The Mentor Ch. 03

Guinevere again looked at her tea. Her voice softer now, confessional.

"I remember one of the greatest time we ever had together, you know, in the sack, was after we'd seen this French film. I can't remember the name. The woman character seduces the man by pleasuring herself in front of him. That night, I did the same for him. He got so incredibly turned on. Just watching me. He said I was never more beautiful in his eyes."

She looked out the window, wistfully.

"That was a long time ago."

Eve had a million questions but decided to just sit back and listen, keeping track of every detail.

* * * * * *

The next morning, Eve was busy packing boxes in her dorm room when her cell phone chirped.

"I'm back. I need to see you."

It was Prof. Michaels. He sounded serious, even ominous. She hoped she hadn't done something wrong.

"Is everything okay?"

"I just need to see you. In person. I have something I have to tell you. Can you come by the house?"

Eve thought a moment. She hadn't eaten dinner yet. She needed to grab some food, and then change.

"How's eight o'clock? I'll bring the keys to the house."

"Perfect. See you then."

Eve stood in front of the mirror, thinking about what to wear. She had a sense that this last night with Michaels was going to be momentous, in one way or another. She decided to wear her "good" underwear, the sexy pair from Victoria's Secret, with a sheer cotton blouse and her tightest fitting jeans. She always dressed well when she was visiting Michaels, not that it did any good. It did make her feel more confident though.

Walking to his house, she thought about Guinevere's visit and the conversation they'd had. Was that why he wanted to talk? She wondered what she'd told him. Eve hoped she hadn't done something wrong.

* * * * * *

The rain began twenty minutes after she'd started walking to Michaels' house. She was running late and had forgotten her umbrella. She thought about turning back but by then she'd she had come too far.

It's June. Since when does it rain in June?

She thought about calling Michaels to ask if he'd pick her up but decided not to.

He's got enough on his mind right now.

As she turned onto Michaels street, the rain really started coming down. It pelted the ground relentlessly. Eve was completely soaked.

She rang the doorbell, standing on the steps dripping wet. The door opened. Michaels, dressed in khakis and a long sleeved shirt, looked at her. Her blouse was clinging to her body. Her full breasts were almost completely visible through her cotton blouse. Her nipples were erect from the cold.

"You poor thing. You should have called me."

He took her arm and ushered her inside.

"Oh, Eve, you're soaked to the skin," he said sympathetically. "What were you thinking?"

Eve shuddered. She wasn't that cold, really, but she let her teeth chatter anyway.

"I'll be f-f-fine. Maybe if you got me t-t-towel."

She hugged herself with her arms, pressing her breasts to her chest.

"Of course," he said, concerned. "Better yet, I'll draw you a bath."

He led her up the stairs to the master bathroom. It was all-white, with an old fashioned tub with clawed feet. He reached down to turn on the hot water, feeling the flow for the change in temperature. Eve started to kick off her shoes.

Is he going to bathe me? Could this be it?

The water was flowing hot now. He mixed in the cold until it was just right. He turned to look at her. She was facing away from him, peeling off her wet jeans. Nothing stood between him and her round ass but a lacy red thong.

"Um, you'll need some fresh towels," he said, hesitantly.

He went to cabinet and pulled down two carefully folded bath towels. When he turned back to her, she was starting to peel off the soaking wet blouse, her back still to him.

As she slowly lifted the fabric, he could see her slightly swayed back, her slender waist, her tawny skin. She arched her back, struggling to remove her shirt, causing her ass to reach outward, towards him.

"Could you help me please," she asked in a quiet voice.

She had her elbows in the air, her blouse half way off.

"Of course," he said, moving behind her.

Tentatively, he took the hem of her blouse in each hand, gently grazing her hands. She lifted her arms into the air. Slowly, he lifted the blouse. The wet, white fabric peeled off her skin revealing the light brown skin underneath. He carefully lifted it off her shoulders, taking care not to pull her hair, and over her head. Once it was free, she turned to face him, her arms still in the air.

"Thank you."

Her raised arms caused her full breasts to sit high. The sheer, wet bra was practically transparent and he could clearly see the pink outline of her nipples. They strained against the lacy fabric, pointing up, towards his face. He took in her breasts and then her emerald cat eyes.

"I ... I ..." he muttered.

"Yes," she asked, innocently.

He glanced at the blouse he still held in his hands.

"I ... should put these in the drier."

Eve watched him as he picked up her jeans from the floor and left, closing the door behind him. Eve, standing in her bra and panties, stared at the door, frowning.

Can't a guy take a hint?

She unclasped her bra, slipped off her panties, and stepped into the bath. The warm water caressed her body and she sunk down so the heat rose to the level of her neck. She looked at her body under the shimmering water.

I do have a good body, dammit. What did David say my breasts were? Oh yeah. "Epic."

She was giving herself a pep talk, trying to boost her confidence. She thought about Guinevere and their conversation.

Look at the woman he married. She defines glamour. What a letdown I must be!

She looked and her breasts rising above the water line like two islets. Her nipples were standing up. She brushed her fingers lightly over her breasts, rolling the nipples between her fingers. She felt the familiar tingling between her legs.

What was it that Guinevere said? That he liked young women with big breasts? Surely he'd like these breasts. And these nipples. When they get big like this.

She thought about his handsome face pressed against her bosom. She squeezed her nipple between her fingers imagining it was his mouth. The other hand slipped between her legs.

He could suck mine if he wanted to. I'd let him suck as much as he wanted. Mmmm, I want him to suck me so badly.

Her eyes were closed and she was squeezing her nipple now, first one, then the other. Her other hand was fingering her labial lips.

I'd do anything he wanted. Anything to please him. He could have me any way he wanted. I'd be his sex slave.

She was rubbing her clit now, her eyes squeezed tight. She was imagining him taking her. On that big bed of his. Forcing her to do things, nasty things. Positions that she'd never even imagined. Things that turned him on more than anything.

Just then there was a knock on the door. She froze.

"Yes," she said.

The door opened slightly and she could see him lean in, averting his eyes.

"You'll need to wear something while your clothes dry. I brought you this."

He laid a silk robe on the bathroom counter.

"Oh. OK."

Don't stop there. Come in. Join me in the bath.

"I guess I'll see you downstairs."

"Sounds good. Thanks."

He closed the door. She didn't know how much more rejection she could take.

* * * * *

Walking down the stairway, Eve could feel the silk robe sliding over skin. Her body was still tingling from the bath. From thinking about him and touching herself. Her full breasts pressed against the satiny fabric, the nipples clearly visible.

He was in the living room, poking at the fire. He turned at looked at her.

"Sorry to take so long. I took the liberty of using your hair drier."

He had pulled two easy chairs closer to the fireplace.

"I thought a fire would be nice. To help warm you up."

Eve slinked onto one of the chairs, her legs curled beneath her.

"Oh, I'm pretty warm from the bath."

She lifted the edge of the silk robe as if to let the air cool her. He looked at her a moment and then sat in the easy chair next to hers.

"Listen, Eve" he said seriously. "The reason I had to talk to you...it has to do with your story. 'Bittersweet'."

She was a bit taken aback. She hadn't seen this coming.

"My story?"

Michaels leaned forward, his brow furrowed.

"When I was in New York, I was having dinner with my editor at Penguin. She mentioned they were starting a new imprint, called Millennium Press. It's targeted to a younger audience. Anyway, she said they were looking for talented young writers for a collection of short stories. I told her about you and 'Bittersweet' and..."

Eve sat in rapt attention.

"And?" she said.

"And, I had it on my laptop so I gave it to her on a thumb drive."

"You gave it to her."

"I told her you were a student of mine, and an extraordinary young writer. That you'd written insightfully about a young woman coming of age, exploring her sexuality in a complex ethical situation. She was intrigued and wanted to read it. I hope you don't mind."

"Mind? Are you kidding? Of course not."

"I'm glad you feel that way. I felt like I had to strike while the iron was hot. Anyway, here's the thing -- I got a text when I was boarding the plane at JFK. They want to publish it."

Eve sat in stunned silence.

"What?" she asked incredulously.

"They want to include your story in an anthology of the year's best short stories by young American authors. Eve, you're going to be published. You'd better start shopping for an agent."

A huge smile swept across Eve's face. She leapt from the chair and gave him an enormous hug, squeezing him tightly. He was sitting in the easy chair and she was bent over him. She held him, her face nuzzled against his neck.

"That's... unbelievable. I don't know what to say. I'm so grateful."

"It's not me, Eve. It's entirely you. You earned it."

Her head was spinning. She could smell him, feel his soft curly hair against her face. It made her feel drunk.

Please. Reach your hands under my robe. I want you to touch me.

After a prolonged moment, she lifted her head and looked into his eyes.

"Thank you," she said simply.

He looked from one eye to another.

This is it. He's going to kiss me.

"I...I thought we should celebrate with a little champagne. Interested?"

"Of course," she answered.

He slipped out from under her and headed to the kitchen. She slumped into his chair.

What the hell is wrong with me?

She could hear the refrigerator open and close and the tinkling of glasses. A cork popped. The sound of champagne pouring.

Wait a minute ... What did she say? He likes to be led. To be seduced. Of course. How could I be so stupid?

He came back in the room holding an ice bucket and two champagne glasses.

He stopped in his tracks. She had pulled the two easy chairs back to their original positions and the was laying a throw rug from the couch in front of the hearth. Most dramatically, the light had been turned off. The fire was providing the only illumination in the room.

Eve sat on the blanket in front of the fire. Her blonde hair and long legs glowed in the firelight.

"I thought this would be more comfortable. You know, picnic-style."

"Oh," he said, hesitating a moment. "Good idea."

He sat next to her, placing the bottle and the glasses on the floor. After pouring both glasses, he handed one to her and raised his to toast.

"To a great new voice in contemporary fiction." He smiled and held her eyes as they sipped their champagne.

"I can hardly believe it," Eve said. "I've dreamt of this moment for a long, long time."

"It's a remarkable achievement," he said, nodding. "And a tremendous validation of your talent. I had no doubt that you'd make it, Eve. It was just a matter of getting your work in the right hands."

"And I have you to thank for that. But look at you, you're still in your work clothes. Don't you want to take your shoes off at least?"

He looked down at his shoes.

"I haven't had a chance to change since my flight."

He reached down to untie his shoes. She stopped him.

"Here, you must be tired. Let me help you."

She knelt at his feet and untied his shoe, slowly slipping it off. Then she slipped off his sock. She was on her knees and the top of her breasts her clearly visible beneath the silk robe. She removed the other shoe and sock.

"How do you feel from your trip? Tired? Here. Let me rub your shoulders."

She slipped behind him and began to knead his broad shoulders.

"That feels nice," he murmured. "You know, I had to wait 'til I was thirty before I was published. How old are you?"

"Mmmm, old enough. Don't you worry about that. Does that feel good?"

"Oh, yeah. That feels fantastic. You're a talented woman, Eve."

"Oh, yes. I've got many hidden talents, I assure you," she purred.

"Here," she said reaching around him from behind to unbutton his shirt. "But you have to take this off. You cannot have a back rub with a shirt on. It simply doesn't work."

He seemed hesitant, but she continued unbuttoning his shirt. He could feel her full breasts brushing against his back.

"That's it. Just slip it off. Doesn't the fire feel wonderful?"

She had slipped his shirt off revealing his broad back and taut shoulders. Eve began to slowly massage his bare shoulders.

"Mmmm, that does feel good," he murmured.

"Good. Just try and relax."

She pressed her fingers into his muscles of his shoulders, his neck, his arms. He was letting out low moans.

"Why don't you lay down on your stomach. Then I can do your whole back."

She slowly pushed him down to the floor and kneeled beside him. She pushed the heel of her hands into his back from his lower back to his shoulders. She worked her way down his back, making circles with his fingertips. After giving his back a thorough rubbing, she leaned forward and whispered in his ear.

"Turn over. I'll do the other side."

When he rolled over on his back, he could see her kneeling beside him. The belt of her robe was loosened, and it had fallen open ever so slightly. He could see the edges of her full breasts. Her hair was thick and partially covering one eye.

Her hands slid along his flat stomach, over his pecs, and up to his shoulders. Her fingers glided over his breasts and along each side of his torso. He was watching her as she leaned forward and back, pressing her hands into his flesh.

"Whew," she purred. "Is it getting warm in here or is just me."

Her hands were moving up and down his body, massaging his shoulders and chest with deep, sensuous strokes.

"It's almost too warm" she said. She sat up and looked at him with a sly expression. She lowered the robe so it was off each of her shoulders. The top of her full breasts were bathed in firelight. She looked ravishing.

"Mmmm, that feels better" she sighed. "Are you okay?" she asked in a sexy voice. "You're not ... uncomfortable?"

"I'm fine. Why?"

"I thought maybe you were uncomfortable because of the fact that I'm ... you know ... naked under this robe."

"Uh...not at all," he muttered. "I mean, you ARE my student..."

"Former student," she said, correcting him. "I graduated, remember?"

"Of course," he nodded. "My former student."

"I'm glad you feel comfortable. Then you won't mind if I just ... take this off."

She let the robe fall entirely off her body, revealing two gorgeous, melon-sized breasts. She swung her leg over him so she was straddling him. She arched her back slightly, her breasts pressing upward, her nipples reaching up and out. She lowered herself until she was pressed against his crotch. She could feel his bulge pressing against her pussy.

"Do you like my breasts?" she asked, breathily.

"Oh, yes," he growled. "They're exquisite."

"I'm so glad," she cooed. "I like it when you look at them."

She ran her fingers lightly along the underside of her breasts, and then let them brush over the nipples. She could feel his cock hardening beneath her.

"You know, they're really, really sensitive. When I touch them, like this ... it makes me really hot."

She played with both nipples with her fingers. She rocked her pelvis, rubbing her pussy against his cock.

"You know what I've always wanted to do?" she asked.

"What's that?"

She leaned forward to pick up her glass of champagne. Her full breasts hung down and ever so slightly brushed against his muscled chest. She sat up again with a sly expression on her face, her glass of champagne in one hand.

"Can I offer you a sip of champagne?" she asked. He nodded.

Slowly, she moved the glass above her breast and poured a stream of the golden liquid on the top of her breast so it slowly trickled over her nipple. She leaned forward and brought her nipple to his mouth, brushing it against his lips. He opened his lips and let the champagne trickle into his mouth.

"Mmmmmm, that feels good," she whispered. "But you need more than that."

She poured a second stream of the icy champagne over her other breast and brought her nipple to his mouth. He drank it hungrily, straining for the nipple. She sat up, her moist breasts shining in the firelight. He was staring at her nipples which were standing out from the chill.

"You know what I want? I want to celebrate. I want to do all the things I love to do. Do you want to know what I love?"

He nodded again.

"I love the thought of a man suckling my breasts. It's one of my favorite things in the whole world. It turns me on so much. Would you mind sucking them?"

"Of course...." he answered, gulping.

She slowly lowered her nipples to his face, brushing them over his lips. He reached for them, hungrily. She lifted them out of reach, teasing him.

"C'mon baby, take it in your mouth."

He lunged for the breast again. "Shhhh, baby," she cooed. "Let me help you."

She supported her breast with her hand and guided her nipple to his mouth. He took it between his lips, letting the tongue slide over the velvety flesh.

"That's it," she moaned. "That's it, now suck it, baby. That's right. Suck my breast."

He wrapped his soft lips around her hard nipple and sucked it vigorously. His tongue pressed it against the roof of his mouth, his eyes shut tight.

"Oh, God, that feels so good," she moaned. She could see his cock was getting long and hard. She was beyond wet.

"I think the other one's getting jealous," she said, breathing heavily. "You better give it some attention."

"We can't have that, can we?" he muttered.

She guided the other breast to his waiting mouth and pressed it against his face. His tongue and lips worked the nipple ravenously.

"Mmmmmm," she cooed. "That feels so good. Oh dear, look how big you've made my nipples."

It was true. Her nipples were erect now, like ripe grapes reaching out from her pendulous breasts. She looked down and noticed the entire head of his cock was now reaching above his pants. She reached down and began to slowly unfasten his belt, her voice soft, hypnotic.

"I've wanted this for so long. From the first time I met you. I wanted you to do this that first day."

She slowly unzipped his pants and peeled them back. She pulled his pants and boxer shorts down and off his legs. His cock and balls look big and full. She started to stroke them softly. He let out a deep moan.

"Do you remember when I first came to your office? I was wearing that sheer white blouse. And that short skirt. I wanted to do this. Right then and there. I was so wet. Thinking about it."

He moaned again and she could feel his cock throbbing in her hand. She lowered her breast to his mouth and he began sucking her nipple hard. She cupped her fingers and slid them over his hard-on, stroking the tender underside, stretching the skin gently back. He was rock hard.