaned. God, was this what it was like to actually be touched by a real man?

I parted my lips from his. "I need these off. Now." I unbuttoned my jeans and threw them onto the ground, leaving my black seamless bikini underwear on. "Yours too," I demanded. I sat up straighter and gave him some space as I unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down his legs, exposing his boxer briefs. I brushed my hand against the fabric, trying to feel his penis before ripping them off. He was hard and as I sat back down I could feel him push against my covered vulva. I started to gently rock back and forth. I couldn't help it. He was like a magnet and I needed to touch him. He started to moan. "Oh fuck, you are so hot." He grabbed my hips and then pulled the tank top off of me. I got closer to his chest and began to unbutton his top. Rocking back and forth with each one. He undid the clasp on my bra. "Is this okay?" He asked. "The sooner I'm naked, the better," I replied. He ripped my bra away and went straight for my right nipple. He kissed it and sucked on it. I lit up like electricity. He switched back and forth and kissed down my abdomen, then traced the metal of my belly button piercing. "I think that's so hot. Nobody my age has these anymore." He kissed it which ticked slightly and then moved my body and lay me back so my head was resting on the arm of the couch. He continued to kiss down lower and lower. I wanted to rip my underwear off. "Please take them off. I need your mouth on me," I begged. He slid them down my legs and tossed them onto the growing pile on the floor.

The first second that he put his mouth on my clit I gasped. "Oh, fuck." There was something about his lips and the small amount of stubble. It started out as a little snack and then he began to devour me. I squirmed around in absolute ecstasy. I ground my hips back and forth. "Oh my god, please I am going to come so soon and I need to come with you inside me. Please." He obeyed like the respectful man he was and climbed over me. "Can I be on top?" I asked. "Fuck yeah, you can." He grabbed my hips and lifted me as if I was just some weight at the gym as he leaned back. "Wait, I need to grab a condom," he said, slowly lifting himself. "No need. I'm on the pill and I'd rather take plan B than have to wait one more second." I pushed him down as he nodded. He held my breast with one hand and caressed my ass with the other. "I need to get you inside me right now," I told him as a held onto his penis and rubbed my wet cunt onto him. I slowly slid back and forth on it. He growled out, "Fuck I love that. Your pussy is so fucking soft."

I lifted myself and gradually fit him inside of me. With each inch, I became even more breathless. "I want to ride you so hard, but I don't know how much longer I can last," I told him. I stayed motionless for a second, edging slightly hoping I could hold off a little longer. "I don't know how much longer I can either. You feel so fucking good. So soft and tight and fuck you have the nicest tits. I'm a lucky man tonight." I leaned down and kissed his as I began to ride him, lowering myself, grinding my clit, and raising myself just enough to not let him go. He began to thrust himself inside of me at the same time. My hair was starting to fall out of the bun in a sweaty mess. He reached up and pushed the hair behind my ear, then returned to grabbing my hips with both his strong hands. He pushed himself into me, quicker and quicker. We began to race again. Him in and out, me up and down, and back and forth. The intensity continued to build. We were both so loud, I couldn't even believe some of the noises that were coming out of me. And then I started to feel that electric sensation rush up through my body, slowly and then all at once, all the way up to my brain and I continued to ride it out, my pussy clenching and pulsing around his penis. He thrust harder and harder, "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Where do you want me to cum?" He asked. "Stay, please. Right here. I'm not fully done yet." He groaned as he burst inside me. We continued to dance back and forth together until we gradually slowed down, breaths getting longer and deeper. I collapsed on top of him, him still inside of me.

"Oh. My. God. Tonight is maybe one of the best nights of my life," I told him. I lay my head on his chest as he stroked my back. "Tell me about it." I gave him a little peck on the cheek and looked into his warm brown eyes.

"Can I tell you something?" I asked.

"Anything."

"I've never actually done that before."

His eyes grew wide. "Wait, ever? You sure seemed to know what you were doing."

"I mean I've hooked up with guys before, but I just never made it this far with them. It was nice."

"Nice was an understatement. It's been a while since I've felt so alive. You're so fucking invigorating. I can't get enough of you."

What the hell had I just gotten myself into?

We eventually got dressed, me in my underwear and tank top, and him in just his underwear. "I'd offer to drive you home, but I'm afraid I had a little bit too much to drink. I can call you a car."

"Don't worry about it. I'll take an Uber."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." I opened my Uber app. "There's one 4 minutes away." I glanced up at him.

"I was hoping it'd be a little longer than that." He handed me my jeans and I finished getting dressed. "Can I give you my number?"

"Yeah, give me a sec." I shimmied into my jeans and created a new contact. Wren. I handed him my phone as he added his number and gave it back to me. I got a notification that the Uber was almost there.

"Well, I have to go. But let's do this again soon," I told him as I opened the door.

"Very soon," he agreed.